#gladiator 2 geta

[kassy-djomunson]

Geta, Geta, Geta….

[niku30]

Love that freaky ginger !!

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Bound by Affection Part 2

Emperor Geta x healer!reader x Emperor Caracalla

Warnings: Fluff, rivalry between siblings, Caracalla being sick and more himself from the movie

Authors Note: this is now based off of what we see pretty much in gladiator 2. I know the first one wasn’t the Geta and Caracalla we know, but this one is more like the Geta and Caracalla We know now

Masterlist | Previous 

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+  

The balance within the palace was fragile, each day bringing new challenges that deepened the complexity of your relationship with the two emperors. The shifts in their behavior were subtle at first, but you noticed the cracks forming beneath the surface.  

Caracalla’s once-boundless energy had waned. He still sought your company, his charm as sharp as ever, but there was a heaviness in his steps, a pallor to his skin that he couldn’t hide. His free-spirited nature was giving way to moments of brooding reflection, his illness creeping into every aspect of his life.  

“Don’t fuss,” he muttered one evening as you pressed a cool cloth to his fevered brow. His voice was weaker than usual, though he tried to mask it with a smirk. “You’ll spoil me, and then I’ll never let you leave.”  

“You’re in no position to argue,” you replied softly, brushing damp curls from his forehead.  

He sighed, his hand catching yours and holding it in place. “If you leave, the palace will turn to stone, and I’ll be the first to crumble.”  

The vulnerability in his voice broke your heart, and you leaned closer, pressing a kiss to his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Caracalla.”  

Across the palace, Geta was changing too. The carefree, charming young man who had once filled the halls with laughter now carried himself with a quiet strength. He had taken on more responsibilities, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension brewing around him.  

One afternoon, as you found him in the library poring over scrolls, you couldn’t help but notice the shadows beneath his eyes.  

“You’ve been working too hard,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.  

He looked up, his hazel eyes softening at the sight of you. “Someone has to, especially now.”  

“You don’t have to bear it all alone,” you reminded him.  

He reached for your hand, his touch grounding. “I know. You’ve been my anchor through all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

---  

The turning point came one fateful evening when the three of you sat in the palace gardens, the scent of jasmine heavy in the air. Caracalla leaned heavily against you, his energy waning despite his efforts to hide it. Geta sat across from you, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.  

“I hate this,” Caracalla muttered, his frustration palpable. “Being weak. Being watched. Every moment, people waiting for me to fall.”  

“No one’s waiting for you to fall,” you said, your voice gentle but firm.  

“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, though the anger in his voice faltered as he looked at you. “Not you.”  

Geta’s gaze shifted between you both, his jaw tightening. “You’re not weak, brother. You’re just human.”  

Caracalla scoffed, though there was no real venom in his tone. “And you? Are you human, Geta? Or have you already ascended to perfection?”  

The jab hung in the air, but Geta didn’t rise to it. Instead, he leaned forward, his voice steady. “I’m doing what I have to, for Rome and for us. I suggest you do the same.”  

Caracalla’s laughter was bitter. “Spoken like a man who’s never felt the weight of mortality.”  

You squeezed Caracalla’s hand, drawing his attention back to you. “You’re both carrying different burdens, but that doesn’t mean you have to face them alone. I’m here for you—for both of you.”  

Geta’s eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension dissolved. “You’re too good to us,” he murmured.  

---  

As the weeks passed, Caracalla’s condition worsened, his sharp tongue and unpredictable moods becoming more pronounced. There were days when he barely left his chambers, his illness sapping him of the vitality he once wielded so freely.  

Geta, meanwhile, grew more composed, his presence a calming force in the palace. He had stepped into the role of leader with a grace that belied his youth, though the strain was evident in the quiet moments he shared with you.  

One evening, as you found yourself alone with Geta in the gardens, he finally let his mask slip.  

“I’m losing him,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You placed a hand on his arm, your touch steadying. “He’s still here, Geta. And he needs you now more than ever.”  

“I’m not sure I’m strong enough,” he confessed, his hazel eyes clouded with doubt.  

“You are,” you said firmly. “I’ve seen it in the way you’ve cared for him, for Rome, for me. You’re stronger than you know.”  

He pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you as though you were his lifeline. “Don’t let me fall, amica mea.”  

“You won’t,” you promised, your voice muffled against his chest. “I’ll hold you up, just as you’ve held me.”  

---  

The palace was a different place now, the once vibrant halls shrouded in a somber quiet. But amidst the challenges, the bond between you, Geta, and Caracalla grew stronger, forged in the fire of shared struggles.  

Caracalla, even in his weakened state, refused to let go of his playful charm entirely. On one rare good day, he cornered you in the library, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  

“Tell me,” he said, leaning against the table, “what did I ever do to deserve someone like you?”  

“You mean besides being endlessly stubborn and impossible to deal with?” you teased, earning a weak laugh from him.  

“Exactly,” he said, his grin faltering as he looked at you. “You could have walked away a hundred times by now, but you stayed. Why?”  

“Because I care about you,” you said simply. “Both of you.”  

“And we’ll never let you regret it,” Geta said, stepping into the room and resting a hand on your shoulder. His calm presence was a stark contrast to Caracalla’s fiery energy, but together, they balanced each other—and you.  

As you stood between them, you knew that despite the challenges ahead, your bond was unbreakable.  

---  

The empire was shifting. Whispers of discontent stirred in the Senate halls, and the weight of leadership pressed heavily upon the two brothers. With each passing day, the strain on their relationship grew, their once-shared camaraderie fraying at the edges.  

Caracalla’s illness worsened, his temper becoming as unpredictable as a storm. His moments of charm and levity were fewer, replaced by bouts of frustration and melancholy. Yet, in his rare good moods, he was still the same man who could make you laugh with a sly comment or warm your heart with a fleeting touch.  

Geta, meanwhile, was transforming before your eyes. The carefree dreamer had hardened into a composed and calculating leader, his every action measured and deliberate. His affection for you remained constant, but his moments of vulnerability became rarer, hidden behind a mask of imperial duty.  

---  

One night, you found Caracalla in his chambers, staring out at the city. The soft glow of oil lamps illuminated his pale features, and the tremor in his hands as he gripped the windowsill did not escape your notice.  

“Caracalla,” you said softly, stepping into the room.  

He didn’t turn, his voice bitter as he spoke. “The city sleeps, unaware of how fragile it all is. They praise us as gods, but look at me. A god who can’t even stand without trembling.”  

You approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re no less powerful because of this illness. Your strength isn’t just in your body—it’s in your spirit, your will.”  

He turned then, his dark eyes searching yours. “And what happens when the will fades too? When all that’s left is a hollow shell?”  

You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. “Then you lean on the people who love you. You’re not alone in this, Caracalla. I won’t let you face it alone.”  

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the vulnerable boy he once was peeked through the cracks. “You’re too good for me,” he murmured. “Too good for either of us.”  

---  

Geta, ever the steadying force, had thrown himself into his duties with relentless determination. He spent long hours in the Senate, navigating the treacherous waters of Roman politics with a sharp mind and unwavering resolve.  

You found him late one evening, still seated at his desk, scrolls and reports spread before him. His head rested in his hand, exhaustion etched into his features.  

“Geta,” you said gently, setting a cup of wine beside him. “You need to rest.”  

He looked up, his hazel eyes weary but warm as they met yours. “There’s too much to do. Rome doesn’t wait.”  

“Rome needs you strong, not burnt out,” you replied, taking his hand and tugging him away from the desk.  

He allowed you to guide him to the couch, his resistance half-hearted. “You’re the only one who can talk sense into me, amica mea.”  

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, earning a faint smile from him.  

As he leaned back, his head resting against the cushions, you sat beside him, your fingers brushing through his curls. He closed his eyes, his shoulders relaxing under your touch.  

“Sometimes I envy him,” he admitted quietly, his voice almost lost in the silence of the room.  

“Caracalla?” you asked, surprised.  

“He still has you to distract him,” Geta said, his tone tinged with sadness. “I’ve buried myself so deeply in this role that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to just be... me.”  

“You haven’t lost yourself,” you assured him. “You’ve grown, yes, but the man I care about is still here, behind all the responsibility. And I’m not going anywhere, Geta. You don’t have to face this alone.”  

He reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re my light in all of this. Without you, I’d be lost.”  

---  

The tension between the brothers reached a boiling point during a Senate meeting. Caracalla’s fiery temper clashed with Geta’s calculated calmness, their differing visions for Rome threatening to tear them apart. You intervened before their argument could escalate further, pulling them aside into a private chamber.  

“This has to stop,” you said firmly, looking between them. “You’re both fighting for the same thing—a stronger Rome. You’ll never achieve that if you keep tearing each other down.”  

Geta’s jaw tightened. “He refuses to see reason. His impulsiveness endangers everything we’ve worked for.”  

Caracalla scoffed, his tone biting. “And your obsession with control makes you blind to anything outside your narrow vision.”  

“Enough!” you snapped, startling them both. “You’re brothers. You’ve been through too much together to let this divide you.”  

They fell silent, their gazes turning to you.  

“I love you both,” you continued, your voice softening. “But I can’t watch you destroy each other. You’re stronger together than apart. Find a way to make this work, for Rome and for yourselves.”  

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, and slowly, they both nodded.  

---  

That night, the three of you sat together in the gardens, the tension from earlier giving way to a tentative peace. Geta poured wine for all of you, his movements precise and deliberate, while Caracalla leaned against you, his head resting on your shoulder.  

“We’ll find a way,” Geta said quietly, his hazel eyes meeting yours.  

“We will,” Caracalla echoed, his voice laced with determination.  

You smiled, hope blossoming in your chest. Despite the challenges ahead, you knew that as long as you stood together, you could face anything.  

--- 

The palace had become a volatile place, the air thick with unspoken tension. Caracalla’s illness, far from softening him, had hardened his demeanor. The playful charm he once wielded so effortlessly had given way to a sharper edge, his words cutting and his temper volatile. He moved through the halls like a storm, demanding absolute loyalty from those around him.  

You found him one evening in the atrium, pacing like a caged animal. His tunic hung loosely on his frame, a testament to his deteriorating health, but his eyes burned with a fierce intensity.  

“Caracalla,” you called gently, stepping into the room.  

He turned sharply, his expression unreadable. “What is it now? Come to lecture me, like Geta?”  

You took a cautious step forward, your voice calm. “I’m not here to lecture you. I’m here because I care about you.”  

His laugh was bitter, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Care? You care for a dying man who can barely command his own body, let alone an empire?”  

“You’re still the same man I’ve always cared for,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze.  

He stepped closer, his dark eyes searching yours. “Then prove it. Stay by my side. When they whisper about my failures, remind them who I am.”  

“Caracalla,” you murmured, reaching out to touch his arm.  

He caught your hand, his grip firm. “Do you love me?”  

The rawness of his question took you by surprise. “Of course I do,” you replied without hesitation.  

His expression softened, if only for a moment, before the hardness returned. “Then don’t pity me. Stand with me as my equal, not as my nursemaid.”  

---  

Geta, on the other hand, had become a beacon of stability in the chaos. His calm, measured approach to leadership was a stark contrast to Caracalla’s fiery unpredictability. Yet even he could not mask the strain of their growing rift.  

You found him in the Senate chambers late one evening, his head bowed over a map of Rome. The room was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his face.  

“Still at it?” you asked, stepping beside him.  

He looked up, his hazel eyes weary. “Someone has to clean up the mess he leaves behind.”  

“Geta…” you began, but he shook his head.  

“I’m not blind to what’s happening,” he said quietly. “He’s slipping, and I can’t reach him. Every decision he makes pushes us further apart.”  

“He’s scared,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.  

Geta sighed, leaning into your touch. “Fear doesn’t excuse recklessness. Rome can’t survive on fear alone.”  

“You’re both stronger together,” you reminded him. “Find a way to bridge this gap before it’s too late.”  

He reached for your hand, his grip warm and steady. “I don’t know if it’s possible anymore. But for you, I’ll try.”  

---  

The fracture between the brothers reached a breaking point during a meeting with the Senate. Caracalla’s impatience boiled over, his temper erupting as he dismissed the senators’ concerns with a wave of his hand.  

“Enough!” he roared, slamming his fist on the table. “I am not here to beg for your approval. I am Rome. You will follow my commands or face the consequences.”  

The room fell silent, the senators exchanging uneasy glances. Geta, seated beside him, spoke calmly. “They are not your enemies, Caracalla. They are our allies, and we must treat them as such.”  

Caracalla turned to his brother, his expression cold. “Allies? They are vultures, circling for scraps. Don’t mistake their flattery for loyalty.”  

The tension was palpable, and you intervened before the situation could escalate further.  

“Enough,” you said firmly, stepping between them. “This isn’t the time or place for this.”  

Caracalla’s gaze shifted to you, his jaw tight. “Stay out of this.”  

“I won’t,” you replied, your voice unwavering. “You’re brothers, not enemies. If you tear each other apart, Rome will fall with you.”  

Geta rose from his seat, his tone measured but firm. “She’s right. We can’t afford to let our differences destroy everything we’ve built.”  

Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, his silence speaking volumes.  

---  

Later that evening, you found Caracalla in the baths, his expression distant as he gazed at the water’s surface. You sat beside him, the silence between you heavy.  

“Do you ever wish things were different?” he asked suddenly, his voice soft.  

“All the time,” you admitted.  

He turned to you, his vulnerability laid bare. “I don’t want to lose him, or you. But I don’t know how to stop this spiral.”  

“You start by trusting us,” you said, taking his hand in yours. “We’re not your enemies, Caracalla. We’re your family.”  

He nodded slowly, his grip on your hand tightening. “I don’t deserve you.”  

“You deserve more than you think,” you replied, leaning closer.  

---  

Meanwhile, Geta sought solace in your presence, his moments of vulnerability growing more frequent. One evening, as you shared a quiet moment in the gardens, he spoke of his fears.  

“I’ve always admired him,” Geta confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “His fire, his determination. But now, I wonder if that fire will burn us all.”  

“It won’t,” you said firmly. “Because you’ll be there to temper it, just as he tempers your reserve. Together, you balance each other.”  

He looked at you, his hazel eyes filled with gratitude. “And you balance us both. Without you, I don’t know where we’d be.”  

---  

The path ahead was uncertain, the weight of their roles as emperors pressing heavily upon them. Yet, as the three of you stood together, you knew that love—complex and imperfect as it was—would be your guiding light through the storm.  

---

The shift in Caracalla’s demeanor had grown sharper, and the palace felt it. He moved with a predator’s confidence, his steps echoing through the halls as servants scrambled to avoid his gaze. Power radiated from him, but so did a sense of chaos. His illness, now a public secret, didn’t weaken him in the eyes of others—it made him all the more dangerous, as if compensating for his failing body with sheer force of will.  

In stark contrast, Geta embodied a quiet stability. Where Caracalla demanded, Geta negotiated; where Caracalla ruled by fear, Geta sought respect. Yet even he was changing, his patience thinning under the weight of his brother’s antics and the empire’s demands. The only thing that kept their growing animosity from boiling over was you.  

---  

One evening, Caracalla summoned you to his private quarters. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the brazier in the corner. He stood by the window, gazing out at the city with a glass of wine in his hand.  

“Do you know why I called for you?” he asked without turning around.  

“I have an idea,” you replied, keeping your tone light.  

He turned then, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Do you?”  

There was an edge to his voice, a challenge in his gaze. You stepped closer, undeterred. “You’re testing me.”  

He smirked, the expression both cruel and amused. “I test everyone. Why should you be any different?”  

“Because I’m not just anyone,” you replied firmly.  

He set the glass down, closing the distance between you in a few swift strides. “No, you’re not,” he said, his voice low. “You’re the one thing in this entire empire I can’t control, and it drives me mad.”  

Your breath hitched as his hand came up to cup your face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “But I don’t want to control you,” he continued. “I want you to stand beside me. To remind me that I’m not just a tyrant, even if that’s what they all see.”  

“You’re more than that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “Stay with me tonight. I need you.”  

---  

Across the palace, Geta sat alone in the gardens, the cool night air doing little to soothe the storm within him. When you found him, his expression was distant, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.  

“Geta,” you said softly, sitting beside him.  

He didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the fountain ahead. “I envy him,” he admitted after a long silence.  

“Why?”  

“He takes what he wants without hesitation,” Geta said, his voice laced with bitterness. “Meanwhile, I hesitate, I overthink, and I lose. Not just power, but… you.”  

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You reached out, placing a hand over his. “You haven’t lost me.”  

He turned to you then, his hazel eyes filled with a mixture of hope and doubt. “Haven’t I? Every time I see you with him, I wonder if there’s any room left for me.”  

“There’s always room for you,” you said firmly, leaning closer. “You and your brother may be opposites, but you both have a place in my heart.”  

His hand tightened around yours, and for the first time in days, a faint smile crossed his lips. “You’re the only thing that keeps me grounded in all of this.”  

---  

The tension between the brothers finally erupted during a council meeting. Caracalla’s temper flared as he dismissed one of Geta’s proposals with a wave of his hand.  

“Your caution will be the death of Rome,” Caracalla sneered.  

“And your recklessness will destroy it faster,” Geta shot back, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.  

The senators exchanged nervous glances, clearly uncomfortable with the brewing conflict. You stood at the edge of the room, your heart pounding as the argument escalated.  

“This isn’t about Rome,” Caracalla snarled, stepping closer to his brother. “This is about you wanting to prove you’re better than me.”  

“I don’t need to prove anything,” Geta replied, his calm façade cracking. “Your actions speak for themselves.”  

“Enough!” you interjected, stepping between them. “This is not the time or place for this.”  

Caracalla’s gaze shifted to you, his anger momentarily replaced by something softer. “You’re defending him?”  

“I’m defending both of you,” you said firmly. “You’re brothers. If you can’t find a way to work together, Rome will tear itself apart.”  

Geta’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “She’s right. We need to set aside our differences.”  

Caracalla hesitated, his pride warring with his affection for you. Finally, he sighed, stepping back. “For now.”  

---  

That night, the three of you sat together in the atrium, the tension from earlier still lingering but softened by the shared bottle of wine. Caracalla leaned back against a column, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering light, while Geta sat beside you, his presence steady and comforting.  

“Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we weren’t emperors?” Geta asked suddenly, his voice thoughtful.  

“All the time,” Caracalla replied, surprising both of you. He looked at you then, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “But if I weren’t emperor, would I still have you?”  

“You’d have me no matter what,” you said, your voice filled with conviction.  

“And me?” Geta asked quietly.  

You turned to him, taking his hand in yours. “Always.”  

Caracalla smirked, though there was no malice in it. “She’s too good for us, Geta.”  

“Maybe,” Geta replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.  

As the night wore on, the three of you sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the empire momentarily forgotten. For now, you were just three souls bound by love, trying to navigate a world that demanded too much of all of you.  

Previous 

Hope you enjoyed it! Please consider liking and reposting! – Midnight💜 

[fawninthesnow]

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𐙚 Prince Geta x Fem! Reader 𐙚 18+

Summary: As Geta's childhood best friend, you two have been through everything together. One night, the Prince decides to run away with you.

Warnings/contains: Prince Geta AU, virgins, losing virginity, first time, nipple play, sexual tension, biting, friends with benefits, not proof read-- english is not my first language!

Word Count: 3k

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

In many ways, you were his first.

He pulled your hand along as you two ran barefoot through the palace. Your dress and robe flowed behind you as your shadows stretched over the walls and sacred treasures around the palace. “Geta? Where are we going?”

“Haha, just come!”

**

Years ago, you hid behind your mother’s leg, holding onto her gown. “[Y/n]. Go play.” She kissed your cheek, and you stepped back further. “Darling?”

“I don’t want to!”

“Listen.” She kneeled to your height. “The princes need…playmates! Ok? If the royal family likes you— us both, then you get to have a friend forever, darling.” You knew that look in your mother’s eyes. She was desperate. There were nights where she would starve so you could eat the scraps she stole from the palace. Being a servant for the royal family was not easy. “Play nicely and you’ll have anything and everything you could ever want.”

“You too?” You asked. Your mother nodded with her gentle smile. “Okay.”

“When you are done, we can go straight home! Sound ok?” You agreed and stepped inside of the room filled with toys, other girls dressed in the purest of white dresses and laughter. Most of the girls played with each other, paying the princes no mind. Mothers waited in the halls, mumbling prayers to themselves, hoping that their daughters would be fit for the role.

You kneeled beside one of the boys, “…want to trade?” The boy with a full head of red curls looked at you and the toy in your hand. Your father had hand-carved it with the wood from a fallen tree. In his hands was a gold necklace with a large pearl at its center. You nodded. He looked behind him at his father and his advisor. “What is your name?”

“Geta. Your name?”

“[Y/n]. Where did you get this? From your mommy?” He shook his head. “It looks expensive.”

“I do not remember.” He giggled. You sat beside him, admiring the jewelry. “Do you want to see someone?” You tilted your head and from his wide sleeves, he retrieved a green freckled lizard. A giggle left your mouth as he placed it on your shoulder.

**

*Present*

“Geta!” You yelped as he brought you to the stone gazebo. Inside glowed a small lantern fire. You kneeled with him, and he laughed rather nervously.

“I have been thinking, [y/n]. I know we are getting older; Caracalla and I are to take the throne soon. But…we should run away together.” He blurted. Your smile began to melt, “[Y/n], I am ready.”

“No, no. You are only nervous. That is all!” Your smile, holding his face in your hands as he shakes his head.

“You know me better than anyone else. I am not nervous—“

“You are ambitious! That will be perfect for when you are crowned.” You smile, moving closer against him. “You are simply changing. We both are but not enough to run away.”

“You are not listening, [Y/n]. I know what I want.”

“But leaving your brother?! Our friends? Your throne?” He only smiled. There was no changing his mind. Of course, he cared about his brother and other responsibilities but in the slightest, he needed a break. You fixed the tilted crown on his head.

“Please come with me. You’re my dearest friend…I wouldn’t imagine leaving you here.” You stood from the ground.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head. “This would cause a panic in the empire.”

“We will call it a trip until then. Just traveling!” You touched your necklace, and he moved in front of you, searching your expression.

“They won’t allow that.”

He sighed, “I am not leaving without you, [Y/n].”

Your gentle fingers caressed his face, the warm rings on your hand shined against his brown eyes. The young man leaned into your touch without hesitation. “You know I will follow wherever you go.” You smirked and he wrapped his arms around you. For a moment, his lips hesitated by yours, his eyes on the two-toned lips. You moved back from him and moved hair behind your ear. “Ahem.”

“W- we should leave tomorrow tonight.” His hand brushed your long hair as your hands joined. A warm wave of excitement and anxiety ran through his body. Was he even ready for this commitment?! Yes! He whispered to himself to stay calm. Your hand in his helped him stay grounded. This was worth it. You were worth it.

The next evening, you both hid under the palace inside of the emperors’ archives as everyone went to sleep. Around an hour after midnight, he helped you onto a horse with a few satchels of food and clothes. You held onto his sides as the horse quietly left out the back gate.

After a while of traveling, you two came up on a river through the woods. You tied the horse to a nearby tree and sat with Geta in the undergrowth. Your fingers trembled with fear and excitement— “I can’t believe we…we did it.”

“We did.” He giggled. “I feel…better than ever!” You shyly smiled and washed your hands in the water. “Thank you for joining me, Y/n. You make me feel how a man should.” He said with sarcasm as he pushed away his blade to start a fire.

“Ahh, you lie.” you push his arm. “I am only doing this, so you don’t kill yourself on your lonesome. This empire is not all Rome. There is danger where you expect.” You warned him, as you ate food from a satchel.

“You know best.” He whispered as the flames sparked and caught on the dry leaves and sticks.

“I do.” You said with a chuckle. When you laughed, your bosom moved gently beneath your clothes. He averted his gaze. “Your birthday is coming up! You did not want to wait until then to leave?”

“Tsk, I care not of mediocre celebrations and repetitive gifts.” The man chuckled, “You do though.”

“Mediocre?!” You scoffed. “Of course I do. I am a lady of the court, and I help organize such things.” You sounded rather offended.

“My friend, I meant no harm.” You wondered why that label ‘friend’ made your heart feel so…uneasy. You looked at the fire as you two sat beside each other. His comforting, and large hand rubbed your thigh gently. “So, what are you leaving behind?” Your fingertips traced the back of his scarred knuckles.

“Nothing…my mom is gone. There’s nothing there. I mean, there is you, but you are beside me.”

“You have changed, my heart.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks and core. “Not in a bad manner. I mean, you have grown.”

“So have you.” You smirk, tossing more dried leaves into the fire. “I watch you train.” You gently touched his bruised knuckles and down the hair of his forearm. “For what exactly are you preparing for?”

“For…myself.” He said softly, “You watch me?” He asked, thinking back to the times he figured he were alone. You could recall watching him from behind the curtains or beyond the terraces in the palace. You nodded, placing your chin into your hand. “Well, you do a form of ‘training’.” Your head tilted in confusion. “They speak of you as if you are some sort of general running that court.” You two share a laugh as his hand rubbed further up your leg. “I mean it.”

“You listen whenever I am mentioned so I have no doubts.”

He leaned onto you, his nose against your neck. “You smell like a woman. You look like a woman.” You chuckled as he took deeper inhales of your scent. “I mean it. I am older than you but when I look at you...”

 “I look nothing like the ‘ideal’ Roman woman.”  You watched as your friend shook his head.

“I did not notice.” He said back to you as you both pressed together. His lips pressed against the back of your hand. You had not noticed your fingers against his chest, your hand inside the folds of his clothes. “You are perfect to me, [Y/n].”

He leaned closer towards you, “I- but I am not betrothed to you! We cannot do this! I was not chosen!” Your eyes seemed to water as you moved away from him. He followed you into the darkness of trees. “I am your friend, remember?” You asked spitefully.

“That was not my choice!”

“I didn’t say that it was.”

He wiped the salty tears from under your eyes. “I do not need the courts to know who I love or why! You know you love me, Y/n. Show me. Please.”

You turned to him, “This is my life you are speaking of! I could be crucified for this! Stripping each other of purity before your wedding.”

“That is not what I’m asking. No one will know. Just- just kiss me.” You brought him to you, trapping him between your body and a tree bark. His eyes lulled back as your soft curves pressed onto him. Your lips pressed deeply onto his; his tongue explored your mouth passionately without any restraint as he pulled at your gown. By his hand, your left leg raised up on his hip with a swiftness—

You pulled away from him and caught your breath. Pants left your mouths as you both leaned back against trees. “I am nervous…I will get carried away, Geta.” You shook your head, “We should just go home. Geta.” You took his hand into yours and found his sorrowful eyes.

“No. No, I will not. We cannot go back! I- I am sorry if you want to leave because of me but-“

“No, that is not why. I think we are not ready. To run away or…uhm” You felt his hand squeeze yours tightly.

“I am.” He said firmly as you squeezed his hand back with a plead.

“Geta.” The prince sighed and joined you again by the fire. “We should have spoken more about this. W- we cannot leave. The only life we know is one of luxury and convenience! Geta.” You hold his face in your hands; just looking in his eyes was more intimate than you could handle after what occurred. He leaned closer to you and placed a kiss on your lips. For a moment, you were stunned for a short while; he went in for another kiss. Your eyes shut and Geta’s hands held the back of your head, his fingers sunk into the dark curls.

On the ride back to the palace a few moments later, you stayed silent. He tried to think of something, anything to speak of to make you open up again but nothing came to mind. As you held onto his waist, your hips against his body, you felt only shame. How could you?! Even contemplating giving yourself to him! Well, in adolescence, you had a crush on him, sure. Then, you would fall asleep to the thought of marrying him, but it was just a dream; just a crush.

If so, then why at the age of eighteen did your cheeks flush; your body so mindlessly falling into his hands?

Back in your quarters, you lay on your back inside of the sunken bed. Blankets enveloped you like a nest—you were more than comfortable but you could not rest. You rose to your knees and pressed your ear against the wall that connected you and Geta’s rooms. There was only silence in the palace, making you lose confidence. You should just lay back down! Go to sleep and handle the court in the morning but…

You stepped outside of your quarters and was met by Geta in a cherry red robe. “Oh. I was-“ He raised a glass of water.

“I cannot rest.”

“Should I read to you?” You were used to him doing this whenever you needed it but—He did not wait for you to answer, instead, he took you hand and shut you both inside of your quarters. You climbed into bed with him; from your bedside table, he took a thick scroll into his hands.

He said nothing as your body leaned on top of his, tucked comfortably beside him. When he read to you, his palm rubbed your thigh gently. “I am sorry for making us turn back.”

“…no, you were right. We should not have left.” He muttered.

He continued to caress your leg-- “Do you think that…others, the servants, our friends, your family-- know we are friends?” You asked.

“I do not suppose many would believe that.”

“Are you in love with me, Geta?” He looked into your eyes and pondered his reply. Of course he was! But what if you were to reject him? What if everything he had felt for so long manifested into nothing?

“I am and I have been for years.” He exhaled deeply through his mouth. The air was caught between your embrace as you kissed him for the fourth time tonight. “It took a lot to admit that.” His cheeked burned red as you smiled and moved hair from your face. You two only stared into each other’s eyes, thinking of the same thing.

“W- we cannot have sex.” You whispered as he pushed the scroll to the end of the bed with his foot. A short gasp left your lips as he peeled away the folds of your night robe and exposed your breasts.

“You are breathtaking.” The curves of your breasts filled his palms as he sunk lower in bed and pulled you on top of him. His voice sounded different than you were used to; it was so seductive and tempting. From that point on, you wanted everything he had to offer for as long as possible. He gently massaged your breasts; his eye contact was rather controlling. Your hips rolled over his lap, and you tried your best to resist taking him.

He held your left breast in your hand and gently flicked your nipple. Your spine arched in surprise; this feeling was something new. Of course, you had explored yourself before but his lips, his warm saliva and careful tongue was—Geta gently sucked on your breast as his fingers tended to your other. “Nggh!” You leaned away from his touch—

“Does that hurt?”

“No, no, it feels nice.” He then pulled you against him once again. Beneath you, his firm cock pressed against your cunt through the fabrics of his clothes. He started his suckles off gentler than before and rocked you over his hard shaft. Your eyes rolled back as the man unintentionally stimulated your clitoris. Not unlike a current, he continued his motions against you. Geta was hungry for you; he has never experienced a lust like this before. He craved for you to consume him and take him whole. You had him like no other could; whatever you wanted, he would do without a second thought and the best part was that you felt the same.

You pushed away the clothes that hid his manhood and your womanhood. When your palm wrapped around his shaft, a deep moan felt his throat. He pushed your forearm away. “I was only going to hold it.” You whispered. He nodded and allowed you to feel his cock gently. Your fingers ran over the tip of his cock and down his veins to his base. You bit your lip for a moment as the messy precum from his cock covered your fingertips.

His brown eyes searched yours for approval before he ran his fingers over your pussy. You twitched as he gently held your clitoris. He quickly let go of the sensitive flesh and moved down to your soaked opening. You could only stare in his eyes as he guided your hips down against his. “It is ok…just breathe.” His hands gently grazed your sides, and his lips stayed against your neck. Your pussy rubbed against his cock, spreading your juices down his shaft. “You taste as sweet as you look.” When he spoke past your ear, and his gentle breaths left its mark on your skin, you could only rock your hips. He whispered moans into your ear; Your head fell back in pleasure as he continued, “I love you, Y/n.” He pleaded as if begging for you to say it back.

“I love you too, Geta.” He bit down on your neck and kissed the wound as he carefully laid you down on your back. Your legs wrapped around his back, your arms around his neck. “Please…please, make love to me.” You moaned through sensual pants. He sighed and raised his head from your shoulder. You knew he was torn but you were too--- to deny you now would haunt him for the rest of his life. He felt you tighten your limbs around him. This possessive hold made his morals of marriage deplete and crumble. “Geta~” You softly sung in his ear.

The prince’s cock gently pushed into your tight pussy. He paused as his tip settled inside of you to catch his breath. You whined as he stretched your opening-- “Come here.” You whispered; the prince then pushed himself deeper into your core. His arms felt weak as your cunt squeezed his sensitive shaft so passionately. Your eyes squeezed shut and tears ran down your cheeks. Geta quickly wiped your face with his fingertips and kissed your forehead.

“I- I am sorry.”

“It is ok.” You leaned into the touch of his hand. “Keep going.” He gently pulled his hips back and slowly stroked inside of you. He mumbled moans to himself as he tried his best not to finish inside of you—and so quickly. However, his thighs felt like they would give out any second from holding his body up.

More on my Master list! + follow & reblog pls

Hiii little fawns! Thank you for reading! Requests are open again <3

[madwinterschild]

Please consider for a moment if you will, Joseph Quinn in a Jekyll and Hyde remake/reboot. Your telling me this is the same person that can go from a sweet summers child to this monstrosity?! YES PLEASE!

[theemporersgirl]

“I love when you're submissive

Love it when I break skin

You feel pain without flinchin'

So say it

Give me tough love

Leave me with nothin' when I come down

My kinda love

Push me and choke me 'til I pass out”

-One of the girls, The Weeknd

This just always reminds me of him✨

[getatushh]

I'm sick of fics where geta is the dom and the other character still has their v card and shit so he has rough s3x where he's running the show

Gimmie fics where he's the unexperienced one - where despite the fact that he acts all cocky and has his fuck ass ego he's still never actually done anything.

NO SPICE IT UP

Give me content where the other character (lusius, acacius, x reader, oc, I'm not all picky) is the one teaching him what's going on - gimmie geta whimpering and being all pathetic and shit cause he's never done this before but the other character is making him feel amazing.

THE WORLD NEEDS TO MATCH THE SUB/BOTTOM GETA AGENDA FASTER PLEASEEEE

IKR?!?!?! Like, its cool (it's not) some ppl like geta being dominant and all that stuff cus yk, everybody can do their own headcannons but bffr not only with me but with YOURSELF too, be fucking for real and accept that man is a whole ass virgin 😭

in my opinion, at least i do think he is, maybe he had some kisses and touched some stuff and did another stuff but i cant se actually SEE him having sex and doing orgies and being some kind of bdsm professional like everybody likes to shows him because he is not.

maybe it could be because he has the most responsability out of the two of them, and while caracalla was doing fun and weird shit, having outbursts and talking with a monkey he had to do his job and kinda caracalla's job at the same time, so i don't think he will be that much interested in sex. at least not in the sense of wanting to have it every single day.

i thought we all know that behind his cockiness and fuck ass ego he had still never done anything lmaoo.

AND I CAN SEE marcus being almost all of "geta's first times" that man was deffo his first crush (thats why he was so hurt after his betrayal) and the one to guide him in almost every sexual experience. but i can also SEE lucius being his first time like in THE first time (doing yk what) and geta being totally shocked that it wasnt anything like marcus teach him (by this point marcus is dead and geta is left widowing)

NO FR, THEY NEED TO MATCH OUR AGENDA FASTER, PPL ARE SLEEPING ON THE BOTTOM/SUB/OMEGA GETA JOURNEY!!!

[kassy-djomunson]

Iconic

Here's a clip of my favorite Geta moment! The way he screams "Praetoriaaaaaaans" is just...

Also, tongue:

[kassy-djomunson]

that’s a joe thing

[niku30]

A swift farewell

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

In the Shadows of Power Part 2

Pairing: Emperor Geta x reader

Warnings : Fluff, Angst, some fighting

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy! Goes hand in hand with the 1st part linked in the previous

Masterlist | Previous

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The air was heavy with tension, the flickering torches casting long shadows across the stone walls of the villa. Valerius stood unmoving, his calculating eyes narrowing as he assessed both you and Geta.

“You have fire,” Valerius said, his voice dripping with condescension. “But fire alone won’t save you.”

“Neither will arrogance,” Geta snapped, stepping forward to shield you. “You’ve made a grave mistake by coming here.”

Valerius chuckled, raising a hand to halt his soldiers as they moved closer. “Mistake? No, my prince. I call it an opportunity.”

“And what opportunity is that?” Geta demanded, his grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

“To prove your recklessness to the emperor. To show him that his favored son is driven by passion, not logic.” Valerius’s gaze slid to you, a sly smirk curling his lips. “And by a mere maid, no less. What will the empire think of that?”

---

The weight of his words pressed down on you, but before Geta could respond, you stepped forward, your chin held high.

“The empire won’t think anything if they know the truth,” you said, your voice steady despite the fear gripping your heart.

Valerius raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what truth is that?”

“That you’ve fabricated this entire situation to discredit Geta,” you said sharply. “You have no proof of anything improper, and you’re using the mere presence of a servant as leverage for your schemes.”

The soldiers exchanged uncertain glances, their confidence wavering.

“You speak boldly for someone so insignificant,” Valerius hissed, his composure slipping.

“And yet here you are,” you shot back, meeting his gaze with unflinching determination. “Afraid enough of my supposed ‘insignificance’ to risk everything by coming here.”

Geta’s eyes gleamed with pride, his free hand brushing against yours in silent support.

---

Valerius’s smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of anger. “You’ll regret that,” he growled, signaling to his men.

But Geta was faster.

In a blur of motion, he drew his sword, positioning himself between you and the advancing soldiers. “If you think I’ll let you leave here alive, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

The room erupted into chaos.

---

Geta fought with a ferocity you hadn’t seen before, his blade flashing as he defended you from the soldiers’ advances. Despite being outnumbered, his skill and determination were unmatched, and soon the floor was littered with fallen men.

You stood frozen, your back pressed against the wall as the scene unfolded. But as another soldier lunged for Geta, your instincts kicked in. Without thinking, you grabbed a heavy vase from a nearby table and smashed it against the soldier’s head, sending him crumpling to the ground.

Geta glanced back at you, a mixture of surprise and admiration in his expression. “Stay close!” he shouted, parrying another attack.

Valerius, seeing his forces dwindling, began to retreat toward the door. “This isn’t over, Geta!” he snarled, blood dripping from a cut on his cheek.

Geta advanced on him, his sword leveled. “You’ll answer for this, Valerius. Not to me, but to the emperor.”

Valerius hesitated, then turned and fled into the night, his remaining soldiers scrambling after him.

---

The villa was eerily silent after the battle, the only sounds the crackle of torches and your ragged breaths.

“Are you hurt?” Geta asked, his voice soft as he approached you.

You shook your head, though your hands trembled. “I’m fine. Are you?”

He nodded, wiping the blood from his sword before sheathing it. “Thanks to you.”

You blinked in surprise. “I didn’t do much.”

“You stood your ground,” he said, taking your hands in his. “You faced him without fear. That’s more than most would do.”

You looked away, heat rising to your cheeks. “I was terrified.”

“But you didn’t let it stop you,” he said firmly, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “That courage… it’s one of the many reasons I—” He hesitated, his words trailing off.

“You what?” you prompted, your heart pounding.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I love you, (Y/N). I’ve tried to deny it, to keep my distance, but I can’t anymore.”

Tears welled in your eyes as his confession sank in. “Geta…”

“I know it won’t be easy,” he continued, his voice raw. “But I’ll fight for you. For us. No matter the cost.”

Your heart swelled with emotion, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his.

It was a kiss filled with all the fear, passion, and hope that had been building between you. When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“We’ll face whatever comes next,” you said softly. “Together.”

---

The villa became a fleeting sanctuary, a brief reprieve before the weight of reality descended once more. Geta lingered only a day longer, ensuring you were safe and planning the next steps. Though he insisted on leaving you behind for your safety, you refused.

“If you’re facing this, I’m facing it with you,” you declared, your voice steady despite the apprehension coursing through you.

He knew better than to argue. And so, you rode together back to Rome, the tension between you palpable. The city loomed before you, its towering structures and sprawling streets a stark reminder of the danger that awaited.

---

The return was quiet, almost too quiet. Whispers trailed behind you as Geta strode confidently through the palace, you at his side. Though you had avoided the public eye for years, it was clear that your presence now did not go unnoticed.

In the throne room, the emperor sat waiting, flanked by advisors and courtiers. Valerius was nowhere to be seen, though the atmosphere was thick with his influence.

“Father,” Geta greeted, bowing respectfully. “I must speak with you.”

The emperor’s sharp gaze shifted from his son to you, lingering for a moment before he nodded. “Speak.”

Geta recounted the events at the villa with precision, sparing no detail. He spoke of Valerius’s ambush, his attempts to discredit him, and the lengths he went to in his obsession with seizing power.

“And the girl?” the emperor asked, his voice measured. “What is her role in this?”

You stepped forward, your pulse quickening. “I am nothing but a servant, my lord,” you said humbly, “but I have witnessed Valerius’s treachery firsthand. He sought to use me as a weapon against your son, twisting the truth to suit his schemes.”

The emperor studied you for a long moment before turning back to Geta. “You bring accusations without proof, my son. If what you say is true, then Valerius must be dealt with—but I need evidence.”

“I’ll get it,” Geta promised, his voice firm. “But I ask for your trust in the meantime.”

The emperor nodded slowly. “Very well. But tread carefully. Valerius is cunning, and he won’t be taken down easily.”

---

The next days were a whirlwind of political maneuvering. Geta worked tirelessly, gathering allies and searching for the proof he needed to expose Valerius. You stayed by his side, offering support where you could, though the palace’s walls felt suffocating after the peace of the villa.

Valerius, meanwhile, remained out of sight, though his presence lingered like a shadow. Rumors swirled of his movements��secret meetings, whispered plots—but nothing concrete emerged.

One evening, as you and Geta sat in his chambers, pouring over documents, a knock at the door interrupted your work.

“Enter,” Geta called.

A trusted guard stepped in, his expression grim. “My lord, we’ve found something.”

He held out a scroll, sealed with Valerius’s emblem. Geta took it, his brow furrowing as he read.

“What is it?” you asked, leaning closer.

“Correspondence between Valerius and several senators,” Geta said, his voice tight. “He’s been plotting to overthrow my father, using fabricated evidence against me as leverage.”

The guard hesitated. “There’s more, my lord. We captured one of his men trying to flee the city. He’s willing to testify.”

---

The trial was swift and brutal. Valerius was brought before the emperor, his usual confidence replaced by desperation. The evidence against him was damning, and the testimony of his captured ally sealed his fate.

“You have betrayed the empire,” the emperor declared, his voice cold and unyielding. “And for that, you will pay the ultimate price.”

Valerius’s execution was set for the following day, a public display meant to send a clear message: betrayal would not be tolerated.

As you and Geta watched the proceedings from the shadows, a sense of relief washed over you. The threat that had loomed over your lives was finally gone.

But as Geta’s hand found yours, his grip warm and reassuring, you knew that your battles were far from over.

---

With Valerius gone, life in the palace shifted. Though whispers of your relationship persisted, Geta stood firm in his resolve to keep you by his side.

“I won’t hide what you mean to me,” he said one evening, his arms wrapped around you as you sat together in the gardens. “They’ll talk, but let them. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

His declaration sparked controversy, but over time, the court grew used to your presence. You remained by his side, navigating the treacherous waters of Roman politics together.

And though the road ahead was uncertain, one thing was clear: you and Geta were stronger together than apart.

Previous

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[kassy-djomunson]

for the glory of rome

GLADIATOR II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott

[getatushh]

I just know both of those little ginger freaks will occasionally see a gladiator do injure someone in a way that's particularly insane (like idk, rip someone's throat out or some shit) and will look at that bitch who's still coated in blood and be like.

"Oh... this is kinda..."

They're freaks who probably get a bit turned on by violence your honour.

pleaseee they would really do so!

caracalla more than geta obviously, i think geta is more shy and less open in sharing his fantasies and "turn on's" than his brother is, so i definitely can see caracalla screaming and rooting for the gladiator, saying stuff like "amusing! truly amusing! this is what the arena is for!" all while geta sits in the throne.

and yes, i also think they get a bit turned on by violence, caracalla prefers to exert violence while geta (in a much more lighter way) prefers to receive it!!

[pathidoszune]

The gods have SPOKEN

[kassy-djomunson]

Emperor Geta

JOSEPH QUINN as GETA | part 2

Gladiator II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott

[kassy-djomunson]

plotting their next scheme

*pics taken by me from the digital version of gladiator 2