WIP excerpt

Sep. 2nd, 2017 12:21 am
vulgarweed: (patient-by-kcscribbler)
Keeping this just on DW/LJ for now to keep silence on Tumblr.

Some of you know I'm a big fan of Larry Townsend's 1971 porn pastiche The Sexual Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (I wrote a long essay about it here. Aren't you glad we live in a world where the author of The Leatherman's Handbook also wrote a filthy Sherlock Holmes book? I sure am.)

BUT the sad thing about that book, is that it ends after his version of "The Final Problem." There is no "Adventure of the Empty House" and no happy Holmes/Watson reunion.

If ever there was a lacuna that cried out for fix-it fic, that's it. But I've been in some ways much more intimidated by Townsend's style and legacy than Doyle's. Well, at least until someone at the Sherlock kink meme on Tumblr requested H/W public sex at the Diogenes Club. (The Diogenes is a hardcore BDSM club in Townsendverse). I just can't resist a kink meme prompt that speaks to me.

Yeah. I'm writing it. It's called "Full House Tonight."

Excerpt )

Spoiler alert: Watson's gonna have a wild night.
vulgarweed: (tale_grew_by_nerwende)
Originally posted to AO3 6/28/2017

Title: When Wind is In the Deadly East
Fandoms: Lord of the Rings + Sherlock fusion
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Eurus Holmes, Mycroft Holmes. As giant eagles.
Rating: T for some violence and incestuous ideation
Word count: 6754
Tags: All-Eagle AU, Holmes Siblings in Middle-earth and they are all Giant Eagles, overtones of incest, Undertones of Incest, The Final Problem Except They're All Giant Eagles, Fandom Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Holmes Family

Summary: “Brother mine, the dark clouds gathering have long stalked you, from the days of our home eyrie, and at last I shall tell you the full tale of our lost sister.”

“It was news to me that we had one. It would have gone less ill for us had I learned of this sooner.”

“You remember nothing, then. I thought as much. I shall tell you the full tale of Eurys our sister, burned through and corrupted by the East Wind where long she soared in circles, with the flames of madness in her eyes and the soot of Mordor in her feathers. The lost nestmate long imprisoned since our first eyrie burned. You were barely more than hatchlings, you and she, when first she tried to slay you. ”

***

The third and final Eagle-centric Tolkien story for my Fandom Trumps Hate bidder lydiabennet (Teasel). I so enjoyed our email exchange with your ideas - you inspired me to write a story that never would have existed otherwise.

Massive thanks to my betas Tyellas and iwantthatcoat!

***

I am WAY behind on replying to comments on this one. Like, I haven't done it at all and it's been haunting me. I have to go back into the mindset of writing this weird thing, I think. It's had the fewest readers of anything I've written in years (for reasons I think are pretty obvious) but the people who read it REALLY loved it. I'm a little overwhelmed.
vulgarweed: (rain_by_aurora_starwing)
ha, forgot to post this one at all!

Fandoms: Sherlock/The Silmarillion
Rating: NC-17/Explicit
Pairing: Sérelókë/Iaun/Ossë
Tags/Content: Tentacles, Merman Sherlock, Shapeshifting, Ossë Has Tentacles Because He Wants To, Dubious Consentacles, Consentacles, Rough Sex, Competitive sex, Ainur Are Weird, BDSM, Dom/sub, Water Sex, Double Penetration, Possessive Sherlock, Interspecies, Threesome - M/M/M, Dom Sherlock, Demanding Power Bottom John, Song Battles, Bathing, Bondage, Power Exchange

Summary: Slightly spoiled by the safety of Menegroth, Iaun wanders far from the city and takes a swim in the River Sirion - and finds himself in the clutches of questionable Ossë, the Maia of water and storms who was seduced for a time by Melkor himself. Iaun is not pleased by his concern-trolling and kink-shaming about the nature of his relationship with Sérelókë. Sérelókë is even less pleased.

Insult is given; satisfaction is demanded.

In Storm He Delights at AO3

Part Three of the Their Terrible Sharpness series, which began with With Both Hands Thou Shalt Give It and continued with The Dark Fire Will Avail You.
vulgarweed: (OK by london_fan)
This was first published in the program book for Sherlock Seattle/Watson Washington; it had to stay exclusive until after the con.

Breakfast Where the News is Read at AO3
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Word court: 1226
Rating: PG
Warnings: PTSD, allusions to war crimes

John Watson is just fine with being in danger - because it's the quiet, slow times that often feel more dangerous.

This story riffs on the opening scenes of “The Adventure of the Cardboard Box.” Title comes from “The Unknown Soldier” by the Doors.
vulgarweed: (handbyarwen_elvenfair)
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Pairing: Frodo Baggins/Rosie Cotton/Samwise Gamgee
Rating: T for now, will likely go up in part 2
Warnings/Content: None really. Polyamory negotiations, implied PTSD

Summary: Bookverse: post-quest, post-Scouring of the Shire). When Frodo falls ill while Sam is off planting trees to restore the Shire with the aid of Galadriel’s gift, it falls to Rosie to help tend to him. His wounds go much deeper than flesh - and so does Rosie’s healing offer.


In Due Times and Perfect Measure at AO3

Written for the monthly Polyshipping Day challenge at Tumblr and AO3
vulgarweed: (the game by isaac_of_nine)
I’m almost 4000 words into an Irene/Mary kinkfest for my Season of Kink card, and also for Femslash WhateverMonthIWindUpPostingItIn, and it’s giving me fits. It’s all over the place. It’s a beautiful hot mess disaster with a contemporary setting but full of 19th century literature damage, and in first person for some godforsaken reason.

I think the only way it makes sense is if you know that in this story my Irene and Mary are about half Raffles and Bunny and about half Wanda and Severin.

Lockpicking and Leather )

hahaha this is going to run so much longer than I thought. But I WILL make this pairing catch on if it kills me.
vulgarweed: (OK by london_fan)
Fandom: Sherlock
PairingThreesome: John/Mary/Sherlock
Rating: NC-17/E
Warnings/Content notes: Shaving, Waxing, Bondage, Sensory Deprivation, Established Poly Relationship, Temperature Play, Knifeplay, mild Objectification, PWP (Porn With Punchline)

Summary: Captain John Watson endures bondage and sensory deprivation, among other enhanced interrogation techniques. Worst of all: manscaping.

Consensual kink play, established John/Sherlock/Mary poly triad. Almost certainly a scene from Genetic Markers-verse, but just a few lines strongly suggest that.

Written for the "Sensory Deprivation" or "Shaving/Waxing" squares on my Season of Kink card.


Our Doctor, Clean-Shaven at AO3.


Not generally a kink of mine - or at least it wasn't when I started! :D
vulgarweed: (tale_grew_by_nerwende)
Written for the Porn Battle Amnesty challenge on Dreamwidth.

Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Pairing: Aragorn/Watcher in the Water
Rating: NC-17/E
Warnings/Content notes: Rape/non-con, tentacles, nonconsentacles, tentacle porn with no redeeming social value.

Summary: During the all-too-brief years of Balin's reclamation of Khazad-dûm, the Ranger Aragorn of the Dúnedain embarks on a mission to gather information and warn the Dwarves of peril. The Doors of Durin are still shut, and the peril that lurks nearby is one no one had imagined.

Prompt: Aragorn/Watcher in the Water, tentacles, lust, pheromones, wet, indignity, body, shame, undressed, slime, dark, mud

A Ranger, Caught Off His Guard at AO3

I don't think I've ever written straight-up tentacle porn before, believe it or not!
vulgarweed: (OK by london_fan)
Fandom: Sherlock
Rating: Explicit/NC-17
Pairing Threesome: Mrs. Hudson/Sherlock Holmes/Irene Adler
Content Tags: BDSM, Paddling, Anal Plug, Pegging, Femdom, Submission, Domestic Discipline, Naked Male Clothed Female, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Dom Irene Adler, Dom Mrs. Hudson, Mild Humiliation, Cunnilingus, foot worship, Roleplay, Threesome - F/F/M
Summary: The ageing housing stock of central London is picturesque but delicate, and often harbours destructive pests who wreak havoc on the fragile structures. If such damage is spotted, building owners and managers are advised to contact a skilled professional who is well-versed in the control of vandalous creatures.


Mrs. Hudson's Guide to Care and Control of Household Pests (When to Call a Professional) at AO3

For the Get Mrs Hudson Laid fest!

Inspired by one line at the end of The Passion That Slays and Recovers, when Irene says to Sherlock: "And besides, your landlady has threatened to hire me to make you apologise for damaging her walls.” I decided to go ahead and write that. (Though I don't know if this story takes place in the same 'verse as that one.)
vulgarweed: (rain_by_aurora_starwing)
This is one of the coolest fandom gifts I've ever received: Sunhawk loved that story so much she commissioned an artist, elfrightsactivist, to draw a scene from it, and the result is AMAZING!

Under the cut because it's big and spoilery (though, honestly, it's a Tolkien crossover fic, so I don't see how the possibility of [THING THAT HAPPENS] is really a surprise to anyone. It is fairly SFW (some strategically covered nudity), unlike the story itself (drawing the actual sex scene from this story would be . . . a specialized task I wouldn't want to impose on anyone. :D)

LOOK! )

Of course it works best as an illustration for the story, so I've added it here.

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
vulgarweed: (OK by london_fan)
I've been lax on posting the updates of this fic here - so sorry!

At AO3


Explicit
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
M/M
Fandoms: Sherlock/The Silmarillion
Rating: NC-17/E
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Sherlock/Gothmog
Content notes/warnings/enticements: Shapeshifting, Kinslaying, More Shapeshifting, Elemental Whip Magic, BDSM, Rope Bondage, Dubious Consent, Even More Dubious Tolkienian Theology, Crack, crackfic, Dom Sherlock, Sub Everybody Else, Dark Fuck Prince Running Loose in Middle-earth, Bang a Balrog (Get It On), Interspecies, Crossover

Summary: "It's a bonny thing," said he. "Just see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed.” - Sherlock Holmes, The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle, Arthur Conan Doyle

Sequel to With Both Hands Thou Shalt Give It. After Melkor murdered Finwë and stole the Silmarils, fleeing to the lands across the sea, Fëanor, the Silmarils’ maker, led an army in hot pursuit to avenge his father and reclaim his treasure, swearing an oath that would doom them all. And the Fëanorians were followed by the eccentric, brilliant, and fearlessly kinky Maia detective called Sérelókë, who can always be trusted to stick his nose (and other parts) into the meat of any fascinating and dangerous crime. In Beleriand, he will find a rich playground for all his passions, and meet a companion who will change his life forever.

Chapter 1:Aftermath Prologue - The Tale of the Journey to the East

In a time and place of safety after the Battle Under the Stars (and the main events of this story) Sérelókë tells the tale of how he came to cross the sea to Beleriand. He will take his sweet time - he has a captive audience.

Chapter 2: Elen Sila Lumenn Omentielvo

A star shines on the hour of their meeting.

Chapter 3: I Am More Sweet Than Other Meat

There's only one way to deal with creatures like the residents of the Valley of Dreadful Death - insult them!

Chapter 4: The Battlefield Under the Stars

Iaun would not choose to be bystander to a great battle - but Fëanor's fall is terrifying. And Iaun's new friend Sérelókë is more terrifying still.

Chapter 5: Where There's a Whip, There's a Way

Sérelókë confronts Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, before the very gates of Angband. And Iaun discovers something about his new companion - and something about himself as well. (Specifically, a raging voyeurism kink.)

This is the chapter where that rating, that pairing, and those tags, all get justified.
vulgarweed: (ringbybleu-unicorn)
For both Polyshipping Day and Halloween, I bring you

a 1,000-word PWP written entirely in rhyming couplets.

Sauron and Thuringwethil are summoned to their Master's throne to serve His pleasure - and they're not sure they'll survive it. Mind the warnings.

Smoothly now she changed her shape,
Sharp teeth upon her master’s nape,
“My lord, my Thu, what’s your command,
Kiss of my mouth, stroke of my hand,
My leathern wings, my silken thighs,
I’ll give my all to feel thee rise.”

She pricked his neck; he let her feed
It cost him nothing just to bleed,
Angband’s lieutenant, Sauron bright
Said, “Lady, we have a call tonight,
He’ll have us both before His throne,
He’ll have all our pleasures known.”


The Lay of Nasquë (Bondage) at AO3.


Clearly my case of Tolkien damage is highly advanced and irreversible. I found this a lot easier to write than one might think.
vulgarweed: (the game by isaac_of_nine)
Iaun stood still and silent, and gave but one terse nod. “Have you some power of sight?”

“Observation,” the stranger said. “You are Elven, but not Noldor, not Vanyar, and only tenuously Teleri. Clearly Moriquendi, you’ve never been to Valinor. Your green raiment marks you as one who has often dwelt in the forest, but you are not quite so . . . feral . . .as some, so I deduce that you are one of the people of Lenwë, who heeded the summons of Oromë at first but later turned aside down the Anduin. You adjust your body weight as one who has worn armor in the past but now does not, preferring stealth in what you see as your maimed and weakened condition. You have a steel sword, well-made if plain and simple, and it is not of Noldorin make - oh no, it definitely wouldn’t be - so clearly you have had contact with at least someone who has had at some time had contact with the Naugrim, most likely by way of Doriath. You know how to use it, but the callouses on your hands and the way you carry yourself tell me that you are more confident with your bow and arrows - or at least you were before you sustained a wound to your shoulder that did not heal as completely as it should. Therefore, you were wounded in battle with the cruelest of enemies, who prevented you from access to immediate healing, most likely by taking you prisoner for a time. Though you have your own skill in healing - I can tell that by the scent of the herbs in that pouch you keep close to your chest - you were not able to bring it to bear enough to repair the damage fully. It must have been the battle where Lenwë’s son Denethor fell, was it not? You were taken by surprise while trying to help a comrade. You have a strong moral principle, but you are wary and slow to trust. Oh, and you are small of stature among your people, and you hoped to compensate for that in deeds of renown. You are motivated to take risks, and you are drawn to dangerous situations.”


***

Once I get back into the groove of it, Sérelókë is every bit as fun to write as his London counterpart. Maybe even more so.
vulgarweed: (elen-sila_by_pegkerr)
Beleriand, before the rising of the Sun and Moon:

And in the forest, an uneasy place in the best of times, Iaun was brought up short by a sound. Creeping slowly as he had long known how to do - yet hindered by the sinews of shoulder and thigh that no longer flexed as seamlessly as they once had - Iaun crept forward beneath the cover of the great ferns, one hand on his walking stick and the other on the hilt of his sword. Hoping that his silence would hold, and he could keep the advantage of surprise should this person turn out to be hostile.

An Elf he seemed, like Iaun himself, and yet clearly of a different clan; he had the rich robes and dark hair and grey eyes of the Noldor, and a haughtiness in his bearing beyond even the greatest of them. Iaun was resolved then to slink away, and let this strange one never lay eyes upon him if it could be helped, for surely no good would come of it.

And it was to no avail, for Iaun stepped upon a branch that cracked beneath his feet as if Yavanna herself had betrayed him; and a star shone upon his location as if even Elbereth herself wished him seen. The gaze of the lank stranger landed upon him, and Iaun found himself beguiled by the gleam of the sea in his eyes. The Enemy could deceive with fairness for a time, and yet Iaun felt that he was not in danger, not presently - naked and exposed as he felt beneath that stare.

“You have been in Angband, I perceive,” the stranger said.
vulgarweed: (adam&pepperGOE)
Recurring Slope Lineae" at AO3

Grown-up Adam can still make things happen, if he isn't careful - but the things he finds too important to mess with, those are the real miracles.
vulgarweed: (tale_grew_by_nerwende)
Fandom: The Hobbit
Rating: NC-17/E
Pairing/Characters: Bilbo/Thorin/Beorn
Word Count: 12,001
Tags: Threesome - M/M/M, Bear Kink, Size Kink, Size Difference, Body Worship, Body Hair, Shapeshifting, sharp teeth, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Rimming, Top Bilbo, Bottom Bilbo, Switchy Bilbo, Food Kink, Honey, Butter, Not Quite Over the Bestiality Line But Within Sight of It Because Shapeshifting, Did You Know Bears Have a Penis Bone?, Animal Play, Animal Transformation, Bearginshield, PWP

Summary: “There was a growling sound outside, and a noise as of some great animal scuffling at the door. Bilbo wondered what it was, and whether it could be Beorn in enchanted shape, and if he would come in as a bear and kill them. He dived under the blankets and hid his head, and fell asleep again at last in spite of his fears.” [The Hobbit, Chapter 7 "Queer Lodgings," J.R.R. Tolkien)

That wasn’t entirely fear Bilbo felt when he first saw Beorn change - seems our hobbit has a bear kink (figuratively and literally). Beorn and Thorin manage to co-operate long enough to indulge him.

Written for the “Animal Play” square in Seasons of Kink

Author's Note:
HUGE thanks to Winter_of_our_Discontent and Jinglebell for providing close-reading eyes and enthusiastic cheerleading, and to everyone at #antidiogenes.

Like most of my Hobbit and LOTR fic, this is a hopeless mishmash of book and movie ‘verse. I take elements I like from both and I don’t know how to do it any other way. I don’t think this quite merits a bestiality tag, because Beorn is almost always mostly in his humanlike form here. Mostly. Others may disagree. You might. You were warned.

For Mildredandbobbin - I know I hoped to have this done near our early July birthdays. Turns out it's belated even for the Baggins birthdays. (In my defense, I didn't know it was going to run to nearly 12k).

Honeypot at AO3

Enjoy!
vulgarweed: (porn!)
I know hobbits traditionally give gifts on their birthdays, rather than receive them, but I thought it would be nice to get Bilbo spectacularly laid on his this time. (And besides, he both gives and receives in this fic!)

Have an excerpt from "Honeypot," the 12,000-word Bilbo/Thorin/Beorn PWP I hope to have finished and posted by the end of the week. Under a cut because it's long and it's filthy, and maybe someone out there isn't so into the size kink and the shapeshifting bear kink.

But if you are . . .

a bit of Honeypot )

Happy Birthday, Bagginses! (Sorry Frodo. No, he didn't tell you everything about his adventures. Don't look!)
vulgarweed: (handbyarwen_elvenfair)
It's official. That Bilbo/Thorin/Beorn thing I'm working on is now a 10,000-word PWP.

Your word for the day, should you choose to accept it, is baculum. (That word doesn't actually appear in the story. You can't just throw Latin around in Tolkien fic. The concept certainly does, er, come up.)

GOOD OMENS EXCHANGE 2015 IS OPEN FOR SIGNUPS!!!
I have co-modded this beast for 11 years now! Tendy-one! Which is much to short a time to spend among such excellent and admirable fans. I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.

I can't isolate a good excerpt from "Honeypot," the Bilbo's Raging Bear Kink fic yet, since, like I said, 10k PWP.

So have an excerpt from "The Ginger Bush League," which is a Sherlock AU heist caper sex farce (with Sherlock/John as the brilliant detective and his bodyguard-cum-lover-cum-sidekick and Irene/Mary as the brilliant criminal and her own.)

***

“Wait a minute,” Mary said. She had thought the matter of Irene’s duplicity had already shown all its layers in this instance, and found herself exhausted, furious, and yet a little relieved at the revelation that there might be another revelation still. She rather peevishly found herself wishing that Irene might stop revealing things that didn’t involve taking off her clothes. It was getting on towards bedtime. “Our real object? Wasn’t that the--”

“Yes, and we’ve that well in hand, you can be sure. But I found that the hound on our trail was no ordinary mutt. You might have heard of that detective who’s gone all viral? A Mr. Sherlock Holmes?”

“The one with the hat?” Mary said dubiously.

“Rather more than meets the eye. Not that what meets the eye is objectionable,” Irene said, arching an eyebrow.

Well, Irene had never claimed to be a gold star lesbian. Tin star, perhaps. Possibly zinc, or a nickel-plate alloy.

“You think he was getting close?” Mary asked incredulously.

“Oh, I know for sure he was,” Irene said. “He got quite a bit too close. And he’s very close even now.” Irene took Mary’s arm, and led her down the hallway to her windowed playroom, and pointed through the glass. Mary gasped - there was a man in there, bound quite thoroughly to one of Irene’s deluxe leather chairs (for their was no reason for her very well-paying victims to ever be uncomfortable in ways they didn’t wish to be, not when Irene’s art depended so much on very specific discomforts). But this one? A client, or a prisoner? He was a thin but well-built man wearing nothing but pricey black pants, artfully - and effectively bound - black ropes, and a black hood over his head. He had pale skin and long limbs, and absolutely none of the tell-tale signs of the terrified.

“How much does he know?” Mary asked.

“Oh, I would imagine nearly everything at this point,” Irene said.

“So . . . then, shall I?” Mary asked with a little sigh as her muscle memory started to shape the gun that was not in her hand.

Irene huffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh heavens, Mary, sometimes it’s so tedious that you’re a former assassin. You keep turning into that hammer that thinks every problem it sees is a nail.”
vulgarweed: (tree_by_aurora_starwing)
(reblogging from Tumblr, because I tend to lose track of things there. I think this idea is gold and it's a keeper.)

Ever since writing The Passion That Slays and Recovers, I’m kind of infatuated with Irene/Mary as a pairing.

So now I want to write ridiculous heist-caper hijinks where Irene Adler and Mary Morstan are the international criminal masterminds that Sherlock and John are obsessed with catching (and always falling just a teeeeeny bit short).

It would be heavy on the sex (I/M and S/J, and who knows, maybe various other combinations of the four), the humor, and the wildly implausible casefic crack, and very light on the angst and serious violence (think of my AdMor as less like MorMor and more like a kinky lesbian Raffles & Bunny.)

I know this pairing is rare-to-nonexistent, but HEY. THAT CAN CHANGE.

Would there be interest in this out there?

(I got a pretty good response on Tumblr and in the Antidiogenes chat.)

Think of it. There might have been a moment when S & J could have caught them, but it was decided all around that they were still all having too much fun. There might also have been a moment when I & M could have got away with stopping S & J's efforts to catch them forever - but it was decided not to, by the same people, for the same reason.

There must have been a time when they secretly joined forces against someone who horrified all of them.

Irene ties people up a lot. Strangely, no one subjected to this treatment seems to mind as much as they should.

Both pairings are totally in love, married, and devoted in their respective fucked-up ways - but none of the four holds sexual exclusiveness as a high priority, so smut possibilities are nice and flexible. (They all rank exclusiveness below dish-washing, as chores go. None of them is very fond of dish-washing. John is the only one who does it regularly - and he's jealous of Mary, because her partner is rich enough thanks to the jewel heists and high-end BDSM services to pay someone else to keep dirty dishes out of her line of vision at all times. He wonders sometimes if Sherlock couldn't pocket the occasional diamond or cane the occasional minor-noble arse to help keep up, the lazy aesthete of pure reason that he is.)

I DID IT!

Jul. 31st, 2015 09:35 pm
vulgarweed: (tree_by_aurora_starwing)
[livejournal.com profile] evadare_volney (who is me in another dimension) just submitted 7900 words of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea smut to Circlet Press for their open-call Jules Verne anthology.

It’s Aronnax/Conseil/Nemo. There is D/s power-jockeying and a steampunk tentacle fucking machine involved. And yes, it’s called “Poulp Friction” and I’m not even sorry *dodges rotten molluscs.*

So apparently I CAN make a deadline once in a blue moon!

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