The Middle Distance

A 221B drabble per day (whether it’s a Sherlockian fandom or not), drawn from the kinktober kink list!

Day 1: 1. Spanking | Sleepy Sex | Aphrodisiacs

A Boon to Diplomacy (The Hobbit, Bilbo/Thorin/Thranduil/Bard)

Day 2: 2. Dirty talk | Watersports | Forniphilia (Human Furniture)

A Firm Footing (Sherlock, Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes)

Day 3: 3. Public | Biting | Sthenolagnia (Strength/Muscles)

Chelicerae (The Silmarillion)


Thuringwethil kept a safe distance from the Mother of Darkness, though stirred was she by the scent of blood and susurration of spiked legs on spun silk. Her leathern wings arched above her head, and she expected to scrape a stone ceiling that was not there. For so thorough and deep was the Unlight that the Huntress’s victims perceived that they were to die in a cave, although in truth the open sky was above them, Varda’s stars overcome by the Gloomweaver’s work.

It was safest to watch her feed upon the first wanderers until they grew shriveled. Then Thuringwethil could slide through the shadows and gaze upon the intricate workings of Ungoliant’s jaws as they pierced and devoured and drained her prey’s life blood, replacing it with her viscous venom. Thuringwethil licked her own fangs in sympathetic lust.

“Draw close, if you dare. Eight eyes I have - I see you.”

Thuringwethil shivered at the voice. It could not have come from that mouth, occupied as it was in draining. Husks of Orcs, bones, fallen creatures of all descriptions, ichor spilled and scented. She let out a little moan. Ungoliant would have every right to slay her had she come to steal food, but she had not. Drinker of life’s-wine, she knelt down before her deity to offer her own blood.

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.

Note this is a different one than the clip I posted to Tumblr earlier. My block on this just broke and I couldn't be happier.

Sérelókë and Iaun reach Menegroth at last - and have a surprisingly illustrious escort.

***

A great causeway of stone stretched out ahead of them, narrow and high-walled, at a dizzying span above the rushing river. Certhasath hesitated at first, until the Elven maid turned around and smiled at him, calling softly - between their thighs both Sérelókë and Iaun could feel the great horse relax at her urging and begin the crossing, trusting her utterly.

“Why does she allow us to pass so easily?” Iaun asked. “I expected a far greater trial.”

“There has been a trial already, Iaun,” Sérelókë said. “She looked within me and she saw my true form. Any attempt to deceive would have turned her against me, and I am not accustomed to be so clearly seen. Yet it could be no other way - Lúthien is very much her mother’s daughter, and her mother is well aware of our coming.”

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.

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.

Fandoms: Sherlock (TV) / The Silmarillion and Other Histories of Middle-earth, J.R.R. Tolkien - works
Rating: Explicit
Pairing Type: Het
Word count: 6,757
Pairing: Sherlock/Ungoliant
Other Characters appearing: Yavanna, Manwë, Tulkas, Thorondor
Challenge/Collection: Category 5 Sex Hurricane Fest
Tags: Casefic, Murder Mystery, Interrogation, Bestiality, BDSM, Interspecies, Crossover, Giant Spider Sex, Yes I Went There, Bondage, Whipping, Xenosex, Shapeshifting, Top Sherlock, Sex Between Semi-Consenting Spiders, Oral Sex, You'd Call it Vaginal Sex If She Had a Vagina Which Technically She Doesn't, Spot the Pratchett Quote, Dub-con By Deception, Did I Mention Bestiality, Also Toplock If I Didn’t Mention That, Dom Sherlock, You Can’t Say I Didn’t Warn You

For the Category 5 Sex Hurricane Fest


Summary: Of all the residents of Valinor, the eccentric and disreputable Maia called Sérelókë would be the last person you’d expect a Valië to call upon in time of need. But Sérelókë is known for his observation and insights, and Yavanna Kementári will stop at nothing to learn the truth of who killed her beloved Trees, and why. Once set upon the trail, Sérelókë will also stop at nothing.

Really. I mean nothing.

And while I can’t take credit or blame for the original idea . . . oh wait, yes I can. I claimed my own prompt.

Notes:This story is not meant to reflect or imply any endorsement by the author of any acts depicted herein. Everything Sérelókë does is dirty, bad, wrong, and dangerous, and I just want to make sure you know I know that. If you, the reader, happen to be struggling with an issue related to the presence of a baleful evil from the Void in the form of a monstrous spider that devours light and vomits darkness, do not attempt to sexually dominate it.

I tried to find some survivors’ resources to link to, but I couldn’t. This might be because there aren’t any survivors.

  ***

This story was gang-beta’d and loved every second of it. Huge thanks to Marta, BlushingNewb, Winter_of_our_Discontent and Jinglebell for the careful and discerning eyes (eight eyes!) that helped this terrible fic become the best terrible it can be. Since I am an actual arachnophobe in real life, Winter found spider sex articles and vetted them for me to make sure the pictures weren’t too gross, and Jinglebell, who it turns out used to breed spiders, blessed me with a much better vocabulary for the Explicit parts - and inspired me to make it even dirtier.

With Both Hands Thou Shalt Give It, at AO3

( spoilery end notes )

My earlier posts about my, ahem, creative process are all now unfriendslocked. this one sheds some light on my motive.