I recently hit a follower milestone (THANK YOU!!! <3) and want to celebrate it with a writing challenge! There are so many amazing writers out there, I am so looking forward to read your story! Please join and/or share!
Characters you can write for:
Tom Hiddleston Characters
Loki (MCU), Dr. Robert Laing (High-Rise), Sir Thomas Sharpe (Crimson Peak), Captain James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island), Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive), Jonathan Pine (The Night Manager)
Other Characters
Bucky Barnes (MCU), Steve Rogers (MCU)
☆READER INSERTS ONLY☆
Rules & How To Join:
You don’t have to follow me!
Smut is allowed!
Dub-Con/Non-Con allowed, BUT MUST BE TAGGED AS SUCH!
You can choose ONE prompt!
Story must be a NEW one.
Reblog this post.
Please send me a message or an ask, telling me with which character and prompt you want to join.
Story must be posted until December 1st.
Story NEEDS to be posted under a cut!
You need to be 18+ in case you want to join with a smut fic.
Tag me and send me a message after you posted your story.
Please link to this post when you post your story.
Thank you! ❤ And now…
☆☆☆ HAPPY WRITING ☆☆☆
Prompts under the cut – strikethroughs prompts are already taken
Loki’s naked body is hovering over yours as he is tying your wrists to the headboard with silk ribbons. Delightful shivers are prickling your skin as his soft lips starts kissing down your neck while whispering softly;
“Take a breath.”
A kiss on your neck. You shudder with anticipation as you inhale deeply.
“Close your eyes.“
A kiss between your shoulder blades. Closing your eyes, you exhale a trembling breath at the light, sensual touch of his soft lips.
“Feel my heat on your skin.”
You moan. Heat tingles and wetness pool between your legs.
Loki’s lips touches the low of your back before wandering up to your neck again. His hot breath strokes the shell of your ear as he murmurs:
Hey fellow author, let’s sit down and have a chat, shall we? Great, help yourself to your beverage of choice and a snack, because we may be here a while. And since I’ve been known for being blunt, even brutally honest, it may make what I say go down a little easier.
There’s something all authors desperately and genuinely want: to be read. Right? I want my stories and words to be seen, and I can’t imagine any other author feeling differently. So, now that that’s established… here’s some painful truth. You’re sabotaging your own efforts.
Whoa… whoa… before you scroll on or message me to do something improbable to myself, hear me out…. okay? I’ve done some of these too.. and it’s an easy habit to break (or get into) and makes your readership REALLY boom.
Shout out to @welcome-to-fangirl-hell reblogging Loki smut that I opened via tumblr notification while sitting in the middle seat on my flight. On my giant samsumg galaxy note screen. I was judged. It was funny af.
When people think about angels, they think about golden locks, white wings and fluffy clouds under their innocent white dresses. But even though there are angels with blond hair and white wings they definitely have better things to do than sitting on a cloud and playing the harp all day.
Some were busy with trying to guide the humans in their ways, others fly to and fro with messages but most of them loved busying themselves with something else – something one might think not quite befitting for an angel.
Because among those blond haired angels there was one stranger born from the unison of a demon and an angel. His hair blacker than the deepest night, his eyes green but with a red fire, his skin fair but pale and his tongue as forked as a snake.
Loki sat on a cloud, the other angels calling him names for his mixed heritage, or teasing him by trying to push him of the cloud, but Loki didn’t respond.
He let them tease him, he let them hurt him because the harder he fought, the harder they bit back. They cared naught about him and he didn’t care about them.
One day.
One day soon they would all fall before him, and thus he let them harass and pester him.
His time would come.
But when his cloud crew darker due to a jest from one of the angels, and the lighting tore through it burning his skin and setting fire to his veins, Loki lashed out. He spread his big leather wings and flew after the assailant motivated by pain, anger and fear, but mostly by loneliness.
He struck the angel with his spear but the divine being didn’t fall from the sky and fought back. Thunder and lightning battered at Loki’s form but he would not relent and he fought on, biting, scratching and tearing skin where he could find a hold.
The angels tumbled through the sky, their deadly dance a blur of black and white, until the Archangel descended upon them and broke up their fight.
The Archangel was angry with Loki because he had never liked his black wings and the red gleam in his eyes and the oversee-er didn’t want to listen to Loki, favoring his other angel. So the Archangel punished Loki by ripping his leathery wings from his back, making Loki fall from the clouds and plunge to his deadly decent upon Earth.
It was the last thing the angels saw from their misunderstood brother and when he hit the ground with a mighty blow, none of them cared to even wonder if he had survived and they went on with their lives.
Title: Return to Crimson Author:@wickednerdery Fandom:Crimson Peak Pairing/character: I’m not saying 😉 Rating: Mature Summary: “They say the past is never dead. It’s not even past. Do you think that’s true?” Notes: This picks after the last piece, but I’m unsure how long – some hours, perhaps?? (Here’s the masterlist.) Given this is based on Crimson Peak there will be spoilers. It will
also be a Gothic romance/horror so have more than its fair share violence,
sex, and scary bits without shying from the darker aspects of such
things. For this it’s auto-rated Mature, regardless of the chapter, and gets a “Read More”.
I know I have a Marvel Masterlist as well, but since I wrote a Thomas Sharpe x Reader fic (and Tom Hiddleston x Reader one), I decided to make a new Masterlist for Tom and the characters he played. and yes I know he played a looooooot more
Loki curled himself up into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible, his body trembling, tears burning his eyes.
Why?
Why did they always had to do this to him?
Stamping on his feelings, trying to lure him out, feeding the monster that lingered within ready to claw its way out and with a desire to lay waste to everything and everyone.
He felt like a toy.
No, not a toy. A toy could indicate a state that there still was a use for it, that it could bring joy to someone. He felt like nothing more than a broken toy, thrown into the corner of a chamber and just lying there as a solid reminder to its owner that it steel needed repair.
Or be thrown away.
His body started to tremble harder and he clawed at his knees, trying to push them through his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around them.
They had made him angry, so angry that he felt backed up against the wall and with no other place to go than right through his assailants. And that was what he had done, lashing out without regard of someone else’s feelings, using the secrets he knew as a deadly weapon and jamming it in their chests right through their beating hearts.
But as the words tumbled from his tongue, he had immediately regretted it. Not only because he had hurt someone which didn’t deserve it, but also because he knew their revenge would always come back at him in tenfold.
And thus he had lashed out again, trying to fight his way through even though he knew it was a lost battle.
And that he would get hurt.
Again.
He quivered, the tears that had been stinging his eyes rolling over his cheeks in ugly sobs.
A knock came at the door. A person who loved him very much inquired him to answer, but he didn’t want to and didn’t have to.
The door opened and Loki squeezed his eyes shut, burying his head in his knees, not wanting to look at her, trying to scurry away in a corner some more, hissing, sputtering, throwing daggers and lashing out with his Seidr.
But she was undeterred, taking all that he threw at her – all his anger and pain – with grace and carefully approached him to sit down next to him. She knew better than to touch him, or to speak, instead she just sat there.
She would just sit there waiting for him until he felt better. She had so much patience that he sometimes wondered how she did it. Occasionally she would carefully reach out to him to see how he was doing, but she never touched him until he gave consent.
And there she would sit on the floor next to him no matter if it took minutes or days for him to turn around.
“It ripped out my wings, so yes, it did hurt,“ Loki shrugged casually.
“Is that why you look like the devil?” you asked him venomously.
Loki laughed, the tone mocking yet confused. “Sweetheart, I am not the Devil for she answers to me!”
“She?”
“Yes, what else did you think? What you call the devil, I call Hela; Mistress of Darkness; Godess of Death. My daughter…”
Shocked you took a step back. You knew so very little about the Norse Gods and that currently didn’t serve you well. If the devil was his child, what did that make of him? You swallow your fear, voicing the question that was burning your tongue. “But a fall from heaven got your wings got ripped out?”
Loki smiled vicious at you, his eyes riddled with malice but also with a whiff of craziness in them. “No, I did that myself.”
His answer startled you and you felt a little bit frightened. “Why?”
“Because Odin had them trapped between the gates to Valhalla. In order to be free once more I had to pull myself free, tearing them from my back, and that is when I ‘fell’ from your so-called heaven!” he spat, hurt and betrayal apparent in his words.
You felt your stomach churn at his words and you could almost imagine what it must have felt like. You shuddered at the thought. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you deserve to know what happened to me. Because you deserve to know why I rip out your wings to make them mine!” suddenly the God took a leap and grabbed your wings, plunging you into darkness as a searing pain ripped through your back.
if the fic already has a thousand comments, comment still. Your comment will still matter and delight the author.
if a fic is a decade old and the author hasn’t been active in the last five years, comment still. There will come a time when the author will read and cherish your comment, or maybe it will motivate them enough to start writing again. You never know!
if the author never responds to comments, comment still. Interaction with the author is a very nice bonus, but you can be sure that even if the author doesn’t answer, they will read it and enjoy it at some point
there’s no such thing as a too long comment.
there’s no such thing as a too incoherent comment.
the author will give no flying fuck about any gramatical errors, typo or other misspellings. If you’re a non-native speaker struggling to express themselves, you can be sure the author will be all the more pleased that you surmounted the language barrier to let them know you appreciated their work. Don’t be afraid!
there’s no such thing as commenting too often.
you will never, ever come across as creepy by obsessing over a fic or an author to the point where you worry the author might think you’re a stalker. On the contrary, the author will be delighted by your investment in their work.
say thank you. It’s always appreciated to see readers acknowledge the work and commitment that is put into writing.
the floaty review box (ao3 add-on) is your friend
be positive and encouraging. Positive reviews make writers all warm and glowy from the inside, bashing plunge their soul into icy darkness. You want the first, not the second!
whoever you are, if you read their fic, YOU are IMPORTANT to the author. Let them know you’re there!
(if any author wants to contradict one of those rules, please let me know!)
Create a mess 