#the essex serpent fic

[smolvenger]

The Boat in the Water: A Beauty and the Beast Story Part Five (Loki x Stella Ransome, An MCU and The Essex Serpent Crossover multipart)

Fic Summary: in a nutshell, Beauty and the Beast with Stella Ransome from The Essex Serpent as the Beauty/Belle and Loki Laufeyson as the Beast. Having lost her health and her husband's fidelity and love, Stella has nothing more to lose than her life. Then...she is swept away to another realm, to an enchanted castle. A castle whose master is a god...a god with a striking resemblance to her husband.

Chapter Summary: Stella steps in to save her husband as she and Loki make amends.

One// Two//Three//Four//Five//Six

Word Count: 6K (have a drink on standby)

Chapter Warnings: Violence, sickness, blood, injury- fluff and angst. I portray the affair between Will and Cora in The Essex Serpent in a negative light and Stella exploring her negative feelings about being cheated on. If you take issue with that, then there are LOTS of fics out there for you, this isn't one of them. Stella is attracted to Loki and develops feelings internally for him while still married, but you know our girl Stella would never act on them- so kind of emotional cheating, I guess? Please let me know if I missed one, I am not a professional author and I am not making a cent off of this, but I take full accountability for anything that isn't tagged and how I portray dark subject matter.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @anukulee @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @jijilaufeyson @steasstuff

Stella let out a horrified scream as the dagger pierced into her husband’s flesh. 

Will had backed away, trying to escape. But he was too late. In that split second, the dagger landed onto the lower half of his stomach. The Aesir crowd gasped. Many were frozen in terrified, numb passivity. 

She began to bolt forward, picking up her skirts that swished with her so her feet could easily race across the floor. She heard Loki’s threat and heard the smirk in his voice.

“She’s your wife. And I’m about to make her your widow,” said Loki.

Loki conjured a second dagger. Will staggered, a hand over his bleeding stomach. The first dagger still inside. He fell backward and tried to move away with his legs pushing against the floor. Loki only easily caught up to him in two slow, graceful steps,like a cat toying with an injured mouse. And he was going to savor this moment and devour every morsel of it.

Loki raised his arm to commit a final blow.

Stella ran forward and placed both her hands on the god’s arm.

“Loki! Stop! I command you- stop this instant!” she demanded. Not begged- demanded. 

When the god turned, he saw a fire in her eyes. His dark eyebrows shot up seeing her. Something in him paled and his lips turned thin. Stella held her glare.

“Do. Not. kill him.” she commanded.

 The dagger vanished into the air. 

She ran over to Will, who stopped to look at her in awe. As if she was something far more divine than of flesh and blood. 

She got down and held his hand. She then looked at the gawking crowd.

“Someone fetch him a healer! Get them! Now! Hurry- he’s a mortal!” she insisted.

A few guests hurried and found a room. Two men lifted Will’s arms onto their shoulders as they dragged him there. One used some of his napkins as a bandage for the blood. A small party was going to leave to fetch the healers on their fastest horses.

He was laid on the bed, the dagger remaining inside. But yet, even with that, Stella stayed beside amidst the flurry of people. Will reached out a hand and touched her face and she held it.

“Stella is that…”

She nodded. Tears in her eyes despite the smile on her face.

“Yes, it’s me…” she assured me.

The Vicar smiled, despite the wince of pain.

“You look so well…and you..you were dancing…you didn’t have any strength to dance the last time I looked at you…”

“They helped me here…and they’re going to help you…” she promised him. 

Loki was watching them. Pouting from a distance. He swallowed back the urge to gag at the picture. He had to turn around so he could not look at them. He knew it would make him do something else.

Perhaps he should be the one stabbed instead. Perhaps he should have been the one to be bleeding so Stella would warp her soft arms around him and speak soft, sweet words to him.

But no, instead he was the one who brought about her pain. And he could only force his eyes away.

Stella hated him. Loki felt that in his soul.

The healers arrived with the party on horses not long after. With their bags and magic, they crowded into the room. Though they were all women. They were delighted to heal Will. To help such a handsome man with muscled arms and hair on his chest. Stella saw a few greedy smiles on the younger ones as they lifted up his shirt to look at the wound. Not that she could privately blame them. She could only anxiously watch in the corner.

They caught the blood and were working on spells to repatch the area he was hit in. The ball was only half-heartedly continuing outside. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Stella found Loki pacing about. His face was severe. Until he looked out at a door where the party was continuing. Guests were chatting and even dancing without a worry in the world. He leaned against the wall with one arm to watch them but with crossed eyebrows and a stubborn frown.

Stella approached him quietly, her eyes angry. She knew how to mother naughty children when they did something they should not have. She had that gleam in her eyes before a scolding that is universal to any mother.

“Loki, you did something horrible,” she began sternly.

The god turned to look at her. But his face had the same sour expression.

“You’re right. I stabbed him in the wrong place. I should have aimed for his cock, it would’ve save us all the trouble,” he replied.

He looked back at the party.

Stella took in a breath to slow her heart, to cool the heat building up in her face. Using Christian virtues of forgiving one’s enemy would not work with a Norse god, she figured. There was no use debating if Will was good or bad, no use debating what he did. They already had this conversation before. Things would only become worse between them than they were. 

There was the shameful twinge of herself that felt like he was right yet…it shouldn’t have happened like this…how could she speak to him?

She crossed her arms and looked at him. With another slow inhale, she figured out how.

“Go inside, help the healers, and use your magic to make him stable, please, Loki,” she requested.

He turned around and squinted at her as if she spoke a foreign language.

“I beg your pardon? Why? He deserves it. For the pain he inflicted. For the pain he inflicted on you, might I add. He can bleed his way to this ‘heaven’ plade for all I care,” he argued.

She met his eyes resolutely. 

“Loki…if not for his sake, then think of this…”

Touching his arm with a strong grasp, Stella’s eyes never lowered from his.

“ There are three children who need their father alive. They are staying with a couple who use Will’s tithes to take care of them. If he is gone, those children have nothing to support them. They will all be declared orphans and never see their father again, and I could lose them if another claims them. You must heal him. For James’s sake. For Jo’s sake. For Johns…and mine…” she added.

Loki got up from the wall. He looked at her- strong, angry, and as beautiful as ever. Inches close to her face, his voice quiet.

“For your sake. And the children’s sake. Not his,” he replied.

The god turned inside. He magicked away the bucket that had a cloth full of blood and conjured new bandages. He made sure the healers had whatever they needed. Medicinal magic was not his realm of expertise, but it was what he could do. That and back away and lean against the wall to take in the healing of this infamous man.

A healer walked into the hallway with Stella.

“He is stable. There shall be a scar, but there isn’t any bleeding. He will have some pain, but he will live,” she reported.

“Oh, thank you!” Stella replied.

She scurried in and saw the women checking in on Will. His middle was bandaged and clean. The dagger removed with magic. He was drinking a potion that was going to patch up his innards in a golden cup. He was frustratingly handsome as ever with his curls draped against the pillow. He looked up at the room, his face to the side to show his profile.

But her head turned…Loki was speaking to a few healers. Conversing with them. He had done what she asked.

She approached him slowly and smiled.

“Thank you, Loki,” she replied.

She then went over to Will. He handed his cup to the healer beside him. She gave Stella a silent, jealous glare.

“Stella…Stella, dear…” he rasped, his arms open.

 She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him. He embraced her back, feeling the rich material of her gown. 

The healers trickled out with satisfied smiles painted on their faces. Loki turned and gazed on the wife and husband. 

He hesitated, and then he left the room.

He knew he should not overhear the private conversations of a couple, one who had been married for over a decade. Considering Jo’s age, if the girl was conceived on the wedding night, then it meant they were married at least for fourteen years. Fourteen years to know a person, be tied to them, have them at the hip, always with you, around you, called on when needed…what was that like? 

Despite himself, he heard bits of their conversation. His adoptive parents were together for centuries. Yet the murmurs that trickled out between the mortals in that room didn’t seem too entirely different. 

But if Stella was his…fourteen years did not feel like enough to have her with him.

There were a few words he did pick up on.

“How long until you are better?” asked the husband.

“Only a week or two, they say. There are some symptoms but…I’m not dying. It feels so odd, but…I’m not dying. I’m going to be normal in a fortnight,” Stella answered.

“Normal in a fortnight…why, what does one even say at this!”

“Only that this is a very good place that helps so many people…” she replied. “Wait, Will, wait here…”

Her footsteps, light as dancers, pattered out the door. Loki jumped and turned back to his spot in the hallway. He saw her approach him.

“Could you send him home, please?” she asked.

He complied. After a few happy tears and hugs and promises to write, Will was transported with Loki’s magic from the guest bedroom to his own. 

‘Leave it to him to try and explain to his malicious misteress in the seven hels happened to him last night. And good luck making anyone believe him,’ Loki thought.

The party was already coming to a close. An entire one was thrown, yet the hosts were gone and now guests were getting tired and leaving. Even the music was softer, slower.

One by one, they left. Leaving Stella and Loki alone in the ballroom which was littered with flower petals and crumbs of food on the floor. The night was dark and starry. The crackling torches on the wall were dim.

Loki lumbered over and sat on some stone steps on the floor. It would lead out to the circle where musicians would play. But now there was no music, only the guilt burning inside him.

“Thank you, again, for healing him, and taking him home” Stella said.

The god was stiff. His face pale and he held his hands as he surveyed everything, but avoided looking at her.

“Loki, what is it?” she asked.

He looked about the remains of the party. The magic had yet to clean it up, but he still wanted to look.

“I ruined it. I ruined your party. Your party. I...I…I hurt him…that is what I do…I ruin things…no wonder I was left behind as a child. I ruin everything by touching it..” he mourned.

Stella walked forward.

“Don’t say that about yourself. It is not your fault what your parents did.”

She leaned down and touched his arm. He relaxed as her fingers brushed his fine leathers. He then looked at her.

“Loki…everyone does something they regret when their emotions get the better of them But you listened to me. You stopped it. And you took action to fix it…Loki…I forgive you.”

He looked down again at the ground.

“Is this what I always do? Do nice things and then ruin them? Give you even more things you must forgive me for?”

“You’re a god. Not an angel.” she reminded him.

She sat down next to him.

“Let me tell you something. I once became so frustrated at John when he was little. I was so tired- James was just born and he was crying all night and I barely slept a wink for months. John ran in getting mud everywhere one day. It bothered me so that I raised my voice and scolded him for getting mud in the house. He burst into tears and wouldn’t speak to me all night. He wanted to go hide in wardrobes... I never felt such shame. I found myself crying because I was a bad mother…but I told him I was sorry. And he forgave me. Now he always keeps track of his shoes and helps me clean them.”

She reached over and touched his chin so that he turned to her. There was a gentle smile on her face and part of Loki melted on the inside.

“We will always fail. All of our lives. But we learn from them…and try and do better…that is only the way the world works. In Midgard. Or in Asgard.” she replied. 

Part of her shivered when she thought of the fact that her husband almost died- and that if she didn’t act, he would have.

 “Loki, Promise me you won’t try to end his life, please?” she asked.

He reached his hand up and touched hers. She felt something in her body tighten as he did. He then placed a second large, gentle hand over hers. Pale and smooth compared to the rough, hairy hands of her husband.

“I promise, I won’t try to end his life, Stella…”

“I know why you did it. You were thinking of…of him and Cora, didn’t you?” 

“Yes, I was…”

She paused and lowered her head. Her eyes went down to a discarded flower that fell from the wall and lay trampled.

“I must be honest…”

Something about the long night, her tiredness from the events, was bringing about a candor in her. But she could trust Loki. She could tell him anything.

“Sometimes I think…There are times I think of that dance. They were centimeters away from kissing. I should feel happy. I tell myself I brought this to them. To myself. I should feel happy. I know I should…but I don’t feel happy. I feel so…so sad, so angry. I tell everyone all the time I am happy. But I couldn’t be less happy than those days... Loki…I feel as if  could have flown into a rage and taken that knife and stabbed him myself-”

She covered her mouth, shocked at the words that came out of her. Loki looked at her, her figure hunching more.

“It’s horrid! So, horrid! I…I felt so bad about such thoughts I…I made myself push them away. Keep them in a box. I never…never told anyone…”

Loki shifted closer to her. Her shoulders tightened. Her blue skirt like a collapsed tent around her as it seemed to deflate around her legs.

“Him and Cora I…I find, when I’m alone, when it’s only my mind- I bewail it, and I blame myself, I blame him and yet…I keep it away, I tell myself it’s for the best. He loves her. And she him. My family won’t be  alone, I tell myself I don’t feel bad yet I…I’m gonig to be healed…and this means, this was for nothing. I’m going to have my health. I’m going to live but…he’s still…”

Her breathing was fast.

“He write to her. Every night. I would crawl up, before I was sick, and see his office. The light was still on. His sleeves were still up like it was some great labor. And he would be writing furiously, focused by his lamp. He would barely glance at me behind him. So I would turn and leave…but I was well…even when I was well, I knew he was writing to her…And he would lay awake at night. Reading his Bible…not because he was dealing with God. He was…was thinking of her…all that time, all he could think about was her, and not me anymore-and I wasn’t sick then!”

Tears welled up, her face red and getting scrunched and hot. Finally, the water broke and she began to cry. 

She went up to Loki and clutched him.

“No one is here but me…you can cry as much as you want…” he assured her.

She wrang out the tears. Her shame, Her guilt. Her secrets. Her pain. Let it ebb and flow. For once, unhappiness did not disturb Stella. It did not feel like she was going to ruin something or hurt someone. The grief itching in the back of her brain could be scratched.

Her crying paused. After that, beneath the tears that streamed down her cheeks. Even as she was broken, melting down into a blank slate of herself. 

She cried. Cried in front of someone. And she ruined nothing and hurt no one. No one thought her a weak, foolish person. Loki would never think that about her. But an invisible weight had drifted off her shoulders. She felt…at peace.

Loki put a hand on her face, his long thumb wiping away one of the tear stains. She felt her heart suddenly race against her chest.

“You have done nothing to be ashamed of…you have thought such things yet never acted on them…you’re stronger than I could ever dream. You’ve had such fury, such grief….and you hurt no one…”

He froze for only a moment and then continued.

“You have so much love, so much compassion Stella…but one day you will realize not everyone deserves it…or you…”

She blinked.

“How…how can I…even do that?” she asked.

“Well, I for one, advise on preferably not stabbing someone in the middle of a party in front of his wife.” Loki quipped.

She grinned, a weak laugh escaping her thick, pretty lips. 

He escorted her through the hallways and up the stairs to her room. She paused.

“Loki I…please I…” she muttered. 

She was blushing, as she held out a hand for him.

“What is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her hands went to her sides, bunching up into fists.

“Loki, I am a decent woman. And I want to be a decent woman but…tonight could you-could you-”

The god felt every sense in him strike alight, he tensed, not believing this was happening.

Stella wrung her hands on her side, her eyes lowering and darting about.

“You just…you resemble him, in face and form and…I don’t…I don’t want to feel like I go to bed alone for once. I’ve slept beside someone for years and to feel your bed empty for the first time. I…I…could you just…just hold me as a I go to sleep?”

Loki found he was blinking. His chest seemed still and then rose and fall with breaths he needed to be slow.

“You want me…to hold you…as you sleep?”

“You don’t know what it’s like…to sleep in the arms and next to someone you adore. Feel their warmth and touch and then it..it vanishes…I feel…oh, heavens, I feel like some child needing her doll at night. I just- I haven’t been held when I slept for months, but Loki…I don’t want you to…to…”

She turned red as her eyes went up to his, the confession bursting from her.

“Do anything less than gentlemanly, but I just want to be held. Please!”

Loki stepped forward.

“Yes. I’ll stay here, and hold you as you go to sleep.

She went behind a screen. Loki tried not to let blood rush to his system, his body, knowing she was bare just behind that one layer. But he knew to control himself.

Out Stella emerged. Her soft, silk, white nightgown. Her hair in her favorite braid that draped down her side. 

He tilted his head, and his magic turned his clothes from leather to the plain white shirt and soft brown pants.

“Is this how the men of Asgard sleep?”she asks.

“We prefer the…natural form, if you say,” Loki replied with a wink.

“Oh…” Stella replied demurely.

“But I won’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s only…he…it’s almost funny, your sleep shirts almost look like his.”

She sat on the bed.

“Would you like me to change to his form?” Loki asked.

Stella shook her head.

“No…just your own, please,” she replied.

Always with manners. It was as if she grew up in a palace like him. He couldn’t help but like her.

They laid down on the bed next to each other. She turned to one side and he wrapped his arms around her from behind. A hug. A reminder that she was cared for, touched. Warm beneath blankets, she fell asleep. Loki drifted off not long after.

When morning arrived, she awoke first. She could feel his arms, but settled into him. Listening to his soft breathing.

When she turned into him, he insintincively held her close.

When he woke up, he was slow in his greetings. And then making sure she was alright, he left the room to give her privacy to dress for the day. His curls were tussled and his cheeks had a slight pinkness to them. He seemed so real, so unfiltered…so human.

“I’ll…I’ll…I’ll see you at dinner, Little Star,” he said.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The healer in the back room of the cottage had Stella sit up. She was a pretty young woman with dark brown hair and soft brown eyes who held a white bowl in front of Stella's mouth.

“Now, spit,” she instructed.

There was one thing Stella was always advised to do. Every single doctor’s visit, be mortal or Aesir-Spit, Mrs, Ransome, please. Spit. Spit to study the contents. It was unladylike. It was crude. It was something she saw every one of her children do since they were babies. Spittle gurgling down each little chin in a soft bundle. 

She was realms away and yet it felt like nothing changed.

She obeyed and spat into the dish. The pretty healer smiled at her and then went to meet her superiors.

Three more women in their long, white dresses came over to examine her. They listened to her lungs. Waved their hands to have magic images float in the sky- and somehow they were able to read what was happening in her body. But there were more smiles this time, a flitter of excitement in the air.

“Have you felt tired?” asked one.

“No…come to think of it, I’ve not felt tired in the day at all.” Stella answered.

“Do you have any pains in your chest lately?” she asked next.

“I…I think it’s been last week since my chest had any pain…” Stella replied.

“Any blood coughed out?” 

“I haven’t been coughing and there was no blood.”

The younger one who took the spit returned. She whispered something into the ear of the others. They all turned and smiled kindly at her.

“Lady Stella, we have good news. It seems everything in you shows that between the medicine doses, the rest, and the air here…you have no symptoms of the illness and it is not anywhere in your lungs.” one announced.

The world almost fell out. A sound came out of Stella like a gasp, and she covered her mouth. Hardly believing the words, although the feeling in her body told her otherwise. She had been feeling strong. She wasn’t sweating at night. She had her appetite. She was…normal. Normal and healthy.

“We studied everything, and there is only just a little bit of hte disease. Do not fear, for it will inoculate it. Your body shall likely not catch it again…” continued the healer, the leader of the group.

“I…I…I’m healed?” asked Stella, her hands shaking.

“Yes, you’re healed.”

She smiled wide, tears in her eyes, and hugged them. Thanking all of them.

As she got into the carriage, she was beaming. She couldn’t wait to go home and…

Oh, home. The home wasn’t the white house on the marsh. Home was the enchanted palace. The place of refuge…

Stella walked through the entrance to see if there was a nice spot to have some tea and a sandwich. She was feeling peckish.

But as she walked down, she did not expect Loki there, strolling up with a spring in his step. Handsome and winning as a fairy story.

“Ah, I wanted to find you,” he announced.

“Why, what is this?” she asked.

“We aren’t just going to eat dinner today,” he announced. He stopped before her, a proud grin on his face. “We’re doing what you mortals call luncheon- it’s quite a charming little idea. I found a spot in Asgard. And I want to take you there…I think you’d like it..”

He held his hand opened to her, bowing gallantly.

“Would you accept, my dear lady?” he asked.

Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, Stella accepted and took his hand.

In a flash of light, they were under the sun. Not a harsh sun, but a gentle one. And there was a cool breeze. The birds singing weren’t distant, but could be heard nearby.

Stella gasped in delight.

She was in a whole field full of blue flowers. Roaming over the long grass. They decked throughout and bent with the wind. She could see where the ground sloped down a hill and made a new one- decorated with the flowers. There was the odd tree, but it seemed it went on for miles. 

“Why, this…this place…I…” Stella gasped. The color of peace, of heaven, of beauty all around her.

“The whole place just screams you.” Loki quipped. When she looked at him, his smile had softened.

“I’ve never seen a field full of flowers, much less blue ones! Thank you!” she cried.

“Here…let me show you more of it,” he offered.

He took her hand and led her through. They walked as eagerly and excited and free as children. Loki led her one place and pointed eagerly. She saw a lake and high mountains topped with snow. So high, the clouds above kissed them. How tiny she felt compared to it from a distance. As she breathed in deep to take it all in, her lungs strong again, she could tell the air was cooler, crisper.

“I…I’ve never seen a mountain before!” she exclaimed.

“And now you have, my dear! I accept glasses of wine and time with you and not with my brother as a thank you,” he replied.

She only made a light laugh. Loki had his magic  conjure a picnic blanket and a basket. But Stella was too eagerly picking flowers to eat yet. She bent their green stems to form a necklace and wore it over her.

“Hmm, why do you wear those little beads?” Loki asked as he got out plates and steaming bowls of food.

“Oh, out of habit. For protection!” she answered. 

She took it off hers and leaned to Loki. Though he flinched , he let her put the necklace over his head.

“Here, so you can have protection too.” she offered.

Loki let out a sigh, but relaxed, letting himself wear the flowers. It wasn’t befitting and could seem silly for a god and prince to have them, but Stella’s smile when she saw him wearing them was….well, exquisite. Her small giggles at them stirred something inside him.

And they did smell nice, he silently admitted.

They enjoyed their picnic, which consisted of sandwiches with salted meat, soft fruit in delicate little bowls. There was even a small almond cake offered inside which Loki found himself struggling not to shove entirely in his mouth.

Stella eagerly picked up a few flowers and held it up to him.

“I…I think it’s like your Frost Giant skin- could we check?” she asked.

Loki turned his hand blue and his eyebrows shot up in astonishment as he compared.

“It…it is..” he confirmed.

‘Now help me pick which ones to press!” she offered.

They looked around, gathering some in their arms. All full of bouquets of the blue flowers. Stella was planning to put them in vases around the castle to add a bit of her touch to them. But Stella brought out just a few from one bunch.

“Here, have these,” she offered.

Loki tilted his head at them.

“Little star, it’s usually the gentleman who gives the lady flowers,” he commented.

“No- keep them! I want you to press them into a book or anything you wish. So you remember, so you reflect on how beautiful they are, and how beautiful your true form is!” she replied.

Loki accepted the flowers. Looking into her eyes and smiling. He made them float in the air where they drifted into the baskets.

Loki began twitching his hands. Here it was- his chance. Now or never. He was going to say the reason he brought her here, to this field.

“Well…” he began. He wasn’t good at saying it. But hhe wanted to say it. He needed to say it and yet the words couldn’t come up to him. He knew it was futile, but he had to say it, he had to say-

“Loki, I have good news: I’m healed now…” she announced.

He froze. It was a clear, sunny day but it seemed as if a bit of his brother’s thunder had rumbled through and brought lightning down onto him.

“You’re healed?” he asked.

“I am recovered. I am not weak, I cough no blood…”

Loki looked on the ground for a few seconds, then back up. He took both of her hands and placed them in his. 

“There’s something you’re thinking of, isn’t there?” he asked.

“It’s only…I miss…I miss my family, my children…if only…I could tell them, see them again, let them know I am better…” she confessed.

A second passed between them. A deep breath came through Loki

“Stella, you should go,” he said.

She blinked.

“You will…let me go, just like that?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Yes…you are the mistress of the palace, not its prisoner. And your children need you- and you are healed. You can go. I will do everything to make sure you are safely returned.”

A smile broke wider on Stella’s face, even a few happy tears. She eagerly embraced Loki and he embraced back. He held her, taking her in, burying himself in her. Trying to memorize how she felt to his touch. Trying to remember her embrace, the feel of her pulse, her scent, the brush of her yellow hair against his skin. 

It was going to be one of their last for a long time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hurrying to the library, Stella got out paper and pen and scribbled down the letters in excitement. The first to the Ambroses and to Will, to share the good news. To share in her joy, her miracle. She asked that the Ambroses have the children return home at their earliest convenience to be reunited with them.

That made her tear up. Her three little dears, getting about in London in the big city. When they were taken away for fear of their catching it, she sobbed. It was going to be the last time she ever saw her darlings…and she was going to live. She was going to see them again. She was going to see Will again. And the dog, and the church, and the sea, and everyone in that town. The Bates, Martha, Cora, even that old curmudgeon Cracknell still made her laugh in her memories and there was going to be more of him to make her laugh. And that was to name a mere few of the people there!

 She was going to have her health back, her family back, her life back…

The pen stopped. She looked over the two letters, the handwriting scribbing from her fast writing in her urgent joy. There was a window that looked about the gardens where the birds sang, flowers bloomed, and now and again, little creatures walked about without fear.

And Loki…Loki who danced with her, spoke with her, looked at her- no, not only looked, who saw her, understood her, listened to her. Loki, Loki, Loki who made her feel…feel…

She was going to miss it…and she was going to miss him if she had to be honest with herself…but…she was here to be healed. And it had happened. Her task was done. 

She went over to her room with the chest.

“Send this first one to the Ambroses’ in London, and send this one on the right to my house in Aldwinter.” she requested.

The letters vanished.

In the meantime of the children’s travel, Stella was busy as a bee. She kitted little blue dishcloths from the parlor. She gave one to each healer and to the friends she made in Asgard. She wished she could have seen Thor once again, but there was no time now. And the palace would not let her in as a mortal and a peasant. But she did leave him a note should he come back.

In just a few days, she received word that the children had arrived. And she could return.

Stella was given the dresses and trinkets she wanted to keep. Another brown box with the pebbles and flowers she found would be there. She was allowed to use the chests to write to her Asgardian friends. 

The carriage was going to take her back. This time, Loki’s horses would carry it. She stepped out as the god helped her get her new belongings packed safely.  She was bedecked in a traveling gown of a blue jacket and skirt. She was given a small purse and a smart hat with a tiny veil to complete the outfit.

Loki held out his hand, studying the difference in size, her warmth, and her bare skin on his bare skin. But the door was left open. 

“Loki…I want to speak to you, please. You have shown me so much. You made me better in every way.  My body…and my spirit. I don’t feel as if I am the same since I met yout…thank you.”

He smiled at her. Though he was a little sad. His hands then conjured something in the air.

From his pocket, he got out a dagger in a small sheath. Stella foudn her eyes got big. He pulled it out to show it had a blue hilt and ancient norse on the blade.

“I would be surprised if you had any practical use for it…but I wanted you to have this gift. So you could use it to remember me.” he offered.

She accepted it preciously. “It’s beautiful…thank you” she marveled, tucking it into a safe corner where it wouldn’t leave its hilt. 

“And Stella…”

He paused. She turned her head to him.

The words laid heavy on him. They called him “silvertongue” and yet his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. 

“Stella I…I have to tell you…tell you that…”

Her eyes went a little wide, her plump lips barely parted. He got closer. But everything froze. No- it was too much. He knew where and to who she was returning to. It would ruin all things good between them.

He couldn’t …no, he never could tell her.

“Stella, I hope…when you return…that you are happy.” Loki finished.

She relaxed and smiled at him.

“I will be. And I hope you see your family again too…and that you are the happiest god in all the realms.”

She cupped his cheek with her lovely smile. Then she released and settled in.

With a deep breath, Loki lifted his hand and twirled one finger. A portal appeared at the end of the path. The driver from the palace nodded- a stout, somber man who said nothing and minded his business. He clicked the reigns.

The carriage went through the glowing, golden portal. Once it vanished through, it closed. Gradual and sudden as a dying firework. 

Loki stood there. Half hoping it would return any second…

It did not.

He found himself blinking, a quiet tear going down his face.

He wanted her to stay. If he had his way with all things, she’d stay with him in that palace for…for as much time would let them. Haunting him in every corner. Hearing her footsteps, her voice, a flick of blue that he knew for sure was her. Only this time it wouldn’t be her.

But internally, he would never forget Stella. And she would always be there, at least in his mind.

He loved her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Aldwinter was astonished when on its muddy streets, there emerged a grand carriage. They all gasped and huddled out of doors or smashed their faces into windows to see it. Such finery down here in this humble place! They could practically see the mud sticking to the wheels already.

When they caught who was inside, there was even more tittering about them.

“Why…is that…Mrs. Ransome? Alive! And looking quite well if I dare say! Going through the towns paraded like a princess! What is she doing?”

The carriage arrived before the white house on the field. 

Jo was outside, swinging about a stick, imagining it a sword. Her little kerchief on her head slipped and she pulled it up. Then she turned and dropped her stick as it headed right to her. 

Inside the window, she saw a blonde head and a kind smile. 

Jo opened the door and the dog began to bark from inside. Her brown braid flipping in the air as she was running about. 

“Mama! Mama is home! Everyone! Hurry!” 

The three children darted out first. The grand carriage stopped and out from the door was a fine lady in a blue travel suit.

She lifted her veil and they gasped.

She smiled, tears in her eyes.

“Darlings- my beautiful darlings!” she said.

“Mama!” they all gasped,.

They all ran forward and she knelt down to embrace them and ksis their heads, their joy glowring. The dog was barking and there were heavy, masculine footsteps from a study hurrying down the stairs to follow them. 

All in that house beaming with the light of joy.

 And the lonely god realms away knew it was happening, as he stood in his castle and smiled with tears in his eyes.

[ladycamillewrites]

αмηєѕια 🦋

❍ Will Ransome x f!reader

❍ written for @muddyorbs 14 days of Valentines event

warnings 18+ eventual smut, memory loss - retrograde amnesia, soft foreplay

A strange feeling swirled like a thunderstorm in your brain as you tried to open those heavy lids.

Groaning from the rays of sunshine invading your sensitive eyes, they fluttered open, numerous outlines slowly becoming recognizable.

You didn’t know where you were at first but the nightstand on your left was weirdly familiar, a glass of water waiting on top of the wooden surface. Still overwhelmed by the headache and several hurting limbs you reached out to the glass, took a few sips and placed it back.

Then, for the first time since you woke, you turned to your right. 

“Darling! You are awake“ a foreign man said gleefully, a broad smile spreading on his handsome face as his arms quickly extended in your direction.

Why on earth was there a stranger, no two strangers in your bedroom?

Squeaking and prepping yourself on flattened palms, you scooted away from the man whose oceanic gaze dramatically dropped the second you reacted. With the few skittish glances you took, it was unmistakable that the other man on the right was a doctor.

Where you seriously ill?

“Don’t touch me“ it blurted out of you, hands fumbling with the eiderdown to cover your cleavage on full display by a loose nightgown. 

The man flinched, however, the reached out hand froze where he held it like a still standing offer. God, who was this pervert thinking he could just come with along with the doctor and call you pet names. 

Or perhaps he was a doctor as well?

Somehow, it felt like a fever dream, your thoughts still skittish and intangible while a wondrously handsome man wordlessly begged for your touch. 

“Are you still hurt? Dove, please talk to me“ his soothing baritone rung in your ear for the first time, sounding like it could’ve been god himself calling you up to him. Where you to die? 

Shaking your head, loose hair flying along, you tried to grip a reasonable reflection on the whole scenario that was all too weird.

Where were you manners, you asked yourself trying to concentrate on reality rather than the puffy irritation in your brain. There must be a simple explanation for those two gentleman to look after you. 

Why-ever the handsome brown haired with the ethereal speck of ginger in those loose waves was calling you darling, though, remained a pressing riddle.

“I- apologies doctor. I am just moderately unwell“ you spoke, volume kept low to not overstrain your palpably strained mind. Somehow you just assumed the fine man in his puffy white shirt and the brown vest to be a practitioner as well. 

Watching his face twitch and eyebrows slant in what seemed like a last ray of hope, he leaned closer to you, the magical ban of those steel blue orbs keeping you in place. “Y/n Ransome… I beg you. Do not play games on me after yesterday’s accident“.

“Y/n Ransome“ you murmured to yourself, concentrating on the sound of your first name with this certain last. It didn’t fit. It didn’t seem right, no, this wasn’t your correct full name.

The second man sitting farther in the corner just watched you through narrowed eyes, rubbing his chin as if he was analyzing you. Repeating your silent murmur in a deep whisper, the fine man who had called you darling became utterly confused, lips screwing shut. 

Perhaps they landed in the wrong room of your parent’s huge farm house. It had -how many rooms were there again, you wondered, brows furrowing in deep confusion.

“You must be mistaken. My name is not Ransome“ you said gaze directed at the two man again. 

The one close to you snorted, shooting up from the chair, looking like he was about to get in bed with you. Panicking you pulled the duvet even closer, pivoting to the left.

Away from the man you would have laid with if met differently. 

“Will“ the black haired man in the back began, his tone gaining urgency as he continued to talk “Please let me. Just a moment“.

It sounded like a question though. 

Will, as you now knew, nodded in defeat, eyes as blue as the north sea water on a sunny day. You could get lost in him. Who was this fine stranger your heart yearned to know? 

Boldness from god knows where let you investigate every inch of his face. It was almost rude staring but you couldn't help it.

Oh, there was something about him, something magical and so deeply soothing that it almost excused his intrusive behavior. Perhaps he looked familiar after all? A new inhabitant of Aldwinter?

No…

“Yn?” The second man called out for your attention, your eyes quickly distracted and jumping from Will to the doctor. 

“If you’re last name name is not Ransome, what is it then?”

You couldn’t help yourself but giggle at his stupid question. A thing you could ask a preschooler. But your brows twitched for a short moment when you heard the blonde man next to you chuckle lightly. 

Was this fun to him? Or was he just happy that whatever accident had allegedly befallen you hadn’t left any serious injury? 

Pulling your gaze back to the black haired man, you didn’t spend a single thought on his question. It was ridiculous. 

“What kind of medical examination is that?” You started quipping “Of course I know my last name, it’s…”

And then your face dropped, exited hands freezing and sinking back down onto the duvet. His question was simple however, you couldn’t answer. 

Slowly your completely derailed expression met Will’s who seemed just as shocked as you, palms pressed against his temples, fingers flowing in line with the creases on his forehead. Those wonderful blue eyes were widened however, the hue of hope was nearly dried out.

“I’m- I’m supposed to know this“ you whispered, rocking back and forth like a disturbed child. 

The doctor came closer, one hand resting supportingly on Will’s shoulder before he spoke “I'm afraid my worst misgiving has come true. The accident has caused retrograde amnesia but I don’t yet know how long it will last“. 

“Wha- What d you mean how long it will last?“ 

Two painful weeks of learning things that once had been a matter of course and getting disappointed in your damaged memory were behind you when you made you way to the office room in your spacious house. 

To see your husband Will Ransome.

It still sounded like a made up fairytale a drunken fellow began to tell with his tenth mug of beer pivoting in his perilous grip.

The vicar was a dreamy man; calm, collated and blissfully charming. Not to forget the fine way he looked with his white puffy shirts, sleeves rolled up and first top buttons undone. And those eyes… 

To your heart it was no wonder your previous you had married him. 

However, things always got more complicated when the complexity of a human brain got involved. As it was with you. 

People were giving you weird, somehow pitying looks, some even constantly visited you do see whether you would remember names and things now, after the accident. It was surely well, mostly good will thriving in the people of Aldwinter but you desperately needed to be seen as normal again.

Although you still were far from reaching your old, normal state of mind, it didn’t hinder you from craving a bit of the normality an unlucky fate had stolen from you.

And this prior reality, this life you had built up also meant a healthy relationship to your husband. 

And there you were wearing a flimsy, silky nightgown with no underwear, fresh out of the bathtub with hair smelling like flowering roses. On your way to seduce your husband. You wanted him to show you what got destroyed, to override your empty memories with something unforgettable.

Candle light was casting sinful shadows on Will’s sharp features as you spotted him sitting on his desk and probably musing for what to talk about in his upcoming Easter Sermon. The beard lit up in a gingerly tone, almost mingling with the flames while his dark blonde hair fell in fluffy waves leading down to one of his notorious white shirts.

Naturally, it hung open and displayed his chiseled chest with a sluttish undertone.

God, you had difficulties restraining yourself around him for the last two weeks. It was a costant fight of mind against heart and body who had traitorously teamed up to pour oil in your newly aflame fire of lust. 

Tonight it shall happen you told yourself, feeling that you were ready to enter this reality again.

Sighing, Will propped his chin on his thumbs, palms pressed together in front of his nose. A desperate pose yet he looked like carved marble.

You crept up on him like a silent Jaguar on a mission, slowly hoisting your hands to let them rest on his shoulders.

The vicar flinched from the sudden, unexpected touch until your breathy “shhh“ soothed his strained nerves. 

Beginning to apply pressure on the strings of muscle lying underneath white fabric, you could feel him relax again, the low hum escaping his mouth surrounded you like a hord of butterflies fleeing straight in your belly.

It tickled whenever you heard him speak.

“My darling… what you doing down here this late?“ Your husband asked, his reflection in the mirror orange from licking flames, eyes softly shut and mouth curled in a silent smile. Visibly at peace. 

A peace that was only to find in a halcyon normalcy; a state you wanted to fully dive in again. 

You couldn’t help but blush at the true nature of your late visit, a few seconds of pregnant silence forcing you to say something. “I- well, I simply wanted to look after my husband who is working so hard to please his people“.

Half the truth half secrecy was the path you chose. 

It was far too early to simply sneak up on him whispering that you craved his body close to yours, your limbs entangled with his and his cock deep…

“I’m doing fine, y/n. Really. This speech just won’t write itself“ Will’s deep chuckle interrupted your unholy cascade of lust making you focus on the massage again.

Hell, you were nervous. Just as nervous as in the many mornings a dream about your husband got you occupied during breakfast, watching Will greedily licking honey from his dexterous digits.

Your eyes darted back up to meet his reflection, the delighted oceanic gaze melting within yours when he returned the glance. They were full of love and warmth, just like his whole demeanor as you had learned again.

Those emotions consumed you, no, it had swallowed you whole since you knew who he was. 

Eventually his eyes let you make a decision in an instant. Almost instinctively when you drank him in.

Dragging your hands up towards the defined apex of his neck, you lowered your head letting it rest right next to Will’s while fingers drew small circles around his Adam’s apple. Muscle and veins popped out when he raked his head, moulding into your touch like you had never experienced before. 

Well, technically you did but seeing it now, watching him give in to you and shatter his guard for you to explore his soul was utterly touching. Almost made you cry if there wasn’t the growing arousal pooling in your panties…

“Perhaps a creative pause will do” you cooed right in his ear, eyes catching the soft hair on his skin shooting up like loyal soldiers. Loyal to your touch, your voice.

Those velvety lips you had started kissing again a week ago were slowly curled up in a cunning smirk, the ginger hue of his beard glowing redder than ever. 

Feeling him rocking back in the chair, spinning it slowly on one foot you soon found yourself facing him, your husband. It was magical, feeling like a steel blue jinx you would never want to escape. 

Humming in gentle approval Will’s lips met yours when you straddles his lap. Feeling his mouth twitch at your sudden boldness you couldn’t suppress a giggle as sweet as honey. 

“My beautiful wife, I told you it can wait” the vicar murmured in between loving kisses, his slick tongue invading your mouth, toying with your tongue in a feverish manner. 

You snaked your arms around his neck shifting on his lap what drew a coarse moan from your husband’s starved lips. A sinful sound yet so heavenly to hear.

“Will, please... I- I want things to be normal again” you whispered, the plea skittishly peeking out of your low voice. 

He knew. You had been fighting for status quo since the day you woke up, working hard and thriving. 

But this, this very special request was taking him by surprise.

“Darling, I love you so. But are you sure you're ready to take such a big step?” his soothing baritone rung close to your ear, interrupted by a sharp hiss as you dragged your crotch across his hardening cock. “G-God you temptress. Are you s-sure?”. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Will” you breathed, hips becoming more and more demanding, searching the friction of grinding against his rock hard member. 

It felt like salvation even though completely unfamiliar to your wounded mind. A healing balm perhaps. 

A quiet squeak left your sealed lips when two strong hands dug in the flesh of your hips, keeping you pressed onto his clothed cock. “I want you to swear that you feel ready, dove. I would never push you to sleep with me” 

For a second your breath ran cold, a sugary pill of anxiety swallowed. You had done it before only unbeknownst to your damaged mind.

Of course the blonde man saw your brows slant.

“You are my wife and I have sworn before god to protect and revere you” he began, raising a gentle hand to lovingly tug a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips leaving a sizzling sensation.

Well, you wanted him. There was no waiting.

“Tell me about that dream, sweet woman” Will coaxed more to bubble out of your heating body, your naked feet wrapped around his calves and torso held tight by the vicars strong arms. 

Home, as you recognized it.

“At night, w-when I sleep-” you started, voice trembling like a lamb exposed to the wolf and cheeks blushing cherry red. Get a grip, you told yourself, he was your husband for god's sake. 

“What exactly are you dreaming of my little angel?” 

He was impatient. A lusty vicar waiting for you to finish your lewd prayers. 

“Of you... a-and me. How you make love to me in our bedroom and moan my name. How you feel between my thighs and- and deep inside“.

“I see“ Will chuckled, leaning forward to take over your play of seduction. The deep shouldering echo of his voice felt close as his perfect teeth ghosted across your pulse point, lips embracing your soft skin.

The friction became as hot as the fire blazing wildly in your fireplace, a thin layer of sweat making your skin glow.

Humming against your neck, taking in your scent Will's mind replayed the thousands of nights he had been intimate with you. For you it would be like a first so the vicar had to be careful, had to restrain his deepest desires.

“Promise, dove. Promise me that you tell me if something doesn't feel good“.

“I swear“ you panted, hair sliding down your shoulders when you cocked your head and bounced on his bucking hips.

A feeling you had forgotten you craved so bad. A feeling far beyond your most erotic dreams.

“Good girl“ Will's breath felt like a flame licking at your body, igniting and nourishing the fire of lust simmering inside your body.

Then, suddenly, he stood up, hoisting you on your wobbly knees before hasty hands began to shuffle your nightgown. Nodding with a meek smile, the blonde man accepted your consent eventually coaxed the silk off.

You stood naked before him; your fully clothed husband.

“You're heaven sent, y/n. Nothing but god's most beautiful angel“.

The words of praise dripped from his mouth like a heady cocktail of love, admiration and awe. A mixture you would never of no matter how hard it might have been to fight your way back.

One of his big hand was wrapped around the back of your throat, the other caressing and twisting your nipples just right.

A deep sigh ascended your mouth, muscles beginning to relax while the lusty heat crept up on your every cell.

“I will be gentle, dove“ the vicar purred against your cleavage, his body weight pushing you backwards until you sunk down, laying on a fluffy lambskin rug.

Closer to the fire burning right next to you, closer to being burnt by your own fire. A fortuitous metaphor.

“I trust you“ you whimpered when Will's strong hips weaved in between your legs, the soft fabric of his pants brushing your sensitive nud. Gasping, the whirlwind of desire was about to swallow you while your husband purred the sweetest of praises with his right hand traveling down your exposed body.

“I will make you feel so good... Let me worship my dazzling wife just how she deserves“.

And your legs dropped further open without a grain of reluctance. At the newfound access you felt his fingertips caress your slick folds. “Will-“ you didn't even knew what it was you wanted but all your mind knew was him.

Your handsome husband smiling down at you with desire in his oceanic orbs, flames still casting moving shadows on his sharp features and the orange light giving him an ethereal halo.

He was a god himself.

It was perfect. The rosy, harmonic normalcy you craved was wrapping you in a blissful haze far beyond your best imagination.

“Dove?“ the question was low, carefully placed with his fingers resting and circling around your entrance. Your eyes darted up to meet his, the deep blue hues drowning every last speck of insecurity.

“Hm?“ you hummed against his lips, relishing in the feeling of his weight gently pressing against you as he sunk down to kiss you. “Be honest with me b-but... would it be too much to ask if I claimed you right here?“.

Sizzling shivers ran down your spine at his request. But there was no fear nor anxiety like it had been for the past time. Just him and the gleeful renaissance of a familiar passion.

“Make love to me, Will“ you finally breathed in his ear, hands fumbling with a strand of his hair to keep him close, near the exited heart hammering in your rising chest.

Where his soul lied.

It was never lost, you now realized. Maybe you were denied access but the spark, no matter how small it might have been after the accident, was the eternal one, burning with a matter of course you would never fathom.

“As you wish, milady“ your husband smirked, propping himself on one elbow, velvet lips never leaving your face.

“I- I missed this... you“.

But instead of a real answer you heard his belt unbuckle with a promising clink, the hot tip of his cock soon brushing through your folds.

Your breath got caught on your throat, eyes widened and glued on his reassuring smile that brought you to relax again in a ridiculous instant.

“I know this might be all knew to you again, dove“ he began panting in your ear, voice descending in deeper, purely masculine octaves “But you will soon be howling my name again“.

And with that vow of pleasure he lined himself up, your fingers clasping in the white shirt when your husband slowly inched inside of you. His filthy mouth only added to the overwhelming feeling of being filled, stretched out so good by the man you learned to love. Once again.

“W-Will, ohh godd“.

“Shhh... I know, love, I know“ the vicar soothed your agitated mind, eyebrows slanting in pleasure he had missed for so long. A blissful pleasure only you were able to grant him.

When he bottomed out, a strangled moan of his name drowned the cracking fire, echoing through the whole room, each wall perfectly reflecting the cry of ecstasy. Only to harmonize like a poem with his own groans and unholy cusses.

He felt like heaven, like the ultimate salvation he always preached about.

“Good girl“ Will rasped, hosting himself on his palms, ready to fuck you like he knew your body would remember. “I- I will nghh fuck make up for the time we've lost, darling. I don't care if I miss tomorrow's morning mass“.

And of course he did miss the mess, spending the whole night and morning entangled with his wife, gifting her a hundred precious memories life had taken.

thank you for reading my boos :) I hope I did the 14 days event justice with this little piece. Since the event is about 'firsts' -> this is my very first Will Ransome fic 💜

tags / fyi: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @coldnique @springdandelixn @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @toozmanykids @simplyholl @michelleleewise @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @joyful-enchantress @thomase1 @vbecker10 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @lunarnights95 @ladymischief11 @smolvenger

[lokidbadguy]

THE CLOSE UP, I CAN'T

yes, I am will ransome's whore.

[liminalpebble]

Violet: Chapter 1, Providence

Masterlist Link

Summary: The solitary Reverend Ransome leaves the empty nest of his home in Essex, beginning his life as a professor in London. His expectation of a contemplative religious life as a pious widower is complicated by an odd and alluring foreign student, Violetta Vespero. How can the conflicted vicar keep his gaze and worship skyward with such delicious temptations before him on Earth?

Will Ransome (The Essex Serpent) x Original Female Character

CW: Sacrilege all over the place, slow Burn to smut, angst, multi-parter, probably pretty historically inaccurate  

Chapter 1: Providence

Will reclined in his modest room in the spartan London seminary. He had trouble sleeping in the sea of noise that roiled in the city streets every night. It was a shock to him after the quiet countryside of Essex, but he couldn't stay in that home any longer. The emptiness of it after all the life it contained was too much to bear. Stella, his beautiful delicate blue star of the sea had returned to her maker. Cora had abandoned him for a life of chasing after her fossils; her Biblical monsters buried in the clay of creation, though Cora would never think of it that way.

And the children...his beloved precocious precious children were adults now, living adventurous lives of discovery, growing into the full forms of themselves. How he missed the weight of them in his arms as he read to them when they were small. It seemed like eons ago now, and he was beginning to feel like one of Cora's skeletal beasts, buried under the sands of time.

So it was that the reverend found himself nearing the age of fifty, walking the floorboards of an empty house which once held the footprints of so many. It felt as if everyone he loved had moved on to new places and adventures to fuel their curiosity except for him. He pondered, in his little dormitory room, how he ended up here, and why. What was it he really wanted?

It seemed like an act of providence when his friend from divinity school, Father Grant, visiting one rainy day, offered a position at a ladies' college in London.

“It shouldn't be difficult work for a clever mind like yours, Will,” said Father Grant. “They're looking for a well-educated man of good character to teach the classics, literature, humanities, divinity...perhaps also foreign languages.”

“I'm not Catholic, Paul.” Will said, his deep voice almost a croak from lack of use. Aside from his hour at the pulpit every Sunday, Will cloistered himself these days, giving up his walks to visit parishioners, in favor of solitary ones in the salt air to nurse his loneliness.

“It doesn't matter, Will. These damn Jesuits are in favor of scholarly advancement and a diversity of teachers, regardless of sect. They now welcome professors with open arms so long as they show fair enough morals and credentials,” Paul huffed as if it was all an annoyance to him, but Reverend Ransome smiled, knowing his friend to be progressive and enlightened at heart, just glad for a chance to grumble.

“You said it wouldn't be difficult. It sounds like their standards are quite high.”

“Well yes, but the students are all women. Docile delicate things, either preparing themselves to be entertaining trophies for rich husbands, or readying themselves for the convent and teaching brats in the Lord's service.”

“Paul,” Will said disapprovingly, “Shame on you for being so dismissive of women. The world is progressing past such notions. Watch out, lest it leave you behind.”

Father Grant gave a deep belly laugh. “Me, Will? I think you have to worry about that a good deal more than I do.”

Ransome tapped his teacup back down with defeat and realized, begrudgingly, that his old friend was very right. By the time Grant left, Will had shaken his hand and found himself preparing to enter a new life in the city.

Now, here he was, laying in his uncomfortable bunk, in his private room, kept awake by the city noise and nervous for his first day of teaching.

Taglist: @coldnique @muddyorbs @goblingirlsarah @acidcasualties @jennyggggrrr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @icytrickster17 @pati52 @marcotheflychair @ladyofthestayingpower @gigglingtigger @alexakeyloveloki @letsg00000honey @bitchyexpertprincess @lokisgoodgirl @sweetsigyn

[13atoms]

You are single handedly carrying all of the Count Orlo fics and I cannot thank you enough~🐝

thank you so much <3 truly my passion to make people look at The Great on AO3 and go "why the fuck are there so many for orlo"

[spooky1980]

Damned this was so bloody hot 🔥 🥵 I absolutely loved this.

measurements

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: After Cora's birthday party, your brother Luke, along with Martha, made a few offhanded jokes about Reverend Ransome being "small", you quickly put them both in their place by explaining what you do back in London: using a man's posture, gait, and overall stature to determine certain "measurements" for your clients.

Pairing: Will Ransome x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, to put it mildly, i am not the one, do not fucking try me); unprotected p in v; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: just a bit more than strangers to lovers; reader is Luke Garrett's sister

Every bone in your body told you to put as much distance between you and Will Ransome the second you met him tonight at the party your brother was throwing to celebrate Cora Seaborne's party. You'd gotten quite adept at reading situations and his particular one sent your rational thoughts into a tailspin.

A vicar, married with two kids, and yet falling helplessly in love with the very woman that you knew your brother Luke was also pathetically in love with. Exuding this strange repressed sensuality that he didn't even seem to be aware of with every awkward misstep throughout his little dance with Cora tonight.

And then there was the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself from stealing glances at you, with a heat behind his steel blue eyes that you couldn't rationally attribute to the candlelight illuminating the quaint little home in Aldwinter that Cora and Martha had so warmly welcomed you into. If what you'd inferred from tonight's gathering was correct, then building a meters thick wall between you and the disorientingly beautiful man this town called Reverend was the best course of action.

That was how you ended up here, in the dining area of the cottage sitting at the table with Luke and Martha while Cora ran out of the house to 'think things through' on the way to the Ransome household to return the elder daughter's scarf. You'd thought it was wise not to accompany Cora to that little charade of hers in case her well-intended enough good deed turned into something less than innocent.

Now you were stuck listening to your brother lament on why Cora didn't fancy him and what she could possibly see in Reverend William Ransome that she couldn't see in him.

You had an answer, of course. You'd measured the man within five minutes. You had ten good reasons why he was chosen over your brother.

"She's collectin' 'im," Martha surmised, her words slurred from her borderline excessive intake of wine. "She wants to…put him in a little glass jar. And label his parts in Latin."

That seemed to give your brother a tiny burst of confidence, holding his fingers mere inches apart. "Little?" They both began to laugh at the notion, of which you quickly followed suit, but you were more laughing at their hunch than with it. "Won't need a very big jar, then…bit microscopic," he slurred, putting his eye up against the mouth of the wine bottle and pretending it was his microscope back in his practice in London.

"Oh Luke, dear brother mine, you'd be remiss in your observations if you actually believe that," you spoke up, swirling your wine in your little goblet as the two turned their heads to look at you. "I dare say you're speaking from your ego rather than that superior brain you always seem to be parading around back home."

"And what do you know about it then, little sister?"  He leaned back in his chair, an air of superiority overtaking him as he asked you that question, a clear show of how non-intimidating  he viewed you as compared to himself.

You stood from your chair, placing your goblet down on the table, before beginning. "You're laughably unaware that I actually read through all your medical textbooks, aren't you?"

"No, I've known since I began medical school, Y/N. I just also know that without the proper instructor that a proper school can provide the fine young men in our society, much like myself, that you're ill-equipped to understand—"

"A wise woman once told me that university is just a bunch of young, well-to-do men, paying older and 'smarter' men to read to them. I figured I would save the money and the time and the misogynistic lectures about how women are for the house and the 'little jobs', and instead read to myself," you cut him off, his smirk fading by the slightest at your words.

"And what half-witted misguided woman told you this then?"

Your lips twitched upward in a smirk of your own. "Cora Seaborne." That name made his mouth fade into a grim line, most of his ego suddenly deflating. "Now that that's sorted, I can get to telling you what I've been doing with the knowledge I've acquired from your books over the years. See, Luke, since I cannot become a doctor in my own right and have my own practice, I set up a consultation office in London based on the area I chose to specialize in."

"What area is that?"

You turned to Martha, who seemed genuinely curious about what you'd done with your knowledge. "Anatomy. My clientele consists mainly of women who come to me for my evaluation on potential lovers." Her eyes widened at your description, her curiosity clearly piqued. "I use a man's stance, gait, and overall posture to give a woman a certain set of measurements. Now I'm not saying it's accurate down to the centimeter, but considering some men's proclivities to round up, I reckon my estimates are rather…reliable."

"Bollocks," Luke bellowed, his syllables extended as a result of his inebriation. "Measure me, then, genius." He hissed the last word, clearly meant as a jab rather than a compliment.

Before you could give him your answer, you three were interrupted by a loud knock at the cottage's front door. "It's open!" you called out, feeling your knees weakening at the sight of the towering vicar stepping through the threshold, the bow tie of his suit loosened a great deal and his hair disheveled by the rather violent night air. "Oh. Hello again, Reverend Ransome. Cora isn't back yet, I believe she went to return a scarf your daughter left behind…? I'd have thought you would have seen her on your way back here."

"Erm…no. I did not," he answered you, a tinge of nervousness evident in his voice. Or perhaps it was awkwardness. Perhaps he sensed that the other two people in the room with you held a questionable amount of dislike towards him as well.

"Ah, well perhaps she's still trying to enjoy the night air then. She should be back soon. You're welcome to sit and wait for her, if you'd like." He gave you a timid smile as he sat down at the edge of the couch, rubbing his hands down his expansive thighs.  The action had such an effect on you that you could feel the walls of your sex clenching around fuck all nothing, so you turned toward Martha again, clearing your throat as if the action would also clear your mind of the lurid thoughts that just entered your head. "Where was I again?"

"Your brother challenged you to--"

"Oh, right! Right. Thank you, Martha." You turned to Luke again. "Out of respect for you, brother mine, I did my best to never…but since you did quite literally ask for it, five. But you tell women it's six because you believe that they can't tell the difference, but believe me when I say this, they can. They most definitely can."

His eyes widened at your estimate, his smirk once again fading into a straight grim line on his face. "There's no way—you guessed!" His voice had taken on a petulant tone, rife with his indignance and disbelief.

"Well judging from the lack of smugness on your face, it seems my guess is quite accurate. Now moving on to your earlier jests about…ehem…little jars and microscopes?" The amusement on Martha's face disappeared as her eyes darted ever so quickly to the vicar. "Let me just tell you both that you're very very wrong." You emphasized your point by briefly holding your hands a couple inches less of a foot apart, making them both choke on nothing.

"I may need to pay you a visit when we return to London then, Y/N," she chuckled, taking yet another swig of the wine. "Someone I want you to err…evaluate."

You gave her a coy smile as you stepped in between her and your brother, crouching down so your faces were level with theirs, and you could speak in much more hushed tones. "I don't just read men, by the way. I read situations," you began to explain. "You two have a borderline intolerable tension about you, so I highly suggest that you take it upstairs, explore a connection based solely on your shared experience and, as the Americans would so crudely refer to it, fuck it out."

Luke sounded like he was choking on his own spit at your words. "Little sister!" he slurred. "Since when did you become so crass?"

"I haven't been little in nearly a decade, Luke Garrett," you snapped back. "Perhaps if you'd bothered to actually look in the last ten years instead of constantly trying to prove yourself my superior, you would have realized it."

Your venom seemed to dissipate a touch when Martha broke the tension between you and your brother. "What shared experience?"

A self-indulgent smile found its way onto your face, the uncomfortable shifting on the couch from Will Ransome not going unnoticed by you. "Both of you are pitifully in love with Cora Seaborne," you whispered, feeling an almost addictive power coursing through you as they sputtered and stood out of their seats, the contents of the table rattling in place. "Go on, then." You jerked your head in the direction of the stairs.

"You'll be alright to tidy up here then, sister?"

"Of course. I've been tidying up after you for decades, Luke, this is child's play for me at my age."

The two of them made quick work to vacate the dining area, going up the stairs where you'd hope neither of them would last very long so that you wouldn't be subjected to the sounds of their little tryst for too long. At least for now you were free of the smugness in the air that always seemed to be present when your brother was around.

The only thing you didn't quite think through was that now you were alone in the bottom floor of the cottage with the absurdly tall vicar you'd spent a good portion of tonight trying to avoid, waiting for Cora to finally return from 'clearing her head'.

You gave him an awkward smile as you began to clear the dishes from the party, making the split-second decision to gulp down the remainder of your wine in hopes that it would at least hinder you from feeling how rife with tension the room still was because of the way his gaze was filled with that bizarre repressed sensuality. You stifled the groan that wanted to escape you once the realization dawned on you.

That heat in his eyes had nothing to do with the candlelight.

And the wine only worsened the effect he had on you.

"I could assist you with that," he offered, standing and making his way to the table before you'd even had a chance to accept. You did your best to silence your sigh, feeling exponentially warmer now that he was mere feet away from you as you mumbled your gratitude. "May I ask what that quip of Doctor Garrett accusing you guessing something was all about?"

It was your turn now to choke on the air. "Just something about my profession, that's all," you answered evasively, hoping that it would be enough for him to drop the subject.

"And what profession would that be?"

"Anatomy." You thought it best to keep your answers as vague as possible. "I think it prudent to not give too many details about the intricacies of my job to people I'd only met today, so…perhaps if we were to ever meet again."

You'd both made your way to the kitchen, placing the dishes and glasses into the sink as you carried on your conversation. "Perhaps I'll hold you to that, Y/N."

Fucking hell, you thought to yourself. For a man of the cloth he sure sounds like his entire form was crafted by the Devil himself, sounding like sex when he says my name like that should be a damn crime.

When you turned around to return to the dining area -- and put some much needed distance between you two -- you realized how close he'd been standing, barely a foot separating the two of you from one another, the heat radiating from his body washing over you and making you find it difficult to breathe. The air around you began to thin once he'd stepped even closer, his fingers lightly touching the inside of your wrist, slowly traveling up your arm.

Your brain scrambled for a way out of this, knowing full well that a dalliance with a married man would never sit right in your conscience. Even if he was the one moving closer. Even if he already was potentially committing indiscretions against his marriage.

"Cora," you whispered, already feeling the loss of his touch the moment the name left your lips.

"What?"

"She won't take too kindly to me encroaching on what's already hers." Your words were enough for him to take a step back and grant you enough space to sidestep and make your way back to the living area. They were also enough to sober you to the harsh reality of the situation.

Because he belonged to Cora, no matter how his marital situation may change in the coming months given his wife's health, Will Ransome would never be yours.

Two Years Later

"You're sure about these numbers?"

You faced your last appointment of the day, Celia Marsters, with an accommodating smile. "I wouldn't say pinpoint accurate, but a good enough estimate. As per the feedback from my previous clients who have availed of his particular service of mine, the largest discrepancy I've ever had was…perhaps a quarter of an inch?"

Her eyes widened at your statistics. "Really? That close, huh?" You nodded, a wide grin forming on her face. "I'll have something to look forward to, then." She reached into her purse to take out a handful of paper bills and placed them on your desk. "And you're available for other types of consultation as well, yeah?"

"Of course, Celia. My door's always open for other consultations, not just…measurements." You both let out a fit of giggles at your choice of words. "Truly I do hope for your happiness that this would be the last man you'd need me to evaluate. You deserve a good and happy life."

"I hope so, too, Y/N." She gave you a quick hug before exiting your office, throwing you a look as she reached the stairs as if her knickers had dropped to the floor of their own volition. "Fucking hell, your next one's a looker."

You threw her a look to show your confusion. "Celia, you were my last appointment." Her amusement seemed to increase at that bit of information, giving you a shrug and a cheeky wink as she made her way down the stairs. You chalked it off to her being mistaken, that whoever was downstairs was probably here to see another tenant within the building.

A few moments after you'd started piling together the info you'd begun to gather for another client, you heard footsteps stopping right outside your door.

"Hello, Y/N."

That voice. You knew that hauntingly beautiful voice anywhere. The voice that plagued your lustful dreams ever since you came back to London from Aldwinter two years ago. The man that you'd sinfully fantasized over day in and day out, despite knowing that he would remain but a fantasy. You may be unconventional and some lesser minded men would even go so far as to accuse you of witchcraft, but you had your morals.

You refused to entangle yourself with men who already belonged to someone else. Even though it seemed that Cora held quite a different set of values from you, seeing as she'd been getting exceedingly close with your brother the last few months.

I wonder if he knows about it and perhaps he's simply letting the situation unfold, you thought to yourself. You quickly dismissed the thought, though, ultimately concluding that this was none of your business. A somber smile found its way to your face as you looked up and your eyes met his. Despite the toll the last few years had taken on him, the man was still as unfairly handsome as ever.

"Mister Ransome, it's good to see you again. I didn't know you were visiting London." You stood and motioned toward the couch that Celia had vacated. "Please, come in. I'm afraid Cora isn't here, though."

"I'm actually not visiting, Miss Garrett. And I didn't come here looking for Cora, either," he answered you as he stepped into your office. His words were so soft spoken as if he was hesitant in adjusting into a more casual atmosphere with you, just as you were with him. Understandable. Because the last time you two were in the same room together you quite literally scurried away from him. "I've just finished moving here to London with my children, and I passed by Luke's clinic earlier today to ask him where your office was."

His words had you taking an unsubtle step back. "You asked for me?" He answered you with a timid smile and a curt nod, choosing to stand by the couch as he stared at you with those heated eyes, an almost exact mirror of how he did so in your lurid dreams about the man. "Well I'm positive he didn't appreciate that," you remarked with a chuckle.

"And why would that be?"

"He gets it a fair bit. People coming to him and him believing that he has a new patient only to be asked to be pointed in my direction for…my area of expertise." You finished off your vague explanation with a slight chuckle, stacking the files you had out for Celia's case together. "Would it be so rude of me if I were to organize these while we talk?"

"Oh, not at all. Please. Truly I'm already delighted I even got to see you today." You took the opportunity to walk towards the shelf to hide your face from his view, allowing your expression to mirror your confusion over his words. A few moments passed before you heard him speak again. "May I ask why the walls are carpeted?"

"I'd like to grant as much privacy as I can to my clients, especially from any gossips who would let slip who was here making inquiries and consulting with me. The carpets ensure that to a certain degree the sounds coming out of this room would be muffled at best, lest we be in a screaming match."

Your only indicator that he was moving around your office was the way his voice seemed to be coming from a different spot at his next response. "You know, I distinctly remember a promise from you. That if we were ever to see each other again, you'd tell me what it is exactly that you do?"

An amused grin made its way to your face, taking the next few minutes to explain to him how you'd read your brother's textbooks from medical school, and how you used it as the backbone to build the foundation of your services. "Tell me, Mister Ransome…did you receive some peculiar looks when you informed reception that you were here for my office?"

"How did you--?"

"Majority of my clientele are women," you explained. "The anatomical knowledge that I wield so that I may provide the services that they avail of is…mostly geared for them. The services I offer gives them a rudimentary evaluation on a potential lover." You took a breath, walking back to your desk before you finished your explanation. "I use a man's stance, gait, and overall posture to infer a certain number. A measurement, if you will."

You glanced up to see his reaction to your words, stifling a chuckle as he glanced down to his crotch before looking back up at you,  the expression on his face daring you to confirm his unspoken question. The only response you could manage without bursting into a fit of laughter was a quick nod of your head. His next question, however, had you choking on your own spit. "Did you ever measure me?"

The words came out sputtered and stammered from your mouth. "I-It was purely o-on instinct. An acc--an accident, I swear to you." A chilling realization dawned on you, that he might now be questioning your meeting from two years ago. "I can assure you that Cora didn't invite me to Aldwinter so that I could evaluate you," you spoke in a rush.

"Y/N, take a breath. Please. You truly don't need to be on your guard around me." He held his hands open, arms outstretched towards you as he took a few steps forward. "It never even crossed my mind, really." He made his way to you and gently placed his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. "Breathe, sweet girl."

You suddenly became aware of how close he was standing to you once again, nearly forcing yourself to calm down so you could defuse the crackling tension that seemed to suffocate you now that he was standing not even mere feet away, hands holding you as if you were more than a near stranger to him. "Thanks," you said cautiously, giving him a strained smile. "Anyway, I suppose now that I've brought her up, I feel I should ask. How are things between you and Cora?"

You figured that mentioning her name would give him the same pause it did last time. Grant you just enough space so that you could maneuver your way out of his hold.

You were wrong.

Instead he gave you a small smile, his hands traveling down your arms to hold your own comparatively smaller ones, stroking the back with his thumbs. "Cora and I decided it best to not pursue any further romantic relationship. We tried. It didn't work out."

"Oh…" you breathed out, trying to focus on anything other than the strangely comforting warmth of his touch. "May I ask what happened? I mean…she seemed absolutely taken with you and now--"

"Now she's beginning a relationship with your brother, Doctor Garrett." Your eyes widened as you realized he was already aware of the very information you were keeping to yourself. "She was there with him when I visited his clinic." The air left your lungs as he moved a hand to cup your face, stroking across your cheekbone with his thumb. "As for what happened…I didn't think it was fair for her. If I chose to stay with her even though I couldn't seem to stop thinking about someone else."

You were unable to say anything in response as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a timidity still lingering about him despite how brazen the action truly was. That reserve, however, dissipated within moments as he moved his hand to start taking out the pins holding your hair up, pulling you close to him for another kiss as he did so.

Once you felt your hair cascade down your back, the pins once holding it up falling soundlessly to the carpeted floor, you weakened in Will's hold as he maneuvered you to lay down on your desk, your back laying flat against the wooden surface. "I need to know you want this, too," he rasped as he pulled away, placing his hands on the desk at your sides as he hovered over you.

The only response you could muster was a breathy moan of his name. Your mind was a mess, your lungs struggling to let in air in the aftermath of his kiss. Not to mention how the light coming in through the textured glass of your office window cast such an otherworldly glow onto his face, stealing away what was left of your rational thought.

"I need to hear you say it," he pleaded softly, pressing the lightest of kisses to your cheek, his lips ghosting across your skin as he continued his words. "You've lingered in my thoughts since the day you left Aldwinter. And I want nothing more than to kiss you again. To touch you. To take the dreams that have haunted me for years and make them real, but I need you to tell me you feel this too. That I didn't spend all this time fraught with a delusion that maybe you--"

"Feel the same?" you finished for him, your voice taking on a huskier tone as the air around you seemed to thicken exponentially. Feeling like you were inhaling molasses or chilled honey. "I do. I want this. I want you. Please--"

The rest of your words died on your tongue as he captured your mouth with his in a desperate kiss, finally allowing yourself to reach up and curl your hand around the back of his neck, your other grasping a handful of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. There was no resistance left in you when you felt his knee working its way between your legs, moaning into his mouth as he stepped between your parted thighs and you felt his hand begin to hike up the fabric of your skirt.

"These cases of yours…" he trailed off, curving his fingers around the back of your knee, coaxing you to part your legs wider. "You make an inference on whether the men you measure can pleasure your clients?"

You could feel your thoughts swimming at the feel of his hands caressing your bared thigh, finding it difficult to even form words as your ache for him grew stronger. "In a way," you whimpered. With how quickly your desperation for him was growing, you weren't above begging him to keep going.

He pressed his hips to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a groan against your skin. "Then tell me, sweet girl." A sharp moan escaped your mouth as he began to roll his hips into yours, his erection rubbing against your soaking folds. "Do you think I can pleasure you?"

All you could do was repeatedly moan "Yes!" as he kept grinding his hips to yours, pressing his lips along the side of your neck and working his way up to your mouth, kissing you languidly. As if he was savoring you. You moaned wantonly into the kiss as you felt his hand trailing upwards along your inner thigh until his fingers met with your slick entrance.

You gripped his shirt even tighter, starting to weave your fingers through his hair as his fingers left you, the sound of the laces of his trousers being undone sending you into a near frenzy as you grew more desperate for him by the moment. A staggered moan slipped through your lips as the tip of his cock brushing up the length of your slit, a shudder rippling through your body when you felt it tap against your clit before he started to inch his way inside you.

A feeling of fullness overwhelmed you as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, your mind in a state of rapture the moment a stuttered utterance of your name escaped him. You felt your walls clenching desperately around him once he grunted, "Mine." The tips of his fingers brushed across your cheek, making you open your eyes to the salacious sight of Will Ransome standing at full height, staring down at you with almost completely blackened eyes rife with ravenous intent. "May I m-move, dear girl?"

You placed your hand over his, pressing a kiss to his palm as you kept your gaze on him, before murmuring against his skin, "Please, Will."

That seemed to be all he needed to start moving inside you, his initial slow and careful shallow thrusts quickly turning merciless, pulling himself out until only the tip of his length remained, only to snap his hips to yours, fully entering you again in one fluid motion. Murmuring words of praise at you in fragments between each thrust.

About how beautiful you were as you took every inch of him.

About how he couldn't possibly get enough of you.

About how your moans were the sweetest music to him.

Every thrust and every praise seemed to work in tandem to steadily bring you closer to the peak of your ecstasy, like a coil you felt tightening more and more until you were begging him to push you over the edge.

That push came the moment you felt the pad of his thumb rubbing firm, tight circles on your clit, your ankles locking behind him as you pulled your bodies as close as you could manage, your walls clenching uncontrollably around him and bringing about his own release inside of you. The force of his hips bucking against you had him staggering forward, placing his hands on the desk at your sides to hold himself up, all the while he kept his eyes on you. Swimming with what seemed a mix of repletion and yet also a burning desire for more.

Neither of you moved as you fought to catch your breath, his forehead resting against yours as you both had looks of evident satiety on your faces.

"Please tell me you live near here," he breathed out, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

"A few blocks away but it's a quick enough walk," you answered immediately, your smile growing bigger, anticipating what ever his next words could be.

You let out a faint whimper as you felt him withdraw from you, placing a hand underneath you to pull you up to your feet. "Because, my darling girl, I very much want you again." He pulled you flush against him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth at the sound you made when you felt his once again hardening member pressing against your stomach. "Only this time on a bed. And naked."

A/N: That's a wrap for the lusty vicar for this collection! I can't believe we're finally here but there's only two days left in this project and really all that's left on my end is…two Loki stories 😳🫡

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress

[five-miles-over]

Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Would Propose (To You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Prince Loki Odinson, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, James Conrad, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Also, my sincerest apologies - they all turned into mini-fics.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Reverend Will would propose to you after a Sunday roast dinner, after your family invited him to your home. You were helping to clear the table with the rest of the ladies in your family when Will coughed to announce his presence. At once, everyone cleared the dining room, leaving you alone with the vicar.

"A word please?" He politely called you by name, his hands clasped in front of him. Will sat you down in one of the empty chairs. Gods how he wanted to reach out and tuck one of your stray hairs behind your ear in that very moment, one of the intimate things that he longed to do with you. Intimate things that would be proper in the eyes of God if you were his lawfully wedded wife. He did not sit down, and gently began talking to you. "For some time, I have been charmed by you. Not just your looks, that is not to say that you are not a lovely woman. You are most lovely, but I have also been charmed by your kindness, your humility, and your…virtue."

Will knelt before you, looking up with the most earnest gaze. "If you will bestow upon me the fortune of being your husband, then in return I shall do everything to keep you safe and comfortable.  I shall speak to your father, and we will be wedded in holy matrimony. You and I shall walk together upon this path of life, and I have no doubt that a virtuous woman like you will aid me in carrying out what the Lord decrees of us. My sweetest, please say that you will marry me."

Henry V from The Hollow Crown

With Henry, there was not much of a proposal to begin with. The marriage between you and the King of England was arranged by your father and his men, along with the king and his men. Still, Henry coaxed your father into having at least one private audience with you before the wedding ceremonies, so that he may properly court you as any suitor would. 

'My dearest lady," Henry began as soon as he was alone with you in his study while your father and his men stood vigil outside. "Lower thy veil, and let me behold your face." He reached forward and removed the hood of your cloak, smiling as he beheld your beauty for the first time. "Cheeks rosier than the flowers that bloom in springtime. Your lips and eyes are so enticing, they call to me like sirens. Yours is a face that I shall never tire of seeing.

I confess to you, my lady, that words are not my greatest strength. Were it so easy that I could simply strap on armor or fire an arrow into a target or vault into my saddle for a wife, I should quickly vault for a wife. Alas, tis not so. For a woman's heart is truly one of the most difficult conquests to embark upon. Nevertheless, tis a conquest that I shall duly pursue if you can deign to love me.

If you can love such a man as me, someone whose words are not their strongest suit and someone whose fidelity to you is true, then take me. Take a soldier, and in taking a soldier, you will take a king." Henry knelt before you and offered you his hand. "Sweetest of all maidens, canst thou love me?"

Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard

"I have called you to discuss a matter of great importance, my lady." Loki enunciated the formal title at the end in an attempt to conceal the butterflies in his stomach. He summoned you to the palace gardens at the house before twilight, when the sky would be decorated with streaks of orange and pink. You walked alongside him through the bushes and the groves of flowers. Loki clasped his hands behind her back, walking as if he ruled every inch of earth on which he stepped. 

He continued, "Yes, tis true that Thor, my brother, is the one whom my father has decreed to ascend the throne of Asgard," The younger prince of Asgard looked forward with a solemn expression while you listened with intrigue. "But he is incompetent." Loki turned to you. "He is idiotic and brash. You know as well as I do that he does not encompass the values of a king.

"Was he not the one who wished to invade Jotunheim alone, my prince?" You stopped in your tracks, just as the sun began setting into the horizon behind you.

"Yes, he was. It was all his idea, my lady." Loki did not bother to include his role in instigating Thor, it would not help him in this moment whatsoever. If he delayed this moment any further, he was convinced the words would be stuck in his throat, forever unable to escape. "You are one of the few people with whom I can share these thoughts, my lady." He sighed, his gaze fixated upon you and your beauty. "It is why I have called you here. In the coming future, I will need to protect Asgard from my brother's foolishness. And for that I should like to have a worthy companion by my side."

Loki conjured a shining dagger with a gold hilt out of thin air and promptly fell to one knee before you. The hilt of the dagger was engraved with the words, 'Min hærr, duonningen av mitt hjerte' (My beloved, Queen of my heart) Still on bended knee, Loki looked up at you with an expression of innocence that you never knew existed within him - wide eyes, baited breath, a meek expression. As if all his life were being wagered on a single thing right now. 

"I wish to make you my wife," Loki declared, his lips trembling. "Should you accept, I will bring my proposal to your family, and then we will be wed with due ceremony. And if you decide otherwise, then I shall…" he swallowed, "I shall respect your choice."

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

"This looks like something stolen from the Graham Norton Show." You raised an eyebrow when Loki handed you an orange and purple card.

"It's a scavenger hunt." Loki said with a twinkle in his eye. "Every clue leads you to the next one."

"I know how a scavenger hunt works, Loki." You rolled your eyes and flipped over the card. "Was this your idea, or is this some ridiculous team-bonding activity put together by Steve Rogers?"

"No. You see,…I have some errands to do, but at the same time, I have an obligatory excursion with the Lady Valkyrie."

You crossed your arms. "So why the scavenger hunt?"

Loki brightly answered. "Well, it makes the errands all the more fun!"

"Alright, but you owe me, Loki." 

"Good girl." The God of Mischief kissed you not the cheek and disappeared into thin air.

You glanced down and saw that the first card, which told you to pick up six cupcakes ordered under Loki's name. The cupcakes were from a specific café….that just so happened to be the place where you and Loki had your first date, which was set up by a far-too-enthusiastic Thor. The moment you got there, a waiter brought you a "complimentary" cupcake of your favorite flavor…along with another orange and purple card. 

The second card took you to the library, on the pretext of picking up a book that was on hold for Loki. There, the librarian handed you the book - Divine Comedy by Dante - and another book that you recognized. It was Pride and Prejudice, one of the first pieces of "Midgardian literature" that you introduced to Loki, a book that you were all too happy to fangirl over. But inside the book was - yes- another orange and purple card. 

The third card sent you to pick up Loki's dry-cleaning. (Really, Loki? Dry cleaning?) At the dry-cleaners, the person at the register handed you a transparent garment bag containing a black tuxedo with a ruffled white shirt. And then you were given a second garment bag with an emerald green gown embellished with diamonds. You couldn't help but stare a few moments at the pretty, expensive-looking gown. Before the person at the register could hand you another card, you made a mental note to ask Loki about the gown and whom it was for. You guessed it was probably for himself for the times he was feeling fabulous. Actually, Loki also liked to wear absolutely nothing when he was feeling his most fabulous…but that didn't matter right now.

The fourth card took you to the park where Loki confessed his love for you for the first time, on the pretext of picking up Loki's forgotten jacket and buying a bouquet of white flowers.

The fifth card took you across the city just to get a particular bottle of liquor that Loki had liked. Okay, now this guy was having a little too much fun with you right now. 

You were relieved when the sixth card, given to you by the liquor store clerk, led you back to the Avengers compound, to the same room where you began this entire scavenger hunt. You huffed a little, setting the box of cupcakes, the books, the two garment bags, Loki's jacket, the flowers, and liquor gently on a table. "Loki? Loki, where are you?"

Loki stood in the middle of the Avengers' common room, wearing polished gold armor over a black and green leather tunic with long, dark trousers. His hair was combed perfectly in place, and his hands clasped behind his back. He stood surrounded by a few candles and fairy lights hanging against the curtains.

"Okay, I need answers…" You sighed, already tired from running around all afternoon. "Loki, I got your things, just tell me what the gown is for and the…the liquor and the…Are you throwing a party or something?"

"I'm getting married."

"What?!" You gulped, reaching for the nearest couch. "I…what? You're getting married, why didn't you tell me? And…" You felt your head start to spin, preparing yourself for the worst. Whatever happened to all the times he said he loved you? Was he just using you to put together some kind of romantic gesture for someone else, just a tool?! Perhaps this is what you get for letting the God of Mischief into your life. Betrayal. "Well, I hope they make you happy, Loki." You relented, putting your head in your hands.

"She does." 

"Good." You murmured, trying your best not to cry in this moment. That was the last thing you wanted him to see. "Is that gown for her too?"

"Hm-hm. Of course, it'll probably end up on the floor after the engagement party, hehe."

"Loki, I am in no mood for your jokes right now." After a few moments, you looked up. 

"Come on,…have a sense of humor."

"NO!" You yelled, getting up from the couch. "No, I will not have a sense of humor right now! You used me! You used me, and lied to me. You told me to do all of these errands, like picking up dry cleaning, and buying liquor, without telling me that you were going to propose to someone else! You could have at least told me, just so I'd have some kind of closure. But no, you couldn't even think to do that. You told me it was a scavenger hunt, like I wasn't worth knowing the truth.

I...I did this because I care about you, Loki! I care about you like some kind of idiot who actually thought that you might like me the same way that I liked you. That right there, making me like you might just be the worst thing you have ever done me." You took a moment to breathe, and ran your hands through your hair. 

"Ugh…And you made me even pick up her engagement dress! What kind of person makes someone do that?!" You couldn't even think about the words you were spitting out, too busy with the hot tears clouding your vision. 

"The kind of person who knows how good it'll look when you wear it."

"What?!" You were taken aback all of a sudden. 

Loki approached you with a hint of nervousness. "Darling, you are one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I know I'm not easy to be with, that I drive you mad sometimes, and I make you put up with a lot. I...I should've practiced this more." He laughed under his breath. "Why didn't I?" Blinking, he pushed his hair back before continuing. 

"What I'm trying to say is,...my life has never been the same since I met you. You're the most steadfast ally, a wonderful friend, and best of all, you are the most passionate and loyal person I have ever known. I could never imagine my life without you, and I never want to. That's how much I love you."

The God of Mischief fell to one knee, and held up a small emerald ring with a gold band.

"Will you marry me?"

Bil Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

"Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise, sweetheart." Bill pulled his father's car into a driveway, and took your hand. "Just close your eyes, alright?"

"Alright…" After a few steps, you could hear Bill opening a door and the sound of a shopkeeper's bell, along with the muted conversations of various patrons. The scents of vanilla and grease reached you almost immediately. 

Bill held you close and whispered that you could open your eyes now.

When you opened your eyes, you laughed a little. "We haven't been here in a while…"

"You remember it?"

"How could I ever forget?" You kissed him on the cheek, and let him find a table for you. 

Bill's proposal began with him taking you to the milkshake diner where the two of you had your first date. After a bit of small talk over a banana split, Bill not-so-discretely excused himself. While you sat at the table with your spoon and checked your phone, Bill made his way to the jukebox with his hands in his jeans' pockets, feeling the small box inside. He'd almost thought about wearing a suit for this occasion, but his mum said it would make you suspicious. And his father suggested hiding the ring inside your ice cream to be more romantic , but Bill was terrified by the idea of you accidentally choking. Yes, keeping the ring with him was a better idea.

Bill took a deep breath and slipped a coin into the jukebox, flipping through the various tracks to find one of the songs you enjoyed. When he found one, he pressed play and called your name. Bill extended his hand out, offering to dance with you. He twirled you, and the two of you swayed in time with the music, smiling all the while. At the end of the song, Bill proudly kissed you on the lips.

He gently said your name, and pushed a bit of hair out of your face. "You're the one I want to dance with to every song…There's just no one like you, no one I could ever dream of that's just as wonderful as you are." Bill reached in his pocket for the small box, and fell to one knee, not caring who might be watching you in the diner. Inside the small box was a 0.3-carat diamond ring with a silver band. "Would you make me the happiest man in the whole world, and marry me?"

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Coriolanus invited your family to dine with him and his mother one night on the pretext of an important matter concerning two important families of Roman nobility. It was not the first time he'd done such a thing, inviting your family to break bread with him and his mother. He had even visited your father's home before, sharing wine with your father and your brothers from time to time. It was through those meetings that Coriolanus fell more in love with your smile, the way you bit your lip when you were thinking,…and even the way your laugh infected him like a plague. And if there was anything more deadly to him than your simple, unadulterated laughter, then it was your beauty which had him fighting the urge to smile whenever you walked into a room or whenever he heard your voice.

But despite his best efforts, it became quickly aware to everyone in your family how besotted the general was with you. The way his head unintentionally bowed whenever he was in your presence, as if you were the sun and he would go blind if he looked you straight in the eye, never went unnoticed. The fact that you were the only person who could make him laugh, and that the simple mention of your name was enough to make the powerful General and conqueror of Corioles lower his usual barking voice made your family - and anyone else in the general's presence - giggle under their breath.

So when everyone had finished the prima mensa, Coriolanus stood up and raised his cup. "I have called you here tonight, to make a proposition," he declares with the same voice that he would use to speak to the Senate. "An alliance between our families…" The general turned his gaze to you for a moment, and exhaled to calm his racing heart, which only quickened when you looked back up at him. "If you will bestow upon me this honor, I wish to make your daughter…my wife. She is virtuous, and kind,…endowed with a noble background."

He waved for two of the servants of his household to present your mother and father with gifts of imported silk and valuable coins. And for you, the general had his servant gift place a set of golden jewelry - a girdle, five bracelets, and a layered necklace with rubies - in your lap. Underneath the girdle was a small piece of parchment with the words,

"I long to see you wearing these on our wedding night, my lady. Only these."

You turned red, and looked up and the general, politely expressing your thanks. 

"Should you accept," Coriolanus gave you a nod and turned to your family. "We shall make our alliance official in the presence of the gods. Your daughter shall be my wife, and I her husband. I will defend her from harm and protect her, as I have defended Rome time and time again. Your daughter will be cared for, and all I ask for in return, is your fidelity. Pledge to me your allegiance, for I shall need your influence when the time comes for the elections in the Senate.

Instead of a dowry give me your loyalty, and I swear that your priceless gem of a daughter will want for nothing for as long as I live. Do I have your word?"

Oakley from Unrelated

"Let's get married." Oakley off-handedly said while the two of you stood outside, leaning against the wall while he smoked a cigarette. 

You raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding?"

"No." He took another drag of his cigarette and turned to you with his ocean blue eyes and tousled, dirty blond curls. "We should get married."

"Who are you and what have you done with Oakley?" 

"What, you don't think I'm good enough to marry you?" He protested. 

Shaking your head, you laughed. "No, it's not that…"

"Well, then what is it?" Oakley crossed his arms and furrowed his brow at the sight of you laughing. "We have fun together, we make each other laugh,…we look good together, especially when naked-"

That was enough for you to playfully hit him on the shoulder, causing him to chuckle. He continued, "We like each other. We have this great relationship."

"But are you sure this is what you want?" You asked. "Don't you want to explore, try things? Do stuff before you're tied down?"

"Why would I do that? When there's this…beautiful, funny, smart, and sexy girl right there with me, I'm not even looking at anyone else." Oakley simply countered. "I like what we have, and i don't want to let it go. We can travel, explore the world, and I'll do it all with you." There was no sign of hesitation in his voice, but maybe it was just the cigarette fueling his courage. He came closer to you, and looked dead serious. "I don't want what we have to be just something we try for as long as we can, something we leave up to chance. I want forever with you."

"Forever?"

"Forever." Oakley knelt before you, his eyes going from a vivid cyan to a soft, almost pale bag blue. "I don't have a ring but…" He removed his necklace and presented it to you like an offering at an altar, calling your name. "Marry me."

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan had been working with MI-6 for almost two years, embarking on various mission for them after he gained acclamation for helping to carry out Operation Limpet. He, along with officer Angela Burr, took down the infamous arms dealer Richard Roper once and for all.

Since then, Jonathan found himself a new home in London and got back in touch with you, the one who stole his heart back when he was still working as a night manager. He didn't know how much he truly missed you until you answered his letter, telling him about the twists and turns your life had taken since your last encounter with Pine. After about three weeks of exchanging handwritten letters - simply because they reminded you both of a simpler time and felt more personal - with Jonathan using a pseudonym to protect you, he invited you to visit London for a holiday. 

And those five days you spent in London were some of the best five days of Jonathan's life. He delighted in your innocence, the way you happily took his arm and strolled through the city, randomly surprising him with kisses. Arm in arm, without a care in the world except for each other, enjoying all that life would have to offer…This is how it should be, Jonathan thought to himself as he gazed at the sparkle in your eyes, the color in your cheeks. He listened as you talked about everything you liked about London, everything that disgusted you, and everything you hoped for in the future, simply taking in the opportunity to just be with you. 

After a few moments, you asked him about what he wanted in the future, and all Jonathan had to say was one word.

"You."

You looked up from your cup of tea. "Me?"

He took a breath. "Yes." Jonathan affectionately said your name, and reached for your hand. "I never grew up in a house with both parents, doting on me." He told you about how his life up until joining MI-6 was an abominable quest for order. How his time in the military and working in the hotel business was part of an aim to find a direction in his life, and how little happiness it truly brought him. How alone he felt whenever his life wasn't being threatened. 

Jonathan sighed, not used to telling so much about himself in a single conversation, laying his heart out on the table to be cut into and devoured. "I promised myself that I would find the one person that I could care deeply for, and love them. I promised myself that I would make friends, find a home…a place to belong. Maybe someday become a parent."

You looked upon him lovingly. "That's beautiful, Jonathan."

He raised your hand to his lips and kissed it. "I want all of those things, and I want them with you." Jonathan declared, quiet enough for the two of you to hear. "These past days with you have been…incredible. When I look at you, I see everything that I have wanted, the life that I want to be living five years from now, ten years from now." 

He continued, "You make me believe in a future that's worth building. The way you smile…, the way you look upon me and everyone with stars in your eyes…I want to be the one who keeps that smile on your face, the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one who kisses you good night, and the first one you see in the morning. I want to be the one you come home to every evening, the shoulder you lean on." 

Jonathan stroked the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. "I know it's soon, but if there is anything that I've learned, it's that when you see something worth keeping in your life, you do everything you can not to let her go. You just do it." He looked into your eyes. "Marry me?"

James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island

It was the third time this week James had a nightmare. After thrashing and groaning, fighting an invisible beast, James found it in himself to call you - his neighbor whom he'd been dating for two years - on the telephone. His forehead and his chest were dripping with sweat, his expression one of agony, when you approached his bed. It was obvious that he had been in a lot of pain. 

James wasn't the type of person who wanted to expound upon the terrors he was feeling; he was a man of action who preferred expressing his emotions nonverbally. So, you respected that and simply talked about mundane things, things about civilian life that would temporarily distract James. As you both fell asleep, you made a mental note to remind James setting another appointment with his therapist, the one MONARCH had prescribed for him.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn't unusual for James to go out on an early morning walk to be alone with his thoughts. It was one of the things he'd learned from his therapist when he asked about how to be a better sweetheart to you while recovering from his trauma. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with a heavy heart, hoping it wouldn't be too long before you saw James again. 

While you styled your hair, you heard the door unlock. James walked inside, carrying a bag of breakfast pastries. "Good morning." He greeted you in a low, casual voice. 

"Good morning…" You would've asked if he slept well, but given the events of last night, that question made no sense. "I'm sorry I stayed over."

"No need to apologize." James set the pastries down and placed a kettle on the stove. While the water rose to a boil, James unwrapped the two chocolate croissants he bought, and glanced up to find you standing in the kitchen. You walked up to him slowly, and without missing a beat, James gently kissed you with an arm gently holding your waist. He murmured your name again, his breath warm against your lips. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." 

James gave you a chaste kiss on your forehead before going into his bedroom. "I brought breakfast for us both. Should I make us some eggs?"

"No need…" You watched James open one of his drawers. "Before I forget, do you want to make an appointment with your therapist?"

"Uh, I will." James returned to the kitchen with a small box in his right hand. "Thanks for reminding me."

"What is that?"

James took a deep breath. "Just something to thank you for last night,…and for everything you've done."

"James, you really didn't have to-"

"No. I've been wanting to do this for a year, it's time." 

Your breath caught in your throat as James opened the box to reveal a small, simple sapphire ring. He began, "I should've done this sooner, and I'm a fool for not doing so." James fell to one knee, and you gasped. "Darling,…Over the years I've known you, you have helped me…become a man again. You've remained by my side as I've made attempts to return to civilian life. You've comforted me during my worst hours, and you have given me something worth living for."

"James…"

"You're someone worth fighting for." He laughs a little. "I love you. And if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you feel loved and caring for you in the ways that you have cared for me.

Darling, will you marry me?"

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

"Marry me." Magnus groaned with relief when you brought him a plate of eggs, some coffee, and an aspirin. He was laying on your couch, hungover after a night out with you and some of his mates from the police station.

You simply rolled your eyes and laughed a little. "Eat your eggs, you'll feel better with some food inside you."

Magnus kept his eyes on you while you both drank coffee, his headache slowly diminishing. "That a yes?"

"No, Magnus." You flatly said. "You had a lot to drink last night. Just…eat your eggs and finish your coffee. I'm not saying yes to a guy that passed out on my couch after throwing up into the bushes outside."

He grimaced. "I did that?…Sorry." Magnus looked down and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Whatever, it was just a question, not like I meant it or anything." He pretended to brush off the matter. "You doing anything else today?"

"Tidying the house. You?"

Magnus closed his eyes for a moment to taste the savory flavor of the eggs. "i have a few things to do at the station for Kurt. Won't take long."

You and Magnus finished breakfast in silence before Magnus thanked you for letting him crash on your couch. "I'll see you soon." He said, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You almost found it funny, the way he groaned for you to marry him, and chuckled to yourself. For all of his sarcastic quips and his cold exterior, there were times Magnus was an unintentional sweetheart. You'd known him for about seven months, how endearing he was whenever he tried to show off at darts or pool. You thought about the time he brought you soup every night when you had a flu that lasted for a week. And during that one time he showed up late to one of your date nights because of a case, he spent the rest of the evening simply snuggling with you until you fell asleep in each others' arms. It was one of the first times you'd ever seen him smiling so blissfully like a newborn baby.

About a few hours later, you could hear it rain outside, a bolt of thunder rumbling across the sky. While caught up in some trashy television, you heard a knock on the door. 

There was Magnus, standing outside drenched from head to toe. 

"Magnus, what are you-"

"I meant it." He confessed while the raindrops rolled down the sides of his face. "Marry me." He repeated when you asked him what he was talking about. Magnus reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small gold ring with three tiny diamonds. "You're the most perfect person in this entire world. And it's not just because you make the best eggs." He said, making you laugh. "You're stunning, even when you've just woken up. You put up with a lot, and…I can't really say what it is you do to me, but I can't help it. I…I…"

"I love you too, you crazy detective!" You finished.

"So, is that a yes?" Magnus asked again, with a big grin on his face as he presented the ring to you. 

Robert Laing from High-Rise

"We need to talk." Robert broke the silence while the two of you shared a candlelit dinner in your flat. 

All traces of a smile disappeared from your face instantly. Usually nothing good ever followed those four words. 

You put your fork down. "What did you want to talk about?"

Robert looked you in the eye. "I moved to this high-rise to be alone, to be away from people. This…a relationship was the last thing that I wanted." He blinked, looking down at his plate for a moment. Then, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. 

You tensed in your seat, preparing for the worst. God, Robert. If he was trying to break up with you, then he just picked the worst time possible. 

The doctor stood up. "I thought I wasn't built for love…So I tried to be alone as much as I could, avoiding every chance to be attached to someone." He swallowed. "And then you came."

You let out a sigh, assuming that Robert was going to say something awful about your relationship. 

"It was like I couldn't even recognize myself anymore. What you did to me…" Robert called your name and walked over to you. "I cannot go a day without hearing your quippy words…, without seeing you when I come home,…without kissing you. It's more than anything I have felt in years." He confessed, his fingers tracing the back of your chair. "If you were to disappear from my life, it would feel like losing everything I've ever known. And…truthfully, the idea of that terrifies me. Maybe I could live without you,…but I don't know if I would be able to call it living.

"So what are you trying to say?" You murmured.

Robert sighed. "Forgive me, I'm not used to having these conversations."

"It's okay."

"You did it again." The doctor remarked. "You're making me fall in love with you, sweetheart." Robert went to the coat closet where he kept his blazer, and pulled a small box from one of the pockets. He returned to your side. "What I'm trying to say is,…that I'm in love with you. I'm in love not only with you, but with the way that you make me…feel things. The way that you remind me that there's a future ahead of us both. A future that can be much more than just dreary parties and squabbles between the upper floors and lower floors. You make me very happy, darling, and I think that you should know that." 

Robert took a deep breath and fell to one knee, next to your chair with the box opened to reveal a silver ring with a diamond heart. "Would you marry me, and make me an even happier man?"

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

You were sitting on the swing set in the garden of your family estate, enjoying the mid-morning sun and the gentle breeze. Idly moving your legs back and forth, you played with a small cluster of Baby's Breath in your lap. It was nice to be away from the bustling drama and the incessant gossip, and instead be surrounded by fresh air. 

"My lady." You were awoken from your reverie by a smooth, vaguely familiar baritone that belonged to none other than Thomas Sharpe. He was a guest who'd been staying at an inn near your family's home, having joined your family for supper at least ten times in the past two weeks. In your eyes, he seemed mysterious and yet full of stories to tell, always having an anecdote about a place he'd visited or a trick to show you and your siblings. There was something about him that made you drawn to him as soon as he walked into a room, you were unable to articulate what it was. 

"Good morning. What brings you here, Baronet?" 

The baronet gave you a smile, and leaned against a tree, watching you enjoy yourself on the swings. "I was speaking to your father and his, erm, associates about a business venture."

"About clay, right? Mining it?"

Thomas nodded. "Precisely, my lady. And you, have you been enjoying your morning?"

You blushed as he took a step closer. "Yes, Baronet."

"No need for such formal titles now, my lady. We're not at a ball, nor are we at supper. ''Thomas' will do." He gently said. "May I share your company for a while, my lady, if it would not be much of a bother for you?"

You allowed him, giving the Baby's Breath to him as a token of affection. No, not a token of affection. Simply a nice gesture that would hopefully give you a place in Thomas's good books. Maybe he might even ask you for a dance at the next ball.

"Will you be attending the ball this Saturday, Bar- I mean, Thomas?"

He nodded, taking a moment to smell the flowers. "You?"

"I will." 

"And have you chosen a gown, my lady?" Thomas decided to humor you a little. He smiled while you sheepishly described the dress that you had your eye on for that special occasion. "Well, I'm sure you will look divine wearing it, my lady. Do you often spend time here in the gardens, all by yourself."

"Yes. I enjoy the flowers, and the breeze. It's beautiful when the weather is pleasant."

"I can imagine, my lady. It's been a long time since I have relaxed in a garden." Thomas places the Baby's breath in his front pocket. "My lady, there is something I wish to know of you."

You stopped swinging, and asked him what it was.

"I would like to know if you would be interested in marrying me." Thomas knelt by your side, looking up at you with eyes that bore the same hue as a cloudless sky. "For some time, my lady, I have admired your numerous charms from afar. And with each passing day, my affections for you have grown stronger. I find myself thinking about you at the most unpropitious times of day." He sighs, "While I may not be a man of great fame or great brawn or of great wealth, I am a man of dignity." Thomas promised you, despite knowing it was a blatant lie. "I will make sure that you lack nothing as my wife. And to treat you with nothing but the compassion and the love that you deserve. All I ask in return, is that you try to find it in your heart to give me even an iota of your affections.

Would you be willing to do that, my lady?"

Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Ever since you moved into the flat Mr. Hiddleston bought for you, the most powerful man in London always had a designated town car sent to pick you up from work or school every day. His favorite chauffeur would show up at the same time every weekday, give you a friendly greeting, and drop you off at your flat. And once you got there, you'd be greeted by a doorman that Mr. Hiddleston personally hired to make sure that you reached safely.

Today, however, the chauffeur did not drop you off at your flat. At least, not right away. "Monsieur Hiddleston had something different in mind for today," he said with a small grin, like he knew something was going on. The chauffeur dropped you off at the nail salon for a manicure paid for by your powerful beau. 

After being pampered by the nail technician for about forty-five minutes, you returned to the town car to find a bag in the backseat with the word 'Harrods' on it. "You went shopping?" You asked the chauffeur while he drove you to your flat.

"Non, it was all Monsieur Hiddleston. He was keeping this dress on hold, and asked me to pick it up for you. He would like you to wear it tonight."

You thanked the chauffeur with a smile. Inside the bag was a beautiful Carolina Herrera gown in your favorite color. And right on cue, your phone buzzed with a text from your beau, asking if you liked his gift. As always, you texted back saying that it was perfect. 

The chauffeur dropped you off at your flat, and asked you to be ready by seven-thirty…but not before taking a good look at your manicured nails and saying an early 'congratulations'.

"Gordon owes me a favor," Mr. Hiddleston bragged a little when he arrived in front of your building at seven-thirty sharp. He opened the door of his favorite black Jaguar, and helped you inside the front passenger seat. "You look stunning tonight, darling."

"You look amazing too," you couldn't help but say. It was the truth after all. "When you said Gordon, did you mean…?"

"We're going to the River Restaurant in the Savoy Hotel, darling." He kept one hand on the steering wheel, placing the other one on your knee. "Hungry?"

"Nervous," you sheepishly said.

"I'm here, nothing can harm you." He turned his eyes to the road. "Your fears are far behind you."

The moment you arrived, the host of the restaurant immediately led you both to one of the outdoor terraces, where there was a table for two set up. Mr. Hiddleston pulled the chair for you before sitting down, and a waiter poured both of you some Dom Pérignon. 

"This is beautiful." You gushed, watching the most powerful man in London raise an invisible toast. You clinked your glass against his. 

 He replied with a dramatic flair.  "Nothing compared to you."

"So…what did you to get this favor?" You leaned in and asked him while the waiter placed a charcuterie board for the two of you to share. "This is a seafood place, charcuterie isn't on the menu."

A twinkle in his cerulean eyes, Mr, Hiddleston fed you a piece of cheese. "That's confidential, darling. Just enjoy the night."

"I will."

The two of you made small talk about your day, and about Mr. Hiddleston's upcoming business trip to Paris. You would be going with him of course, Mr. Hiddleston would make sure of that. The waiter refilled your champagne, and your beau discretely gave him a twenty-pound note, whispering that it was time for the main course.

The waiter took about fifteen minutes to bring your elegantly-arranged entrees out onto the terrace. And as he came out, you could hear an orchestra from inside the hotel begin to play "All I Ask of You" from Phantom of the Opera.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mr. Hiddleston leaned forward with a smirk as he noticed you listening to the music.

You admitted this was one of the songs you enjoyed, and said it reminded you of the first time you'd ever heard of the musical. How much you wanted to be Christine in that moment, serenaded with the promise of a life with no more darkness.

"Well there's one more thing I have for you tonight, darling." With a smirk, Mr. Hiddleston reached into the pocket of his blazer, retrieving a small box labeled 'Harry Winston'. He slowly got out of his chair and made his way towards you. 

You gasped, covering your mouth almost immediately. You swore you could feel your heart stop just for a moment when his eyes met yours. It all made sense now: the manicure, the accidental 'congratulations', the gown,…

 "Oh my god…"

Mr. Hiddleston fell to one knee and opened the box, which contained a 1-carat diamond ring with a platinum band. "Love me. It's all I ask of you."

Tag list: @thatdummy-girl @icytrickster17  @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl  , @lokisninerealms  @jennyggggrrr  ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines  , @lokiismineforever  @smolvenger  @winterfrostlovetriangle  , @the-haven-of-fiction  , @turniptitaness   @cakesandtom  ,@sallymagnoliaposts  @leahs-reading-nook  @holdmytesseract  @muddyorbsblr @evelyn-kingsley @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen

[loki-is-my-kink-awakening]

Fic writer questions

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

98

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

301,713

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Witcher, Loki, Stranger Things, Our Flag Means Death and Midnight Mass.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Praying for salvation (Midnight Mass)

Bring your hunger (The Witcher)

From past experiences (Loki)

Preparing for a new arrival (Loki)

Fighting to get to you (The Witcher)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do, but I am behind on my comments at the moment. If you've left me one, I will get to it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

There's a few that I intended to be solely hurt/no comfort and then I said yes to requests to find a happy ending, lmao. But I haven't written those happy endings yet, so they are currently unhappy endings for:

What He Deserves

A New Life

The Words I Could Not Say.

The last one is an upcoming Lokius fic and is probably the angstiest, but again, it will have a happier ending when I write a second chapter.

There's also a fic I dropped under a pseudonym because it's darker and I wasn't sure how people would react to it, so I won't be telling you what that one is.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Um, I don't know, I'm gonna say what's freshest on my mind:

What My Heart Just Yearns To Say

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I've had one or two, so very infrequent.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Often. Usually penetrative or oral sex, kinky sex or masturbation, but I want to expand and write different kinds of sex.

I also write non-sexual kink.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven't myself, but I helped @rins-love-wins with a crossover between Loki and The Essex Serpent.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Never.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I'm credited as a co-writer on 15 because I helped with editing, but I've never done co-writing where we come up with the story together.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Lokius is the most enduring for sure.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Are You Jealous? haunts me. I haven't written a follow-up chapter in so long. So, it's currently on the doubtful pile even though I do want to finish it.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Tension, slowing down moments, delving into character emotion.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Crunching myself for deadlines, writing some fics without an outline and then feeling unclear of the direction for the fic, getting distracted from my wips by the new shiny shiny.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I like it. Haven't done it yet, but I like it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Loki was the first fandom I wrote for, but Midnight Mass ended up being my first published fic.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm gonna be cheeky and list a few for different reasons.

Petals In A Storm because it's my first completed multi-chapter fic.

Drown Out All The Sound because I managed to write a twist for the ending and blend my two faves: angst and smut.

In His Space because it's the most sexually tense non-smutty fic I've written.

Tags below the cut

Tagged by @mimisempai ❤️

Tagging 20 writer friends: @abitofboth @bigpeepee @lgwilt @dewdropreader @kuripon @flightsfancy1 @iwillbringyouruin @coffee-and-contemplation1983 @flawney @ptork66 @ikeepwatchinghelicopters @phonoix @typewriterwolf @toapoet @cha-melodius @chaos-monkeyy @karolincki @haeva @mirilyawrites and @dapandapod if you wanna do it.

[likesomekindofcheese]

Hi Guys! I know I discuss my @smolvenger fics here but, with my giant completed series, Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed- should I revise the whole shebang to be from First Person to Third Person?

Initially, I wanted First Person because I wanted to get directly into Stella Ransome's head and her perspective- rather than some narrator telling us about it and her such as in the original source of The Essex Serpent, it is Stella taking control of her own narrative instead of being a passive cosmic punching bag denied the ability to even grieve the infidelity in the original source and her directly telling us, the Reader, what she thinks and feels, so that way her pain and humiliation of being cheated on a husband she loves as well as her whole emotional journey could be felt more directly, from Disposable Spouse with bad luck to Heroine of her own story. (Especially since the books it was partially inspired from- Wide Sargasso Sea, Ahab's Wife or The Star Gazer, Ophelia were all in First Person POV)

But I know Fanfic Readers hate First Person POV. I understand why in regards to X Reader Fanfictions but since this wasn't one I thought I could let it slide and that "it's my fic and I can do what I want"

But...would revising it all to be in Second Person POV make it all the more digestible?

BTW, you can read Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed here on Tumblr and on Archive of Our Own!

[fruityshirtsposts]

9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

Tagged by the wonderful @lolahardy Thank you!

3 Ships You Like: Arthur/Eames (The GOAT) and most other Inception pairings/groupings tbh, Hannigram (Hannibal Lector/Will Grahm), I'm not really reading much fanfic currently, but i do love Stede/Ed from OFMD and have enjoyed some Witcher chaos fam fic.

First Ship Ever: I think the one that pulled me in was Charles/Eric (X-men), but then fell headlong into Inception fandom shortly thereafter.

Last Song You Heard: Various Storms & Saints, Florence + The Machine

Favorite Childhood Book: As much as the Narnia books feel very heavy handed and exasperating now, when I first read them as a child they were life-changing because that was my first introduction to sci-fi/fantasy as like, a genre.

Currently Reading: The Essex Serpent as my new book and Guards! Guards! as my current Prachett Comfort Re-Read.

Currently Watching: YouTube cooks (Babish, Sohla, Brian Lagorstrom, Rick Martinez)

Currently Consuming: Juice (OJ with a splash of Pom)

Currently Craving: Nothing! Currently full of donuts 🍩

Tagging (with no pressure!): @singerin @sweetbutterbliss @ehonauta @sibilantly and anyone else who wants to!

[lokidbadguy]

again, another edits of our lusty vicar, will ransome (tiktok doesn't appreciate this 😭👹)

[liminalpebble]

Violet: Chapter 19, Be Not Afraid

Masterlist link 

Chapter 19: Be Not Afraid

Violetta couldn't breathe. The tears had ceased but her respiration was still halting and shallow against the soft fabric of Will's sweater. Although she hated to relinquish his touch, she stepped back, attempting to gather more air into her stubbornly locked lungs.

He still held her hands and looked into her eyes. “Darling, breathe with me...slowly,” he encouraged her, and she tried to follow his lead.

“I'm...I'm dizzy.”

“It's alright, love...come....come sit down,” he instructed, bringing her to a soft velvet sofa. “Now,” he continued in a soothing, authoritative voice, “do you see the candelabra over there?”

“Uh....yes,” she said, puzzled.

“Count the candles for me.”

“What?”

“Trust me.”

“Umm...uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque, sei...six candles.”

Will beamed at her, nodding, eyes and cheeks lifting with his warm smile. “Good girl,” he praised.

She took a deeper breath and then asked, “What was that?”

“Ah...a new technique I've learned to help people calm themselves. It was quite effective with my parishioners in times of crisis.”

Despite her state, she still smirked, saying in a low voice, “But I suspect you never called them 'good girl'.”

“Eheh...” he chuckled, “No...no I didn't.”

In a moment the levity seeped away, and although they felt more calm, the undercurrent of dread chilled them, like cold stone on bare feet. At that moment, the Ambroses made their way into the library, also looking for Violetta, as Will had. Seeing her distressed state, and Will's concerned face they hurried to her.

“Violet! What the devil? What happened?” Charles exclaimed, as Katherine settled on the other side of the sofa with her to hold her hand.

“It's....uh...” She struggled to speak.

Will took up the slack. “It's rather 'who' happened to her.”

Katherine frowned and spat out, “Garrett?”

They nodded. Katherine hissed, “Oh that awful maggot of a man! Making our Violet cry.”

“Katherine!” Charles exclaimed in utter shock. He'd never heard his wife, in all the years of their marriage, speak so venomously of someone.

“Well it's true, Charles! You've seen it too...how he insults her. What has he done now, love?” She asked.

Violet stilled her breath and told them how Garrett was threatening to slander her into wedding him. (They didn't need to know that there might be a grain of truth in his account, so she kept that part of it decidedly to herself).

Violet began to speak, facing Katherine, and the quiet flat resignation in her voice needled the reverend's heart even more than her tears. “I don't know what do, Katherine. I really don't. Men have tried this kind of thing before and the family knew better, but with Garrett...I'm not so sure. For some incomprehensible reason they think highly of him. He's given me two weeks...and...and I just keep getting rejection letters for graduate programs and internships. God...I guess I better prepare myself for the convent.”

“Come now, child. That's obviously not what you want!” Charles chimed in.

Violetta looked up at to older man, surprised by his understanding of her.

“No...no it isn't.”

“Then it shall not be!” Charles said firmly. “Don't forget that we hold a good deal of sway with the mighty Vesperos as well. We can write on your behalf and dispel all this nonsense.”

“Do...do you think that would work?” Violet said cautiously.

“Why shouldn't it! We've known them a good deal longer.”

Katherine chimed it, “And this nonsense about giving her a two week ultimatum, as if she's a hostage!” She tutted in disgust, and said, “Violet, look at me. As long as you wish to, you have a home here, regardless of your courtship status, or academic plans, or working life. Whatever you choose. This is your home, and I won't hear any more about a lovely young lady like you being locked away in a convent with a bunch tedious religious types...no offense intended, Reverend,” she amended quickly.

Will chuckled heartily. “None taken. That's accurate in many cases.”

“Luckily, not in your case Reverend. Thank you for your kindness,” Violet said.

Charles spoke up. “See, my dear? We told you old Will here is nothing to be afraid of.”

Will smiled to them. “On the contrary...if anything, I was afraid of her. She was so clever in school that it terrified me. Shall we let bygones be bygones, Miss Vespero?” He winked as he said it so only she could see.”

She shook his hand. “With pleasure, Reverend Ransome. I owe a great deal to you for your kindness today.”

Will inclined his head in a chivalrous nod, “I am at your service.”

Charles looked around to the three of them sitting on the couch with an air of satisfaction. “Well my dear girl, it seems you have an army.”

---

At the behest of the Ambroses, Violet did her best to enjoy the rest of the evening and not trouble herself about Garrett. They swore they would send a letter first thing in the morning. Luckily, she was able to spend the rest of the afternoon in the sanctuary of the kitchen, busying her hands and mind with a hearty dinner for the gathered company. Violetta was stirring the sauce as she saw Will's tall frame ducking through the doorway.

“Reverend,” she greeted him with a little smile, wiping her hands on her apron.

Catching sight of Greta out of the corner of his eye, Will played along. “Just 'Will' is fine, Violetta. I've just come to offer a hand. Do you ladies need some help bringing things to the table?”

Greta chimed in in her charming cockney accent, “Awww...see that, Violet! You need to find a man like that who actually wants to help about the house. Do you have a son, Reverend?” she asked.

“Heh,” Will laughed and blushed, “Indeed I do, Miss, two in fact, both happily married and overseas.”

Greta tutted, “Oh well, good for them, but our loss, right Vi?”

“Yeah...” she said absentmindedly. “Uh...well. Let's see...you can taste this sauce. Tell me if it needs anything.”

As she lifted the spoon Will steadied her hand with his own while he sipped. He licked his soft thin lips as his Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow. Then grinning broadly, he declared, “Mmm. That's absolutely splendid! I wouldn't say it needs a thing.”

It took her a moment to speak. “Uhhh...good..good. In that case you can take these dishes to the table and we'll be out with the rest in a moment.”

He nodded politely, making intense eye contact. “My pleasure.”

This man and all of his small charms are going to be the death of me. She thought, smiling to herself with a flicker of joy despite her worry and fatigue.

----

After their supper, the mirthful company stood around playing parlor games. Jo sat at the large piano, hands dancing over the glossy keys with relish. Violet was happy to wash away the unpleasant memories of earlier that day with mulled wine, the sounds of song and laughter, and the glowing compliments on her cooking.

Before long, the group was standing circled around the piano singing Christmas carols. Standing beside her, crooning his in dulcet baritone, Will paused to raise an eyebrow at her. “Don't you enjoy singing, Miss Vespero?”

“Ha. I like to hear it. I refused to do it.”

“What a shame! I can be quite fun, you know.”

She smirked her red lips thinking, I could think of a few things to do with you that are much more fun.

“I'm afraid you can't convert me, Reverend. I won't sing. I am, however, a spectacular dancer,” she teased, then sipped at her punch.

“Really?” he said, with a wide grin, “That, I would love to see.”

“See? Wouldn't you dance with me?”

He got lost in the depth of her eyes for a moment as he turned to her, saying shyly, “I'm afraid I don't know the steps.”

“Well, for once, I could be the teacher.” She put forth the offer, laden with sly mischief.

“I would be an honored and obedient student,” he replied, holding her gaze.

When the carols ended, they turned their attention to where the others were pointing up and then chuckling and exchanging kisses.

Violetta looked up, seeking the source of the reaction. “What's going on?”

“Oh! Well...those sprigs hanging from the ceiling are mistletoe. It's tradition here to exchange a kiss if you find yourself standing with someone beneath it.”

At that moment they both looked up, a dawning realization flushing both of their faces. As the pointing and coaxing to kiss continued around the circle, Charles pointed to the two of them. “Ah, Will and Violet! Your turn!”

They both hesitated, regarding the smiling, flushed, tipsy faces turned to them expectantly.

“Uh, forgive me Charles, but isn't it a bit unseemly to kiss a priest.”

The gathered company chuckled at her observation.

Charles answered, “Oh dear girl, we're protestants. We're a bit more relaxed about that sort of thing.”

Will turned to her smirking, “...and it's 'reverend', Violetta, not 'priest'. How many times must I tell you?”

The gathered company started clapping and chanting “kiss, kiss, kiss!” until the two finally relented and pecked each other lightly and reluctantly on the cheek.

“There. That wasn't so bad, was it?” Charles asked with a chuckle as the revelry continued.

 -----

Violetta made her way to her rooms through the sleeping mansion, as usual, the last to bed in the evening. She liked the quiet of the night, but the hustle and shock of the day had worn her out too much to stay up for long. As she settled into her nightgown and her sheets she heard a nearly imperceptible knock and opened the door curiously.

Will swung in gracefully, taking care to quietly close the door behind him, before holding her close, kissing her delicious lips and freshly washed face and neck, tasting her sweet, clean skin.

“Will!” she gasped out in a whisper. “Are you mad? There's a house full of people!”

He met her eyes, earnest and solicitous, and spoke softly. “I know, darling. I just had to hold you. I had to make sure you're alright, and one silly peck under the mistletoe was certainly not enough. Let me hold you, just for a little while, please Bella” he implored, enclosing her in the secure ring of his arms.

Taglist: @coldnique @muddyorbs @goblingirlsarah @acidcasualties @jennyggggrrr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @icytrickster17 @pati52 @marcotheflychair @ladyofthestayingpower @gigglingtiggerv2 @alexakeyloveloki @letsg00000honey @bitchyexpertprincess @sweetsigyn  @talklokitome @dragonmurray @peaches1958

[smolvenger]

Hiya there!

I have two series- one long and the other just a shorter multi-chapter Loki fics.

The first one is A Court of Mischief and Purpose which reimagines the events of A Court of Thorns and Roses series with Reader as Feyre, Loki as Rhysand and the other Hiddles characters as the ACOTAR characters, which can totally be enjoyed without knowing the ACOTAR context. Reader is on the verge of death and she agrees to let Loki heal her if she lives with him. It includes a big epic journey to fight a villain and find love complete with world hopping and magic powers and found family goodness. And a smut scene or two. It can be found on Tumblr and Archive of Our Own.

The other that involves Loki is The Boat in The Water: A Beauty and the Beast Story which involves our boy Loki as the Beast character and Stella Ransome from The Essex Serpent as the Beauty/Belle character. He whisks her away to an enchanted palace to be healed, they discuss her husband's infidelity and eventually Loki's feelings of isolation and jealousy from being a Frost Giant and eventually fall in love. Again- Tumblr and Archive of Our Own

Who's currently writing Loki fanfic?

I'd like to know who's currently active writing Loki fanfic here. If you are, please reblog and let us know:

Which version(s) of Loki you write for (e.g. OG Loki, Ragnarok Loki, series Loki etc)

Where we can find your work

And maybe a little about what sort of fic you write.

Thank you! 💚

[smolvenger]

The Boat in the Water: A Beauty and the Beast Story (Loki x Stella Ransome, An MCU/The Essex Serpent Crossover Multi-Part) Chapter Four

Summary: Having lost her health and her husband's fidelity and love, Stella has nothing more to lose than her life. Then...she is swept away to another realm, to an enchanted castle. A castle whose master is a god...a god with a striking resemblance to her husband.

Chapter Word Count: 5K

Chapter Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth, loss of a child, cheating (I play the Will/Cora affair in a negative light, and if that doesn't sound like your cup of tea, this isn't the fic for you), a bit of violence. If I miss something, please alert me so I can add onto it. A cliffhanger bc I choose violence. Some thirst, but no actual smut

Chapter Word Count: 7K (get water and snacks)

A/N: If someone knows or has immediate access or recalls if the Essex Serpent canonically mentions how the two children of Stella and Will died and I got it wrong, please let me know. I just had to guess. Thank you!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @anukulee @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @jijilaufeyson

They continued to sit on the floor. The fire crackled and Stella found her sandwich was delicious. It was a relief. Some of the dinners could get particularly heavy and would make her stomach hurt if she was not careful. Especially since with the consumption healing, her appetite was returning. This one had the right balance of bread and tomato. Not mushy and with the right crunch of the texture. 

Loki looked relaxed. His dark curls had fallen down, they looked as soft as the feathers of a bird’s wings. Or an angel. He tore off the crust and ate it delicately bit by bit. He looked most handsome when he was at peace.

“All of this is hidden with your magic?” she asked him.

“It is the reverse. It is only certain magical elements that reveal it. I managed to control it. It took some practice, but I can open and close the Jotun form. And you think it not frightening? These beings that have done horrible things.”

“Humans have done horrible things too,” she said.

He hated he was right. Hated she was right about everything she said. It made him silently angry. And yet silently awed. He just wanted more. To hear her speak. To know how she came up with this, and what made her conclude this.

“What other kind of spells can you do?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. She set down her sandwich, her eyes dipping down. The nice sky blue ballgown she had on. The skirt was wide enough to balloon around her as they were sitting down. 

“Let me see…”

She began to count on her fingers.

“You can make duplicates, control shadows, change your form...” 

Loki wiped off the crumbs from his leathers.

“I can travel across worlds. Create illusions. Bend things to my will. I can read the memories of people, on special occasions,” he listed.

“Memories?” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“Have you already read mine?” she asked nervously.

“Oh, no- I only watched in my various forms what was happening. It was how I knew about the boat.”

She felt her face burn, but not from the fire. What was it- shame, perhaps?

“I know you must…must pity me. Think me a weak, silly woman,” she added.

“Yet something happened that woman was left to think that was the only action she could take…” he replied.

She looked up. Her plate was already left empty. She didn’t know how she could express it all. Say a word of what occurred in Aldwinter. There were so many words she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how to say it in the right way. Or in a way that her weaknesses would get a better hold of her and cloud her judgment. Or say something unfairly ill of someone.  But a memory- that would be a better, more unbiased way. To have him see everything that happened.

“What is it like? I am only curious… and I feel…you would…would understand everything more in-depth than me telling you,” she prodded.

She thought she saw his lips curl up just slightly.

“Oh, you would like me to read your memories, little star?” he asked.

“Yes, yes I would, please. I won’t mind it. But will it hurt?” she asked.

“No, not at all. All I need do is touch your forehead,” he instructed.

“Alright. You may read my memories Loki.” she permitted.

He set down his place. He nudged closer to her.

“Just one? Or any of them?” he asked.

“Whatever you can find. It won’t bother me.”

“And what if… I see you and your Lusty Vicar in a moment that was…intimate, shall we say?” he teased, a little laugh in his voice.

“Then please don’t dwell on it and move on!” she insisted. Her face was a little red.

He laughed.

“Oh, how I love watching you squirm! Alright…let me try…”

With his long fingers, as lightly as if she were the most valuable porcelain in the palace, he touched her forehead. 

Taking a deep inhale, he began to search through. He found not just one memory, but a lot of them. 

He saw Stella was a young woman. A rosebud amongst the clergypeople at church one Sunday morning. He felt her heart racing as she noticed the handsome young curate with curly hair and hints of a beard, and could feel the warmth in her cheeks whenever for a split second their eyes met. She would return down demurely. But when they went back up, he was still staring at her. As if she was the only one in the cold, grey church.

Then another. He bent his head as he stepped into the house. In his vest rather than his black and white. He had a bunch of flowers in his hand, which he offered to her. It was his second visit. And he brought flowers then too. All throughout tea, he still had that gaze at her.Like she that he was a predator and she was prey. She would blush and pretend she didn’t notice.

He then saw the heartbeat out of its cage as he confessed his feelings. “I love you, Stella.” He went on, though she was too astonished to speak. Praising her beauty, kindness, and virtue. She was crying happy tears. He asked to marry her to follow God’s path for them together and how eagerly she said yes.

He then saw an evening in her room. Her mother was behind her on the bed, combing her hair and rebranding it. And talking.

“The first time it happens, you will bleed. He might be large and it will hurt when he goes inside you, which he will want more than anything else to do. That or to have to pleasure him with your mouth. That’s what all men want.”

He could feel the gasp that couldn’t get out of her and how she felt so hot.

“I wish not to shock you,  Stella. But for you to be ready to be his wife. Even if he is a priest,  he is a man. It’s what men are. You cannot close him off. Much less on your wedding night. The one thing all wives must do- we must consider our husband’s happiness, not our own. It was what God designed us to do- to submit. You must think of that, and fulfill your duty to him once he is your husband. It is not for pleasure, but for duty” while combing her hair.

“What if I can’t…please him?” she asked.

“Then…the truth is, they will find someone else who can,” her mother informed her.

He saw a town hall decked with flowers. Saw flower petals being thrown all over. People dancing. A tuxedo and Stella being spun around, laughing and smiling. Will took her arms and spun her in her wedding gown in the hall, almost childishly. But the adoration and laughter on his face made her forget her anxieties about that night.

He saw the aftermath of the night. He was over her, on top of her. His curls over her face. His pants. And then kissing her, asking her if he hurt her. She said he didn’t. But all Stella could think about was how this was the closest she ever felt to being in heaven.

He saw a peaceful evening, Will sitting and reading as she sewed by the fire. It rained and it was very cozy.

He saw her first pregnancy. Their gasps of surprise. The baby forming in her belly. She felt a little sick, a little dizzy, but thrilled. But how it was excused as she had to go and vomit in a washbin.

He saw the first childbirth. The pain splitting her apart. Her tears, asking for her mother who was there, holding her hand. Then the endless joy as the baby was brought out to be held.

He saw the second pregnancy. She was cramping badly. Sighing as she made another cup of tea. Grateful her maternity corset had the laces on the side. There was going to be a meeting with the deacons soon and she would hear all about it. But what should she make for the women’s bible study? She couldn’t decide. She felt sick again- and the baby was still sobbing in the cradle, a red face and hair with chubby arms and legs. 

She felt the cry stir her, but she rocked the child. She hoped the baby wouldn’t cry during church. Eyes would all go to the front row and she would have to excuse herself out to rock the baby as they all listened to her sermon. Whispering about her. Being a vicar’s wife was being a bug beneath a looking glass. Or the audience for a tightrope walker at a circus. Waiting for the moment she would slip and fall and be disgraced forever. Especially for a small, conservative town. One wrong move from her, or even from her children, and her husband’s ministry and position was done for.

The second childbirth. She was scared, there was pain. The cramps, but worse. Pushing, confused. The faces and voices. There was blood. Then a delivery. Relief flooding through her and happy tears poured down her face.

Then later- there were two little girls tucked into their bed from Mama and Papa. As they slept as sweetly as cherubs, Will would wrap her in an embrace. 

“I live for you, for us, for what we have. You are my life, Stella. Before God, I have you.”

She would smile and kiss his cheek, his beard scratching her.’

“And I for you, my darling,” she replied.

The third pregnancy. It was at the church's Christmas Eve service. One where after his sermon, he went down to sit next to her as the choir sang. The baby began to kick for the first time. She put Will’s hand on it and they smiled.

The third childbirth. Pain and blood. It was a long labor. She wondered if she was going to die.

Only it wasn’t her who emerged dead. It was the baby.

Then, the next year, she entered the nursery one day.

The cloth draped over the little bed. The shape of a child’s body beneath it.

Stella nearly fell down. She felt a sound escape her mouth.

They were going to take Julianna Ransome away. Take away the child…only that wasn’t a child anymore. That was a body. The soul was with God. She had already held her…her last moment, the last thing she ever did, her last embrace and moment of earth was in her mother’s arms as she kissed her forehead. 

Will would rush up, and put a hand on her shoulder.

She went up, wishing to kiss the forehead- tell Julianna that Mama loved her one last time, even if she wasn’t here to hear it.

But the men were coming to dress the body and prepare her for the funeral.

She felt one rough hand from a man push her away roughly. Will held her back as she sobbed. They already had a casket prepared. They lifted the little girl and put her in. Stella couldn’t speak. She couldn't go, clutch protectively over the child.

They carried the casket and left the room and the house.

The second her husband’s arms loosened, Stella felt herself crumple onto the floor. Sobbing violently. Sounds coming out of her that weren’t human. Will over her, a hand on her back and shoulder. He then held her as she sobbed for the daughter they had and lost.

The Fourth Pregnancy. She was craving things but fought them. She had to remain slender somehow. She was always tired. Her feet almost were too swollen for her shoes. She was always tired, trying so hard not to doze at church when Will wasn’t speaking.

The Fourth Childbirth. Blood and pain. It was a breech. The feet was coming out before the head was- and that would stifle her and Will’s child. They had to move it in her belly. Then delivery. The little boy was brought forth safely. 

Jo was starting to walk. Will held her hands as she took her first steps. Stella opened her arms as she walked right to her mother. Then she rocked John in his cradle. A healthy, happy baby having his first laugh. She never thought a laugh would sound so beautiful to her.

Another night of coital bliss. Ecstasy spinning in Stella’s system as Will panted beside her in that bed. She was so glad that her mother was very, very wrong.

The fifth pregnancy. The baby was kicking like a horse. She was feeling sick all of the time.  The doctor advised Will to be careful. She needed some rest after this one. It was taking a toll.

The fifth childbirth. Push, push, push. The baby’s head had retracted back in, so she had to push him out again. She was in pain, splitting her apart. This was ten times any cramp she had during her courses.  There was so much blood. She thought this was her end. 

But the baby arrived. He already had dark, curly hair and she loved him more than anything, holding and kissing him. Calling him the name she and Will decided on if it was a boy.

“Hello James, I’m your mama,” she cooed to the tiny face.

Years later. John and James were in the church playing leapfrog after one service. 

Then he saw Jo collecting books and getting bigger. Claiming she was now a grown-up at the dinner table. Saying she wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer at dinner.

Then…the dead body was discovered on the beach- the second one. The horror of the town in their stillness and big eyes. People crossing themselves. Whispers of a Serpent. One that would even abduct children…perhaps one of their own, Stella feared. She could only hold her husband's hand. She remembered those words- “It’s God’s punishment, but we’ll get it through together.”

Then a dinner. She wore her nice pearl earrings and a nice dress for a guest.

“My husband will not judge you,” she assured the guest.

A woman with blonde hair, round cheeks, and squinty eyes, but slim and pretty. Who ate beside a young boy with dark brown hair. In the dim light of the dark house, one could see streaks of red in the woman’s astonishingly golden hair.

Her husband looking at the woman intensely. Hypnotized. Like he couldn’t tear his eyes off. Like she was art.

Once upon a time, he looked at Stella like that.

But she would not say anything. She cut up her meat in delicate, small bites and ate slowly. Listening to the woman discuss science. 

Then another. Will in a tuxedo. He was dancing with that woman. She could only watch from the corner as everyone stared at them like they were a fairytale.

She didn’t matter anymore. And she would learn to accept she didn’t matter anymore. 

Then a bed. Her bloody handkerchiefs. Nothing but a room full of blue crosses and her blue bed. Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

He was done. There was no doubt where he was.

She could sense it and she would not stop it.

Will told her God wanted him to lie with Cora.

I’ve done my duty, God. I’ve done my duty, mother. My time is done.  God is calling me and I must follow Him without question. She thought.

All as her heart still beat.

Loki let go. He had seen so much. He retracted his fingers and found himself in the present.

She was crying a little.

“- I-I’m so sorry…” he apologized. He conjured a handkerchief and handed it to her.

She shook her head, accepting it.

‘No, I’m glad you saw. So you would understand just a little.” she recalled.

“You saw it?” he asked.

“Yes…” she confirmed. She wiped a few tears, doing her best to gather herself.

“I do understand. Everything,” he said.

She took a deep breath. She had purged her memories, her past. Just a mere few of many. She then extended her hand.

“Lok….let us dance now in that ballroom. I’d like to dance a waltz with you, please…”

He cocked his head. His old mischief returned to him. “A waltz? Well, Little Star, we haven’t waltzed before! A waltz is….it has an interesting history of being a little bit scandalous because it involves…”

“I would like to waltz with you, Loki.” she interrupted. 

He led her to the ballroom. There were candles lit around the wide space to make it brighter, the pale, hard floors echoing beneath her steps.

 He wrapped her in an embrace. 

“Loki, I have one more request. Could you do it?” she asked.

‘Why, that depends on what the request is.”

“You’ve seen so much of me, but I have only seen so much of you. Loki…could I dance with you in your form?”

‘I am in it.’

“Your real form.”

“This is my real form. If you wish to dance-”

“Your Frost Giant Form, I mean.”

He transformed. He was blue and with red eyes His skin chilled her touch, sending shivers down her spine but keeping her awake and alert.

With a nod of his head, there were violins playing a song in three-quarter time. They began to move into a square. She kept her eyes down a little to watch her feet. She could feel a stiff silence in Loki- as if she was now afraid of his Frost Giant form. But keeping her eyes away, it made the words pour out of her mouth easier.

“He was my entire life and I didn’t satisfy him. I didn’t make him happy…so he looked elsewhere.… I failed my duty.” she mourned.

Loki tightened his hold on her and nearly swung her into the next step.

“Don’t say that! You never once failed in your duty, Stella!”

She perked up as he said her name. There was an added fierceness that the bright crimson of his eyes made apparent. Though the music was playing, Loki’s voice could easily be heard over it.

“I have seen your life. You are anything but a failure. You never failed the priest. He failed you as a husband, have you ever considered that?”

“No,” she replied.

“You love. Intensely. Fiercely. More than anyone knows. More than anyone I have met. I have nothing but hate inside me, but you have nothing but love inside you. But you shouldn’t let that love allow others to treat you like you’re their servant and not an equal to them…”

“It’s…it could be sinful,” she replied meekly.

“Your mortal ways and faith. Is saying no a sin? Is being angry that you were mistreated, taken advantage of a sin? Is it a sin to fight back? To protect yourself? I can tell you, here there is no such thing!”

“I don’t want to complain or be ungrateful.”

“You never did! But keeping it inside and letting them torment you will kill you, Stella, faster than that mortal illness ever could. Fight. Fight, Stella. Fight back. Be furious. Sob. Scream. But fight.” he insisted.

She stared up at him in wonder, though they continued to move. 

“I was always so ashamed after I cried after I fell to anger…” she confessed.

The music continued. She heard a violin trill.

“I’d rather you feel the pain than not feel at all…do you feel any pain now?” he asked.

“No… I don’t…”

He gave her a smirk,

“Good,”

“Do you feel any pain, Loki?”

“No, because you are an excellent dancer…”

They walked for a few minutes in silence. It sounded like the song was going to end. She leaned closer. There was a last chord in major that resolved, the echoes of the strings melting away. 

“Loki…the music is over, but…hold me. Please. Just for a little.”

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back. He felt cold, yet she held on. She then heard a sound like a ruffle of feathers and from the corner of her eye, there was a green light. He changed to his form with pale skin. How…warm he felt compared to the ice. Soft and comforting.  She rested her forehead on his chest. For a god, he felt so human, so real, so comforting. She felt his long arms wrap around her, envelop her as if they were wings. She nestled further. Enjoying the closeness, the tenderness of his touch. 

She held on as long as she needed to. And then she let go.

“You just wanted an embrace.”

“Yes…”

“I’m glad you asked. Don’t be afraid to,” he said.

“I…I won’t, Loki,” she replied.

He escorted her to her room. 

“Loki I….” the words came out of her. He tilted his head.

She restrained herself. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She’d be as bad as her husband.

“I hope you sleep well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my little star.”

She felt herself blush at “my” as she closed the door.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The next morning, Stella woke up. She felt oddly refreshed like a weight was lifted off of her. 

She went down to the piece of paper on the vanity. She began to comb her hair. Looking a the bed, she admitted that last night…the temptation was there. She admitted it silently to herself. She was a few steps away from the precipice, asking Loki to stay with her in her room for the night. Just to hold her, talk to her, and…no, what if it progressed? What if he kissed her? What if he- she couldn’t even name what else her weakness would have let her do! Only glad her strength prevailed.

But…she did like that song from that one time. When the illness attacked her and he sang. If only she could understand the words!

She looked down at the paper.

“Hello there. I know it’s been a minute. But, what were the words of the song Loki sang to me? The night I got sick?”

The words were listed there.

“Which one was the part he sang lower at the beginning?” she asked.

It shortened to the lyrics. Though she liked the two words that read as “Star Mojen.” It sounded like “star maiden” which was a pretty image in her head.

Then…it struck her…the hand kiss. That was the very line he kissed her hand on…

“And what do they mean in English?”

The translation appeared.

““In stormy black mountains

I wander alone

Over the glacier I move forward”

She found this meaning in the line with the star maiden line.

“In the apple orchard stands the maiden, so beautiful.”

Warm tingles appeared all over her. That was the line he dedicated to her! He was making her the maiden in the song.

The rest of the translation of that bit appeared:

“And sings, ‘When will you come home?’”

She looked about the place. Once, she longed to be back in the white house on the marshes again. But now…the longer she stayed there, the more she was home. And the more being with Loki felt like being home.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He only appeared at dinner that time. Wearing a grand cape with yellow on the inside. She noticed how long he had grown his hair. His dark curls were falling down to his shoulders.

“I wanted to thank you for last night,” she began once he sat down.

He conjured himself a glass of wine. “Oh, really I should be the one thanking you.”

“I wish I had your boldness, your confidence, Loki,” Stella replied. She got out her knife and fork and began to politely take small bites of her roast chicken.

“And I wish I had your heart. I don’t think at times I could ever forgive my father…” he said.

“Your father? What did he do?” she asked.

He took a sip as if for liquid courage.

“Well, he was the one who plucked me as an infant from Jotunheim. He brought me to live in Asgard in the palace. As the second-born son to the throne. The runner-up. Second best. But not the favorite, as my dear brother is,” he hissed bitterly.

She spoke no words of judgment. Only wiped her mouth with her napkin before placing it on her lap.

“Well, he was always letting Thor do whatever he wanted and letting him be his heir and me the unequal. Oh, and did I mention, he kept me being a Frost Giant as a secret until I found out by accident!” he vented.

“Oh, Loki, he shouldn’t have,” she commented.

“And do you know what he said? He said my birthright was to die! And that I should be grateful!” his face colored bright red and his eyebrows furrowed.

“A parent shouldn’t say that to a child…” she agreed.

“At times, I wish I could shove him off of the rainbow bridge, I would, and I-”

“Loki, how is containing all of this anger and rage going to make you any happier?” she asked.

He silently fumed. Two hands over his cup of wine.

“You have to talk to him. Tell him that you were hurt. If I hurt my John, I would rather him tell me than silently hate me.”

“All I can think of now is how I will get the throne to be my own-”

“Loki, did you know your brother came by and asked for you?”

He blinked.

“What?! That dolt of a brother arrived here?” he asked.

“Yes! He has been looking for you! He loves you and misses you! And your mother worries about you…Loki, tearing yourself away from people who care about you will only make things worse. If you let your hate for Odin consume you, eat you away…how will you see all the people who love you who are willing to help you?”

“Thor is arrogant and dangerous-”

“You can be jealous of someone and love them too. You can be angry at someone and love them. And sitting down stewing in fury and doing nothing isn’t going to solve a wit of your problems.”

He looked at her. She, who had been through so much, who was loved and thrown to the side like a child’s toy. Yet she still loved people, cared for them, and had hope, had kindness inside of her.

“It…it won’t solve anything…” he agreed.

“You can tell someone how they hurt you. And you can love someone the same, and treasure what love you have in your life…” she said.

“My Frost Giant form though…that is a sight some of them will have to get used to.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” she said.

He cocked an eyebrow. He then got up. He used magic to conjure his chair to be next to her.

“Oh! A Frost Giant- beautiful, you say?” he asked.

“You’re…well, beautiful in every form,” she admitted, with a shy glance down at her napkin.

He paused. He drank her in. Her ballgown. The soft blonde of her hair and sweet eyes. 

He couldn’t help himself. He added in-

“As are you.”

Her eyes went big. Her hands clenched where they were laying on the table. She looked back down.

“Well, I have, I have marks on me from the pregnancies and I am not Mrs. Seaborne, but-”

He cut her off. He went to her, even closer. She felt her breath catch as he cupped her face, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Stella are beautiful in your nightgown. You’re beautiful in your gowns. You were beautiful when you were swollen with child. You were beautiful when you brought each child out. You are beautiful with your hair free and undone. You’re beautiful when you braid it. You are beautiful when your hands and skirt are dirty from the garden. You’re beautiful when you sit and sew without a speck of dirt on you. I will never be worthy to even be seen standing next to you, and anyone who sees us will ask questions about what a great beauty like you is doing being seen next to me. Just because you are alive and here- that is what makes me think of nothing but you, because you are the very stars in your name. Internally and on your person.”

She was frozen for a minute. Processing it all. Her mouth lowered and could only release a little air. She could see the blue of his eyes, the soft elegance of his features.

 Then, at last, she said, “I haven’t been called beautiful for months.”

Loki’s eyes turned shiny 

“What…really? You should be called beautiful. Every day,” he said. 

 Her breath returned to her. She smiled. 

“Loki, if you are a monster…how could you come up with that? You have more goodness in you than you think. I…I…thank you,” she continued.

They danced something other than a waltz. Loki was glad. He didn’t want to hold her in his arms again. Every time he touched her, he wanted more. And every time she got close, he didn’t want to let her go.

“She’s just a mortal. One of a million. Who am I to get involved with some lowly mortal woman? And that’s not to mention she isn’t free,” Loki thought, scolding himself.

Those thoughts dissipated as the music ended and they bowed and curtsied.

He only wished her goodnight. Still…part of him hoped she would weaken. Give into temptation. Ask for him at night. To lie with him, be with him…He felt something stirring in his groin at the image of her naked in that bed. He hated himself for it and increased his pace further from her room. 

But he knew her better than that. Part of him wanted to curse and throw something. Her husband could roll about in the grass with a hundred women and swim nude in the sea and even touch himself in its waters whenever he wanted- but she couldn’t!

He said nothing but clenched his fists tight. He then stormed off to find another room to douse himself in cold water.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Stella sat Writing more letters to her family one afternoon. She set them on the chest in her room and it vanished to be delivered to them.

She missed….she thought she missed them, but she missed people. Having someone, anyone to talk to during the day. It then struck her how lonely she was. Loki had appeared only sometimes during the day. Would he appear before dinner like he sometimes did with the sheep episode? Then they’d eat and dance. Then he was gone. Did he even sleep here? Considering how big the castle was, he might have been in some secret room.

Her life was always busy, for there were three children, a dog, a church, a village, and a husband to keep up with. When it was declared she was sick, everything was so quiet. There was nothing to do but lie in bed and wait to die. She would spend whole days alone in that house, on that bed, with no energy except to sometimes ask for visitors to see them again and to stare out the window at the marshes. And pray for God to prepare her to enter heaven.

Now there was no longer a threat of death. She was due for a visit to the healers today to check on her. But as used as she was to being alone…she felt lonely. If only Loki could be there to conjure some trick or say something to make her laugh or blush. She…she missed him.

And why should she sit around waiting in an enchanted castle like she did every day here? Even cleaning and gardening was getting tiresome. As she looked around, she saw there was a shining golden city. And the carriage was going to take her to the healer's cottage for her appointment today. The city was just outside of it…but the city itself was only a ten-minute walk from their cottage.

What was Asgard like? And the people too…how different were they from Midgardians?

She waited for the carriage. It took her to the appointment in the healer's cottage. They declared she was improving after a few tests. As she stepped out, she looked at the nearby gates and the tops of the buildings peeking out.

Besides, she couldn’t help but be curious. 

She went down to the cottage and sat in it. But instead of asking it to return, she knocked on it’s ceiling and asked aloud:

“I’d like to visit that city over there, please!”

It took her down, further to Asgard. A shining city full of people going about with long robes for clothes and elaborately braided hair. White birds flew about looking for crumbs that grandmothers tossed to them. Children ran about and played without any fear of a serpent lurking anywhere to eat them.

Stella stepped out. She felt a little embarrassed in her day dress of light blue still having puffed sleeves and petticoats compared to everyone else. She noticed a dress shop on one corner and walked to it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“You…you spoke with who again?! There are too many names, just how many friends did you make?” Loki cried.

She smiled. She sat proudly in her cerulian Asgardian dress she bought. Her shoulders were exposed and her hair in its side braid.

“Oh, Audur!, she’s delightful. She is a new mother and I was glad to give her some advice and help her with the baby- she had the sweetest little boy, he hardly cried and he’s so small! Oh, and there’s the shop Seigfriend owns- I felt odd going about in these clothes, but I find the Asgardian fashions fascinating. He managed to give me this one on sale. Oh, and I also saw a temple and was curious- your people do make offerings and they vanish! How fascinating! A priest named Tristan said he would explain more to me. I was invited to a little book club and sewing circle by Brunhilde and a few other ladies who sensed I was new and wanted to welcome me-Oh! And these!”

She reached into her pockets and pulled out the pebbles, pure dark blue with sparkles inside them.

“I found these just on the ground! They’re beautiful! Like gems! Isn’t it like the night sky?” she boasted.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Why aren’t you amazed?” she asked.

“Little Star, They’re ordinary! They’re everywhere in Asgard!

“Oh, but you can find so much beauty and meaning in the most ordinary of things, Loki. You just have to look…conjure my box, please.”

He did as she requested. She opened the lid on the table, digging about. Then she brought out a seashell. A conch that curled into itself with a hole. She held it over to him. He felt the edges.

“It’s beautiful. Like a piece of art,” she said. “Do you see the little edges? And how smooth it is. And this was not made by man…nature made it. It did that naturally. Why is that not amazing?” she asked.

‘It is..” he admitted.

She then handed him the blue stone.

“And this one…we have the whole sky above our heads. But here, we can just hold it in our hands easily. Isn’t that beautiful in itself? I know you’re a god, Loki, but when I merely cup this, I feel like a goddess myself. I feel what it is like to have a whole thing, a whole existence just in your hand…”

He ran a thumb over it. And then he returned it to her hand. Their skin brushed against each other.

“Could I invite Brunhilde and a few others over to the palace?” she asked.

Loki grinned. A mischievous light in his eyes. 

“I tell you what- we should throw a ball!”

“A ball?” she repeated.

“Would you like that? To invite your friends? You will be in charge of invitations! I don’t think you’ve ever been to a grand ball before, Stella. I’ll make sure everything looks up to par and that there’s enough food and your friends can all enjoy themselves?”

Stella’s eyes beamed. Then she released her hands from his. She set the pebbles in the box and closed the lid.

“I will on one condition…you be there. You go too, as a guest. You are the first I would like to invite.”

Loki put a hand to his chest in fake surprise.

“Why! I would be delighted! We should take a bit of time to plan, and then we can set a date. Until then, we better brush up on our dancing, don’t you agree,  little star?”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Will knelt down to pray that evening. He couldn’t sleep. He was still clothed, pacing about the bedroom. Everything suddenly felt empty- as if she was dead and buried already. His mind reeling.

He knelt next to that bed.

“Dear Lord…bring her back to me. Keep her safe.” he prayed.

Whoever this “Loki” was as he called himself, he was keeping her safe and had apparent access to a cure. He wasn’t sure if this was the man he saw. He wasn’t sure how he and Stella managed to vanish in the blink of an eye or how. Or even where this city called Asgard could be found…or if she would return. He could only pray and wait.

Then, he jumped. His jaw went slack, for there was something there he had never seen before.

A portal opened. The rim was green and had golden light glowing from it. He heard music and laughter. Inside, he thought he saw a ballroom and a crowd of people.

Crossing himself, he walked through.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Meticulously as they planned it, the ball began smoothly. Stella’s friends in Asgard invited their friends and then their friends. For they heard of an enchanted castle and wanted to see it, as well as hear and see the famous trickster god reappearing among them.

Stella wanted to somehow invite the royal family. But the guards would not let some puny mortal pass as much as a letter through their gates. Perhaps there would be another time.

The Aesir in their robes were all gasping at the sight of the palace. It had an older, even Midgardian style to the place. Audur went up and greeted Stella. Saying how glad she and her husband found a babysitter for the night. Brunhilde embraced her as if she had known her for years. Music was already playing, not that it stopped all the chatter.

The violins had settled. Loki appeared before her. His curls were washed and looked soft and beautiful. He dressed in his finer robes. He wore no cape, but his black and green had hints of golden armor. Stella herself was wearing a gown that was more Asgardian in its longness and simple sleeves, its exposed neck. It was a pastel blue as if she was the day sky melting into the night.

“You are radiance itself today,” he said.

“My, how gallant of you!” she replied at him.

There was a starting cord.

“I must tell you, I asked them to give us the first dance…shall we do it together? Or, would you rather the others partner up?” he asked.

He held out his hand.

“Oh, that is nothing I cannot take. We can dance, Loki,” she replied.

She touched her hand on his. With a grin, he led her onto the floor. There was a clearing and here they were in the center. 

They got into position. He lifted her hand up in the air, their fingers intertwining.

Loki saw Will out of the corner of his eye. There in the crowd. Stella was clearly oblivious to him, for his plain vest blended amid the Asgardian colors.

Loki put his hand on the small of Stella’s back and pulled her in tighter.

Stella was starting to shiver again. She nearly forgot the steps. Something about Loki being close…and everyone watching, watching them embrace. She clutched onto his arm as if he were a raft keeping her above the water.

The music began and they waltzed.

He was smiling. And for once, a large, happy smile was on her face as well. She didn’t want to look away. He was so beautiful. So real. And there.

They covered more ground. Going a little faster. She kept up with his steps well. She felt like she was truly flying, her blue skirt swishing about.

She looked at him, and she broke into a smile so big, she bared her teeth. She felt a small laugh break out from her in her happiness.

Loki relaxed his posture and smiled softly at her too. That look on her face, the pure joy on it…

 She was all that made sense. All that was real and true and good in the world. He could have held her and danced for eternity.

Stella went to Loki and locked eyes. It was a waltz. They did it before. But he held her tighter. 

Will stood there, watching helplessly. People smiled as they watched. He could only see the look of adoration in Stella’s eyes to this man. Her eyes were so bright, her happiness beaming across the room like light. This was not a smile she would reserve for anyone.

It then hit him, His wife was dancing with a man she was in love with.

Loki couldn’t help but force a smirk at bay as he felt Will’s presence in the crowd. His portal worked as planned. And the vicar was there to seep in the rich, rich irony of it all of his own medicine being fed to him in a big, hearty dose.

As the music rose to a crescendo, Loki then grabbed his hands around her waist. Stella gasped. Then easily, he lifted her up and twirled her around, her skirt flying around her like a water painting. But she only laughed in delight. He then set her down as the final chord resolved.

The crowd applauded. There was going to be another dance in a few minutes. But Stella went away to talk to some friends. They led her off to the table to enjoy the delicacies that was served. Excitedly chatting away as they went over, blending into the crowd.

Loki was catching his breath when he heard a voice. A voice just like his own say-

‘Pardon me, sir!”

Will went forward to him. Loki felt his whole body tighten. Loki wasn’t sure to be excited, miserable, angry, thrilled all at once. Despite the similarity in their features, people hardly glanced at them. For one had dark hair and the other auburn-blonde-brown, no one would notice their similarities unless they looked closer and heard the voices.

“Sir- where is Mrs. Stella Ransome? Do you know where she went?” Will asked.

Loki frowned. He glared down at the man with as much intimidation as he could. He responded with the same voice. 

“Then answer me this- why should I take you to her? Why should I let you in the same room she is in?  Why let you look at her and hear her voice when you aren’t worthy to as much as kiss the ground she walks on? Why should I let you as much as lay your filthy hands on one hair on her head? Why should I give her to you?” the god demanded. 

People were starting to turn heads. There was silence, for the music could not even play as people quieted to watch.

Stella turned around. Her eyes took in long, curly hair. A wisp of a goatee. A vest. High cheekbones and blue eyes.

She dropped her plate to where it dropped her salad onto the floor. She began to tremble. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. 

Will held his ground. He looked directly into the god’s eyes.

“Because she is my wife.”

There was a pause. Only a flicker of a second too long for anyone to intervene.

Loki got out his dagger and stabbed Will.

[holymultiplefandomsbatman]

Thank you! 💜

@peachyjinx Gotta be honest here, I haven't seen Essex Serpent yet. But this man keeps getting stuck in my head and then stuff like this fic just kinda happens 😂

I'm glad you enjoyed it (and boy is that gif a mood)

Confess Your Sins

William Ransome x Reader

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Confession has never been more fun. Especially when Reverend Ransome isn't above sinning himself...

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI; cockwarming, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, humiliation kink, biting, historically inaccurate; I chose violence with this one, so prepare yourselves. 😂

main masterlist

Sunlight shone through the high church windows, casting warm shadows. You looked up at Will, trying to sit still as his blue eyes stared you down.

Heavy feet shuffled along the wooden floor only a few inches away. A few seconds later, the small window of the confessional booth opened from the other side.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was two weeks ago.”

Your teeth ground together.

Will shifted to open the small window on his side, causing his cock to hit a different angle deep inside your cunt. A flash of heat raced up your spine. You clenched around him, inhaling sharply through your nose.

Will gave you a warning look and adjusted you on his lap to make sure you weren’t visible from the other booth. Then he opened the wooden clasp to let the confession begin.

Your hands balled into fists.

Will’s eyes never left your face while he listened to the confession, occasionally shifting in his seat. Every twitch of his hips, no matter how small, sent sparks through your body. You could feel every vein, every ridge of his cock as it dragged along your walls. Another desperate whimper rose in your throat and you swallowed it down with a soundless gasp of air.

Will let his hands rest on your thighs. He squeezed gently, his palms running up and down your thighs in a maddening rhythm while the man in the other booth rambled on, blissfully unaware of the sinful events happening just a few inches away.

Your body arched on Will’s lap as he squeezed your thighs again, rougher this time. His grip was firm and steady, those long fingers digging into your skin, applying pressure and releasing again. His blue eyes never left your face while you squirmed under his watching gaze.

You rolled your hips against him and quickly had to muffle your desperate sounds behind your palm when he responded by thrusting upwards into you without warning. It was still rather tame compared to what Will was capable of when he truly let himself go. But even that gentle thrust had you whimpering in desperation as your walls clenched, squeezing his cock mercilessly.

“Reverend?”

The man’s voice from the other booth hit you in the face, knocking the air out of your lungs. You froze.

Will’s eyes grew wide.

He let out a deep breath before continuing with the confession.

His voice wavered every now and then, making your walls flutter around his cock. His hips bucked upwards in response and you let out a string of desperate noises, pressing your palm even firmer over your mouth to stifle your moans.

Will’s breath hitched again as he listened to your muffled whimpers and moans. He groaned quietly and everything started over again. It was a vicious cycle of blissful torture.

By the time the man finally left, you were shaking. Your hands clutched Will’s shoulders as you rocked back and forth on top of him, trying desperately to chase your oncoming orgasm.

Will’s hands firmly held your waist, controlling your movements. He was guiding you along at a rather slow pace, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that up much longer. His jaw clenched, the firm grip on your hips sometimes growing almost painful as his fingers dug harshly into your waist whenever you rolled your hips a certain way.

You bit down on your lip to keep the moans in that threatened to escape your mouth. God, how much you wanted him. How much you needed him.

You gave Will a pleading look, grinding down on his cock with enough force that your eyes watered as it dragged along your walls so perfectly.

Will sucked in a sharp breath, his blue eyes narrowing. He had that crinkle between his eyebrows as he frowned at you, a telltale sign that his restraint was slowly slipping.

Please!, you mouthed, trying to convey all your desperation in that one word. Trying to make him understand.

Will groaned under his breath. He just looked at you for a moment, his blue eyes mirroring the same desperation that burned you alive from the inside. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The heat of his kiss left you breathless. Your lips parted obediently, allowing Will's tongue to slip into your mouth and explore. Your breath hitched as he nudged your tongue with his own and challenged it to play along.

“Reverend Ransome?”

The voice came from outside the booth.

An icy shiver raced down your spine. Will froze. He slowly pulled away from your lips and you exchanged a look of shock.

Your heart hammered away against your ribcage, your breathing suddenly way too loud in the small space of the confessional booth.

Whoever was there would only have to pull back the curtain to discover the two of you.

Your disheveled state would be somewhat simple to explain; maybe you’d started feeling sick. Then it would depend on your acting to make the person believe it.

Will’s pants being unbuttoned while he literally held you on his lap? That would be far more difficult.

Then again, the thing people would see was you on Will's lap…

The steps outside drew even closer. “Reverend?”

Will gasped quietly. He tightened his grip on your hips until it became almost painful. His cock twitched.

You stared at him in surprise, confused by the reaction.

Your hand flew over your mouth again as Will surged forward. He started thrusting his hips in earnest, the force of it making you bounce on his lap.

The wood of the confessional booth creaked quietly under the strength of Will’s thrusts as he snapped his hips into you like a man possessed.

You’d never seen him like this before.

You clung to his shoulder with your free hand, digging your fingers in as you held on for dear life. Every new snap of Will’s hips sent you tumbling closer and closer to the edge.

A muffled groan left your mouth as he whispered into your ear, his voice rough and almost demanding.

“Touch yourself for me.”

You frowned for a second.

He couldn't be serious...

If you did that, you’d either have to let go of his shoulder and fall, or you’d have no way to keep yourself quiet.

Will only narrowed his eyes and emphasized his words with a harsh thrust.

A small, desperate noise left your lips as you quickly nodded your head. Your hand left your mouth, instead sliding between your legs to rub your clit. The moan you so desperately wanted to let out instead turned into a breathless sigh as every brush of your fingertips brought you even closer to the release you craved. It burned under your skin like a kindling flame.

Will groaned under his breath and buried his face in the crook of your neck, rutting into you at an even more desperate pace. Your breath hitched as he bit into your shoulder. His teeth dug into your skin to muffle his loud moan as he came hard.

The combined sensation was almost enough to send you over the edge.

You threw your head back, your hips bucking into your hand as you tried to hold back the groan of frustration that was building in your throat.

You could almost taste the sweet release of your orgasm…

Will gently pushed your hand away and replaced your fingers with his own.

A strangled whimper ripped from your lips as his lightly calloused fingertips unraveled you in a matter of seconds. Pleasure raced through your body like lightning and you threw your head back, letting the overwhelming emotions escape your mouth in a deep sigh of ecstasy.

Will wrapped his free arm around you and held you close. He helped you ride out your orgasm until you were fully spent, then embraced you tightly when you collapsed forward into his chest.

You looked up at him with a soft, exhausted smile and caressed his cheek with your fingertips.

Will chuckled before he leaned forward to kiss you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips moving slowly against his as you basked in the warmth that Will’s gentle kisses sparked in your chest.

The steps outside the confessional booth moved away. Then the dull bang of the church door echoed in the silence.

This was supposed to come out in time for the Valentine Event by @muddyorbsblr but then I got swamped by uni stress. I hope you still enjoyed it. 😄💜

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @muddyorbsblr @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @xorpsbane @lokischambermaid @loopsisloops @thomase1 @vbecker10 @michelleleewise @holdmytesseract @sarahscribbles @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lokikissesmyforehead @wheredafandomat @animnerd @joyful-enchantress @springdandelixn @coldnique @peaches1958 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @smolvenger @tallseaweed

This fic: @ellooo0ooo

[lokia-jackson]

Cambridge university congratulated Tom Hiddleston on his birthday and invited him to speak about his life and achievements for *many* students who are eager to meet him!

I'm so existed to see professor Hiddleston😅🤗😍👀❤💓