a writer, perchance

Obsession - not what you need

Sun, 07 Jun 2026 10:17:38 GMT

Obsession - not what you need

Fandom: Forgotten Realms / War of the Spider Queen
Rating: E
Warnings: Transphobia, Dubious Consent
Relationship: Vizaeth Xunhrae Thaezyr/Zeth'rinn Baenre
Tags: Hurt No Comfort, Bad Sex, Drunk Sex, not so much a hookup as a hatecrime, the transphobia is coming from inside the house, Grief, Angst, Coughing Up Blood, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Wordcount: 1565

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: Pharaun is dead, Vizaeth is miserable, and Zeth’rinn is a pretty, drunk distraction from grief and the taste of blood.

Author's Notes: don’t worry about the timeline, this is basically just a fucked up AU because i like to make my boys Suffer (:

Memory, or perhaps instinct, guides Vizaeth’s exhausted steps as he stumbles into the tavern with the taste of Pharaun’s flesh on the back of his tongue. Lost months ago he was brought here as a gift, a thing of beauty and an object of pleasure, granted a public affection—now he’s alone with a stomach full of mangled innards and traces of the Demonwebs clinging to his skin.

Vizaeth finds the same seat he claimed when Pharaun led him here and collapses into it. Red mist coils faintly from his arms, full of ghostly spiders. His hair hangs lank and bloody around his face, and he tucks a tangle of strands behind his ear with a shaking hand. A clot of gore catches under his nails. He flicks it to the floor.

“You look like you’ve had a worse day than me,” a voice beside him slurs. “Fancy a drink?”

It’s a young male. Hair shaved into webs on the sides, dark makeup smeared over eyes and lips, an outfit that speaks of expense and taste gone spiralling down the drain over the course of the evening. He’s pretty. He’s paying.

“Yes,” Vizaeth says.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: Vizaeth’s Issues, meet Zeth’rinn’s Issues!

Series Masterpost

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Disintegration

Sat, 06 Jun 2026 11:42:47 GMT

Disintegration

Fandom: Original Work
Rating: E
Warnings: Noncon
Relationship: Superhero/Supervillain
Tags: Blackmail, Power Imbalance, Age Gap, Gags, Restraints, Vaginal Sex, no little superhero don’t go into the abandoned warehouse!
Wordcount: 3414

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: Erin ‘Nightingale’ Satake got her powers the day she turned 17. One year and a viral video later, she’s finally taking the step from wannabe to bonafide superhero.

Then she gets a message. From someone who knows her real name. And if she doesn’t meet them, soon the whole world will know exactly who she is and she’ll have a target on her back for the rest of her life.

One abandoned warehouse. One freshly-minted superhero. One S-tier supervillain. What could possibly go wrong?

Author's Notes: recommended audio accompaniment - Disintegration - Monarchy ft Dita Von Teese

My Dear Nightingale – unless you would like the name Erin Satake in the hands of every journalist in the country come morning, you’ll pay me a midnight visit at the coordinates below. Oh, and I’d advise you not to involve any of your caped friends—a mass-unmasking is a terrible thing to carry on one’s record. I’d hate for it to mar yours.

Erin looked up from the glow of her phone to the dark, boxy shape of the warehouse looming before her. She’d read the anonymous email countless times. Deleted it, restored it, deleted it again, then pulled it out of the trash one last time to copy the coordinates into her maps app. It was a hoax. It had to be a hoax—one of her ‘caped friends’ playing a stupid prank. She’d walk into the creepy abandoned building and find the whole team there waiting to tell her gullible was written on the ceiling.

“It’s bullshit,” she whispered to herself, stomach flip-flopping with every step she took away from her car. “It’s bullshit.”

But it was bullshit she had to deal with. She wasn’t equipped for an unmasking—hell, full-fledged, full-time, full-powered pro heroes weren’t equipped for unmasking! Just look at what happened to Starfall last summer. She’d lost her job, her kids, her wife, and every villain on the West Coast was still gunning for her. At last report, she’d gone into protective custody slash enforced retirement—and she could tear battleships in half!

Erin could tear things in half too, with her voice. Not battleships, not yet, but she was sure she could work up to that. Her songs were getting stronger every time she used them, and whoever had sent the stupid email would find that out firsthand when she sang the walls of this stupid warehouse down on their head.

First, though, she quietly sang her way through a mesh fence, then scurried up a cracked concrete incline until she reached the roll-up door, which was closed except for a gap at the base about a foot high, where it had either jammed when the last owners left, or been forced up by urbex kids. Or by whoever had sent that email.

Probably there were other entrances, but it was a minute to midnight already, and singing herself faster or time slower were not skills she possessed. Erin grit her teeth and squirmed under the gap into the darkness beyond.

( Read more... )

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Eleven

Fri, 05 Jun 2026 09:01:49 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Eleven

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Rizeth Lore, Makeouts, Fluff
Wordcount: 5029

AO3 / Neocities

The breath on the back of Ashenivir’s neck shifted, and he knew Rizeth was awake. At first he only lay there, for the moment felt fragile as glass, such that the slightest movement might shatter it. Then Rizeth’s lips pressed lightly to his shoulder, a touch so tentative it made his heart ache, and he rolled over.

“Hello,” he whispered, which conjured a faint smile. Rizeth traced the line of his jaw with his knuckles.

“Good morning.”

Ashenivir started to lean forwards, then paused. “Can…can I kiss you?”

Hardly had he finished asking before Rizeth’s mouth captured his in reply. His arms went around Rizeth’s neck as their legs tangled, the nearness of their bodies sending a shiver through him; desire and relief and a frightened need to cling on tight, lest all that lay beneath his hands go up in smoke. He rolled over, pulling Rizeth atop him, but before he could get further than that, Rizeth drew away.

“We need to talk.”

“Can’t we just pretend it didn’t happen?” Ashenivir tried to pull him back into the kiss, but he resisted. “That I wasn’t stupid and you weren’t upset, and—”

Rizeth put a thumb to his lips. “No, xi’hum. We cannot.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: well, at least they finally talked, i guess!

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Obsession - all in parts and pieces

Fri, 05 Jun 2026 08:58:11 GMT

Obsession - all in parts and pieces

Fandom: Forgotten Realms / War of the Spider Queen
Rating: M
Warnings: Unethical Experimentation, Torture, Amputation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Tags: Necromancy, Magical Surgery
Wordcount: 1637

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: i have several ideas for what might happen to Viz after Pharaun dies. this is one of them.

The male strapped to the table is a pretty young thing with the wrong coloured eyes. They dart around the laboratory in fretful anguish, leaping from Vizaeth to the workbenches to the door, and if they were the right colour, Vizaeth would resent such excessive rolling, but they’re not, so it doesn’t matter. The arms and legs are what he wants from this one—the rest is so much offal.

On the workbenches—two great slabs repurposed from a grand zurkhwood dining table—his project lies beneath carefully crafted stasis fields, the complex spellwork a weaving of necromancy gleaned from the Thayan tomes lining the shelves he hauled up from the lower levels. The stalactite’s previous owners saw fit to keep their library at the narrow tip of their hanging estate; Vizaeth prefers to work nearer the top. As far from the city as he can get without leaving it.

“Please don’t please no let me go please please let me go—”

The male is babbling. Vizaeth tunes it out. It all gets to be the same after a while. The same words, the same rhythm. He’d savoured it at first, the luxury of being begged, instead of being the one begging. Now it’s just irritating.

“You’re pathetic,” he rasps over his shoulder as he lowers the stasis fields in preparation for today’s work. “You’ve hardly suffered at all, yet you’re whining like a child. You’re Menzoberranyr. Have some self-respect.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: can you tell i re-read frankenstein recently

Series Masterpost

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Château de la Faime

Thu, 04 Jun 2026 13:12:02 GMT

Château de la Faime

Fandom: Original
Rating: M
Warnings: Mindbreak, Attempted Suicide, Dubious Consent
Relationship: Vampire/Captive
Tags: Vampires, Lightly Historical, Gothic, Corruption, Taking Virginity, Fingerfucking, Groping, Masturbation, Oral Sex,
Wordcount: 4097

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: “By the time I’m finished with you,” she said, “you won’t want to leave.”

Séraphine Favreau’s parents were part of a failed rebellion against Lady Callista, the vampire who rules over their province. Callista declares she will spare their lives—in exchange for their daughter. They agree.

Séraphine does not. She will not remain a prisoner of a murderous vampire, and she certainly won’t succumb to her wicked words or her foul touch.

No matter how good it feels.

The rebellion against Lady Callista was doomed to failure from the start. How could it ever have been otherwise? She was a vampire, those who dwelt in the shadow of her castle were mortal, and Séraphine Favreau deeply wished her parents had considered both facts more seriously before supplying the rebels with weapons.

She stood before the castle gates, glaring at a mother and father who refused to look her in the eye. Magnanimously—after slaughtering the masterminds of the rebellion on the church steps—Lady Callista had declared she would forgive and forget the Favreau’s contribution to the uprising, on the condition they give her whatever gift she asked for.

They’d agreed.

“I won’t stay here,” Séraphine declared, turning her ire from her cowardly parents to the vampire whose fault all this was. “You can’t keep me.”

Callista laughed; a sound like red wine and silk sheets. She was tall, pale as milk, with pitch-black ringlets and a waist cinched as narrow as Séraphine’s thigh. She wore silk; grey and silver brocade decorated with ruched ribbons, twin cascades of lace billowing from her sleeves at the elbow, of a white so pure they glowed in the moonlight. “Such admirable fire! I do despise a cat without claws.” She gestured a long, slender hand at Séraphine’s parents. “You are forgiven and forgotten. See you do not give me cause to remember you.”

And just like that they were gone, and Séraphine was alone. She balled her fists at her sides. “I mean it,” she hissed. “I’ll escape. If I have to break my legs jumping from the rooftop to do it, I’ll escape.”

Callista touched her cheek. Her fingers were ice cold and hard as iron. “By the time I’m finished with you,” she said softly, “you won’t want to leave.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: achievement unlocked: baby’s first mindbreak fic! i hope you enjoyed the lesbians~

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sacrificium

Wed, 03 Jun 2026 08:45:57 GMT

sacrificium

Fandom: Forgotten Realms
Rating: T
Warnings: Implied Human Sacrifice, Emotional Neglect
Tags: Character Study, Backstory, Villain Origin, Lolth, Angst,
Wordcount: 1317

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: A wild magic sorceress born to a house of wizards, unwanted and disdained, until her pain brings her into Lolth’s embrace.

Author's Notes:i can still have feelings for a BBEG after they die

The magic that blooms with her adolescence is unwelcome in the House of T’sonri. Untrained, unpredictable, unsightly—burnt hands, broken plates, shattered windows. Mother snaps out careless girl! and thoughtless child!; sisters sneer useless and talentless and disgrace behind Arcanum-trained hands.

And Zeerith—magicless, forgotten Zeerith—salves her burns and repairs the plates and sweeps up the glass without a word. He has nothing, what she has isn’t worth having, and so together they are less than any T’sonri should be.

If she’d been the eldest, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

She is not the eldest. She could have been, had fate twisted in her favour, but why would it? She’s never had any accommodations. T’sonris don’t need accommodations.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes:I have a playlist for Elvrae also - you can find it here!

Translations (I couldn't work out how to do footnotes on DW orz)

Usstan belbau wuind Dos nindel vel’bolen zhah Dossta. Tlynn nindol vlos lu’nautkhurzon vlees lu’morfeth ol du’ased wund Dosst cress. - I give unto You that which is yours. Take this blood and unworthy meat and make it blessed within Your web.

Mrigg uns’aa, mrigg uns’aa, Ilhar! Mrigg uns’aa ulu Dosst elamshinae. - Guide me, guide me, Mother! Guide me to Your favour.

Jal nindel’s yibin z’klaen el.^-All that’s weak must die.

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On Her Altar

Tue, 02 Jun 2026 08:27:32 GMT

On Her Altar

Fandom: Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Relationship: Niamh/Invari
Tags: F/F, Oral Sex, fucking on the altar, Proxy Sex, Fingerfucking, Light Knifeplay
Wordcount: 1453

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: In which Niamh worships on Glasya’s altar.

Author's Notes: this fic is the ‘fucking on the altar’ referenced in Contract Negotiations, but you don’t have to read Niamh hooking up with Glasya unless you want to. i mean you should, it’s pretty hot. but you can do what you want. anyway, enjoy the lesbians.

It’s always easy to slip away from her party in a city. Ameshe loses herself in the largest library, Mordecai in the seediest tavern—or bloodiest fighting pit, if he can sniff one out—and Niamh is left to her own devices until such time as her services are required again. They perhaps aren’t as close as some crews are, but the arrangement works, and more importantly, it allows her to seek out Glasya’s temples without being interrogated about it.

Niamh descends the stairs in silence, accompanied only by the fading thud of the trapdoor and the dancing shadows of flickering torchlight. Of all the temples she’s visited, this one, buried beneath an unassuming alchemist’s shop in the Trades Ward of Waterdeep, holds a special place in her heart. Not because it’s better than any of the others—certainly there are more elaborate enclaves of diabolical devotion out there—but because it’s where she made her pact.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: i like to think Glasya would approve of her followers having messy gay sex about her

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Divine Object

Mon, 01 Jun 2026 12:30:33 GMT

Divine Object

Fandom: Forgotten Realms
Rating: M
Warnings: Violence, Gore, Dysphoria
Tags: Murder, Parenticide, Religious Themes
Wordcount: 1556

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: You are a divine gift, Veltariel. You are a blessing made flesh. In you are the eyes of Tyr’s justice made manifest.

This is neither Malevir’s true name nor his true purpose. Today is the day he proves it.

Author's Notes: i humbly present my offering of yet another murderous transmasc nightmare boy

You are a divine gift, Veltariel. You are a blessing made flesh. In you are the eyes of Tyr’s justice made manifest.

Bloody footsteps marked Malevir’s passage down the centre of the nave. Fading screams lingered in the air, caught in the dark of the clerestory above. Ahead, the dusk light fell blue and purple through the stained glass, bathing the cowering figures of his parents where they huddled before the altar.

“That’s enough, Veltariel!” his father cried.

Malevir continued to walk. Feathers shed in his wake, crumbling to red ashes as they drifted to the floor. Not enough left of his wings to fly now, but at least they were unbound.

“Put down the knife, darling.” His mother’s voice rang out, shaking but as clear as ever it sounded from the pulpit. Words were all she had. Tyr had never seen fit to grant her or any other of this church more than that. “Please, just put it down.”

The dead and the dying lay broken behind him, Tyr’s guilty faithful, punished as their own doctrine commanded. That many were ignorant of the shape of their guilt troubled him not—the mercy of ignorance was a mercy none had ever granted him. They had plucked his feathers for good fortune; laid hands upon him in search of Tyr’s blessings; stripped him bare before a crowd so that his many eyes could watch over the justice delivered unto others.

Now justice was come among them, and it was not Tyr’s hand that would deliver it, but his.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: Malevir was a backup character for a Strahd game i was in, but i a) never died on the first character and b) never finished the campaign, so alas he has languished in my brain for many years. the original inspiration for him was this video and then i made him trans as well because. well. of course i did.

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Ten

Fri, 22 May 2026 11:09:32 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Ten

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Angst, Rizeth Backstory
Wordcount: 5654

AO3 / Neocities

Soft birdsong far away. A cool breeze on distant skin. Limbs moving smoothly through motions perfected over hour after hour of practice. Ashenivir hurled himself across the stone platform; a spin, a leap, arms out wide. His knuckles clipped the edge of a pillar as he passed, but the pain was far away. Off the altar and out into the grove, between the trees and the bright, fragrant blooms, bare feet faster and faster over stone-studded earth until he was running more than dancing, begging the motion of his body, the surge of his pulse, to carry his mind away further, further; to let him breathe, please, Maiden, let me breathe!

He skidded to a halt by the largest, oldest oak, and pressed his forehead to the bark. His chest heaved, his legs trembled, all of him sticky with sweat. Aching. Sore. Tired, so endlessly tired.

A tenday since he’d come here, and he felt no better than he had that first awful afternoon. If anything, his thoughts were more of a mess. His heart certainly was.

He leaned back against the tree, squinting up at the speckled light through the canopy as he rubbed his knuckles. The skin hadn’t split, only bruised. It was the fourth or fifth such injury he’d inflicted on himself while dancing, and he doubted it would be the last. Motion kept the hurt at bay as long as he didn’t stop, but the moment he did, it all came crashing back into him. A full tenday. Rizeth hadn’t sent so much as a note.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: man you know i couldn't keep them apart for any real length of time im too weak TT_TT this does NOT however mean that the Issues and Problems are over!! the difficulties will continue until they work their collective shit out <3

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Nine

Fri, 08 May 2026 09:23:46 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Nine

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings:
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Angst
Wordcount: 4240

AO3 / Neocities

When a bed is empty, you can tell without opening your eyes. There’s a certain lack of warmth and weight, a flatness to the sheets that speaks of absence. There’s the breath that doesn’t sigh against your neck, the legs not tangled with your own, the kiss upon your shoulder that doesn’t come.

Ashenivir lay with his eyes closed for a long time, hoping. The bed was large enough that he could still roll over and find Rizeth on the far side of it. He’d be facing away, tense and awake and silent, as uncertain and sick from a night of poor reverie as Ashenivir was. It would be hard to reach out, but he’d do it. Touch Rizeth’s arm, start to apologise and before the words made it out, Rizeth would turn and pull him close and he’d cry again because he’d been so stupid, but it would all be fine now, because it was always fine. His Master never let things stay any other way.

When he rolled over, the bed was empty. His heart collapsed in on itself, his throat so tight it disconnected from his lungs. How he had any tears left was a mystery, yet on they came.

It was well into the morning by the time he made himself get up. He’d slept in his clothes, and felt grimy and wretched. The apartment was dreadfully silent, the bedroom door still closed—he paused with a hand on it, then went to take a bath instead. Afterwards, he put on one of Rizeth’s shirts and went to face the silence, praying he was wrong.

He wasn’t.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: i'd apologise for 2 chapters of angst in a row but in my defence i did give you the dessert of that power word pleasure first so now you gotta eat your vegetables :p

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Eight

Fri, 24 Apr 2026 08:57:26 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Eight

The late-afternoon air hung heavy and humid, with not the slightest breeze to stir its weight. The inside of A Maiden’s Tears was thankfully cooler than outside, though not by much. Ashenivir tugged at his shirt, grimacing at the way it clung to his back, and made a mental note to see if an embroidered cooling charm was feasible. This surface weather was becoming intolerable.

Mara had directed him to the small tavern when he’d asked, curious as to why he was going—frowning when she learned he was meeting Catriona. She hadn’t tried to stop him, though. He still wasn’t sure whether or not that was a good thing.

Set in an alley so small it lacked a name up in the top corner of the North Ward, the Tears was as quiet as Catriona had said it would be. Old, dark wood fashioned the interior, brightened with glass wall-lamps and seascapes in antique gilt frames. The open taproom held a half-dozen tables, all with a good view of the bard tuning her harp on the performance platform, but most were empty. Ashenivir glanced around for Catriona, not finding her until he looked to the booths along the west wall. Most of them were curtained off, but she caught his eye from one that wasn’t and motioned him over.

“You came,” she said as he joined her. He didn’t draw the curtain—it was stifling enough as it was.

“I did.”

“I wasn’t certain you would,” she said. “I thought perhaps your Master would talk you out of it.”

Ashenivir shifted in his seat, picking at a whorl in the table. He hadn’t lied, but he hadn’t exactly told the truth, either. Going for a drink with a friend from the House, he’d said, and Rizeth hadn’t asked for more details, because he trusted him.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: :)

Series Masterpost | A Question of Trust Masterpost | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Seven

Fri, 10 Apr 2026 08:37:48 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Seven

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Overstimulation, Oral Sex, Dry Orgasms
Wordcount: 5418

AO3 / Neocities

Snip.

Another length of copper dropped onto the cloth. Ashenivir curved the sharp ends in with his pliers, satisfied at the neatness of the tiny loops. The faint noise of the city drifted up from the street below—a bard of some sort had parked themselves on a near enough corner that their light tunes had accompanied all his morning chores.

Caring for the apartment—cleaning—was not a thing usually in his nature, but every time he did it, Rizeth was pleased. Even if he said nothing, it was clear enough in his reaction. He liked things tidy, Ashenivir had known that as long as he’d known Rizeth, and any tedium associated with keeping things in order evaporated the moment that small, pleased smile ticked the corner of his Master’s mouth. Being complimented on a job well done made the effort of achieving it shine like gold.

“‘Thus the pleasure of the Master becomes the pleasure of the servant—if such enjoyment cannot be felt in serving, intrinsically, the servant shall never truly cherish his place.’ Master Corvidius, Truest Service, page forty-five,” he recited as he set to polishing the wire. Cleanest copper meant clearest magic, and he’d never do any less for Rizeth than he did for himself.

He’d always enjoyed this. Back at the Arcanum, keeping Rizeth’s component store filled had never felt like a chore. It helped his Master, made him happy, ensured he always had everything he needed for his spellcasting. Trimming wire, grinding gem and metal powders, collecting and arranging all the tiny oddments needed for everyday wizardry—in these dullest of tasks he found a meditative pleasure. Intrinsically.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: look at all this lovely sex and nice relationship stuff, isn't it so hot? so cute? aren't they just so great right now? im sure the next chapter isn't going to do anything bad to them whatsoever~

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Six

Fri, 27 Mar 2026 10:48:28 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Six

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Sex Toys, Restraints
Wordcount: 5240

AO3 / Neocities

Show him you love him.

Kelran’s words echoed on a mocking repeat of reprove in Rizeth’s head. When Ashenivir got back from the Haven, he’d tried to apologise—too tired, Ashenivir brushed him off with, wanting to go right to bed. The morning after, Rizeth waited for him to broach the subject, determined not to snap, to be rational, but Ashenivir hadn’t tried again. Rizeth didn’t know if he’d succeeded in scaring him away from the topic, exactly as he’d stupidly wanted, or simply succeeded in scaring Ashenivir from talking to him about it.

Neither felt good, but it was a necessary discomfort. Ashenivir didn’t understand what he was asking for. Books told him nothing. Books painted pretty, appealing fantasies of rules and rituals, not the reality of what living under them entailed, nor did they properly convey the destruction of affection such rules could cause. Trying desperately to have them had turned Rizeth into a monster and his relationship to ash, and he wouldn’t allow history to repeat itself.

So they hadn’t discussed it. Rizeth threw himself into displays of affection Kelran would surely approve of—all Ashenivir’s favourite meals, new books, fresh flowers every time he came back from yet another Arcanum meeting. He said please, asked permission, and took nothing, not so much as a kiss, without it. Ashenivir seemed to forgive him, or at least didn’t walk out on him, which he hoped were the same thing.

An afternoon finally came entirely free, and Ashenivir lit up when Rizeth asked him to come to the House.

“Can I have my new toy there?”

His eyes were brighter than they’d been in days. “You may,” Rizeth said, and Ashenivir kissed him, and he felt that perhaps all might be alright with the world.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: uh oh oh no (:

Series Masterpost | A Question of Trust Masterpost | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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Deepthroat Diplomacy

Fri, 20 Mar 2026 11:09:55 GMT

Deepthroat Diplomacy

Fandom: Original
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Tags: Fantasy, Elves & Orcs, Gangbang, Size Difference, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Creampie, Belly Bulge, Body Hair, Large Cock, PWP, fat hairy sexy orcs, some of the women have cocks some of the men have cunts
Wordcount: 3670

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: In which Ambassador Kitarai does an absolutely stellar job negotiating a trade agreement.

The dress wasn’t exactly appropriate ambassadorial attire, but no-one had seen her pack it so Kitarai felt she could, on this occasion, get away with it. Unprofessionally bright blue skirts flowed around her freshly moisturised legs as she made her way up the neat stone path towards what her mentor had told her was called the Khezegh. Translated, it apparently meant something like ‘house of debate’—a fact which made a great many of the elves of Al-Sinneas extremely happy. There was nothing they loved more than a good debate.

Kitarai adjusted her low-cut bodice to better display the small, delicate curve of her breasts, then raised a hand to knock. Before her knuckles could make contact with the painted wood, an orc opened the door.

“Ambassador Starflower, I presume?” he asked, grinning rather tuskily down at her. He was tall and broad and wore only dark trousers, held up beneath the fuzzy swell of his stomach by a thick brown belt. Kitarai drew on all her training and managed to both look him in the eye and not squeak as she spoke.

“Yes. Madam Vyel is expecting me.”

“Madam,” the orc repeated, chuckling. “She’ll get a kick out of that. Come on in. We’ve been waiting for you.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: i’d apologise for all the worldbuilding but unfortunately i need it to get off 💜

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Five

Fri, 13 Mar 2026 09:56:45 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Five

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings:
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Temperature/Sensation Play, Angst
Wordcount: 4673

AO3 / Neocities

“Back for more reading, Master Zauvym?”

Ms Thorne offered him a friendly smile as he stepped into the foyer. Ashenivir returned it. “Lord Stillgleam’s collection is very engaging.”

And a good distraction. Rizeth was acting like nothing had happened, which was almost worse than the first time they’d argued and he’d turned too sweet. Ashenivir didn’t want to broach the topic himself—how would he even do such a thing? Please, Master, tell me about the woman who broke your heart, I’m dying to know exactly how she did it. Spare no detail. It was stupid to be hung up on it when it was none of his business.

“Ms Thorne,” he said, “do you know a woman called Elian’la? A drow, from Mythen Thaelas like me?”

Ms Thorne pursed her lips. “The name sounds familiar, but you know how I am with faces.”

“Couldn’t you look her up?”

“You know the rules,” she said, tapping a nail on her ledger. “You’re a lovely boy, but I can’t go giving out private information just because I like you. If she visits, I’m certain you’ll run into her sooner or later.”

That’s what I’m worried about. Ashenivir made his way to the library and laid out his notes. He’d avoided going to the Haven since Catriona had told him about Elian’la—his desire to run into her again to learn more of her dancing had turned to dread at the idea of having to talk to her. Did she know Rizeth was here? Catriona must have told her. Did she know Ashenivir was with her former partner, resent him for not saying anything?

And what had happened between her and Rizeth?

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: oh Ashenivir. my poor sweet boy. oh Rizeth. my poor sweet idiot.

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Four

Fri, 27 Feb 2026 09:56:00 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Four

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Innapropriate Use of Dungeons & Dragons Spells, Anal Sex, the intimacies of post-scene hair care, uh-oh here comes the angst train
Wordcount: 5254

AO3 / Neocities

The past few days of meetings had made Rizeth feel as though he were right back in Mythen Thaelas. The meeting rooms at the Tower of the Order were dark enough to pass for the Underdark, and the maze of petty paperwork required to even begin arranging a face-to-face with the Blackstaff about this as-yet hypothetical exchange program between her college and the Arcanum was as familiar as his own reflection.

The comfortable bureaucracy of it all served to set him on an even keel. An unease had lingered within him since his argument with Ashenivir, but nothing more had come of it. Ashenivir seemed entirely focused on his studies again, and hadn’t brought up anything related to dynamic—theirs or anyone else’s—at all. So Rizeth decided he’d managed, however clumsily, to set things right, and put the whole incident from his mind.

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Author's Notes: i really put everything you could want in this one. fantasy skype. surprise Lyzira appearance. animated bed bondage. ex-girlfriend angst. all the hits. (i hope you're enjoying the climb up this rollercoaster. it's gonna be a fun ride down!)

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Three

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 09:45:07 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Three

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Spanking, Angst/Argument
Wordcount: 4505

AO3 / Neocities

“The thing is,” River said, “is that he’s being sneaky.”

“You think he’s doing something bad? Wait, slow down, Ashenivir, I didn’t get that at all—show me again.”

Ashenivir took Mara’s hands and moved them back to the starting position. Her frown of concentration included her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, and was the kind of adorable he didn’t want to mention in case it distracted her. They’d cleared enough space in River and Cain’s small kitchen for him to teach—well, try to teach—her a few basic patterns. She’d begged to learn, because she’d gotten entirely too enamoured with Xalin at the welcome dinner and wanted to impress her the next time she visited the Haven.

“No, I don’t think he’s doing anything bad.” River flipped another card over. He was sat on the kitchen table—now shoved up against a wall with no space for its own chairs, which in turn had been exiled to a precarious stack in the living room—entertaining himself with solitaire whilst they practised. “But I do think he’s up to something, and that has me worried.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: uh-oh, the boys are having a mild disagreement i'm sure nothing will come of this

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A Question of Trust - Chapter Two

Tue, 27 Jan 2026 13:45:56 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter Two

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Fluff, Flirting, Beach Episode, Oral Sex
Wordcount: 6821

AO3 / Neocities

Cool white stone beneath his feet, salt breeze gentle against his skin, the quiet rush of his own breath above the steady thud of his heart. Ashenivir absently hummed the accompanying devotional to himself, but it was the motion that cleared his mind, not the song; the movement that lifted him beyond his body and let him float, free of worry and racing thought. All his life he’d searched for ways to calm his mind. He hadn’t realised how much dancing had been one until he’d come back to it.

It wasn’t quite as good as floating under Rizeth’s hands, but one might argue he was lately very biased in that regard.

Alongside him, Zelka span out towards the edge of the altar, and he followed her steps as he had all her others this morning. A leap took them back to the centre, flowing down into a roll that brought her back to her feet—and sent him stumbling and scrambling to avoid greeting the morning by smashing his face into the stone.

“An excellent first attempt,” Zelka said, offering a steadying hand.

“At least I arrived too late to embarrass myself in front of the acolytes,” he replied, accepting it. His decision to come had been partly to get out of the apartment, since a full tenday of not doing so save for one party felt indolent in the extreme, and partly to make use of the Haven’s pools, which were both larger and cooler than the bath he’d enchanted. Leaving the bed, however, took a lot longer than he’d intended—when Rizeth’s hands were on him, he lost all track of time.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: i'm sure nothing that happened in this chapter is going to have any consequences whatsoever (:

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A Question of Trust - Chapter One

Fri, 16 Jan 2026 10:36:51 GMT

A Question of Trust - Chapter One

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Chapter Specific Tags: Hand Job, the beginnings of Rizeth's idiocy
Wordcount: 4397

AO3 / Neocities

“This isn’t going to work.”

“Ashenivir—”

“Ignoring it isn’t going to fix it.”

Rizeth’s arms wrapped around his waist from behind. “You’re right,” he said. “It is too small.”

The bed—once Rizeth’s, now theirs, a concept that kept making him giddy—sat innocently against the wall, sheets rumpled from a long, lazy morning that had turned into another long, lazy afternoon. For the past few nights, the midsummer heat and attendant humidity had seen them both tossing and turning through reverie, the discomfort of two bodies crowded into a bed built for one only barely outweighed by the distasteful notion of sleeping alone again.

Rizeth kissed his neck. “I can acquire a heat shield from the Watchful Order. That ought to make things more bearable.”

“Even you can’t maintain focus on a spell whilst you’re asleep, Master,” Ashenivir said. He tilted his head to allow Rizeth better access to skin already marked with a half-dozen bitten bruises. His remark gained him a new one, and he let out a quiet moan. “We could…we should…”

“Yes, Ra’soltha?” Rizeth traced light circles over his hipbones. “If you have something to say, then say it, before I become inclined to take your voice.”

“We should get a new bed,” Ashenivir gasped out in a rush. “I mean I…I think it might be more comfortable if it was…if we both…fit. Better.” His disjointed thoughts were only half because of Rizeth’s touch. It had only been nine days since midsummer, all of which they’d spent together in the apartment—saving the brief excursions Rizeth had made to get food—and nine days was nowhere near long enough to be suggesting things like that. Especially when he wasn’t the one who could afford to buy them.

Rizeth pulled him around into a kiss that seemed not to mind his presumption. “Tomorrow,” he said, when they broke for breath, “we will find a carpenter and order something. You may choose whatever you like.”

“Are you sure?”

“Would I say it if I weren’t?”

Ashenivir couldn’t hold his gaze. “It’s just…you keep giving me things and I can’t repay any of it, and I—”

Rizeth tipped his chin up. “Gifts are not to be repaid. I enjoy seeing you happy, xi’hum. That is all there is to it.”

Although sweat pooled everywhere their skin touched—neither of them had dressed properly in days, and today was no exception—Ashenivir pressed closer, twining his arms around Rizeth’s neck. Even awake, being beyond touching distance was intolerable. “I think it’s a little more than that, Master.”

“Oh?”

“You like watching me choose things. You like seeing me struggle, so you can have the satisfaction of seeing me overcome.” He rose on the balls of his feet, bringing his lips within kissing distance of Rizeth’s. “You like making me work for my rewards.”

“You know your Master very well, it seems,” Rizeth murmured.

“Of course I do,” Ashenivir said, moth wings uncurling to flutter beneath his sternum as he spoke. “I love him.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: here we go again! i'm readying my bunker because Things Are Going To Happen in this fic that may uh. make you want to throw things at me ajdasdjalk (you'll enjoy it i promise. it's artisinal hand-crafted angst)

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A Question of Trust Masterpost

Wed, 31 Dec 2025 08:39:48 GMT

Summary

Rizeth’s previous attempt at romance ended in disaster. This time, he’s determined things will be different.

He and Ashenivir have chosen to remain in Waterdeep, intending to spend the summer indulging in scenes and venturing into the strange waters of intentional courtship. Nothing about it feels easy; everything about it feels right. That alone makes any difficulty more than worth the effort.

But when Rizeth’s history comes back to haunt him, he’ll have to find a way to avoid repeating the mistakes of his past—or risk losing Ashenivir for good.

General Tags: D/s Dynamics, Master/Apprentice, BDSM, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, a sexy miscellany of Forgotten Realms and D&D headcanons, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Restraints Inappropriate Use of Dungeons & Dragons Spells

Each chapter will have additional chapter-specific tags.

Chapters

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen

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A Study In Stockings

Sun, 26 Oct 2025 11:05:44 GMT

A Study In Stockings

Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons / Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Ashenivir Zauvym/Rizeth Velkon’yss
Tags: D/s dynamics, Master/apprentice, Kinktober 2025, Married!Boys, Intercrural/Thigh-Fucking, Lingerie, Fluff
Wordcount: 2119

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: this concept has been kicking around in my drafts for forever, and now it is finally time for the world to see Rizeth losing his mind about Ashenivir In Stockings.

A year of marriage scarcely seemed credible, yet a year it had been. A year of Ashenivir being his in every way possible; a year of the phrase ‘my husband’ tripping near constantly from his tongue—and setting his heart afire when he heard it from Ashenivir’s. A whole year. Taking him to dinner was the absolute bare minimum of celebration he deserved, in Rizeth’s view.

“I have a surprise for you when we get home,” Ashenivir said, as they lingered over dessert.

“Oh?”

“It’s our anniversary,” he said, visibly pleased to utter the words. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“You do nice things for me every day.”

“I follow our rules every day. This is different.”

“Is that so?” Rizeth held another forkful of cake out to him. “And what manner of mischief have you concocted this time, apprentice?”

Ashenivir swallowed his bite and licked chocolate from his lips. “If I told you that, Master, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: honestly the biggest challenge for this was not dropping Significant Wedding Related Lore in a kinktober fic before i’ve. you know. posted the Wedding Arc.

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Hush

Wed, 22 Oct 2025 13:07:38 GMT

Hush

Fandom: Forgotten Realms
Rating: E
Warnings: None
Relationship: Zeth'rinn Baenre/Iphs Nydalla
Tags: Kinktober 2025, Quiet Sex, Knife Kink, Blade Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Fingerfucking, Trans Male Character
Wordcount: 2107

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: In which Iphis makes an unexpected appearance in Zeth’rinn’s room to deliver both pleasure, and a dangerous instruction from Matron Nydalla. Written for Kinktober 2025, for the prompt ‘Quiet Sex’.

There are a limited number of things Zeth’rinn expects to find on his bed when he returns to his room after weapons-practice, and Iphis Nydalla isn’t one of them. A thing he’d quite like to find, certainly, but given that his bunk in the Bregan D’aerthe safehouse is, well, in the Bregan D’aerthe safehouse, which is notably located inside the Clawrift and not on some pretty West Wall thoroughfare, it’s not a thing he ever imagined would happen outside of some very involved late-night fantasies.

“Good session, Baenre?” Iphis asks, sweeping his too-blue eyes over Zeth’rinn’s sweaty form. He’s reclined on the bed, comfortable as you please, toying with a knife.

Zeth’rinn curses and slams his door shut, lest any of the others traipsing back to their rooms catch sight of the interloper. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I visit our favourite pet intruder?” Iphis says, affecting a pout.

“Alright, correction—how are you here?”

Iphis shrugs, an elegant roll of shoulders. “You broke into our house, you know the fundamentals of such things.”

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: is it even Kinktober is Zeth’rinn isn’t making terrible decisions about the Nydallas?

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An Unfamiliar Experience

Sun, 12 Oct 2025 09:18:27 GMT

An Unfamiliar Experience

Fandom: Original Work
Rating: E
Relationship: Witch/Familiar, F/M
Tags: Original Characters, Trans Male Character, Witch/Familiar, Dom/sub, Dom Bottom/Sub Top, Femdom, Dirty Talk, Leash, Vaginal Sex, Magical Genital Alteration
Wordcount: 2510

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: In which Thistle’s witch bestows a new set of equipment on him. Written for Kinktober 2025, for the prompt ‘Dom Bottom/Sub Top’

To gain a magical core, Thistle had pledged himself in service for a year and a day to a witch called Amaranthe. In exchange for doing her bidding, she would, at the end of his term as her familiar—as such an arrangement made him—open his heart and place a sliver of her magic inside it. Such a gift would make him a witch in his own right—and quite a powerful one too, he hoped, since Amaranthe had a reputation best described as a natural disaster waiting to happen.

He’d expected his year and a day to be hard work. To be scrubbing floors and pulling weeds, hanging laundry and harvesting herbs; all the things he’d grown sick of doing at home, their mundanity given sparkling new purpose by the reward they promised.

So far, whilst his stint as a familiar had indeed involved those things, it had also involved a good deal more unusual services than he’d ever anticipated providing.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: i’m already in love with these two why are they so cute.

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The Box

Wed, 08 Oct 2025 11:33:08 GMT

The Box

Fandom: Original Work
Rating: E
Relationship: Tentacles/Reader
Tags: Sci-fi, Tentacle Sex, Consentacles, Exhibitionism, Second Person POV, Reader Insert, Trans Male/Transmasc Reader, No Reader Pronouns, T-dick, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex
Wordcount: 2429

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: In which you try out a unique entertainment at a new club. Written for Kinktober 2025, for the prompts ‘exhibitionism’, and ‘tentacle sex’

Author's Notes: this fic is written with a trans-masculine reader in mind, though no gendered pronouns are used, and uses the words ‘t-dick’ and ‘cunt’ to describe genitalia. if those words aren’t your vibe, i’d skip this one.

The club only opened last month, yet already it’s become something of a station-wide obsession, despite the fact that anyone who seriously decides to call their place of business Club Climax deserves to fall immediately and unceremoniously into bankruptcy.

Several of your friends attended the grand opening, and have been badgering you to come with them every weekend since. Specifically, they’ve been insisting that you need to take a turn in The Box.

“Seriously, it’s amazing,” your best friend tells you. “You especially will absolutely love it.”

But when you press for details—from her, from any of them—they just blush and laugh and say they’re not going to spoil the experience. Your increasingly frustrated net-searches don’t tell you anything either—even in the grand tell-all of the web, everyone seems committed to keeping the contents of The Box a secret.

You don’t like caving to peer pressure, but you like being out of the loop even less, especially when the people in the loop are dropping five-star ratings on whatever’s inside it. So eventually—inevitably—you find yourself in line for Club Climax, alongside three of your very excited, very pre-drunk friends.

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Author's Notes: what can i say. the world needs more x-reader t-boy tentacle porn, and i am but a humble provider of such needs.

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Obsession - twisted little game

Sun, 05 Oct 2025 15:12:48 GMT

Obsession - twisted little game

Fandom: Forgotten Realms / War of the Spider Queen
Rating: E
Warnings: Non-con, Intoxication, Humiliation
Relationship: Vizaeth Xunhrae Thaezyr/Pharaun Mizzrym
Tags: Toxic Relationship, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Oral, Semi-Public Humiliation
Wordcount: 2879

AO3 / Neocities

Summary: In which Pharaun finds a way to circumvent the restrictions of the geas and take a cruel vengeance on Vizaeth. Written for Kinktober 2025, for the prompts ‘humilation’ and ‘intoxication’.

The geas burns beneath his sternum. Rancid magic, rotten little claws digging into the muscle of his heart—in the dead of night, staring at the ceiling, he can hear that accursed name echoing inside his heartbeat: Vizaeth, Vizaeth, Vizaeth fucking Thaezyr.

He’s tried to get rid of it. Oh, how he’s tried—hours of reading, scouring the deepest recesses of Sorcere’s libraries, creeping about like some common criminal in the fouler parts of the city in search of someone, something, anything that will rid him of this infection.

Pharaun rubs at his chest, the habit already tedious. None of his efforts have yet turned up a way to untangle the mangled skein of magic encasing his heart like Lolth’s own webs, so he must perforce find other ways to compensate his suffering. Particularly after the rat decided to blind and then rape him. That little stunt he did not, ironically, see coming. Up until then, even with the geas, he’d thought Vizaeth still squarely under his thumb. The boy was so obsessed, so devoted—charmingly, naively devoted, the perfect slave and scapegoat—that Pharaun never thought he’d grow an actual spine.

The influence of the Dyrr apprentice and his friends, no doubt. A touch of power rubbing off, making him think he can just get away with things, the way real people can. Well. Geas or not, it’s about time Vizaeth was reminded of his place in the natural order.

( Read more... )

Author's Notes: first time writing Pharaun POV and this is what I do with it. you’re welcome? anyway, happy kinktober! as is tradition, Vizaeth is having a Horrible Time <3

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