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#caius martius x you
smolvenger · 8 months
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Twenty-Seven Wounds (Coriolanus x fem! Reader)
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Summary: In ancient times, in a place that calls itself Rome, you find yourself married to the general Caius Martius or Coriolanus. He has fought so many battles he has twenty-seven scars on his body. Scars that he has not shown you yet...
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, discussions of war, violence. Drunkenness and brief harassment but the asshole is put in his place. Grumpy and Sunshine trope. I do my best to write Caius accurately. But at the end of the day, it's MY indulgent fic and here he's a big tough warmonger who becomes a simp that kisses the ground his cinnamon roll wife walks on. References to the play and to ancient Roman customs and words. A fake kidnapping.
Word Count: 3K
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
“General Martius has asked me for your hand in marriage and I consented,” your father announced.
Your vision went dizzy. You had to sit down. You knew many things about General Caius Martius, otherwise known as Coriolanus since his great victory in the land of Corioles. 
As you sat back down to process the news, you recounted every instance of interaction. You met him in the chariot races. Menenius introduced you to each other- the senator's bald head shining like a crown and his chest as puffed as a peacock's.
"This is the great General Martius! And General- this is the lady Y/N-isn't she one of our city's great beauties, hm?"
"Sir! Uh-I-thank you!" you replied, very flustered and surprised he would say that.
General Martius made no reply. Only a polite greeting.
You talked with him at dinners. The odd banquet or party. Saw him in the audience of the Gladiator fights, plays, or chariot races.
But Caius was no run-of-the-mill man. He was a renowned general in the army and known as the fiercest warrior Rome could wish for. Notoriously ferocious on a battlefield. A man who breathed war. He was also notorious for his arrogance and stubbornness and sometimes his anger. You knew he was sensitive to smells- his nose would often crinkle as he walked by the streets.  You knew his mother, Volumina. You knew he enjoyed the Gladiator fights. Though you sometimes turned away when it got too gruesome. If it was too much, he would escort you out. When you came to chariot races, he would be there.
He was still an incredibly attractive man- dark reddish-blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tall, broad, and striking. When the betrothal was confirmed, he visited where you stayed. Your father joined your hands together. He held them with a delicacy. He then brought them up and kissed them.
“Y/N…I promise you-I will be an honorable husband. You will be protected. You will want for nothing. And they will revere you as they do for me.”
He brought you a little closer so that your hands became entwined. You were not scared of marrying him. No- what scared you was that you were not scared. What scared you was how badly you wanted to marry him. You should have been frustrated that your father agreed to the match without consulting you. All fathers had complete and total say over their children’s marriages…but you were not angry in the least.
“You will be…gentle to me, Caius?” you asked quietly.
“Yes. Yes, I will,” he replied. He placed another hand over yours.
“Ah! What a pretty picture! Come- let us make an offering to the household gods! Let us pray for a blessing for our Y/N and her warrior groom!” your father announced, rubbing his hands together. 
Your wedding happened not too long after. It seemed your family was in a rush to have a connection to the wealthy and famous general.
After the ceremony at the temple of Hera, all of you sat down at your house to a feast. Caius- no, no longer “General Martius” or “General Coriolanus” but just Caius!- sat down next to you. He leaned back and kept an arm around you, his hand rubbing against the side of your arm.
One guest with more wine in his body than decency spittled something that made your stomach curl in offense. He staggered before your seat and pointed a finger at you. 
“Ah! Where can I get a twin of this pretty nymph like Martius’s? Hm? Her breasts will look even better without her wedding gown over them!”
Before you could say a word, Caius lept to his feet. He ran before the drunkard and yanked him by the collar to his face. 
“You will speak with respect to the wife of a general or you will remain quiet!” he barked at the rude guest. 
The room went quiet. You knew if the impulse struck him, Caius would get out his sword and have the bastard sliced in half. The man began to tremble and utter apologies as a friend of his took him away.
“Everyone…let’s have some music now! Before we close the feast-I think it would soothe everyone!” you announced.
Glancing at the musicians frozen with their lyres, they began to play again. You returned to your seat as did your new husband.
“Would you have be different than I am, Y/N?” he whispered to you.
“You were only protecting me…how could I be angry at you or want you different?” you asked.
You gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked rapidly. You saw him turn bright red and his frown melted into a tiny smile. 
Right as the feast started to wind down, your heart began to drum in your chest. There was the staged kidnapping- for all of Rome knew that the best bride was a maiden who was unwillingly taken from home. So every consenting bride had to pretend as a ceremony for the end of the celebrations. Put on a show good enough to fool the gods for luck.
Getting up from the table, Caius went to the other end of the room to exit through the door. Your mother put her arms around you. He then stormed in on cue like in a Euripedian tragedy.
“This house has something I want! Give me Y/N or I will kill every being who keeps me from her!” he announced in pretense. 
 You could feel yourself trying not to laugh. Your own mother was trying a forced frown.
“Please- mother- don’t let the General take me!” you wailed dutifully.
He went up with his sword out so others stepped back. Then he sheathed it and looked at you, licking his lips.
“I am here! I claim this woman- she is mine now- for my house and my bed!” he declared. 
He took you easily from your mother’s arms and then slung you over his shoulders. You let out a brief squeal- trying to make your laughter sound like tears.
“Mother! Mother! Help!” you cried out in pretend. Glad no one could see your smile as he carried you out. And especially glad you could still ogle his pert behind from where you were dangling for the rest of the “kidnapping.”
He carried you down the streets over his shoulder. Then when you arrived at his place, he transferred you so that he carried you with an arm over your back and the other supporting your legs. For it was bad luck for a young bride to trip. And he kept you in his arms as he ignored his mother and the slaves greeting him and took you straight to his bedroom without a word. Everyone gave each other a look and then went on with their business. 
Caius’s restraint left him as soon as he entered that room. He set you on your feet and then grabbed you. He kissed you so much you could already feel his tongue inside.
“Gods, you are mine now…” he whispered.
He held you so close. You could feel his heat, his desperation, his need to have you. He kept a hand on your back and kept you close. You were getting wet with each touch of his.
He went down to the belt that held your dress. It was tied in a special knot for today- The knot of chastity. And symbolically, one only your husband was allowed to undo. Your heart raced as he began to touch it, a thumb going over the long threads. 
“Caius…I want you…yes-it’s our wedding night, please…” you heard yourself voice. 
 He pulled and fought at the knot almost so much, that he swore that it wasn’t coming off fast enough.  That he would need a knife. Then he used his thumb to edge it out so it would loosen. With several swift tugs and a grunt of his, he yanked the knot undone and the cloth belt came off. He eagerly found the edges of your clothes.
“Yes…my wife…”
You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him again. He then removed the lower parts of his clothes.
There were slaves playing music in the other room. He preferred some quiet music in the evenings. And tonight was no exception. They were to keep playing. To hear him take his wife- no, you. To hear Your cries of pleasure among the soft strings. They were playing when he led you to his lectus and your marriage was passionately consummated. 
You adjusted to married life surprisingly well. And in private, Caius was not the fearsome dragon some heralded him to be. Yes- he was arrogant and stubborn at his worst. But he could be…persuaded, you discovered. 
“And the peasants were crying that they wanted more grain! Grain from our storages!” he reported to you one day over dinner.
“Well…couldn’t we spare just a little bit, dear husband?” you asked.
A Slave brought you a bowl of dates and then left to refill your wine glasses. 
“For the rabble? No-let them hang!” he dismissed.
He tore a bite of meat from its leg and chewed on it like a bear with prey. But you kept your eyes soft and gave him a smile.
“They’re only hungry. Even I become cross when I am hungry! And we have so much food here. Really, it’s more than I can eat! And there are always so many leftovers…surely….just a little grain could be spared, Caius? It would warm my heart to see so many hungry people be fed…they do not complain without reason…perhaps then they won’t complain about you anymore. Just a little bit of grain, Caius? Please?”
You saw his shoulders start to sag. With a deep sigh, he gestured to one of his slaves
“Tell them that five percent of the grain stored will be gathered and distributed to the protesters,” he said. 
You smiled as you looked down.
He was content to sit quietly beside you in some evenings. You could weave your loom and the man who craved battles would merely go over parchments beside you. His desire was like that of an animal though. It only took a look or a smile from you before he was on you, kissing you, and pulling at your clothes to have them come off. The nights when you both did not make love, he still wanted to touch you. He would pull you onto him to rest your head against his chest. You would permit him to rub your back with his hand and wrap his arms protectively around you. As if not even Zeus himself could get past Caius Martius to the treasure that lay in his arms. He often would touch you gently. Even as you walked past him, he would softly just touch a cloth of your skirt, feeling the fabric slip through his fingers longingly as you had to leave. 
There was one dinner where your mother, Volumina, decided to put you to the test. You knew it. As you sat down on the floor enjoying your food, she turned to you and declared something most people would find offensive.
“Ah! I hope in the next battle that my son will receive another scar! Don’t you, Y/N?”
On one hand, you did not want your husband to suffer. But this was Volumina. Her whole life’s purpose was to create a soldier of her boy. To serve the wars in her own way through what she could do behind the scenes. To see him either victorious or dead was her life’s work. Glory in battle meant glory for her and the Martius family. 
Carefully, you added a reply with a dutiful nod of your head.
“Yes- should the scars not be fatal, I see them as badges of honor. And if they were-I am proud to have a husband willing to give his life for the safety of Rome’s people. And if I must sacrifice him for all our sakes, I will make it,” you replied.
“Ah! What a sweet woman you have for your wife, Caius!” Volumina praised, her stained lips curved into a smile. 
There, the middle ground. It wasn’t that bad. But as she slid aside her plate, her talk turned. She looked at you, dressed in her dark clothes with her dark hair done up. Her smile was still big on her creamy face. 
“Did you know, Y/N, that my son bears a total of twenty-seven scars from battle!?” she asked.
“No-he never told me it was that many,” you said with a quick glance at him.
“Yes! And may Ares bring him twenty-seven more!” Volumina said. 
But you had never seen such scars. 
After a few months, you realized something- you had never seen him bare. That was odd. Most women would tell you of how the first time they saw Octavius Cato’s or so-and-so’s willy they burst into laughter. But even the hundreds of times you made love, Caius kept his shirt on. He preferred to bathe alone, never going into the bathhouses. The times he did bathe, sometimes you heard him groan in pain outside the room. As if the scars were still fresh. He always went behind a screen to dress. In bed, he only wore a toge that had short sleeves. You saw a cut over his shoulder peep out. It looked almost like the crack of an earthquake on the soil. But whenever you tried to nudge it in bed, he would move your hand away, asking you to stop. 
You were still unequal. He had kissed every inch of your bare skin. But you had not even seen it. As frightening as that scratch looked, you had to see more. 
That is, until one night. It was uncomfortably warm. You sweated on your shared lectus, tossing and turning in discomfort.  You turned over to see Caius was still awake. He then rolled over of you confirming to the other that you were not asleep. You slept in your underclothes and he still had that toge. And he was sweating. 
“I think you should undress,” you said. 
He turned around, though you could smell his sweat dripping down.
“It’d be better if I didn’t,” he huffed. 
You touched his shoulder, turning him to face you. 
“Caius…why do you show no one your scars?” you asked.
He swallowed.
“They’re….they’re only when Rome needs to see them. When they lose sight. When they lose respect.” he said. r.
“Am I not part of Rome, too?” you asked.
He paused.
“Yes…yes you are…” he answered.
“You’ve never…bared yourself to me like I have to you,” you commented.
“They’re gruesome. It would…it would have scared you, I thought. You wouldn’t want to sleep beside them…too gruesome…” 
He sat up.
“I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight-you don’t want to look at them,” he announced.
But you stopped his hand and kept him still. 
“Caius…may I see them, please?” you asked.
You gingerly touched his chest, right over the toga he wore to bed. You only saw the scratches around his collarbones.
“Are you afraid?” he asked. 
“No. They’re a part of you…I want to see them…” you urged.
His eyes softened. Then you both sat up in bed.
“Then…then remove it for yourself and see.” he permitted. 
You went to the corner edges of his own robe. He helped you as you lifted it over his head. You then got a candle to see it better.
You knew he was a strong man, but there were so many scratches, lashes, and cuts you could not make out the muscles clearly. There were so many cuts and lashes-they looked so dark across his skin. All over his torso. Then there were the newer ones from the battle at Corioles-they still looked red. You set the candle back down on the table near the bed.
“I understand if you wish not to lie with me anymore…I will make arrangements where-”
“No, you don’t have to!” you interrupted.
For once in his life, Caius Martius Coriolanus closed his mouth and he listened.
“Twenty-seven of them. Twenty-seven times you have been wounded. Twenty-seven times you could have died…and didn’t,” you said.  “Can I touch them?”
“Yes,Y/N, you can…”
You lightly took your hand and felt the bumps and edges. He flinched only slightly, then relaxed into it. You could feel the warmth of the sweltering night on him. 
“Caius…may I kiss them?” you asked.
“Yes…”
You gently kissed the back of your three fingers and pressed them over the lower scars. You knew putting your mouth lower would stir something in him. Now was not the moment…and it seemed he would agree. His breathing was deep as your kissed fingers touched the lower ones. Such chaste, light kisses like a butterfly's wing.
As they moved up to his chest, you peppered one kiss across one. Then another. You paused, your mouth over his skin, his steady pulse shaking from your touch.  
“Each one…you survived. You defeated your enemies…you protected your allies…and you protected me…and you survived, Caius,” you whispered.
He put a hand to touch your cheek and you leaned into it.
“Dulcissima…my sweetest…thank you…”
“Do they hurt right now?” you asked.
His voice smoothed and spoke with such tenderness as you had never heard before. He put an arm around you as you kept kissing them. 
“No…they never felt more relieved…my wife, her kisses have their own little medicine…”
You moved up to his shoulder from the first fresh one from Corioles, sweetly kissing them. His soft voice spoke on and you could feel yourself burst from his words.
“Dearest of my heart…my gift from Hera and Aphrodite themselves…”
You kissed the gash on his upper left arm. Then you lifted up to meet him, his eyes brimming with tears. 
“There…twenty-seven kisses for each scar…”
Then he relaxed, your hand tracing his chest. You blew the candle out to the dark. The room suddenly became cooler. Then you nuzzled into him, settling into him. How warm he felt-so close and so real. His chest moving and falling.
“Caius…why did you want to marry me?” you asked.
“I thought…you would do well, being married to me. You…you’re good to me. You…you smiled when you saw me. You weren’t afraid…” he confessed.
“I was nervous every time you noticed me!” you recalled.
You felt the smile in his voice. His other hand found yours and wrapped itself over your palm. He went on.
“So was I! I hate banquets and parties…but I went to them in case you were there. I watched you squirm at the gladiator fights and look away and wish I could…just take you in my arms and take you away from them. But…then there was the time I was with your father’s…. You said something, and it made me laugh…I laughed! That was…when I knew…when I knew I had to be your husband.”
You looked up at him. His eyes were shiny. But you did not see tears. He swallowed, perhaps looking away made him more honest. You nestled back into him and clung to him. He kept talking.
 “I kept…thinking of you. Of what you would say. I kept going to the market. Every day. Just to see you. Even just a glimpse of you passing by. Just one glimpse-not much. To see you walk up to the bathhouses….”
“And you never went in to see me in there…because of your scars?” you asked.
“I knew you frequented them. I confess- I am a man. As much as I would have loved to see you naked and wet, it meant scaring the others away when I removed my clothes, it would have scared you away…”
You went back to look at him. This time you touched his face, looking directly into his blue eyes. 
You pressed a forehead to his.
“They don’t scare me…not anymore, and you don’t scare me…” you whispered. “Caius…Caius, I love you…”
“Y/N…I…I love you too…”
That evening, as the night settled over a place that called itself Rome, you relaxed into bed with your husband. You wrapped your arms to embrace him and he did not put on his toge to hide his scars. He only held you tight. His scars only barely brushed against you. Badges of war. Badges of honor. Badges of protection. He kissed the top of your head as you both settled into sleep. 
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five-miles-over · 2 years
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I've Decided, I Will Not Let Your Shadow Separate From Me
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Pairing: Yandere!Coriolanus x Reader
Author's Note: This is somewhat of an AU based on the original play (since Shakespeare's ending is quite tragic). In this fic, Caius Martius Coriolanus actually wins the election for Consul, leader of the Roman Senate, instead of losing and being banished from the city. 
Thank you to the anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy it.
Summary: After being elected the consul, Coriolanus receives many things - sleepless nights, pointless riots from the lower-class citizens, and you, his new personal slave. While the sleep deprivation and the noise from the plebeians annoy him to no end, he finds himself obsessed with you.
Warnings: obsessive behavior, implied non-con
Caius Martius rubbed his eyes, his elbow perched against the wooden desk. The longer he looked at the document, the more the letters upon the parchment began to smudge into meaningless blobs of ink. None of it made sense to him to begin with, the senate's ideas about opening the granaries to the plebeians. They wanted to let those cretins take resources of the city into their own filthy hands, and for what? Because they cried like infants and claimed they were starving? They did not deserve such privilege to go and march, but rather they should have been grateful for their lot. Take it up with the gods themselves, if they have such a problem.
He had never wanted to be in politics. If it were up to him, Caius would simply lead another campaign, perhaps one that would kill even more barbarians than the one that earned him the title of Coriolanus. But his dear mother coaxed him into running for the Consul. He saw the gleam in her eyes when she narrated tales of how all of Rome would be at his feet were he to be elected, how he could have unlimited power. Out of the devotion that he once bore towards her, Caius honored her wish. and after quelling two stupid riots from Brutus, he finally won.
The memory slowly returned to him as he slowly felt his eyelids grow heavy. When the results were announced, his mother expressed so much emotion that she embraced Caius over and over again, ordered for a banquet, and even bought him a new slave to aid him in his duties. And that was how you entered Caius's life. You were made his personal slave to accompany him to meetings, collect things on his behalf, and keep his study clean, to name a few of your duties.
"Dominus (master)?"
Caius's eyes flew open. You placed a cup of water before him, with one hand gently perched upon his forearm. Once he was fully awake, you quickly removed your touch and went to light a candle in another part of the room. Caius could only gape as the small flame illuminated the room, allowing him to finally see all of you. Wearing a sleeveless red and orange stola, you delicately placed the candle far away from any parchment. 
"You were falling asleep at your desk, my lord. Shall I bring some food for you?" You politely asked, turning to him.
"No."
"Wine, dominus?"
"It won't help."
With a quiet nod, you went about tidying any papers or quills that were strewn about out of place. Just then, Caius's voice pierced through the air like a sword. 
"Stop." He ordered. "Let me look at you."
You did as told, turning to face your master without flinching. 
Caius drank in every detail of you: the way your shoulders and chest lightly rose and fell with each breath, the way your eyes barely fluttered in his presence, and the way your lips…your lips, perfectly shaped, gently pressed together. You did not appear to fear him…nothing like his wedded Virgilia, who insisted upon weeping profusely whenever he came to her. He had thought that entering politics would assuage her fear for his mortality, but to no avail. Over time, Caius began to detest hearing Virgilia's sobs, as did his mother, and strangely found comfort in the fact that his work often kept him away from her. 
And as another blessing, you were given to him as a result of his entry into politics. You, who did not tremble before him, bearing the calm strength of a swan. You stayed awake to keep him company, while Virgilia never stayed for long in his presence. You silently stood without trepidation, while Virgilia wailed as if she were already a widow.  Caius curled his fingers, his breath ragged. You were better than her, more devoted. You were the one he needed close now…perhaps you would be a better Roman wife than Virgilia, though Caius knew he was getting ahead of himself. Still, Caius knew he wanted you more than he wanted any other woman in his life. He needed to touch you, to feel you, to…
"Go."
Without a word, you bowed and retreated. You untied your hair and took a deep breath. It had truly been a long day, and now you would finally get some much-deserved sleep. But just as you mustered a yawn, you were startled by a bright candle held close to your face. When you turned around, your eyes widened at the sight of your master, Caius Martius Coriolanus, holding the burning candle close to your chest. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, though you knew it was too late to scream.
Your eyes darted about the study, and you swiftly backed away…only for Caius to grab your wrist. You looked up and forced yourself to see the dark, mad glint in his tired eyes.
"You belong to me, remember that." Caius menacingly reached for your hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed the back of your knuckles, yet something about this seemingly courteous gesture felt…horrifying. "I will not hurt you," Caius whispered. "I need you."
"You need sleep, dominus."
Caius threw the candle onto the floor, causing the flame to disappear with a hiss.
"I don't like to play games, my lady," he gritted through his teeth. "I will have you, one way or another, and I will claim you as mine. I swear it by the gods."
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I’LL LOVE YOU IN EVERY LIFE WE LIVE—CHAPTER I
Chapter I: Creation Myth
(CAIUS MARTIUS CORIOLANUS, ADAM, PRINCE HAL/KING HENRY V, WILLIAM BUXTON, JAMES NICHOLLS, JAMES CONRAD, JONATHAN PINE & LOKI X READER)
Soulmates who meet in every life they live, they know without really knowing, that they belong together. Whether in the heat of battle or kneeling before the king; separated by time and death and other people, they always find one another. Love is the one thing they know for certain, even if they cannot be together, even if they are only together for the briefest moment. There will always be another life in which they will meet.
This Chapter: Religious context and background.
18+ READERS ONLY
WARNINGS: angst, smut (vaginal sex, fingering, oral—male & female receiving), character death (implied & described), violence, language
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In the Christian religion, it is said that God created Adam from the clay of the Earth, so that man would always have a connection to it. He took a rib from Adam’s own chest to create Eve—the love of his life. They lived in peace together, until the fall of man. They remained together for the rest of their hundred year lives, bearing children that would populate a desolate planet. According to the Bible, Adam and Eve made this place our home.
In our religion, Adam and Eve were created similarly from the dust of the Earth and Adam’s own breastbone, but instead of residing together in Eden, our god put the lovers on opposite ends of the Earth, so that they might find one another, and grow in that journey. While we have a deep connection to the Earth that we were formed from, our souls return to a place of pure light, to rejoin our soulmate before we are born again. Over the millenia, a couple may be reborn hundreds of times, connecting in life for many years or a brief moment. We may take more from the journey itself than our relationship with that person, but we are sure to meet them at least once—to touch hands and know, if only for a moment, that soulmates exist.
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stareyemoth · 4 years
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@marta-elentari and @actuallyfeanor thanks for tagging me guys!
Rules: Answer the prompts and tag some people
Shipping: Firesong = Fëanor x Daeron, Luthien x Aredhel, Galadriel x Melian, Maedhros x Thingol, Turgon x Egalmoth, Glorfindel x Ecthelion, Aziraphale x Crowley, Caius Martius Coriolanus x Tullus Aufidius (yes I just copied and pasted from you Cam haha), Maedhros x Fingon, could add more but that’s quite enough haha
Lipstick or chapstick: Chapstick usually, only wear lipstick rarely but if I do it’s bright red
Last song: “Foreigner’s God” by Hozier
Last movie: The Rise of Skywalker
Reading: 
1. “Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell” by Susanna Clarke
2. “When Women Were Warriors III: A Hero’s Tale” by Catherine M. Wilson
3. “The Art of War” by Sun Tzu
4. “The Guns of August” by Barbara Tuchman
5. “The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire” by Edward Gibbon
Tagging: @venussgirdle @noldorinlady @theresonlyzuul @rhovanian @nuredhel @lightandfireandsunhavegone @anyone if you wanna do it really because my brain is only half working for this tagging thing
Feel free to ignore, no pressure etc. etc.
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abs0luteb4stard · 5 years
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My spiritual war began half a lifetime ago. And I will carry it on even after I'm dead one day. Ω
Most people are raised with a religion or beliefs.
Some of them lose faith. Some become atheists. Some stay where they are in believing.
I I suppose I haven't fully stopped believing in a spiritual power/experience.
Call it the "God Gene" (VMAT2) or illogical stupidity, But I just can't purge that notion from my head.
According to the God Gene Hypothesis: "Spirituality is supposed to provide an evolutionary advantage by providing individuals with an innate sense of optimism."
I do not feel that optimism that there is a God or sentient universe out there. Or that "God has a plan".
I feel unspeakably betrayed.
When I was a young kid. I think I was very well behaved. I cared. I had a great heart. If that wasn't good enough for any god. Then they don't follow their own teachings.
When I got to middle school. I was scared. Three local schools were merged all my friends were lost in the shuffle. I thought it'll be difficult to make new friends, but I had hope.
Well, that hope wasn't lost. It was gouged out and raped from my spirit. Not just spiritually but my spirit of hope caring and goodness.
The bullying. They called me faggot, poor boy, foreigner (born here but was given a "foreign" name) on and on. They spit in my books. They knocked my books out of my hands everyday, between every class. Choked me, beat me, spit on me. There wasn't just a group, the group spread rumors and enlisted others in their attacks on me. Even my old friends from elementary school abandoned me because association with me was repugnant to their social standing. I once saw a buddy from elementary and said hello at his locker only to be ignored like I didn't exist.
Those 2 years of middle school left me completely empty. I remember I went to sleep every weeknight praying to die in my sleep. Ashamed at how that would hurt my parents if it came true. Then I would be woken up for school the next morning secretly crying because I was still alive and had to go through another day.
If there was a gun I would have gladly killed every one of those motherfuckers who were bullying me.
Especially Chas. He was the one who got the ball rolling on my destruction. How a dickhead who was seemingly proud of his failure of the 7th grade the year before I came there had such social clout with these pieces of shit I'll never understand.
High school was hell, but it slowly matured. Not without its own degrading moments where I was bullied or attacked or pushed down or spit on. But I think those who were there were preparing for their college or next step.
My grades were average. My spirit was broken already. My hope was nowhere. I was lucky to graduate probably.
I'm no longer normal. Those years of abuse at school changed me irrevocably. Everyday for 2 years. Non-stop. Physical, emotional, mental, pen tips pressed into the back of my neck till a bled. A pen cap pushed into my ear luckily it didn't hit my ear drum.
Principals, counselors, nobody did anything. Anything they did do was either a warning or giving me a punishment for retaliations.
I was punished for someone abusing me.
So I dropped out of local community college after a spotty 2 years. Continued schooling just came with anxieties and fear. I'd already had my life's share of that. I needed surgery and after I just let go of further education. Of a career of any kind.
Now I'm 33, soon to be 34. And these things that have effected me since half my life ago still affect me today. Call it C-PTSD or anxiety or trauma, social phobia, agoraphobia. It's all the same to me.
The bullies are gone but make no mistake theyre haunting me.
So where the fuck was God?
Where was his miracle for me?
Why didn't he spilt the red sea for me? I'm not as important as Moses. Where was his warning that I should build a boat like Noah?
No burning bush, no "hey Abraham, go kill your son", nothing. Not from this god or any fucking god.
Not once.
But some stupid genetic marker (VMAT2) anchors me to believe?
In the years since school I went through the divorce of my parents which was particularly hard if you knew me you'd understand.
My dad needed a 2nd open heart surgery which led to a big stroke from a clot that broke off. His arm and leg that were effected mostly came back. But his mind was effected permanently. The parts of the brain that were injured left him with memory problems. He couldn't live on his own, he'd already come back home with my mom and me before that to live with us after a hard hip replacement surgery.
Then I went through my mother's surprise lung cancer diagnosis, surgery, and so far no signs of it returning. Luckily it was found early after she had a cold and cough they wouldn't go away and got a chest x-ray.
Now my dad 4.5 years after his stroke and ongoing memory problems, he woke up yesterday the happiest man who ever lived, he had so much love and kisses and hugs to give.
But shockingly he completely forgot who I was. He thought I was a visiting neighbor. He forgot who my mom was. But he was happy to meet his son and wife for the first time again in this new place (it's the same place and the same people he'd always known before).
But I am crushed. I'm so deeply affected. He's happy and jolly enough for 3 people to meet us...
But my mom and I are very sad. It's such a shock. While he is thankfully happy and comfortable with his 'new family' that we are. I've cried more than my muted emotions have let me cry in the last 15 years.
He told me he's sorry that he missed being part of my life before now. Nothing cut my heart up quite like that. He apologizes for not knowing or recognizing me.
I've been betrayed by God all my life or at least that VMAT2 gene chemically telling my brain there's a higher power.
I'm just not important enough. No miracles to help me get out of this PTSD or my other medical issues. No reprieve from these life threatening illnesses my parents got one after the other. And now my father doesn't know who I am anymore.
Maybe god like those bullies just hate me too? If were created in his image then he's as capable of hate and torturing as we his human creations are.
After all he made a bet with the devil that Job in the bible would keep the faith in God no matter what god did to him. He gave him diseases, killed his livestock, killed his family with sickness, and burned down his house. But the dumb motherfucker still loved god.
He gave him all be house, animals and family after the ordeal, but the other wife and children didn't deserve to die for a bet. "But they went to heaven". They still had potential energy, lives to live grow old and have their own families, but "God" killed them to prove he was right in bet to the devil. That an idiot would still love him after all that.
So maybe I can't stop believing in God, or have some leftover spirituality.
But I'm not as fucking forgiving ad that dumb motherfucker Job. But I'm also not willing to just walk away from God's game. I'm more than ever cemented my hate for God. I'm giving the devil sympathy or joining his side. If there is such a thing.
I'm instead giving God - ALL MY HATE.
I've got infinite amounts of anger and hate in me. For every millisecond of my torture in school I hate those pieces of shit, at one point that was all that kept me from killing myself. I'm filled to overflowing.
Now there's nothing and no one I hate more than God. I don't care about abortion, I don't care about pollution, I don't care about animals raised in cages and mutilated.
My dad is apologizing to me for what his stroke did to make him forget me. He's apologizing to me with regret, shame and love in his eyes for something that's not his fault.
WHERE IS GOD!? hmm? His love and miracles? His bullshit?!
God. Guardian Angels? Any God or Goddess. Any religion, pagan gods, gods that we don't even know existed. Where are they? Spirits? Demons? Satan himself? Useless.
I have declared a war on God deep down in my soul. I'm not here to preach or change your religion, make you an atheist or garner views or to promote the devil.
But rest assured I am going to kill God. My determination is absolute.
Not in a social or political sense, I'm not going to become Nietzsche 2.0.
I'm going to prepare my heart and soul. My physical body, my mental attitude, my spirit, my soul. My life might go until I'm 120 years old and I'm fine with that.
But God will know fear because I will teach it to him. God has a death wish and I'm that wish come true.
You think Abu Ghraib looked terrible? What I do to God will make that seem like a Kumbaya summer camp.
I don't know what god is, what makes a deity, fucked if know if such a thing even exists. But I will torture, maim, and kill God.
These neo-pagans with their "All Gods are one God."
That's fine by me. Get the all Gods in one place so I can kill that motherfucker with a smile on my face. Even if he's holding the universe together, like Atlas holding the world. If it means the end of all things then I'm more than satisfied to end reality.
If there's a physical aspect to him on some spiritual realm or whether it's simply a psychic thought of the living mind or some genetic predisposed delusion. Maybe I've lost my mind too, maybe there's nothing left but my madness.
My wrath makes God in the old Testament look like a spoiled 3 year old child. God will get what's coming to him.
He is mine and I am his.
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"Nor sleep, nor sanctuary, being naked, sick, the prayers of priests, nor times of sacrifice shall lift up their rotten privilege and custom against my hate to Martius. Where I find him, were it at home, upon my brother's guard, even there, will I wash my fierce hand in his heart."
—AUFIDIUS; Shakespeare's "Coriolanus"
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"I'll fight with none but thee, for I do hate thee."
—Caius Martius Coriolanus; play of the same name.
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smolvenger · 2 months
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Dangerous Stubbornness (Caius Martius Coriolanus x fem! Reader Oneshot)
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Summary: Life as wife to Caius Martius Coriolanus has its benefits. You married him for stability, protection, and status- not to mention the delights of his bed. You expect to be no more than his dutiful wife. Yet...it seems perhaps there is something more there then all of that....
From @muddyorbsblr's request of Coriolanus with the trope "he flals first."
Word Count: 2954 (oop, she exploded from a blurb)
Warnings: There is smut, NSFW 18+ please refer to Dick-tionary (rougher sex, dirty talk I stole from Ana Huang's books, doggy style, some light dom/sub, voyeurism), a creepy sexual harasser gets what's coming to him, Caius being a grumpy angy babygirl sharko bite blorbo who actually is soft for his wife and is wrapped around her little finger, Reader uses Caius as scary dog privilege. Attempts at accuracy to Ancient Roman culture and characterization but at the end of the day it's about the wish fulfillment and the vibes. Lots of fluff. Grammar mistakes bc i just want to get. This. Shit. Done after the wild two weeks I've had.
Dick-tionary: Smut starts at "Three little words. That was all he needed." and ends at "You felt his breaths from behind you, his touch gentler against your arm." Use to your discretion.
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Taglist: @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
You were never afraid of walking through the streets of Rome because your husband walking behind you would scare all who dared to harass you. You would go about the streets, your veil fluttering on your head, smiling bright in the afternoon sunshine. Caius always had a frown and glare in his eyes that dared any fool to try to cross with you. 
The marriage was purely for status- you were a good woman from a respectable family. Yes, that was probably why it was arranged between your parents! They wanted someone with a good heart and reputation, and Caius only wanted a wife to manage his house and give him children. Why should you say no? Not that you were scared of him at all- for he never once was cruel to you. Perhaps curt and blunt on occasion, proud and stubborn- but he never bullied you. With his famous wealth, you would never go hungry. He’d be away in battles and you would be alone and be free to do as you wished for months on end. If he died in battle, you figured, the more the better! You would have his money and the freedom of a widow with the respect of his name. Besides, you weren’t in love with anyone and never thought any suitors would show interest in you. 
Such was one walk, early in your betrothal. One fellow had not heard the news or knew who you were and came upon you. Trying to touch you, invite you to dinner or the bathhouses. You kept refusing, he kept insisting.
Then, the braggart leaned over and grabbed your arm.
In about ten seconds flat was Caius, unsheathing his sword, upon the braggart, pulling him by the collar. You shoved him off and ran behind him. The man trembled as if Thanatos stood thundering before him.
“I shall be quick in work and send you to your death-do you understand, villain?”
He nodded, shaking. He already seemed to learn his lesson. You edged forward to your dragon of an intended.
“Please- don’t kill him, there are too many people out watching- just scare him!” you whispered to Caius.
Caius shoved him down. The man shook where he stood and you thought you smelled urine leaking from his bladder.
“If you ever as much as speak this lady’s name-I will kill you.” he threatened quietly.
The man, having learned his lesson, mumbled a whimpering “yes, dominae” and fled.
Since your marriage, and with your new status as a general’s wife, such incidents never happened.
As you peered about one stall in the market, admiring the fresh fruits offered, you smiled bright.
“Oh, how lovely these berries look! So ripe and fresh! Wouldn’t you agree, dear husband?” you asked.
Caius remained frowning, though eyed down the berries. The man selling them looked pale and kept eying the sheathed sword on Caius’s hip.
“They’re fine,” he said. His pride kept him from commenting further on a simple farmer’s wares. But you felt his eyes over your smile seeing them.
Caius lent his coin to buy you some. The trembling farmer scooped up some berries, and popped them into a little bag, and handed it to you. You thanked the farmer and paused to admire them.
You smiled at them, as if they were jewels in your hands. Then you tried a little handful, popping them into your mouth.
“Mhm! They’re delicious! Thank you, Caius,” you replied.
You leaned up and gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked, and his shoulders loosened down from the feeling of your lips. You could have sworn a faint pink was on his cheeks as he continued behind you- not that he dared smile or keep his guard down in public.
You thought it would be another ordinary quiet night. But Caius Martius was many things. Quiet and ordinary were neither of them.
At home, you wanted to rest your feet from all the walking today. Your loom was coming along and weaving it felt relaxing. As you sat, you heard footsteps. Turning around, you saw Caius standing there.
You stood up. “Husband? Is something the matter?”
“...no…” he said.
“Oh…then, what…what brings you here?” you asked.
“I wish only to sit, I have…scrolls to read.”
“This is, er, not the usual room for a man,” you said, taking note of the loom and embroidery, the flowers from the garden.
“I am going to sit and read. In this room,”  he said determinately.
Letting out an exhale, you relented.
“Oh- your mother is always right! Your dangerous stubbornness- oh, you are welcome here, Caius, dull as it must be for you compared to a fight with a Volsce…” you teased.
He made no answer. But you sat and weaved. Watching how the lines all came together and became one for the latest project.
Little did you know that his eyes were more on you than on the flimsy scrolls. Seeing your profile and your eyes over the work then the dusty work.
Though as you ate dinner, His eyes were on you, the neckline of your dress, showing your shoulders.  Your tempa mesa was presented, eaten, and sent away as was the meal. He moved closer, to sit beside you. You felt him move an arm around you. Speaking to you in soft tones.
 As a slave came in to take an empty bowl, you felt him close, he held up a hand. Talking about some silly complaint with the tribunes Brutus and Sicinia. But it was useless- he only wanted to touch your hand, trace it, and bring it to his mouth as his lips ghosted a kiss onto your palm. You took in a sharp breath as he did.
You felt your breaths become shallow and saw his eyes flutter boldly to your chest. He sat beside you, one hand always lying on your thigh.
“What…is this….”
“I only want to enjoy all that is mine- my house, my meal, and my wife.”
With that, he propped you upon his lap as the slave brought more wine. You felt yourself get warm, feeling him on you. Such…intimacy sent your heart aflutter. Though…after plates were cleared before he could tighten his arms to hold you, you slid off. He let you, his blue eyes widening.
“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you announced softly.
His hand was still on your skirt. As you walked away, the fabric pulled and then slid lightly off his fingers. His hand is still in the air as if still touching you.
You sat down before the vanity. Making sure your face was washed, you removed the jewelry you had. Smiling at how lovely they were. Gifts he still found to give you even though the wedding was some time ago. Gifts he still would give you.
The slaves were still around. They kept fanned cool air with peacock feathers. Played soft music on harps and little reeds and made sure there was always water for washing and kept about.
The door opened, and your heart beat hard as he got inside. You continued your nightly routine, removing the ring and necklace as well as the belt before you. Getting ready to change- and yet…here he was. A shadow in the corner. He walked up.
“Husband! My…I’m not in trouble?” you asked, slightly teasing.
“No…”
The servants all shot a look, he gestured at them to stay. To continue their business.
His arms wrapped around you slowly. Then, he laid his head down, looking at you in the mirror.
“But…I didn’t say I wanted this evening to end…” he breathed, he began to pepper kisses down your neck. His hands running down your arms.
“I said I was going to bed…not to sleep…” you said. Enjoying the teasing and playfulness. How you could still hold this mighty, fearsome warrior like wet clay in your hands.
He whispered into your ear for only you to hear.
“I’m going to burst if I don’t have you now.”
You grinned.
“Then have me,” you replied.
Three little words. That was all he needed.
He tore off your veil to where it flew down, fluttering like feathers. He pulled you in and kissed you. You moaned into it. His hands grew bolder, feeling down your sides. You moaned in response as he slid his tongue inside. You pressed yourself next to him, feeling his desire prod against you.
Then he was on you like an animal starved. At once he began to kiss you, cupping your face, keeping a hand on your back to keep you close. You waved a hand through his short, dark blonde hair. His own were going down to feel all over your skin, though his firey kisses never stopped. The man had a craving for you in the bedroom like no other. Not that you complained about it.
You took his hand and led it to your breast to squeeze.
“Caius…yes…more…” you moaned.
“You want more…” he replied.
“Yes- give it to me…” you asked.
“All of it…”
“Yes…”
“And you will take it?”
You looked into his eyes.
“...yes. I want more. Not like on our wedding night. I want it hard. And rough. I can take it. I will take it.”
At once he threw you upon the bed. Lush with blankets and pillows, rich and comfortable. He walked towards you, eyes filled with lust, his steps slow, his head tilted, but not smiling.
“When I take you, I want you to cry out. I want all of Rome, every plebian, every senator, every person, and every animal and god to know you are mine.
He was on you, feeling a hand on your leg and kissing you. You began to grind against him. The servants blushed and looked about, he gestured to them.
“Stay,” he ordered them.
They stayed.
“I don’t want you dignified. No, wife. Show your loyalty-” he moved his hands through your dress.
“Take off your clothes.”
“If you want me naked that badly- take them off yourself,” you dared.
He obliged.
You let a sound as he roughly reached into your dress and shoved down the sleeves. You began to let a sound, a gasp as it broke open. It nearly ripped it. Shaking, you helped remove his own clothes still on him. Amazed at though his chest was filled with those dark, bloodied scars, the muscles still on them. 
He smiled.
“Such a tongue you’ve grown to have on you, delicae,” he said
The music of the slaves continued, as did their fans. Though you could feel their eyes.
 Now you were naked in his room, feeling his hands explore all over you, one squeezing your breast as the other spread around your back, wrapping you in, fingers into your skin as if to mark you.
“Then shouldn’t I be punished?” you asked coyly.
He smirked as looked at you. Then he let the last of his clothes fall. Showing his impressive thighs and impressive cock so hard it dripped against his stomach,
“It was everything in me not to take you at that table…then we’ll make up for it…”
He half threw you to the study part of the room. There sat a desk.
“Lean over that desk.”
You obliged, heart beating hard.
“Spead your legs,” he ordered.
You opened your two shaking legs, your wet sex glistening before him.
“Put your hands on the edge,” he ordered in a rasp.
Two shaking hands of yours gripped the edge. He laid your hips up. Then thrust into you at once. You let out a sound. Then roughly, he began to take you. Pounding in, his large cock straining inside you. You let out a sound.
“Yes- yes keep that- you are- you’re mine, you’re mine now- now-say it-say. it.”
“I’m” you cried between his thrusts. “I’m-I’m-your-yours-you- gods!” 
He pounded into you with a fury. His own groaning increasing. It was so filthy, so depraved, and you loved it. You had to grip the edge tightly as he pounded into you. Grunting like an animal. 
The music from the slaves continued, as did the footsteps from their business. Harps continued on as Caius took you like a whore. You could feel them still watching everything. Wondering if they were frightened, aroused, amazed, disgusted, or all four at once. 
He began to growl to you between pounding you.
“So you-” 
thrust.
 “-never-” 
thrust 
“-forget-” 
He pulled you up by your shoulder to your ear. His voice right next to it, his cock and his voice overtaking you.
“You-” 
thrust 
“-are-” 
thrust 
“-my-” 
thrust 
“-wife.”
He reached a hand, finding your opening between your legs. The bud inside you, swollen and needy and overcome.  One large finger began to strum it and you let out a whimper feeling it. His large, long fingers could already play it so easily. He let you down, and you were gripping tight to keep from losing it all. You weren’t going to last long at this rate.
“Caius! Caius please-please-Caius-”
It was already crawling up, the desk thudded loudly, perhaps breaking if it weren’t so thick and sturdy. The slaves would know he was yours and you were his. That only he and you could bring each other this.
“Yes- cum, dammit, wife- cum for me, cum- just cum, cum with me-”
“Caius-caius! I- Caius-caiuscaiuscaiuscaius-” you repeated, feeling it break. Your voice gets higher until you let out a noise, as your climax hits you.
Then with a shout from him, the seed shot forth inside you. You moaned as you panted, catching your breath. He steadily pulled out. 
You felt his breaths from behind you, his touch gentler against your arm. One wrapped around you for protection. 
“Get her something to drink now!” he barked at the servants.
They nodded their heads and ran off. Caius with one swoop got you into his arms. You felt your breath light, almost dizzy with joy- he hadn’t done that since your wedding when he brought you to this house. You could still feel his strong arms supporting you so easily. He carried you over to the bed, settling you amongst the blankets. One slave brought a cup of your drink, and you sipped at it with both hands. He made sure a blanket was draped over you for a bit of modesty.
“What kindness…I never would have guessed you would have kindness in you…” you remarked.
“I…want to be honorable…” he said quietly.
He waved a hand, and the flushed slaves left, Granting you privacy at last. You saw Caius look at you, then glance down like a shy maiden.
This wasn’t like him.
“What is it?” you asked.
“What is what?” he asked.
“You and your dangerous stubborness! Well I have some in me too. You have enjoyed me. And you wish to speak of something, I can feel it. You can tell me. Is there something you want of me? A son? I’m sure at this rate, you’ll have one…” you urged, a hand consciously at your belly.
Caius tilted his head again, his hand moving you away from yours. But touching it softly. 
“It…isn’t that. What I have…you must think it isn’t for a man to say aloud,” he said
“But you must say it! Is something wrong? Are you ill? Is your mother ill? What did Menenius try to weasel you to do? Where are they sending you now!? Caius, Why not-”
He quickly got up and cupped your face. He spoke quick, plain, and to the point.
“I love you.”
You paused your breath tight and the room spinning
“You…love me?”
“Why did I ask my mother to arrange us married?”
It struck you.
“I was…am a virtuous daughter of a respectable family-”
He looked into your eyes.
“I’ve loved you the day I met you. I wanted to have you as my wife or no one.  I couldn’t resist you if Diana herself ordered me to.”
Struck silent, you saw his face soften. The orange glow of the candlelight making him that more beautiful. 
“When…when did you know for sure…did Eros really strike the moment you saw me ”
“I…I remember it was- it was the race for the senate. All the crowd gathered to see me speak, to see the consul. I tried to ignore you there, and I could not. I was in denial all that time. But seeing you-when you looked at me, and smiled, I forgot it all. I didn’t want the seat. I wanted you. Honestly, I don’t know when it happened. But it did. And yet- all at once I-I-”
He paused.
“Maybe it was when we were betrothed. Maybe I walked with you to the markets. Or when I saw you there. Maybe it was every dull dinner and banquet I had to attend, that I still went, hoping to see you. To just see you…”
He caught himself.
“But no…I think most of all…it was each time I spoke to you. And you knew of me….and now …”
He touched your hand and you brought it to your lips, kissing it tenderly. You almost saw a tear drop despite the stillness of his face.
“I know what I am. And I thought you should hate me. Beyond whatever duty you may feel to me as your husband-”
“Caius, I don’t hate you. Not at all.”
“Then…could you-”
“I could learn to love you, and choose to love you, Caius.”
You pulled your face to his and kissed him. Then you tucked yourself into him, embracing him as you both lay on the bed. Not just as husband and wife, but as two people deeply in love.
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smolvenger · 22 days
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Birthday Blurb Masterlist! Updated 4/7/24
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Since for my birthday I asked for blurb requests, here they are all neat and tidy! Some of them are one-shots, but I wanted them somewhat organized! The overall theme was a trope in books with the various Tom Hiddleston characters!
Loki
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The Honeymoon Phase Loki x Reader (Loki with "my wife.")
Summary: Amidst returning to work at the TVA, Loki is thrilled about his recent marriage to you.
Prince Hal
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Rain Within Doors- Prince Hal x Reader (Prince Hal with "Touch her, and you die!"_
Summary: When the king falls ill, your betrothed, Prince Hal, returns.
My Lord Prince Hal x Reader (Prince Hal Love Confession)
Summary: After you dance with another man, Prince Hal, your royal intended has a confession to make... (SMUT)
Henry V
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The Prince of Wales- Henry V x Reader (Henry V with first baby ((a boy)))
Summary: You have your first baby as Henry V's wife and queen a boy. You are relieved to finally provide him a male heir. But he is happy that you now have a baby together.
His Queen- Henry V x Reader (Henry V with "touch her, and you die!")
Summary: You are reunited with your regal husband during his conquest for France.
The Little Princess- Henry V x Reader (Henry V with first baby ((a girl))) Coming soon!
Prof! Hiddleston
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In A World of Boys, He's a Gentleman Prof! Tom x Reader (Prof! Hiddleston love confession)
Summary: Collapsing into tears after a hellish week, your professor boyfriend confesses he loves you.
Caius Martius Coriolanus
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Dangerous Stubbornness- Coriolanus x fem! Reader (Coriolanus with he falls first)
Summary: Life as wife to Caius Martius Coriolanus has its benefits. You married him for stability, protection, and status- not to mention the delights of his bed. You expect to be no more than his dutiful wife. Yet...it seems perhaps there is something more there then all of that.... (SMUT)
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr@asgards-princess-of-mischief
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smolvenger · 4 months
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Time for Carrie's Birthday Celebration Starting 01/07 and going on until 01/12!
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Helloooooo friends! My birthday is January 10th (turning 29), so I thought we could do a little thing! Let's do a *drumroll* BIRTHDAY CELERATION SLEEPOVERRRRR!
A fun little light hearted thing!
Tell me about or send me these emojis for...
something you’re looking forward to!! 👀
about what you’re reading/watching 📖
your pet(s) <3 🐶🐱🐰🐹
your go to shoes/jacket/accessories 👟
ANYTHING!! 🕸
songs (rn or all time) 🎵
comfort film, show, or read (+ favorite scene) 🧸
animal (+ when’s the last time you saw one) 🐢
bad joke or reference (+ if you say it often) 🙊
FMK! 🍑🔪make me pick and I'l do the same for you
would you rather?
never have i ever… 🖐
MASH 🏡
confessions: 💭
Or ship me with someone or a character (if it ever gets to our boy, Loki, pick a specific era) and I'll ship one with YOU
I am also opening BLURBS based on several of these blorbos so give me a character or person and I will write a blurb based off of Fanfic/Book Tropes!
Characters I am willing to write for:
Loki (ofc)
President Loki
Jonathan Pine
Robert Laing
James Conrad
Prince Hal/Henry V
Sir Thomas Sharpe
Caius Martius Coriolanus
William Buxton
Professor! Tom Hiddleston
So pick one and one of the following BookTok/Fanfic tropes:
"Who did this to you?"
"My wife"
"Touch her and you die"
AU: Modern, Tudor, Regency/Austen/Bridgerton, anything
Arranged Marriage
Enemies to Lovers
Friends to Lovers
He falls first
First Date
Proposal
Wedding
First Baby
Love Confession
Meet Cute
Forced Proximity
And There Was One Bed!
Grumpy x Sunshine
With any of these, if you want, you CAN request the blurb be on the spicy side and I will oblige, heheheh
I don't know what my birthday will bring and I don't want to feel lonely or the pain of not accomplishing enough and getting older so let's make this a fun one!
@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 @loz-3 @liminalpebble
Masterlist for my works can be found here.
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smolvenger · 8 months
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Hi guys- life has been stressful and anxiety inducing so to distract myself...I am opening requests for the week of 9/10-9/17!!!!!
Be aware requests take time for me and I will likely be slow and I might get distracted, so you can always remind me. Think of it like cooking in the oven- it will take more time but be extra yummy. But you can ask for headcanons, drabbles, or smaller one-shots.
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I will write for x reader with a lot of characters I've written for in the past, including...
Tom Hiddlestons' characters including...
Loki Laufeyson
Prince Hal/Henry V (The Hollow Crown: Henry IV and V)
Jonathan Pine (The Night Manager)
Thomas Sharpe (Crimson Peak)
Dr. Robert Laing (High-Rise)
Cpn. James Nicholls (War Horse)
William Buxton (Return to Cranford)
Caius Martius Coriolanus (Coriolanus)
James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island)
Jaguar Villain! Tom
I'll include Prof! Hiddleston as a character, bc why not.
I can also try writing Bucky (like I did in the past) or Steve Rogers!
I do accept Smut requests, just assure me you are over 18. If you are ever unsure about something, don't be afraid to ask.
Some things I will not write:
I will not write the cheating trope if they cheat on each other or with each other. Just, no. I have literal panic attacks over media with cheating in it.
I will not write non-con. Dub-con I can still do, but non-con, no way.
I will not write three ways or multiple partners. I don't know how to do it write and I don't find it as compelling or sexy as others do.
I will not write anything regarding Stepfather! Character x Reader. Please nothing like that.
I hate The Essex Serpent and find it triggering so please do not ask me to write Will Ransome x Reader unless it's a fic where he gets beaten up for cheating on Stella and my poor little meow meow Stella lives happily ever after, I know plenty of other people here who would be perfectly happy to write for him and who take requests, you can always ask me.
No incest requests, please.
Other than that, for this week, go wild! I will close requests 9/17 11:59 pm EST!
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr
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smolvenger · 2 months
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Greetings bestie! Here's blurb 2 of 4 for ya…
Caius Martius Coriolanus + he falls first
spice optional
and here's some ✨inspiration✨
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*slides in* helloooo there bestie!
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I am back to getting these requests done now that I have gotten a show and auditions complete- and I couldn't resist this because Coriolanus is my babygirl.
Ta da! Here it is! It exploded into a oneshot but- oh well!
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MASTER LIST
My fics are strictly 18+ reading, and are all housed on AO3. Not all fics contain smut, but for the safety of everyone, please be aware.
Fics with smut in 1 or more chapters will be marked with a (*).
If you’re interested in being tagged on any/all fics, please send me a message and let me know!
I typically write for Tom Hiddleston and characters he’s played, as well as Chris Evan, Seb Stan and associated characters. I dabble in Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington things as well. 
If you send in requests I might just write them, but please give me time to do them justice.
💜
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TOM HIDDLESTON
The Only Heaven I’ll Be Sent To Is When I’m Alone With You*—Updates Sundays
(TOM HIDDLESTON X READER) Father Thomas Hiddleston is a good priest, satisfied with the life he'd chosen more than ten years ago. His faith wavers but there's little else in his life to keep him from God's work. Until his childhood sweetheart walks back into his church after more than ten years of staying away. You're engaged to be married, unaware that Tom is now a priest at the church you intend to be married in. When you realize, it's a struggle to keep all of your long held feelings for him at bay. Will you go through with your plans to marry your fiancé, or will you give in to the longing you've felt for Tom all these years? And in doing so, will you pull Tom down into sin with you? Chapters: (Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) ) (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4) Playlist & Moodboard
Drunk & In Love*—One Shot
(TOM HIDDLESTON X READER) Your friends convince you to stay for one drink after work, and when you see actor Tom Hiddleston looking uncomfortable with another woman, you think saving him will be the perfect exit strategy. Instead, you end up helping him escape a blind date.
B R E A T H E—One Shot
(TOM HIDDLESTON X READER)
Tom hates the dentist, so when he breaks a tooth and needs to visit the oral surgeon, it's terrifying. But as his nurse, you attend to him surprisingly gently.
LOKI
Careful Creatures
(LOKI X MATT MURDOCK) A confused Loki seeks out his friend Matt for some comfortable silence. He gets slightly more than he bargained for.
Technicolor Dreams
(LOKI X READER) The reader invades Loki's dreams literally and figuratively.
Cities to Ash*—One Shot
(LOKI X PREGNANT READER)
You’re in the last few months of your pregnancy, and doubt fills your mind—how could Loki want someone so big, who’s constantly worn out just from living? Canceled dinner plans spur a conversation about these feelings, where Loki makes it clear that nothing could ever make him stop wanting you.
Your Heart Is Like Glass*—Coming Soon
(LOKI X READER) You are a whore, bound to the Shining Pearl since the time of your birth. But a year ago a strangely handsome man with money to spare started seeking your attentions. You cannot seem to shake your affections for him, though you know his presence is always temporary.  It's temporary because he’s a prince, and when he marries he’ll no longer be able to dabble with his favorite whore. But his favorite whore has become more than that to him, and Loki desperately seeks a solution to both of your supposed prisons. Chapters: Playlist & Moodboard
ADAM (OLLA)
What You Could Have Meant To Me*—Coming Soon
(ADAM X READER) 500 years and life has not lost its light, though it dims from time to time. Vampires as a touchy breed and you avoid them for the most part, save for your old friend Adam. You meet from time to time in foreign cities, but when an exhibit at the Met reveals old letters written but never sent, you’re both drawn together again. You’ve kept your feelings for him secret for a long time. Will he be able to draw them out, or will you spend the rest of your lives never knowing the truth? Chapters: Playlist & Moodboard
Your House, My House*—In Progress Series
(ADAM X READER) It’s been six months since you and your boyfriend Adam broke up, but you’ve moved into his house after your roommates decided to move home. It’s an awkward situation, at least that's what everyone on the outside sees. But despite being broken up, Adam is still your best friend and the one person who knows you well enough to push you when you need it most. Can you two cohabitate as friends, or will the pressure of being so close change things forever?
Parts: (1)
Playlist & Moodboard
TOM HIDDLESTON CROSSOVERS
I’ll Love You In Every Life We Live*—In Progress
(CAIUS MARTIUS CORIOLANUS, ADAM, PRINCE HAL/KING HENRY V, WILLIAM BUXTON, JAMES NICHOLLS, JAMES CONRAD, JONATHAN PINE & LOKI X READER) Soulmates who meet in every life they live, they know without really knowing, that they belong together. Whether in the heat of battle or kneeling before the king; separated by time and death and other people, they always find one another. Love is the one thing they know for certain, even if they cannot be together, even if they are only together for the briefest moment. There will always be another life in which they will meet. Chapters: (Ch. 1) Playlist & Moodboard
BILLY HARGROVE
‘Cause In The Dark There Are No Strangers*—In Progress
(BILLY HARGROVE X STEVE HARRINGTON) Steve and Billy like to fight—they hate each other, except they don't, not really. A chance encounter one rainy night could change everything, but that doesn't mean they're not still the same people. Love can lift you up, but it can also tear you apart. Chapters: (Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4) (Ch. 5) (Ch. 6) Playlist & Moodboard
There’s Something Inside You; It’s Hard To Explain*—In Progress
(BILLY HARGROVE X READER) Billy is a broken boy, all sharp edges and bloody knuckles. You are a quiet girl, too soft for your own good. You hate each other. (They don't hate each other.) He's so soft for her, has been since high school and after a slightly drunken night reveals some secrets neither one of them ever thought would see the light of day, they have to deal with what comes next. Chapters: (Ch. 1) (Ch. 2) Playlist & Moodboard
STEVE ROGERS
& At Once I Knew, I Was Not Magnificent*—Coming Soon
(STEVE ROGERS X JAMES BUCHANAN (BUCKY) BARNES) Gurnsey is a German occupied British isle, one that hides a dark secret. After crashing his plane and losing his copilot, James Barnes is captured and forced into labor; the same can be said for Steve Rogers, a lost British naval lieutenant. They find themselves in dire straights, the only thing holding them together—each other. Can they survive, escape even? Or will they die at the hands of their enemies? Chapters: Playlist & Moodboard
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