this and also the only difference between fanfic writers and writers who sell their own original works as careers is that fanfics arenāt monetized. thatās all.
being a āprofessionalā writer doesnāt mean your works are inherently better than fanfics. Iāve read so many fics that are more professionally written than some published books.
whether or not a piece of writing is monetized has nothing to do with its quality.
Summary: As the group settles into their normal routine, they venture back out into the darkness on a quest to uncover more secrets about the Shadowlands. Their path leads to the House of Healing, rife with treacherous reminders of a past Ofelia would like to forget; so soon after it's been dredged from her memories.
They toil through undead nurses and an ambush party all while Ofelia and Astarion's relationship evolves and blossoms. With their trust building, it seems that not even her risky decisions have the power to crush it- but how about the appearance of a certain devil?
Pairing: Astarion x female!Durge ā§Ė Astarion x Ofelia ā§Ė StarSong
Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Mentions of past self-harm (minor), Canon-typical violence and gore.
Word Count: 12,549
AO3
One silly picture to add to this sadly, as my computer nuked my save before I caught up and I'm not quite there yet- but here's her sweet face covered in blood!!! š„°
ā§ĖTag List: @khywren @pinkberrytea @bby-bel
ā§ĖDividers: @/strangergraphics
ā§ĖSongs:
Everything feels exemplified- the shift of his skin against hers, the whisper of fabric as his shirt drags against her own, the scent of her blood a sharp tang in the air. Her lips fall open, her faith implicit as she descends into the calm in her mind. Fire reduced to the soft glow of candlelight instead of the raging inferno that frequently accompanies these kinds of encounters, she lets him guide her along an invisible ridge. Thereās not much room on either side of the path- one promises regret, the other absence, and she sticks close behind him as the red leaves her body with each greedy swallow.
Pleasure doesnāt rip through her and threaten to rend her in two- the only satisfaction she revels in is that of her own making. How could she not, under these circumstances? The way he strokes his thumbs over the back of her hands, his quiet sighs and moansā¦ Just the feeling of his mouth on her is enough to send her vision spinning, blood loss aside. And yet itās only a tempered flame, still making her heart leap and bound, sending fresh waves of want through her, but contained within the confines of her body.
She almost wants to ask how heās controlled it, but she doesnāt get far before her tadpole seizes and heās connecting to her- threading their thoughts like a tapestry until they nearly function as one.
āWould you like to know how you taste?ā His voice in her mind feels warm- a hearth flickering and flaring.
āYesā¦ā she hears herself say without thinking- but what could it hurt? To share that experience after sheās shared so many of her own? It seems only fair.
She should have considered it a little longer before agreeing so readily.
fuck island progress update: iām 14/38 pages in with revision 2. goal being a page a day. so should be halfway done by this weekend <3 except im about to break 13k lol
gummygunk
yousharknotpass
theartofmadeline
tangentwithtanner
2087
dailybridgerton
stormborns
pixelskylines
gracieabrams
discoholicmusic
