Okay, by a landslide, y'all chose Loki for the Grumpy/Sunshine oneshot. But one thing I have to ask y'all...would Loki be the grump or the sunshine in this pairing? Because I can see a case for either way
A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 25 (Loki x fem! Reader Series)
Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.
Chapter Summary: In which you and Loki discuss the Prophet's words.
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad// Help Me Pay My Rent
Loki turned to you.
"What did he say? What did the Prophet require?" he asked.
You fiddled with your hands.
"He...he required that...he said that the only way to defeat Grendel...is...is to gather the trove items and shove them in the cauldron, and..."
"And?" Loki raised an eyebrow.
"And Stella must agree to come to him...but Loki, we can't! We can't do that!" you cried.
"Y/N, I know how dear she is to you; she is even dear to me. But...we have to," he replied.
You curled up your fists and dropped them at your side. Your face felt hot and your blood boiled.
"What! We...we can't! Do you realize they'll brutalize her! What things they'll do to her?!" you shouted, gesturing out into the air. "We can't put her through this!"
Loki folded his arms, his eyes serious at you. None of that mischievous twinkle.
"What if that doesn't happen?" Loki asked.
"But it will happen! It will happen without a doubt!" you replied.
Loki folded his arms.
"Did it ever occur to you that the Prophet has always been right?"
"Well, what if he's wrong?!"
"Y/N, you have to trust him."
"Trust him! We just burned his corpse!"
"The Prophet knows all of these things!"
"I can't let Stella be raped. Or even killed when they're done with her."
"They won't kill her."
"We might as well. We might as well be sending her to her grave," you spat.
Loki stepped forward and touched your shoulders.
"Listen, my love- I know...your heart was broken in the past. I know you were hurt by someone you trusted...but you have to trust the Prophet."
"And why would I do that?"
"Because he was your friend. Because he died to give you vital information. Because he said it's the only way to defeat Grendel."
You had to pause. He was right. You knew in the pit of your stomach he was right. A gust of wind blasted from outside.
"Then...if it's the only way to defeat Grendel...it's the only way to defeat Grendel," you said with a sigh.
Loki summoned the portal. You both stepped through it. This time, the lights were orange all around you. You got a strange floaty feeling, then you landed in the throne room.
It was pure chaos.
Armed soldiers were running around everywhere. People were shouting, even crying. Gaurds were talking to each other. You could smell the smear of paint as Asgard warriors were polishing their armor. There was a warmth of fires as a few small fireplaces were put to forge weapons. The rhythmic clanging of metal and of practice training was everywhere. The stench of sweat and of men was in the air.
Frigga looked over the crowd at the throne. Loki ran to her
"Father- gather the circle. Emergency meeting," he begged.
Frigga nodded. She then went to a few servants and sent them out. Something about it made your heart race.
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Your heart was still racing by the time you got to the throne room. You paced about.
"I'm going to vomit, I'm going to pass out," you said.
Loki got up.
"Come here, my love-let me hold you," he said.
He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You froze, then relaxed. He smelled of citrus. Of pleasant things. Dreamy things. Calming things. You took him too, keeping him close. He stayed there, and tears welled up, coming out despite you.
"Loki..." you muttered, letting it all come over you.
"Oh, my dear, you are brave, the bravest woman I know. All will be well."
"But we're about to face a battle; what if we die?"
"Then I will wait for you in Valhalla. And I will cross each lifetime and each realm to find you."
He kissed the top of your head. Soon everyone filed in. You sat beside Loki, clutching his hands.
"Well, what did he say, sweet lady?" Hal asked.
"The good news is that he knows about your true love. Her name is Catherine, and she lives in France."
Hal's eyes widened; he smiled.
"Well then, I shall tarry for her."
"But...there's a catch...The Prophet says that for Grendel to be defeated...Stella has to go to him."
Jonathan gripped the table.
"Grendel, that sick fuck!" he hissed. At once he got up out of the table; Robert put a hand on his shoulder and guided him down.
"It is the only way. The Prophet was killed while delivering this information; it would be what he would have wanted," Loki announced.
"But we can't let him do that to her!" cried Jonathan.
"No...I'll go."
Everyone's heads turned. Stella was quiet. But her eyes were sure. She put a hand around her beads, and then stood up.
Progress Update For EMBRACE FOND WOE: The Long Awaited Chapter 13!
Guys. I know. I’m so sorry. I’ve owed you all an update to Embrace Fond Woe for months. Life has been super busy and work is literally sucking up all my time and creative juice… however, I promise I AM working on it. It’s a long, difficult chapter full of revelations and I don’t want to release it until I’m happy that I’ve given it my best. Please be patient with me! In the mean time, I just wanted to say thank you SO much for your continued hits, kudos and comments!!! ❤️ I promise I'm not done with this story. Watch this space. - Carrie x
Fanfic writers-How many drafts do y'all usually write?
Usually, I write a rough draft, then revise it, then write a third draft, going through the Hemingway editor online. But lately I have been worrying if it's enough- if anyone who writes fanfics can help me, that would be great!
So I'm working on a request...and it's about to get dark and personal
It's a request that someone here commissioned me to write and I'm thinking about sharing it. Though it gets personal since I made it reflective and a portrayal of some of the darker periods of my life last year...of course with the angst of it all there will be Tom to love and guide and comfort and be supportive, but it might be triggering for some people to read!!! Just saying-would anyone be interested in reading it if I share?
Summary: When the English king Henry stands to take over the city of Harfleur, he says he and his army will pass peacefully...if you, the Governor's daughter, spend the night with him.
Word Count: 2784
Warnings: Dub-con and P in V Smut. I write this not because I think this would be okay in real life, but I write this because this is ultimately an erotic fantasy that I frankly think is hot and worth sharing with all of y'all. So read with discretion.
Smut begins at "You let go, already trying to catch your breath" and ends at "I’m going to talk to your father." Yeah, I know it's at the very end. Sorry, not sorry, the smut is crucial to this fic.
A/N: Hello! It's been a minute, but I had this idea forever! Ever since teh infamous Harlefleur scene from Henry V. I hope y'all like it!
The king of England arrived at the gates, and no one knew what to do.
How slow they came, their horses at a mere trot. Their white flags with red crosses waving in the wind. Everyone crowded before them. One officer dragged forward your father, the Governor, and forced him to kneel.
You stood nearby, your mother hugging her arms around you, to shield you, protect you. You could hear the faint, worried murmurs of the crowd all about you. Wondering what would happen. You heard the king of England was making a conquest of France, but how distant it all seemed until he was here.
You looked up at the king in front and center on his white horse. You had never looked at a king before.
You could not deny he was a handsome man. Young, but not boyish. Virile. He was tall and lean, with auburn-blonde curls and a short, cropped beard. High cheekbones. The most piercing blue eyes you have ever seen. And bedecked in his armor, one would think him a knight from a story. Except for the crown.
“Do you understand what happens when an army goes through and sacks a city, governor? What will happen if you do not let us through?” He asked.
There was silence from your father.
The king then spoke, his voice rising.
“Houses will be destroyed, lives will be taken. We will pull your old men by their beards. Your daughters will shriek when they are handed to soldiers. Hungry for their viriginities. Your infants we will set on spikes as their mothers scream. That is what will happen.”
You heard sounds of worry and shock from the crowd. Mothers looked down at their children.
The king looked over. He noticed you. You felt your eyes on him. Growing warm in your face, you lowered your eyes in timidness. Not daring to glare at a king.
It felt like one was at the edge of a cliff and dreading the gust of wind that would fall. One word from the king would release chaos and horrors of all unspeakable kinds. Upon your family. And you.
“But…all this we will avoid, on two conditions…” the king announced. His voice softened.
“Two?” asked your father.
“One, that you let us pass….” began the king.
“And the second?” asked your father.
The king’s eyes fell on you again.
“Who is this woman?” he asked.
“My daughter.”
The king paused a moment before he spoke.
“You offer your daughter to me for the night.”
You felt your heart race. Your stomach began churning. Already, you were trembling all over your limbs. No, you thought, no, no, no, no…
Your mother pulled you in tighter.
“She will not be yours!” she blurted.
The king silenced her with a look.
“You will let us pass. And your daughter will be in my bed. Or I will set my soldiers upon the town,” repeated the king.
But…what choice did you have? If you refused, if your father refused…then how many more women would be raped? How many lives lost or ruined?
“My…my daughter’s honor…” muttered your father, still on his knees.
“Will be compensated, with a wealthy dowry,” assured the king. He nodded at one officer beside him, who pulled out a bag of coins.
“She is not a whore! My daughter is worth more than any of your gold can buy!” your father spat back.
Pulling out of your mother's arms, heart racing, you stepped forward. You walked over and kneeled next to your father.
“Mon pere…let it happen,” you whispered.
Father looked at you, his jaw dropped.
“Tell the king you accept,” you assured him. “I will go to him. It’s only one night, and it will be over. I’ll have a dowry worth more than the one saved up for me. Afterwards, I can marry whoever I want.”
Father turned his head back to the king. He then spoke.
“Your soldiers may pass. And you may have her.”
A deep exhale went throughout the crowd. Your mother put her hands over her mouth, tears in her eyes. Soon enough, Henry took the reins of the horse. He looked over to the man on the horse next to him. An older man with long, grey hair.
“Tonight, we stay here as guests. Grant them mercy,” he ordered.
The older man nodded. He then turned, and word trickled down to the soldiers.
A path was formed among the crowd as the people stepped away, and the king and his horse and army rode through it.
Two hours later, the older man approached you at the door in your home.
“My lady, the king has summoned you,” he announced.
Your mother got out a handkerchief and began to weep. Your father hung his head down in shame. You then walked outside and followed the gentleman through your city of Harlefleur.
You knew already where you were going. Your father may have been the governor, but the Dumont’s were the wealthiest family in town. Their mansion in the center was the largest. So it was there that the king stayed. And it was there that the older man, who was the lord of Exeter, escorted you.
The lord of Exeter walked you through the front door. He guided you upstairs, past the servants of the house. He then led you to one separate room. It had a fireplace and a cream four-poster bed. Inside was a large tub and female servants with cloths and soap.
“The king ordered you to bathe.”
“I’m not dirty,” you said. You were still a lady who took care to always appear proper, especially in front of men. And in front of kings.
“Still, you must be clean before the presence of his majesty,” the lord of Exeter declared. He then closed the door.
They set you in the tub, already full of water. Making sure not to make your hair too wet, they scrubbed all over your body until you were truly clean. You then got out and dried with a towel.
One of the servants, an older woman with wrinkles and grey hair, brought forward a golden dress.
“The king said he would like you to wear this,” she announced.
The maids helped you step into the dress and secured it in the back. They gave you a jeweled belt. They then took care of your hair as you would have liked it. At least you had a little say in these matters.
It was a dress even more beautiful than the ones you owned. It had long sleeves and a small train. The jeweled belt flattered your figure. There was an ample cut square collar that flattered the top of your chest. You were then given a jeweled headdress placed on top of your head.
How did they get this? Was it stolen? From a common woman attacked by a soldier? No, for these were not the clothes of a common woman. From the lady of the house? You didn’t know.
There was a knock on the door. The older woman opened it and revealed the Lord of Exeter.
“Now…it is time,” he announced.
You followed him out, holding up your skirt so you wouldn’t trip. Heads of servants turned towards you, eyes curious. He then led you to a large door. He knocked on it.
“You may enter,” came the king’s voice.
He pushed open the door, and you stepped inside.
Inside, it was lit with candles. There was a table with chairs. Chests here and there. And a great, large bed in the center of it, with thick red blankets and feather pillows. A crackling fireplace. There, dressed in red leathers and his crown in front of the fire, was his majesty the king of England. He was leaning against the railing, but straightened himself once he saw you.
You dipped into the lowest curtsy you could.
“Thank you. You may now leave us, uncle,” said the king.
The lord of Exeter closed the door behind him. Your heart picked up again. You stood still and folded your hands.
“Do you speak English?” he asked.
“Like my mother tongue, your grace,” you answered.
The king walked forward. You kept your eyes down as he circled you. He then stopped in front of you. Hands gesturing forward to the table.
“Here, sit.”
You walked over and sat down. The table was bare except for a bottle of wine and two goblets.
“Would you like some wine?” asked the king.
You did not answer, eyeing the bottle with nervousness.
“Rest assured, there is nothing in it. Only wine,” replied the king.
“Yes, of course.”
He poured out some in a goblet and handed it to you. Inside it was a deep, dark red. It looked almost black. The taste was dry and bitter, but it was strong.
“What is your name?” he asked.
You gave it to him.
He poured his own cup and took a deep drink. He then set it down. You could feel something in his eyes. There was a stillness. As if he was doing everything in his power not to reach out and grab you at once. No, he was showing restraint.
“Do you like the wine?” he asked.
“Yes. It is good, my lord.”
“Would you like any food?”
“No, no thank you, my lord.”
You took another drink, deepening it. If the wine affected you, this would be more pleasant. You could drink your way through this. The king leaned forward, his hands together. He looked all over you.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, my lord,” you replied.
“It pleases me when you say that. You may keep calling me ‘my lord.’ And your majesty.”
“Of course, my lord.”
You took another sip of wine. You were already getting to the end of your drink. You felt your body warmed by the fireplace. Outside, one could hear an owl.
“Why did you make this request, my lord?” you asked.
He was still. Then he spoke in a soft voice.
“My lady, because I want you beyond what words can describe.”
He then stood up and walked to you. He held out a hand, and you accepted it. He led you to stand up. His hands traced over your sides, then up to your face. He even tipped your chin up with his hand.
“Look at me,” he said.
You obeyed.
“Promise me one thing?” he asked.
You looked up at him.
“Never stop looking at me.”
He then leaned forward and kissed you. It was…warm, his lips were soft. Already, you could feel yourself melting in, giving away. It was a sweet kiss, far sweeter than anything you expected would happen tonight.
His hands wandered to your back, supporting you as he gave you another kiss. He leaned down further. His hands clutched onto you.
You let go, already trying to catch your breath. His hands went to the top of your head and took off your headdress. He then went to your belt and undid it as it fell to the floor. His hands then went to the back of your dress, and began to undo it.
You let him. Something in you was growing.
Soon enough, the dress fell to the ground before you. You wore only a shift. Your own breathing was deep. You looked right at him. He took his hands and went to the sleeves on your shoulders of your shift. It was already loose with an open collar.
He then pulled it down by the sleeves.
Soon it fell, revealing your breasts, then the rest of your body as it fell in a circle around your feet.
He looked down at you. His hands grazing your breasts.
“Beautiful,” was all he said.
He took you in his arms and picked you up. You wondered how strong he was; it was as if you were nothing but air. He carried you over to the bed and laid you down.
He took off his own doublet and the shirt beneath it, revealing his chest. You wondered at his muscles. He then removed his codpiece. You could see he was already hard. You wondered how hard he had been the entire time. He took off his boots in a hurry. You leaned forward to have a look. He then removed his pants. Already, his large manhood was reaching high, leaking precum.
He joined you on the bed and hovered over you. You could feel his cock graze your stomach. Hearts racing, you saw him reach his hand and use it to part your legs.
He tested you. He plunged a finger inside your core. Already, you could feel yourself getting wet at his touch. You moaned at it, feeling him inside, digging around.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked.
You gave him your answer. And he nodded.
He prepared you, his finger spreading you open, and then found a spot and teased it. It swirled around you, making space. You then felt him add another finger.
“My…my lord…”
“Spread your legs wider, your king commands it,” he breathed.
You obeyed, going as wide as you could. He set himself between them. He then pulled himself forward, his face meeting your own. His cock at your entrance.
He then thrust forward.
You let out a small sound. He was quite large; there was a pinprick of pain. He pulled out, and then he entered again. And again. He then began a rhythm.
“Oh…oh God…” you moaned out.
He then took your legs and hooked them so they were around his waist. He was breathing in deep. He plunged, this time further.
“Oh!” you cried out.
“Sweet lady-yes- dear, sweet lady,” he panted out between thrusts. “Yes-yes-keep-don’t be quiet. Don’t be timid-oh-just-just keep telling me- let them know, let them all know how the king pleasures you.”
He dove in again, letting out a grunt. A sound you never knew you could make flew out of you. His hand then dove into you. It found your bud and began to strum you as he continued to thrust in and out.
“Does-does your king give you pleasure?” he grunted.
“Yes-yes, my lord!” you began to cry out.
It began to speed up. Something in you was spinning, spinning up. Your voice was starting to rise; you were gripping the bedsheets.
He then paused, and he pulled out of you. Before you could ask any questions, he had you flipped onto your stomach.
“Hold onto the bed,” he demanded.
You grabbed the headboard. Gripping it tight. Knowing exactly what was going to happen.
He then took you again from this different angle, and you felt him behind you.
“Oh, oh god, my lord!” you cried out. The pain mixed with pleasure from his position. He himself let out another cry.
He increased the pace. Pounding into you with a fury. Breasts bouncing, your own cries and moans grew louder and louder. But the pleasure was immense. The filthiness of this act, of him being behind you- it rose something in you that you couldn’t name. You only held tighter onto the headboard as he started to pound into you.
“Oh god- oh god! My-my lord!”
“Call-call me Henry!” he then demanded.
“Oh-yes, yes, my lord! Yes, Henry!”
“Yes-yes-use-use my name- keep saying it!”
His hands reached between your legs and fiddled with your bud again. Going at a more furious pace, the bed shaking. His own grunts and moans increasing. But so did the strength of his strokes on your bud. That, mixed with this position, gave you that spinning feeling again. That rising sensation.
“I-I am too-hold on-yes, yes, like that-make me have you, come now, your-your king commands you-”
Soon enough, it broke on you. You felt suspended in bliss, in pure, pure pleasure. With a final cry, he came too, and you felt his hot seed spurt inside you. Both of you lay there, panting. Your hold onto the headboard slipped, and you fell into the bed.
He pulled out of you and then grabbed your waist. He pulled you down to lie beside him, still panting hard. You placed a hand on his pectorals. The sudden warmth seeping through you. Here he was, holding you. He held you tight to him; you could hear his heartbeat and smell the woods on him.
“I’m going to talk to your father. I’ll keep you as a concubine. You won’t leave my side,” he said as he caught his breath.
Chapter Summary: Tyler tries to get his head straight after things with Wednesday took an unexpected turn. More revelations await them as they explore a new dynamic and put Wednesday’s plan for the truth into action.
Content Warnings: I'd give this one 🌶️ for spiciness. BUT please note the update to the tags for specifics.
The latest Chapter of Embrace Fond Woe is out! Sorry for the wait. This is another beastly 13k-ish chapter. And it was a bitch to write if I'm honest! Lots of dialogue in this one and I did my best not to make it too tedious.
Time to start moving the plot along and unveiling a few surprises!
Ambiguous GIF Tease! Embrace Fond Woe Chapter 10: I Know What You Did Last Summer
Once again, it’s all gotten a bit out of hand. It’s another long one, folks. It’s almost ready for general consumption (I'm aiming for Wednesday 11th) but until then, I thought I’d offer an apéritif to help build anticipation... Theories welcome 😉
