#Caracalla

[cherubimcore]

golden bars, fragile hearts

pairing: caracalla x reader

author's note: i have been working on this fic for a while but lately everything i write i kind of hate, i'm editing this so much i'm getting insane (also college doesn't help) so i decided to finally post it or this fic would stay on my drafts forever 😭

this is part 1!

the sun blazed down on the colosseum, the bloodstained sand reflecting its golden light making

the day feel more heated than anticipated, you remembered hearing on your way to the amphitheater that this was one of the hottest days of the year, that statement felt quite right as you walked the busy streets, sweat dripping from your nose wishing you had drank a glass of water before leaving your house, but your thoughts were elsewhere completely when you stepped outside. you would think that the heat would be a hindrance for the festivities that the people of rome looked forward to, but somehow that didn’t mattered, it didn't mattered for the bloodthirsty emperors, caracalla and geta, the infamous twins, that loved violence and brutality more than the people they should rule and it also didn't mattered for the crowd, the thought of seeing a gladiator fight was worth passing out from heat stroke, apparently.

you could hear their roar, a mix of jeers and cheers that echoed off the stone walls, from your seat you stood frozen hearing their excitement, your heart pounding against your ribs waiting for the moment your father would step into the arena.

you had promised yourself you wouldn’t go, your father made you promise when the praetorian guards came at your door saying the emperors demanded that the man that had won his freedom many years ago would fight again one last time to prove his worth.

when they utter those words you were the one that wanted to fight, fight the guards, fight the emperors and protect the only family you had left, but before you could deliver any profanity, your father lowered his head and expressed how honorable he was to entertain the people of rome once again.

he looked back at you with teary eyes, taking in the simple yet comforting house he was living in even before you were born, the one he worked so hard to build after he bought his freedom killing others just like him, spoils of war, it was poetic really, he thought, his life began as a gladiator and would end as a gladiator, a little chuckle left his lips, the gods really did worked in mysterious ways.

while you tried to come to terms with his decision, your father kissed your forehead lovingly and made you promise you wouldn’t watch before being taken by the praetorian guards.

and you agreed.

but now you were going against your dad’s dying wish.

your jaw tightened as you stood among the roaring crowd, people chanting and cheering for the gladiators, cheers that were as empty as the promises of rome’s twin emperors.

caracalla and geta ruled not through love or respect, but through terror and empty entertainment. the streets of rome were restless, simmering with rebellion that never seemed to fade completely. just weeks ago, riots had broken out in the forum, citizens torching statues of the emperors while shouting for justice. but now, here they were, packed into the colosseum, their rage momentarily silenced by the lure for bloodshed.

‘panem et circenses’ you thought bitterly, watching how easily the crowd forgot their oppression, the chants growing louder as a gladiator fell to his knees ‘bread and circuses are all it takes to dull their anger for a few hours’

but when the games ended and the blood was washed from the sand, the discontent would return. the people would rebel again - you were sure of it - because no amount of free grain or violent spectacles could suppress the desperation in their hearts.

you hoped the emperors were afraid for their heads because sooner or later the act of depredating their statues won’t be enough.

rome was a city on the edge, and your father was about to become its next distraction.

that was the first thought that crossed your mind while you saw your father walk towards the middle of the coliseum.

his gait was uneven, his shoulders hunched - not from cowardice but from the toll of age. the once-celebrated gladiator, who had won his freedom fairly, was now back at being paraded as nothing more than a relic for the crowd’s amusement.

he held his sword steady while raising it to salute the emperor’s box, but you could see the way his hand trembled. your father’s movements were slower than they once had been, but his pride remained unbroken.

your heart clenched. this wasn’t a fight - it was a death sentence.

the announcer’s voice boomed across the arena “behold! a veteran of rome’s might, returning for one last dance with death! will he rise as a lion, or fall as prey?”

the gates on the opposite side of the arena open, and a younger, stronger gladiator stepped forward, his muscles gleaming with sweat, his expression cold and unyielding.

you couldn’t let this happen.

you ran from your seating, hearing people behind you screaming to take your place closer to the bloodshed, pushing past every guard that standed if front of you especially the guards who blocked the lower level of the arena, you ignored their shouts and protests, they couldn’t catch you, too surprised to see someone run towards the arena of the colosseum, instead of run from it. every step felt heavier than the last as your decision bore down on you.

but you didn’t stop.

the sand was hot under your feet and your clothes were sticking on your skin as you stumbled onto the arena floor, drawing the collective gasp of the audience.

your father dropped his sword as his head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with panic.

“get out of here!” he shouted.

but you didn’t listen. you ran to him, your heart hammering in your chest, and threw yourself in front of him, spreading your arms wide as a shield.

the younger gladiator paused mid-step, his brow furrowing in confusion.

the crowd erupted in chaos, excited with something they had never seen before, someone willing to protect a gladiator from their deathbed.

high above, the emperor’s box stirred. you felt their gazes on you, your breath quickening showing your nervousness for having the attention of the infamous rulers of rome on you, but you didn’t back down and stared right back at them in defiance.

caracalla, one of the twin emperors, rose from his seat, the ornate red fabric of his toga trailing behind him as he stepped to the edge of the balcony.

“what is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut through the noise.

you almost didn’t listen to his words because of your own heart pounding heavily on your rib cage making you nauseous, for a moment you were sure you would pass out.

you ignored the nausea building up and the tremors in your limbs, looking up to the emperors with a steady voice, despite the fear you were feeling, you managed to say “i’m here… to take his place!”

a murmur rippled through the crowd. your father grabbed your arm, his grip strong despite his weakened state. “what are you doing?” he hissed.

without turning to him, you said loud enough for everyone in the colosseum to hear. “i won’t let them kill you!”

caracalla’s piercing gaze locked onto yours seeing determination on them, his expression went from furious to amused in a matter of seconds. “this is… unexpected,” he said, his tone laced with mockery “tell me then, what makes you think you’re in a position to bargain with me?”

“i’m not here to bargain,” you said, raising your chin, your voice cracking a little when you heard your father behind you, pleading with the other gladiator to get you out of there “i’m here… to offer myself. you want a spectacle, don’t you? my father is an old man - he’s no longer fit to fight. there’s no honor in his death. but me?” you gestured to yourself, your voice rising. “i’m young, untrained and foolish enough to face whatever fate you decide, i’m sure that’s far more entertaining than this.”

emperor geta, seated beside caracalla, chuckled “they have a point, brother, he doesn’t look like the legend we heard so much about” his fingers tapped the rim of his wine cup. “besides… they have spirit. i’ll give them that”

caracalla’s eyes narrowed as he studied you, his expression unreadable. the silence stretched, the weight of his decision hanging over the arena, like a storm cloud.

“bring them to me,” he commanded.

the guards dragged you up the steps to the emperor’s box, their grip firm on your arms to the point of bruising. you stumbled to your knees before caracalla, his imposing frame over you as he stepped closer.

you had heard so much about both emperors, how cruel and unhinged they were, how their reign would be marked in history by decadence, cruelty and chaos, a spectacle of blood and tyranny.

geta was the one everyone thought about when the matter was diplomacy, for he had a talent for weaving words as deftly as a spider spins its web. his voice, always calm and measured, could diffuse tensions or spark them, depending on what suited his ambitions.

geta could be terrible, but to you caracalla was far worse.

a man consumed by his appetites - for control, for blood, for the fleeting thrill of domination. his wrath was as unpredictable as it was unrelenting, unlike his brother, caracalla acted impulsively, driven by bursts of rage, if he felt insulted in the slightest- the emperor would order a village razed.

or several.

you considered him a monster.

a beast.

and nothing could change that.

“you would trade your life for his?” caracalla asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“yes,” you said without hesitation, lifting your gaze to meet his. “my father has served rome for long enough, let him go and take me instead”

“and what makes you think your life is worth more than his?”

“it isn’t” you answered honestly “but i’m still young enough to be at your service, i’ll do anything if you leave him alone”

“anything, you say?” caracalla’s lips curled into a faint smirk “even entertaining me?”

you shivered with the implied meaning of his question, but remained silent.

geta leaned forward, his interest piqued.

“perhaps we should keep them, they're a bold one, brother”

caracalla regarded you for a moment longer, his cold calculating eyes searching yours. then with a sharp nod, he gestured to the guards.

“release the old man, you are going to stay”

your father’s protests echoed beneath you as he was dragged from the arena, but you didn’t look back.

“welcome to your new life,” caracalla said, his voice dripping with mockery. “let’s see if your spirit lasts as long as your courage.”

the emperor barely had finished his sentence when you felt the guard’s ironclad hands gripping your arms once again with a force that left no room for argument, you could feel caracalla’s cold eyes following your every move as you were dragged from the arena, his lips curving into a smirk as though he has claimed a prize rather than a person.

please leave a like or a comment about what you guys are thinking about this fic! i'm kind of insecure with this one :(

[imasexypotato]

*Geta and Caracalla skipping stones at a lake*

Geta, gently: This is nice

Caracalla, whispering: Take that you fucking lake!

[sweeteststing]

Ovulation is so bad, i need to fuck them both

[whereisyourpippinnow]

Emperors watching the games in the Colosseum.

Gladiator II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott | » requested gifset by @where-the-stars-collide

[belossyy66]

Bro helping bro

[trulyumai]

to love an emperor

—: pairing - caracalla / wife! reader

—: synopsis - Caracalla the disastrous, caracalla the mighty. thousands would cower down and pray in fear of such a man, but you? you offered love and kisses upon the head.

—: warnings - none. pure fluff for the soul.

—: an - is it a little off character? oh yeah. but the man needs more soft love and I am here to provide.

not everyday was caracalla affectionate. he was moody sometimes— angry at you even when someone else had provoked him.

but tonight?

tonight he couldn’t stop adoring you; you had no idea what had gotten into him. caracalla was never this affectionate, at least without jealousy or a beverage involved.

“do you love me?” the man mumbled, it was muffled against your skin. his breath was warm and sticking to you without delay. “of course,” you hummed, slipping fingers into the crown of his head, gently guiding your fingers through the soft and messy locks.

instantly Caracalla folded, the candlelight bounced of his face and illuminated each shadow and crevice with purpose. he was handsome, you certainly couldn’t deny such a fact. his eyes were soft, a light pink and red hue danced around his eyelids as the rest of his skin lay pale and untouched.

his lips were a little chapped, proof of him picking and biting them after todays timeline

“—you?”

Perking up, your mind cleared. You hadn’t even realized you spaced out until the jumbles of his words came to.

“I’m sorry, my love, what was that?”

the man beside you shuddered at such an endearment. He felt so warm, so comfortable in your presence.

“I said, do you know I love you?” Letting out a quiet snicker, a nod was given. “of course, I see it in your eyes, husband.”

Caracalla frowned, confusion blotted his features. “My… eyes?”

Soft fingers glided against his cheek, to which he leaned into trustingly. A thumb traced the underside of his eye, gently tracing random shapes and letters unconsciously.

“Mmh, you look at me the way Dondus looks at his snacks, my love.”

He couldn’t help but let out a bubble of laughter. wrinkles began to form around his eyes from such a joyous action, however his vision never faltered from admiring your blushing face. “I’m serious! You— you do!”

“Angel, what an odd way of phrasing such a thing!” Joining him in the barrage of giggles, you slumped onto him, digging your chin into the crevice of his neck.

“You’re not much of a poet, even I could have thought of better,”

You gasped, with hands now holding you upright on his chest a mischievous glint was caught in Caracallas eyes. “You jest, husband, surely. I’m more of a poet than you could ever be!”

“Oh?” The emperor challenged. Already taking advantage of this new position, both arms wrapped around your waist, prohibiting you from moving even an inch away.

“Mhm! Don’t you remember the last full moon? The festivities— the worshipping I gave—,”

A big, warm hand stopped you from going further, covering the entirety of your mouth and a giggle burst against the skin.

“I am more than aware of such a night, quiet it down before someone hears you.”

Although the walls were thick, and no one would ever think of disturbing such high power; there was celebration below, citizens from far and near joined in tonight’s merriment and Caracalla didn’t need anyone hearing of such a frivolous act between the two of you.

Feeling particularly bold, a light nibble was given to the man. Startled by such a sharp pain, the hand was removed and you were (temporarily), free to do as you pleased. Not sparing even a moment, your lips brushed against Caracallas ear with mischievous purpose. “Don’t you want them to know im yours? Have me scream your name in pleasure—“

“Careful,” The ginger seethed, already shuffling uncomfortably under you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, wife.”

“And who said I couldn’t finish, husband?” Suddenly, a grip was bestowed onto the back of your neck, pushing you forward until your soft lips collided with rougher ones.

Submitting into him, you allowed the pushing and shoving of his tongue, the way his hands pulled at your robes and squeezed each open crevice of skin they could find.

Caracalla quickly pulled back, a string of saliva followed suit and a dazed— hungry look was swimming in his vision.

“Angel?”

Your hands shakily moved across his form, undoing and untying his garments haphazardly.

A wet hum left you, you were so busy with the action you failed to notice his eyes upon you.

And how in love the man looked, felt while beside your side.

His eyes, half lidded and flooded with affection never faltered.

The way you looked in the moonlight, how the silk you were wearing was slowly dragging down your shoulders messily.

Your braids were undone, pulled in every which way from Caracallas hands—and your face?

Gods, there was a reason he called you angel.

No one looked as beautiful as you, and he doubted such a being ever would.

“I love you,” finally the words left him— shoved their way out like spilled wine upon cobblestone.

You smiled, big and wide.

“and I you, my love.”

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

[gaysmex]

I like him, i like the autistic man 💝💖💞🩷❤️🧡💛💚💖💝💘💘💋💌💟💌

[anthemias]

Emperor Caracalla ↳ Gladiator II

[lucian-the-werewolf]

[where-the-stars-collide]

Some small fun facts that we have learned about Geta and Caracalla from "Gladiator II":

Geta is the eldest although Caracalla argues that he was conceived first since he came out last (I don't know the logic in this).

They had an abusive father.

They aren't particularly educated. They didn't recognize Lucius' lines from Virgil who was one of the most famous Roman poets.

They attend orgies together and they share their concubines.

They were getting high by using various kind of drugs of that time.

Caracalla is a bi king.

He has also shown to be attracted to Lucilla.

According to Joseph Quinn, Geta knows the fragility of his position and the fact that he doesn't deserve this power but uses means of intimidation to control the people. He's also afraid of trusting others.

Caracalla suffers from syphilis and lead poisoning which in turn have caused him dementia. One of the make up artists confirmed that he also battled acne.

Geta was not unfamiliar with Caracalla's physical abuse against him and he's even calm about it.

Ridley Scott believes that Caracalla was a forceps baby. And that was a dangerous practice back then as it could damage the baby's head.

According to Fred Hechinger, Geta and Caracalla have a need to be "taken care of" and "they want to be held". So they have a desire to be loved.

Days after, Caracalla couldn't remember that he killed his brother.

[trickstersmagic]

my first meme for 2025

[vyoongi]

Caracalla asking about Geta. Gladiator 2 | deleted scene

[sweeteststing]

I'll be crying if you are looking for me

[whereisyourpippinnow]

Geta and his concubine watching Hanno's fight

Gladiator II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott | » requested gifset by Anon

[multific]

All Real

Emperor Caracalla x Reader

Summary: Driven by madness and manipulated by Macrinus, with a blade in his hand, Caracalla heads to Geta but he finds you instead.

"My Love? What are you doing?" you asked with a worried tone as you noticed the blade in his hand.

"I'm going to kill him. Where is he?"

"Why would you?" but just as you asked you noticed a shadow behind him. "Macrinus... I always knew it."

"She must be sleeping with your brother." you heard him whisper to Caracalla.

His eyes looked foggy and filled with tears. It worried you.

"Is it true?!" Caracalla yelled. 

"If you believe his words, you might as well kill me. I have been nothing but loyal to you, My Love. I have always been there for you and I will continue even if you kill me right now but please I have to ask you to come back to me and realise what is happening here. You are being manipulated." you begged but neither of you moved.

"You lie! You love him!" his hands frailed as he cried and yelled.

"You own my heart and soul. I belong to you, Caracalla. Please, My Love, put the knife down." 

Caracalla's eyes filled with fresh tears but so did yours.

"Please." you begged with a whisper. 

Your sweet voice seemed to break the curse he was under as he turned and stabbed Macrinus in the neck. It all happened so fast.

You watched as he looked at his shaking hands. 

"Wife, I'm so sorry. He... His words- He manipulated me. Oh, look what I have done." his hand reached out to you. Silently begging you to forgive him.

You took a step towards him and allowed him to hug you.

"I told you to always remember when you feel like you are losing it." you reached up and cupped his cheek, your thumb cleaning his tears. "I know Geta threw a drink at you and yelled at you, My Love. But killing him will not fix it all. I'm here to help you."

"I'm sorry." he said it again.

This is when Geta bursts into the room.

"What happened here?" he asked as he looked at the two of you with worry filled eyes. 

"Macrinus attacked me. Caracalla saved me." you explained.

"I will take care of this, go and rest." Geta said.

The two of you retired to your chambers.

"Why didn't you tell him?" your husband asked.

"He doesn't need to know."

"Do you hide things from me too? Things I don't need to know?"

"Of course not. You are my beloved Husband. I do not have anything to hide from you." you took a deep breath before looking at Caracalla. "I won't tell Geta what your true intentions were today because it will not achieve anything but hate. Tomorrow I will speak to the people in hopes of calming them. It will ease your mind as well as Geta's."

"What will you say?"

"I will tell them Lucilla sent Macrinus to kill me. The people will be on our side again."

"I didn't know my wife lied so much."

"To protect you? I would kill. I would lie to the Gods themselves because I love you."

"I'm sorry for doubting you."

"It wasn't you. It was Macrinus playing with your mind. I'm glad he's dead."

"You never liked him."

"But I love you." you said and just as the people outside quieted down, Caracalla embraced you in a feverish kiss.

The two of you spent a night of passion allowing your bodies to become one.

While it was true, you might lie, but you never lied to him. You never faked your love for him.

It was all real.

Gladiator II Collection

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