#emperor caracalla

[areyouscaredyet]

caracalla irl liked to wear blond wigs and I think we need to talk about this

(source: Wikipedia lol)

[inseparabiles]

we're brothers. I always protected you, because I love you. come back.

[anyplaceisparadise]

Has this been done yet

[ekkkkey]

Hey! Back when I was reading twbg! I didn’t think Caracalla had actual feelings for Cassandra it felt more like fun / revenge / obsession / desire

But now in vestal??

Bro’s straight-up yearning for a dead girl? He’s lowkey mourning her??

It’s deranged. It’s tragic. I love it.

It is. It’s so twisted, and that’s what makes it great.

When the "little bird" enters his life, whatever he feels immediately twists into something ugly.

Not because she means nothing to him, but because he doesn’t know how to love, not in any real, healthy sense. He feels drawn to her, intrigued, even enchanted, but he doesn’t know where attraction ends and destruction begins. He confuses passion with power, desire with rage. And every time something tender stirs in him, it sparks anger instead: "You make me so angry, little bird" not because she’s done anything wrong, but because she makes him feel.

He wants to possess her. Control her. Make her belong to him. His idea of "love" doesn’t allow freedom. It contains no care, no softness, no sacrifice. Just the urge to take, to keep, to break—if that’s what it takes.

That’s why he speaks of her "fragile neck"—not because he truly wants to kill her, but because the fear of rejection, of being insignificant, twists into a need to destroy.

If he can’t be close to her, he’d rather destroy her.

And when she’s gone, it’s not release—it’s a trap. The feelings remain, but there’s nowhere to put them. This isn’t love. It’s obsession. A sickness in the shape of attachment. He doesn’t know how to let go. Not even death is enough.

So now he’s still chasing her ghost—in voices that sound a little like hers, in faces that almost match. In Livia. Who resembles her in so many ways… but isn’t her. And never will be.

[ygelita]

Loving You

Characters: Caracalla x F! Reader *Y/N*

Synopsis: Caracalla as a Father (Headcanons)

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Fluff, Angst, Possessiveness/Control, Parental Overprotection, Power Imbalance, Codependency, Toxic Devotion, Emotional Manipulation, Mild Hints of Grooming Behavior (Terms of molding children into idealized versions of himself & Y/N)

✧ Fiercely protective of his children, especially because they are the product of his love with Y/N; he sees them as living extensions of her.

✧ Spoils them endlessly, not just with riches and luxury, but with attention and affection — despite his status, he makes time to be present in their lives.

✧ Keeps a close watch on their caretakers, tutors, and guards — no one is allowed near them without thorough vetting. He’s paranoid about betrayal, even within the palace.

✧ Overly affectionate in private, often hugging them tight, kissing their foreheads, and telling them stories about their mother’s beauty and grace.

✧ Has a soft spot for their smiles — one grin from his child can calm his rage, stop a war council, or delay an execution.

✧ Trains his sons personally (if he has any), insisting on teaching them combat and strategy. He wants them to be strong and capable, but his lessons are always laced with emotion and pride.

✧ Admires how Y/N parents and often sits back to watch her interact with their children, utterly captivated by the tenderness she brings into their lives.

✧ Can become unreasonably jealous of the attention the children get from Y/N, especially when he feels left out or ignored. He wants her all to himself, but he reins it in for their sake.

✧ Gets emotionally overwhelmed when he sees his children showing traits of Y/N — a laugh, a gesture, a look — and it fuels his obsessive devotion to his family even more.

✧ Uses his power ruthlessly to protect them, threatening entire provinces if any harm comes close to his wife or children.

✧ Tells bedtime stories laced with Roman myth, glory, and tales of undying love — usually with a not-so-subtle resemblance to his and Y/N’s relationship.

✧ Dreams of immortality through legacy, not only in empire but in bloodline. His obsession with Y/N makes him treasure their children as sacred.

✧ Absolutely crumbles when they’re sick or hurt, demanding the best healers and refusing to leave their side until they’re well again.

✧ Instills a twisted sense of loyalty — he wants his children to love him, yes, but also to need him. His love can be smothering.

If he had a son…

✧ He sees his son as a living piece of Y/N, and therefore guards him with the same obsessive devotion — no harm, no distance, no disobedience is tolerated.

✧ Combat lessons double as bonding rituals — Caracalla insists on training his son personally, not just to shape a warrior, but to keep him close and dependent.

✧ He gets possessive when his son seeks comfort from Y/N, often inserting himself between them with a forced smile, as if needing to prove he’s just as essential.

✧ He whispers to his son at night, calling him “my legacy” and “the son of a goddess,” turning bedtime into something between a blessing and a vow.

✧ Any trait that reminds him of Y/N — a laugh, a look, a phrase — causes him to freeze, his heart aching with a twisted mix of love, longing, and obsession.

If he had a daughter…

✧ She is his little empress — Caracalla dotes on her like she’s made of gold, treating her with a reverence usually reserved for Y/N alone.

✧ No man is ever good enough, not even as a child — he’s irrationally possessive of her affection, and the idea of her marrying one day fills him with dread and rage.

✧ He spoils her with everything, but what he treasures most is when she clings to him like she does to Y/N — it feeds his ego and his obsession.

✧ Any resemblance to Y/N unravels him emotionally — her smile, her eyes, her laugh — it’s like falling in love all over again, and he often stares at her in stunned silence.

✧ He calls her “my heart in another form,” and he means it — she’s the softer, innocent mirror of his love for Y/N, and he’d tear down empires to keep her untouched by the world.

If he had both…

✧ He calls them “her legacy,” and treats both children as sacred extensions of Y/N — his son as her strength, his daughter as her soul.

✧ He enforces different roles: trains his son like a future emperor and shields his daughter like a divine treasure — but both are held equally close, equally untouchable.

✧ He demands unity between them, often saying, “You are blood of the same goddess,” and becomes furious if they ever fight or turn on each other — loyalty within the family is non-negotiable.

✧ His obsession makes him controlling, even over small things — who they play with, what they learn, how they speak — because they carry Y/N’s name, and perfection is the price of being hers.

✧ He watches the three of them — Y/N, their son, and their daughter — like a man watching a dream he never wants to wake from, desperate to preserve the illusion of a perfect, eternal empire built from love and obsession.

[prettycalla]

|| errorum ||

Pairing: Geta/Reader

Summary: Geta will not ask for what he wants. (Request prompt)

Word count: 1.5k

Tags and warnings: Mostly fluff, another round of Geta having no idea how to express his feelings, Caracalla is a menace, brief mention of alcohol, no use of Y/N.

If you were granted the power to change just one thing about Geta, it would be this - he will not ask for what he wants. He will imply, infer, hint at, but he will never ask.

You understand what has made him like this, through the slivers of information he has allowed you to glean from him. He had to quickly leave the freedom of boyhood behind in favour of learning how to oversee an entire Empire. You know of the care he has provided for his brother - the care that he still continues to give. He has learned from too young an age to command, to order, to rule. He has long since forgotten how to ask.

To ask is to be vulnerable, and that he cannot abide.

He has changed much since you have come into his life, of that you are very aware. But there are times when you wish that he would allow himself to be vulnerable with you. To ask of you what he needs.

Too often he will lean in close to you, close enough for you to feel his warmth, his breath on your skin, and he will hesitate. You wait patiently, hoping that he will give in. But then the moment passes; he retreats, and once again you are left cold.

You are understanding, but you grow tired of this constant ambiguity.

It reaches breaking point one evening, though not of your own doing. You sit under a large canopy in the luxurious Palace gardens, where you have been for much of the afternoon. The sun is beginning its descent, for which you are grateful, as the heat has been cloying.

Caracalla has been keeping you company for the past hour or so, regaling you with one of his adventures. You have always found him to have such a way with words; never does he leave you bored. You are gradually making your way through the cup of sweet wine in your hand as he talks, reclined in a well-cushioned chair. Certainly a pleasant way to spend an evening.

Your husband joins you soon after, and you straighten yourself a little, pleased to see him as you are. He looks at you for a moment, as if he wishes to say something, before seemingly thinking better of it and seating himself at your side.

Caracalla lets out a giggle, but says nothing. Geta glares at him in response, before turning his attention to you.

"This is where you have been," he says. "Indulging my brother in his ridiculous stories."

"They are not ridiculous," you reply, smiling at Caracalla as you do so. "I happen to enjoy them."

"Perhaps you would not be so uptight if you allowed yourself to indulge, brother," Caracalla adds cryptically.

Geta's nostrils flare in irritation at his words. You take another sip of your wine.

"No bickering, please," you interject, in an attempt to keep the peace.

Geta does not hear you, or rather, he does not want to.

"What, exactly, are you trying to say?" he asks his brother. "Out with it."

"How cruel you are to leave a woman such as her wanting," Caracalla says. "You would deny yourself such pleasures, whyever for?"

You look between the two of them, biting your lower lip in apprehension. You know that it would be in the best interests of everyone present to end this squabble before it goes too far, but something stops you.

Caracalla has always had an interesting ability to know what people are hiding, and he will happily spill it across the floor for all to see. Such is his way. It is something you have always admired about him - when it is not you he has set his sights on, of course.

“Unlike you, I am able to act with decorum,” Geta snaps. “And I can exercise restraint.”

Caracalla laughs at that, a loud, brash sound that has Dondus chittering grumpily on his shoulder from where she had fallen asleep.

“Restraint?” Caracalla echoes, “Brother, you are repressed.”

The look on Geta’s face is nothing short of murderous. Caracalla, in contrast, looks absolutely delighted.

“Your wife thinks so too."

He focuses his attention on you then, his blue eyes bright with mirth.

“Do you not?” he asks.

You had been in the midst of taking another sip of wine, and now you dare not take the cup away from your mouth. Two pairs of eyes are now entirely focused on you. To say it is intimidating is an understatement.

“Well, wife?” Geta presses, with a bite to his tone. “Is there truth in what he says?”

Slowly, you lower the cup. You cannot quite meet Geta’s eye. Caracalla giggles again, thoroughly amused, as he rises to his feet.

“I believe I am no longer needed,” he says as he reaches up to scratch underneath Dondus’ little chin.

“How kind of you to figure that out by yourself,” Geta gripes, fidgeting with one of his rings.

Caracalla gives you a knowing smile before he disappears back into the Palace.

The gardens are eerily still now, as if Pluto has silenced the life that dwells within. You have never felt more uncomfortable in your life.

Geta is the first to break the silence.

“You will speak to my brother before me now, is that it?” he asks, his eyes still focused on watching his ring turn over and over.

“Of course not, I have told him nothing,” you reply honestly. “He has a…strange sense for these things. Surely you must know it better than I.”

Geta scoffs. “Sense. He does not know the meaning of the word.”

You place the cup in your hand on the table next to you and sit up, moving a little closer to him.

“Husband,” you say gently, resting your hand on his arm. “Talk to me.”

“What is there to say?” he asks in turn.

He is avoiding you. You are all too familiar with this, and yet you press on.

“Much, I would imagine,” you say as you watch him continue to fidget.

You lay your hand over his. He stops then, turning to you.

"There is much you do not tell me," you murmur. "Your heart is heavy."

"He fills your mind with such nonsense," he retorts in irritation.

"They are my words, Geta," you tell him. "Mine.”

Another silence falls across you both. The sun has almost completely set now, and a small breeze rustles through the leaves of the surrounding trees. You shiver.

"What is it that you want me to say?" he asks after a time.

"I want to you to stop denying yourself what you want," you say. "Put your pride aside. There is no need of it here."

He does not answer as he stares ahead, brow furrowed as if deep in thought. You do not push him. The last thing you want is the thread of trust you have so carefully woven between you to snap.

He licks at the corner of his mouth nervously.

“I cannot-”

He pauses, his voice laced with frustration.

“It is improper for me to-”

Again he falters, an impatient sigh escaping him as his jaw clenches.

How you wish to gather him in your arms, to hold him close to you. But you know that it will do more harm than good right now. Instead, you stroke the back of his hand with your thumb in a gentle rhythm.

"It is not weak to want," you say softly.

Geta swallows, his expression anguished. He is at war with himself.

To ask is to be vulnerable.

"May I...kiss you?" he asks at last, voice thick with emotion.

A wide smile spreads across your face at his words.

"You may," you gladly reply.

Without a word, he takes your face in his hands. You can feel him trembling against your skin, and you reach up to place your hands over his, to ground him. His gaze flickers over your face, as if he is trying to memorise every little detail of you. You do not rush him.

Finally, finally, he leans in, his lips pressing against yours. Tentatively at first, until your patience wears thin and you pull him closer, your hands sliding around to the back of his neck. A shiver runs through him at your touch, and as if something inside him has snapped at last, he surges forward, kissing you harder. His teeth nip at your lower lip and you gasp. How bold he has become. You are certainly not complaining.

Only when his hands begin to wander do you stop him. You reluctantly pull away, very aware of how flushed your face feels. The look Geta is giving you does not help matters in the slightest. His pupils are blown wide, already dark eyes almost eclipsed by black. His lips are parted, little breaths dusting across your skin.

"Perhaps this is not the best place," you tell him.

"I could not agree more," he replies lowly.

He stands then, taking your hand and all but dragging you to your feet. A breathless laugh escapes you as you follow him into the Palace, to your chambers.

You must remember to send Caracalla a little gift for his meddling.

(banners by @ cafekitsune)

[getagirlie]

GETA & CARACALLA — MAMA I'M CHASING A GHOST.

[abundance-of-fic-reblogs]

So like we know Macrinus had Geta's head but what did he do with the rest of his body?? 😭

With how Geta's death was seemingly kept secret from everyone in the movie until Macrinus was ready to do his dramatic reveal to the senators, I'm just imagining the servants going to wake Geta in the morning and he's just gone and no one has seen him for probably like half a day and they're just like "um we're missing an emperor...?? Oh we're not supposed to talk about that? Okay". The servants probably came across that bloodbath that was left after his murder and had to clean it up and were connecting it to Geta's disappearance and were like "I am not getting involved in this 😬".

But again where was Macrinus hiding the rest of the body at? Like did Macrinus just roll him up in a rug to take the body elsewhere or did he shove it behind some curtains or something 😭 How did no one suspect anything apparently? I know the Praetorians were busy with the riots the night Geta died but did any of them wonder where's the emperor they're supposed to protect at? How quickly did Macrinus get rid of the body for Caracalla to forget as quickly as he did that Geta was dead? I wish we got to see the direct aftermath because I wanna know how Macrinus talked his way out of what Caracalla just witnessed. Did he kill Geta and was immediately like "okay Caracalla time for bed, you're seeing things, Geta is just sleeping 😊".

[fredshroomz]

The heartbreak I am feeling for The Characters is unparalleled. I am not intelligent enough to directly contribute to the conversations about headcanons of disorders or observations of symptoms, but by god i have THOUGHTS that have to go somewhere. I’m playing with my toys in the corner while the big kids talk about even sadder shit.

Caracalla and Geta (supposedly) had so much going for them. But being raised without peers, surrounded by people who answered to their abuser, and only having each other, cut off every chance they had to grow into healthy, functioning adults.

(under the cut, canon-typical child abuse cw)

Geta always had someone who needed to be looked after. Caracalla always needs someone to look after him. The parentification of Geta, who is just a boy that wants to protect his brother, has stripped him bare and left him strung out like a broke single mom despite being the god-emperor of Rome. And Caracalla never had a chance to learn independence. Never got far when stepping out of Geta’s arms into the world he was protected from. Every hardship is brought to his brother, and Geta obliges because they know no other way.

They are cruel, never having learned of suffering besides their own. God knows what their mother went through. What the slaves went through.

Hell, what if they were the only victims of their father? The knowledge that others do not understand your pain, that other people seemingly ‘deserve better’ because they are not a target, oh, it’ll ruin a person.

The grief-laden conscience that asks ‘why was I the target?’ ‘what is so wrong about me as a person that i deserve this?’ ‘why did nobody ever protect me?’

I’m sure there’s resentment in Geta that he refuses to acknowledge or accept. Of course he can’t loathe his brother that is his entire world, he is his guardian! The very notion eats away at his skin. He was Caracalla’s protector, and what now? What now, since their father is reduced to ashes and the world belongs to them?

And how many times did Geta stand between Caracalla and their father, and how many times did their father swing directly at Geta when enraged with Caracalla? … Both options bad and would break a child in different but no less fundamental ways.

[gothicloverdream]

Giuliano Mariano: "I mean the Inspiration for them, which of course Ridley wants them with the same colour, both of them, with this strawberry blond, which we need a few stage of colouring to reach exactly the right blond. We fit them as well. So going by what Ridley was asking, which was as well an inspiration taken from Johnny Rotten from Sex Pistols, and you can see this clearly on one of the emperors, with the hair more spiky, the one where you were saying before the animal was picking something from his hair. They were playing well. The process of that was really nice because when at first we started, both actors were a bit like scared because, of course, it's such a big change of look for hair and makeup as well. But luckily then they embraced the idea and slowly we get where we really wanted to be with them as well, something very strong and powerful, but keep them as well a little bit different. So there is one that is kind of more Roman and wavy style, all the hair going forward, and the other one more like spiky and crazy and playing a lot with his hair as well, and that was very very fun to do. The look was incredible. For us, for me and Jana, it was very important the actors were happy with that, so they actually enjoyed it, and you can see that on set as well."

Jana Carboni: "They really embrace it. I mean like Giuliano said, of course Giuliano and I worked very closely with each other, and like Giuliano said, they have to run different tests for the colour because then they have to match the makeup base I was working on, so it was a nice and strong connection between Giuliano and I to make the vision look very great altogether. I guess for me the goal with them was making them look almost like that kind of white, translucent colour of those crisis in the Caravaggio painting, which is almost like pearly, almost like ghost is a real colour, and I want the audience to actually see the makeup, because when you were in that kind of powerful position as an emperor, you were wearing your makeup almost with a braveness, almost like a subtle symbol, and like it was interesting because although there were similar base and similar like vibe, there are two different kind of makeup. So, for instance, Caracalla was more like kind of soft and peachy, and we put this little kind of Pro Bondo on his skin because we want to have that feeling, almost like old scar from the acne and some cuts from the monkey, a little scratch if you notice. So for him was more about covering up that skin, and again more like soft, more Orientalist. And Geta was actually more vain. So the way he was wearing the makeup was to look beautiful and material, and then like Giuliano said, it was lovely to see them embracing the process and actually making the makeup their own makeup and their own style and see even different scenes, especially like when there is the battle between Marcus Acacius and Lucius. You can see like Geta is really going for it, and because almost going trance, when they said, 'The God has spoken', and it's like this kind of black eyes and have to look a little bit of off as well, and they love it, and I said to them, 'For me, the biggest compliment was the fact that you trust us and you enjoy it and embrace it.' It was lovely. It was really really lovely."

Giuliano Mariano & Jana Carboni on Emperor Caracalla & Emperor Geta's Hair and Makeup: GoldDerby

[littledozerdraws]

casually posting ship art before the movie's even had it's public release 🫡

[inseparabiles]

Hey, I wanted to ask you, do you think the twins had that sibling rivalry that is depicted or more so implied in the movie and the script ? Because I have seen your replies and thoughts to things about the twins, and you don’t seem to think there was rivalry (I love your replies and answers about them tho). I personally think there was but nothing too dramatic, maybe they had a slap fight (I can totally image that) or ‘fight’ but never really with the intent to really hurt each other, sibling type of fighting.

Oh, absolutely. I think it shows more in our fics, but I genuinely don't think there's one moment in their lives when they aren't a breath's width away from bickering and trying to one-up each other. It's always something. Caracalla sees Geta's posturing and enjoys nothing more than trying to take him down a peg, because he knows how much that gets under Geta's skin, and it deliberately annoys him how much Geta will self-aggrandaise, both because it's annoying and he knows how big of a loser his brother actually is, but also because it's always directly a threat to his own status and power.

Meanwhile, everything about Caracalla gets to Geta. He's always on edge trying to figure out where his brother's going to go next, trying to predict the unpredictable, and enduring the ceaseless debasement of their status and standing in front of everybody when Caracalla acts on his whims and goes with his impulses without giving one damn about how it affects anybody else, least of all Geta. And he is tired of his brother's antics, and tired of being the manager of them.

In their best moments, they're perfectly in sync and one twin seems to just complete the other in ways that come to neither as an invasion or an encroachment, like they are so inexplicably in the deleted scene with Lucilla. They're literally finishing each other's sentences, barely exchanging glances while the other speaks, keeping up with the cadence and rhythm of each other's approaches, and building from it.

Most of the time, though, they're just trying to not overtly clash. And it's a lot of trying, because they clearly infuriate each other all of the damn time.

I think violence was beaten out of Geta, more or less, during their childhood and early youth; it'd take a lot to get him into an actual physical altercation that wasn't explicitly about trying to protect them. He'll only use force with Caracalla when he absolutely has to. Caracalla, though, I don't think he's immune to it. Which, in canon is actually remarkably absent - like Geta, he'll never take a physical shot at his brother for anything. It seems to come to him as an utter surprise that he was capable of crossing that line at all when he cuts Geta's hand, and you can see about 20 million fireworks going on in the background as he processes what that means for them. He's been building up that resentment for so long - but even then, I don't think he's been too careful about other gestures, like bumping into Geta when he's leaving the room in anger, or kicking him under a table, or elbowing him in the arm. But there's definitely been a line that can't be crossed between them that has been so firm and so absolute that it completely shocks Caracalla when he discovers that it is a boundary that can be broken between them. And I think even that has been off-limits to Geta, that kind of petty physical contact to show his displeasure. He leaves the room once when he's just too fucking mad to stay put, at the Colosseum, and even then he slinks off like a shadow. He's very careful about how he uses his body.

I think it might solely be because they've never left their father's shadow. The violence was their father's domain and between them, they had to restrain any expression of it, even any expression of anger at each other, because their experience of conflict was their father beating them up. And I think this lack of open communication, the inability to argue safely, is what makes them so hateful towards each other at the end. There's never been a chance where they could actually face each other and have a conversation about the things that they're doing that are hurtful to one another or which are immensely annoying, so instead, it's this passive and brewing pressure under the covers that festers like an infected wound.

But god yeah do they bicker. And there's always that threat from the other, and the competition, the perpetual tug of war for the power and respect, that "I was conceived first, therefore I am the emperor" vs. "first out is what matters". They've been going at this since their birth - literally - Caracalla sees that very event as the first instance where one of them tried to take the other out for his own gain and benefit. It has always been there, and it isn't just the normal sibling bickering and rivalry, either, though they engage in that in plenty too - but the full scale of it is serious and it's deadly.

They're only safe with each other because they don't consider other options, and the second they do, it kills them both because it is immediately out of control and they never get the chance to mend that rift which has been exposed between them.

[ohveda]

I have realised there might be people out there who haven't yet heard there is a Discord server for Caracalla/Geta shippers. It's been a while since the link was last posted.

If you are insane about the twins and want to join us in being insane about them, please let me know!

[cottoncandiescupcakes]

Gladiator II: this a manly movie for MEN

Has: pedro pascal playing a general daddy, paul mescal in barely any clothes, joseph quinn in three different kinds of eyeliner, fred hechinger playing a sick baby with a pet monkey

Do you even KNOW women lol like at all

[ygelita]

Gentleness

Characters: Caracalla x F! Reader *Y/N*

Synopsis: Caracalla confesses his intense love for you to Geta, not knowing you’re secretly listening—until you step out and reveal you heard it all.

Warnings: Obsessive & Possessive Behavior, Emotional Intensity, Mild Dark Themes, Romantic Tension, Eavesdropping, etc!

A quiet Roman garden at dusk, behind the palace walls. Geta sits sipping wine, while Caracalla paces, eyes shadowed with something deeper than usual pride or malice. Hidden just beyond the colonnade, you (Y/N) listen, heart caught in the hush of his words.

“She’s not like them, Geta.” Caracalla’s voice was low, almost reverent. He rarely spoke this way—without venom, without steel. “Not like the painted women who circle the court with eyes as sharp as daggers and souls thinner than parchment.”

Geta raised a brow, intrigued. “You speak of her again. Y/N?”

“Yes,” Caracalla breathed, as if even her name was a secret prayer. “She moves like she doesn’t know the world watches her. As if Rome itself isn’t burning to taste her shadow. Do you understand what it does to me, Geta?”

“You sound like a man possessed.”

Caracalla stopped pacing, turning his gaze toward the horizon. “Possessed?” He let out a breathless laugh. “Perhaps. But not in the way you think. It’s not just lust or longing—it’s… peace. When I look at her, I forget the weight of the empire. The whispers, the blood. When she speaks to me, it’s like I’m not the son of Severus. I’m just… a man.”

Geta’s expression softened for a moment, curiosity bleeding into concern. “Do you love her, brother?”

Caracalla’s jaw tightened. “Love is too weak a word for it.” He turned, eyes dark and burning. “She is mine. Not in name, not in law—yet. But in spirit. I know it. The gods know it. I see it in the way she hesitates before leaving the room, like she wants to stay. In the way her hand lingers when it brushes mine.”

From behind the column, your breath caught. You hadn’t realized you were holding it. Every word struck like lightning, soft and aching and wild. He thought you didn’t see him—didn’t feel him. But how could you not? His gaze burned hotter than the Roman sun. His silence screamed louder than any legion.

“I would raze cities for her,” Caracalla continued, quieter now. “I would poison oceans, bleed senators dry, damn the Senate and the gods themselves if they stood between us. And yet… I’ve never touched her.”

Geta looked up, surprised.

Caracalla clenched his fists. “Not once. Because she deserves gentleness, and I was not made to be gentle. But for her—I would try. I would tear the cruelty from my bones, carve a better man out of myself with my own sword if it meant she’d smile for me and mean it.”

Silence.

Then Geta smirked, swirling his wine. “And yet, I wonder if she knows.”

From your place in the shadows, you stepped into the garden light, voice barely above a whisper:

“I do now.”

Caracalla froze, eyes wide as if the very gods had descended. His breath left him slowly, reverently—as if your presence was both a miracle and a curse.

He hadn’t meant for you to hear. But oh, you had. And now, nothing could ever be the same.