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darknessisafriend · 6 days

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Hi hi! I've been searching for someone to write this for me because I'm a terrible writer but I want to read it and I saw on your request post that you will write for Wade Wilson so basically I was wondering if you could write something angst with maybe a good ending (you decide) reader can have any gender.

So the basic plot- Soulmate Au. Wade is married to his Wife Vanessa they aren't soulmates and Wade doesn't care for the whole soulmate thing and he wholeheartedly loves his wife. But one day somehow he meets his soulmate (reader) they are obsessed with the idea of meeting their soulmate so they approach him very excitedly and Wade rejects them effectively breaking their heart. And months pass by and they eventually see wade again Reader has tried dating other people but can never connect well. Maybe they're drinking in a bar and Wade is all so there maybe awhile after Vanessa's death. The rest is all you.

'helloooo im so sooooo sorry if i took so long to write this, i lost all my work and had to do a lot to write it all again! i hope you like it, sorry again ^^'

Words: 3352

TWs: mentions of suicide, revenge porn, bad language, drinking, mockery of illness

Wade had been trapped in that cave he used to call "home" for way too long: his domestic routine had become his major torture, his eyes kept landing on every spot of the apartment he just was sleeping at and bringing his hookups to at some occasion. And his mind kept displaying in loop every bit of memory with his beloved Vanessa it could recover. Deadpool was a temporary pause from that sorrow, temporary yet necessary, his flirty comments and cocky behaviors appeared less vibrant at the eyes of the X-Men too. Negasonic Teenage Warhead knew what was going on in his life, she didn't have the heart to act a bully as her usual. That collective sense of compassion towards Wade was driving him nuts, he hated being pitied, he always had hated it. A loss wasn't going to change the relationship he had with everyone... or was it?

He still wanted to sexually harass Colossus; he still desired to play princesses with Yukio; he still craved to hang out with Weasel and fall asleep with him somewhere, shitfaced; he wanted Blind Al to hug him once again. He wanted things to go back to before he met Vanessa, so he couldn't fall in love with her, share joys and sorrows with her. So his heart couldn't shrink in pain for her death. He could never forget her laughter, how beautifully she developed since she stopped being an escort. He could never forget the look of sadness in her eyes when they found out he had cancer, but how she decided to stay by his side ad support him with no hesitation. They had a special chemistry, something Yukio kept calling "the power of soulmates". Wade always scoffed at that memory, Yukio's excited smile while pronouncing those words, a mix of amusement and annoyance invaded him. He didn't believe in such bullshit, the soulmates thing; he might believe in unicorns, but not that.

However, sometimes, whilst remembering his deceased wife for the nth time, the anti-hero stopped himself thinking "why don't I believe in soulmates?". He thought of himself. He thought of Vanessa. He thought of their past alone before meeting and becoming one thing together.

Why didn't he believe in soulmates?

Because his - no, their - nature told them so. They were free spirits, loving each other because their shell decided itself to soften around each other, no superior Force was pushing them in the other's arms because It said so. They were free to leave if things didn't work out, and they were free to stay. Unluckily, or luckily, their strongest trait was their stubbornness; and his stubbornnes was now biting him in the ass, refusing to let her go.

"Leave me alone, I've done what I had to."

"I let you go, it's your turn to do the same."

"We had a deal... you're not respecting it..."

"Of course I moved on, why wouldn't I?!"

Some nights, Vanessa's memories were more violently present in Wade's mind.

"I hate you! Go away!", he would think while crashing his dead wife's picture on the floor, breaking the protective glass with a violent step on it, not caring if he was barefoot.

He would just stare at the rug, the floor and the picture getting more and more stained in red.

Many times he had thought to jump off a bridge, attempting to escape from her or to join her, his intentions were confused. But he knew it would have been useless.

So he started going and sit on the bridge to admire the horizon, and at least distract the sight with something different than his bedroom; his mind was busy inventing little stories about the people he could see from up there, it was fun, kinda.

Until the day he felt someone else's presence on that bridge.

Wade faintly turned his head to see with the corner of his eyes who was sniffling and crying next to him. It was you, wrapped in a dull colored purplish hoodie. You were standing on the edge of the bridge, letting out incoherent stutters as you were looking down in the void under the high construction you and the man were perched. What caught your attention among the chaos that was your mind, was a movement of his hand, patting on a spot right next to him. You hesitantly sat, catching the invite, and sniffled one last time.

"It's not gonna relieve you, believe me", he softly spoke, not afraid that his thin voice was being covered by a far thunder. You pulled your eyes away from the void under your feet, and looked at him, slightly frowning.

"W...what...?", you asked, goofily wiping your nose with the sleeve of your hoodie. He noisily sighed and turned his head to the other side, so you couldn't see him. "You heard me well. What you wanted to do is stupid, you know that", he rudely replied, his head was covered by a hoodie too, it was pink with a plush horn on top, but it had bee obviously badly washed and some spots had been overly bleached: it looked like that hoodie had vitiligo.

You could hear him swallow down after moments of awkward silence, only broken by a start thin rain falling on them.

"S'ry", he quickly let out, playing with his wool gloves fingertips. You slowly nodded to accept his ashamed apology, and looked to the other side. More silence. The rain increased, but you two didn't care much, maybe Wade did a bit, since he tightened the hoodie around his face.

You took a deep breath, and closed your eyes: you had the urge to talk with somebody, and if that man was there the same moment as you were, it could mean something.

"My ex spread my nudes online.", "My wife's dead".

Both of you blurted out at the same time; apparently you weren't the only one who needed to vent. You looked at Wade and let out a coy smile, but he refused to return it, still hiding himself.

"I'm sorry for your loss, sir... when did it happen?", you asked, trying to be available for listening, but his silence was clear enough for you to realize he wasn't available for opening up. Not yet, hopefully.

"She was everything to me... and now she's gone. I don't know if I can ever move on", he murmured, teasing a loosened wool thread poking out of his gloves.

"I am sure you will manage. A loss is always hard to hande, but there are multiple ways to cope-"

"I don't want to cope", he hissed at you, shifting further from you with his hips, and crossing his arms.

His aggressiveness made you pinch your lips together, and pick on your hands skin with your nails, your coping mechanism for strong anxiety.

"For how long you've been together with your ex?", he then asked, his head turned back a bit towards you, but still in a way that you couldn't see his face. His question made your eyes itch and fill in tears, which were mingled with the raindrops rolling down your face.

"Six years... he proposed last week", you revealed, keeping your head down to observe how your hands skin was getting redder and redder for your pinching. "I... I found out tonight he was planning to leave me to the altar to run away with his side piece. Then my dad found the Telegram channel with my pics in it, and disowned me".

"Goddamn! Ya serious?!", he asked, his voice got suddenly loud, startling you a bit. You quickly nodded, sniffling, his eagerness to know more like a gossip girl made the atmosphere less tensed. It heavily contrasted the gloomy environment, but it wasn't unpleasant at all. You told him the whole story, and he seemed more and more interested, despite the fact he was firmly refusing to turn towards you. When you told him the whole story, he scoffed, definitely annoyed and personally involved in your story.

"Ah, what an asshole. He truly took advantage of your good heart. But you should have noticed all the red flags floating around you, pal. I mean, c'mon, revenge porn is vulgar, and old-fashioned!", he snarled, with a confident tone, he seemed like another person. He probably used that way to protect himself from thinking too much, from pain: humor. You couldn't help but envy him. Then, your envy turned into thankfulness, for having met someone to talk to during that tough moment. And then, your thankfulness turned again into something else. You were fimly believing your meeting wasn't that casual; something or someone wanted you both there, two men with a broken heart, it couldn't be a coincidence!

"I guess you're right, Wade... only you can understand me at this moment", you sighed, looking towards his direction. He was still protecting his face with the hood. "I know, kiddo. I know. These are hard times, we gotta stay united when our heart is broken, our way to fight toxic masculinity", he ironically replied, you were starting to adore and admire his sense of humor, so sarcastic. Your cheeks couldn't help but blush, and your eyes shone in determination: you wanted to know who was hiding under that hood!

"Wade?", you softly called, shifting closer to him.

"Mh?", the man said, too distracted by the couple pigeons mating next to him.

"Do you believe in God?", you asked, particularly interested in his answers. You had a little smile on your face, your hands nervously pulling on the laces of your hoodie. Wade was about to turn towards you, but stopped right in the perfect moment to make you catch a glimpse of his face, his skin was oddly..reddish? You could hear him scoff as he adjusted his hood better around his face to hide more.

"Nah, I don't. It's some bullshit someone invented thousands of years ago to justify the fact a fourteen years old girl cheated on their daddy arranged husband and she's expecting a child that's not his", he answered, pretty annoyed.

His answer left you speechless, making you stare at him with wide eyes. The silence made him frown and slightly turn towards you, not enough to watch his face.

"Was it too much?", he asked. His voice made you snap back to reality, and you shook your head. You couldn't help but giggle, and get fidgety. He kind of had a point, you thought.

"I was just wondering... if our encounter was somehow planned up there, in the skies. Maybe some god, or some guardian, some planet decided it's the right time to, you know... heal us by making us meet," you smiled, blushing a bit. Your hand casually went meeting his as you spoke, surprised and relieved he wasn't pulling back. "Pretty corny, though, eh? Yet... it feels so right, and so made on purpose, I don't really think our encounter was casual, today. Think of it, Wade: both of us, on the edge of this bridge, both hurt for a tragedy related to our partners, on the verge of committing suici- OH, MY GOD!!" you yelped, once you finally paid attention to the fact Wade was finally facing you with his face on full display. Your heart was aching for how you were feeling about that face, but what a disgraceful sight that was: his skin was full of holes and wrinkles, and looked as if he had shoved his head in an air fryer. He looked like an avocado had sex with an older, more disgusting avocado.

He was looking at you with the eyes of who 100% expected that reaction from you: no offense, no anger. Just extreme annoyance, with an inch of self pity.

"I never said I want to commit suicide. You're the depressed emo, not me", the man retorted, his annoyance was obvious even from his tone, and his hand pulled back as he spoke. Perhaps, he was hoping 'till the last instant you wouldn't have that reaction at the sight of him.

Your face gained back color, turning from pale to a bright shameful red, and pulled your hand back too, like a dog you were putting a leash on to keep it from walking too close to strangers - too close to him.

"Y-yeah, I know! But, you see, you were sitting as the edge and... you seemed pretty defeated too, wrapped up in that shabby hoodie..." , you were saying, but Wade scoffed, his face showed offense.

"Excuse you! My hoodie is not shabby", he protested, wrapping himself tighter in that hoodie, and pouted. That expression widened a bunch of holes on his left cheek; that sight was disturbng, you had to collect all your strength not to gag right there and then.

There was silence again. The rain had stopped, making you realize both you and Wide were soaked.

"Maybe a lil' bit shabby... Anyway, no. Our encounter was not planned by some planet, and no, we're not soulmates, if that's what you were thinking", he blurted out, more annoyed.

"But I was just saying-", you tried to reply, but he got up, raising his hand to stop you from speaking. He inhaled as if he wanted to say something, but his phone started ringing. You were baffled when you heard the ringtone, reminding something of your childhood; maybe it was the Cooking Mama theme, or the Lelli Kelly shoes jingle, you weren't sure.

Wade grabbed his phone and stared at it for some second, letting it ring, before hanging up.

"Gotta go. Take care", he just said, and before you could say anything, he jumped off the bridge.

"WADE!!", you shouted, turning pale again in a matter of instants, but when you rushed to see where he landed, he disappeared. There was a big blood stain, but no trace of him.

You didn't see Wade around for a long time. You were often dreaming of him, like a feverish dream, and whoever you asked about him never heard of him.

You were starting to think he never existed.

Maybe he was just your conscience shouting at you that throwing yourself off a bridge wasn't the right choice, that your asshole ex didn't deserve the satisfaction to see you drown, and the fact your conscience looked like that was the fruit of your pitiful self-esteem? Maybe that's why he was so sure your encounter wasn't wanted by the universe...

You were keeping gaslighting yourself, for days, weeks. Your sister Lily couldn't take it anymore, you were taunting her by keeping repeating her about your encounter; she knew your words by heart like a theatre script, and ended up parroting you every time you told her about Wade for the nth time.

"Listen,", she once interrupted you, tired to hear the same thing again, "you clearly need some other company aside of me and your imaginary man, so tonight we're getting ready and we're going out. Got it?!"

You didn't have the courage to disobey, so you begrudgingly accepted her invitation, and together went to a bar; however, you weren't sure that going out with her was a good idea, the places she usually was in weren't that good, speaking in terms of safety.

The place she took you to was loaded with people, most of them were clearly drunk, and other were flirting or making out in some corner of the building, not too hidden from the crowd. Despite you were absolutely serving in your outfit, and perfectly mingling, if not outstanding most people in there, you felt so uncomfortable in there: that was definitely your sister's lifestyle, not yours, but that didn't deny the fact you were infinitely thankful to her for at least trying to cheer you up and distract you from your struggles.

Lily parked you at the counter, and paid you a couple drinks. You chose a Quattro Bianchi, not the best cocktail in terms of taste, but excellent to get quickly drunk.

As soon as the bartender served you the drink, you snatched the glass from his hands, and chugged the whitish liquid. The fact you drank quickly was starting to make you feel dizzy almost immediately, so you couldn't hold a loud groan and an expression of pure discomfort for the bad taste of the cocktail. The bartender looked at you with pity and annoyance, he knew that if you kept drinking like that you would have puked all over his counter, that he should have cleaned, but he wondered what happened to you to make you drink like that.

Soon an odd figure joined you and the other drunkards at the counter: he was dressed with a bright red suit, two black circles around his white eyes and two... katanas?! behind his back.

You looked at the second Quattro Bianchi you ordered, and gently pushed it away. It was giving you hallucinations.

But soon, some words slipped out of your lips without you to notice.

"Hello again, Wade", you muttered, immediately catching his attention. You couldn't see his expression under the red leather mask, but you could tell he was surprised. Meanwhile, you changed your mind about that whitish drinking, and you grabbed it again, starting avidly drinking it.

'Wade' slowed you down by holding the glass with his hand. "You have horrible taste 'bout drinks. That one you picked, it sucks", he commented, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"It's my second", you precised, feeling your face heating up for the drunkness. He scoffed and replied with a whispered "I can tell".

"Nice of you to appear again in my life... I, uh... I was afraid I was losing my mind. I was getting convinced you didn't exist... but here you are...! Coming back to me like nothing happened... how much it passed? Years?!" you exclaimed, raising your voice, but not noticing it. "Just a month", he replied, observing the fun show you were giving with you exaggerate hand gesture and stuttering.

"Just a month?! Damn... time flies when you're having fun...", you mumbled, obviously sarcastic. Wade scoffed again and snatched the drink off your hand to drink it. He lifted his mask to do so, so you were sure it was him, seeing his porous red skin scrunching around that glass.

"Will I look like one of Spongebob's relatives too if I drink from that glass now?", you asked, drunkness gave you courage to make fun of his appearance. He didn't seem too pleased by that comment at the beginning.

"I fucking hope so", he grinned, slamming the glass down in front of you, so the drink spilled all over the table. "Drink, if you have the courage. I'm contagious, I promise", he added.

You didn't hesitate to drink the rest of that cocktail.

His mug of beer arrived, and he drank it slowly.

"How did you know it was me?", he asked, his tone was genuinely curious, no irony. you shrugged. "I just felt it, like a sixth sense", you replied, gesturing something that was supposed to be a third eye opening on your forehead.

"Or maybe you guessed?", he giggled, making you blush even more, but you didn't want to give up on your gag. "Oh, no! I'm a psychic, that's the truth!", you insisted, so both of you laughed.

"Maybe it was", Wade then commented, after a brief pause, making you turn to him and raise an eyebrow. "It was... what was what?", you asked, and then ordered another drink.

"That encounter, last month. Maybe it was planned... and I'm starting to think this encounter was planned too. Dunno...", he told you, before taking a big gulp of beer. You chuckled, snorting a bit. "So what? Now we're soulmates?", you ironically asked. He shrugged.

"Maybe...", he murmured, but saw you had heard him. He cleared his voice. "M-maybe you drank too much", he corrected himself. But, who knows, maybe...

"I'll take you home", he said, pulling his mask back down. He thanked the red of his costume, it didn't let the others the blush on his face.

Tag list:

@darknessisafriend @indieblair @peakyfuckingblinders21 @ajokeformur-ray @fly-like-a-phoenix @jokerflecker @five-miles-over @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 @jokerownsmysoul @pursuit-of-comedy @hebimoonlightwrites

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darknessisafriend · 6 days

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First time reading a deadpool fic and fuck I enjoyed it! Makes me miss the movies!

My masterlist-

My requests are now open!

Here again the available characters for the requests:

JOAQUIN PHOENIX FANDOM

Jimmy Emmett (To Die For)

Commodus (Gladiator)

Abbé de Coulmier (Quills)

Arthur Fleck (Joker)

Max California (8MM)

Doug Holt (Inventing the Abbotts)

Willie Gutierrez (The Yards)

Clay Bidwell (Clay Pigeons)

OTHER FANDOMS

Sebastian Henshaw (The Spy Who Dumped Me)

Deadpool / Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

Martin Whitly (Prodigal Son)

Tate Langdon (American Horror Story S1)

Steven Grant / Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes (I haven't seen Enola Holmes 2 sry))

You can ask me for fluff, smut, angst, and particular kinks, so feel free to ask!

Also, you can suggest me for more fandoms ^^

ARTHUR FLECK

Arthur w/ a cartoonist s/o HeadCanons : You are an independent cartoonist and have a lot of work, you often finish in the middle of the night. Arthur wants to participate your project, and shows you his gratitude.

Ideological Disability // Arthur's Opinion! //, pt. 1 , pt.2 , pt.3 : What if Arthur found the courage to face Thomas Wayne in a very very cynical way? Maybe teasing Thomas’s “cultural” side, that side that he shows with so much vanity? Maybe the citizens may be way more cultured than him.

Arthur w/ dom s/o - request

Don't Leave Me (ff on AO3) [deleted, will re-write it]

Arthur flirting with Y/N - request

Age gap with Arthur - request

Arthur/Joker dating headcanons - request

SHORT - A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished - request

Arthur x gn green eyes reader - request

ABBÉ DE COULMIER

Abbé de Coulmier x Reader // Childhood friends HCs : Madeleine doesn’t appreciate it, but you’ve been known the Abbé for a very long time.

Maybe you're right. (Abbé x Best Friend!Reader): The Abbé is tired of the Marquis’s writings and you cheer him up.

Riddle of Time, pt.1 , pt.2 , pt.3 , pt.4 , pt.5 : Charenton hides hundreds of secret, and so every person in there do.

Protège-moi (Fluff / Abbé de Coulmier x Reader), pt.1 , pt.2 : You are the betrothed of a man that you don’t even know, and the Abbé has a fit of weird and passionate jealousy for you. He sees you as someone to protect at all costs.

The Prince and the Rascal, pt.1 , pt.2 , pt.3, pt.4 : The Abbé is the victim of a fugitive’s insistent attention, and he's not the best at handling his avances.

Abbé w/ pregnant reader - request

Crazy Abbé x Director!Reader - request (pt.1 , pt.2)

JIMMY EMMETT

Turn-ons for Jimmy Emmett, Max California and Willie Gutierrez - request

Jimmy and Reader to the prom - request

SHORT - A kiss that lasts so long, they are sharing each other's breath - request

MAX CALIFORNIA

Turn-ons for Jimmy Emmett, Max California and Willie Gutierrez - request

Max helps his the reader with studying - request

COMMODUS

Commodus enjoys being a sub - request

WILLIE GUTIERREZ

Be my secret Valentine - request

Turn-ons for Jimmy Emmett, Max California and Willie Gutierrez - request

Willie being jealous of his s/o - request

SHORT - Tucking their hands beneath the other person's shirt, just to see them break the kiss and gasp in surprise at the sensation of cold/warm hands on their skin - request

WADE WILSON

Was it planned? - request

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darknessisafriend · 12 days

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Has your #1 comfort character committed a crime?

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darknessisafriend · 12 days

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Joaquin Phoenix for Detour, year 1996

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darknessisafriend · 13 days

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I'm nobody. I haven't done anything with my life like you have.

JOKER: FOLIE À DEUX (2024) dir. Todd Phillips

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darknessisafriend · 14 days

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Hi Mun 👋🏼 just found your blog off some tags lol

I would love it if you could do an age gap hc for joker? How would Arthur deal with developing feelings for a partner who is 10 or even 15 years younger than him?

Thank you so much!

Thanks for your patience, anon! I truly appreciate it. Also, Arthur's head canon turned into a bit of a fic, so I apologize for that.

Headcanon: Arthur Fleck Having an S/O Younger Than Him

"ID Please."

While Arthur accompanied you to the grocery store after your shift at work, you bought a bottle of wine to enjoy with the dinner you planned to cook for Arthur. He was coming over to your apartment for the first time, and you wanted to spoil him with a recipe you saw on a cooking show. So you bought all the ingredients, and a bottle of red.

The cashier glanced at you. "You're twenty-two huh? You look like you should be in high school."

You shook your head, flustered. "Um...thanks?"

After paying, you quickly left the store with your bagged groceries. But just when you reached for Arthur's hand, he flinched.

You didn't think much of it at first, but when you tried to talk to Arthur about something, he simply shrugged it off and said it was nothing

The truth is that, Arthur was still processing the fact that you were in your early twenties.

He knew you were a young beautiful woman, smart and kind. A total catch. And that part of Arthur, the part of his mind that told him he was an outcast and fed him nothing but negative thoughts, constantly said, "She could do so much better than you. You don't deserve her at all. She's the whole package, and what are you? Just some guy who can't even take her out to dinner."

He tried to hold it back as he saw other, bigger guys in Gotham walking with their partners, giving them bouquets of flowers wrapped in shiny plastic and other gifts, telling himself that someday he would do exactly that with you. But knowing that you were at ten years younger than him? That was just more fuel to the fire burning inside him.

"She's got her whole life ahead of her. She's going to find someone better, wait and see." The negative thoughts materialized again. "She's just with you out of pity. Date the sad clown, maybe she just wants to fool around. Wait and see. She's going to meet someone with a lot of money, a lot of status...She'll marry him, and when they're all sitting around at cocktail parties, she'll laugh about the time she dated a sad clown. And say she dodged a bullet."

"Arthur?" You tried to get his attention, and repeated his name a couple of times. "Arthur?"

Arthur, seemingly lost in thought, didn't respond until you stood in front of him, stopping him from crossing the street. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he lied. You crossed your arms, not having any of it. And this made Arthur laugh a bit, not out of amusement but out of fear. "Nothing, really," he lied again between laughs.

"Just tell me."

After a few moments of silence, Arthur simply asked. "Are you really twenty-two?...You're twenty-two."

"Yes. I am."

"That's young."

You shifted your weight to one foot. "I know that."

Arthur mirrored your gesture and swallowed. "So...well, I don't care. It's just young."

"I'm not that young," you rebuffed.

"Young enough that the cashier thinks you're in high school."

You put your hands on your hips, still carrying the bags of groceries. "Is that what this is about? He wasn't hitting on me!"

"No, but someone will," Arthur raised his voice a little. "You're young, what the hell do you know?"

"I know that you're my boyfriend and I love you. I don't care what some cashier says about me, and neither should you."

He shook his head. God how he loved the way you'd get so stubborn about your opinions. It was one of his favorite things about you, but right now, in this moment, it made him even more annoyed. How could you say such a thing, lying through your teeth? And with those three special words? "Bullshit," Arthur muttered, walking away from you to cross the street.

You followed him, huffing with your groceries. "Arthur Fleck, what is wrong with you?! Can't you just...Why are you so mad? Nothing happened! I'm still the same person I was twenty minutes ago."

"No. You're twenty-two." He turned around and lashed out. "You're twelve years younger than I am. What the hell's wrong with you? Hanging around with some old clown, waiting until some rich guy makes you his wife and you can leave me behind!" Your eyes widened. "Is that what you think of me?" Your lips quivered and tears formed in your eyes. "Is that seriously what you think this is, just...hanging around? Oh my god." You looked down as you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Arthur visibly softened, reaching his hand out but stopping himself just before he could touch you. "I'm such an idiot," you sniffed. "You're right, what do I know?" "I'm sorry," Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Arthur looked down, into your eyes. "I...was just shocked that you were younger. I thought it would...I don't deserve you. You're great, you're a perfect girl and I don't deserve you." He added, "I love you so damn much."

"I love you too," you looked up. "And I don't want to leave you." He laughed for a few moments with pain in his eyes, and bit the inside of his cheek to quiet down. "I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated and put his hands on your shoulders. "Oh my god, please don't cry. I'm so sorry." He took your grocery bags in his hands. "Let's go."

You and Arthur went back to your apartment, and didn't talk about your age for the rest of the night. But you did spend the evening together, telling each other - and showing each other - how much you really loved each other.

Joker Having an S/O Younger Than Him Would Include...

In complete contrast to Arthur, Joker finding out you were ten or fifteen years younger than him would excite him

He'd turn it into a complete kink, calling you his "personal little baby doll"

Whenever you'd go out, you'd be on his lap, him stroking your thighs and your hair.

Unless you were absolutely against the aesthetic, Joker would love to dress you in coquettish clothing - plaid mini skirts, knee-high white socks, white and pastel blouses that he would ruin with grease facepaint while making out with you, and corsets he would rip off you before having his way with you

And if you ever called him "daddy"? Watch out and be prepared to be dragged into the most private area by the Joker. Hope you didn't have any plans for the next...hour

In general, the Joker would be extremely protective of you, keeping his arm around your waist while you walked.

He'd spoil you with anything you ever wanted, acting almost like your sugar daddy while you window shopped.

And when it got cold, he'd put his red suit jacket over your shoulders saying, "Daddy's not going to let his baby doll freeze."

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darknessisafriend · 14 days

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Thoughts on Harley

To me it seems like Harley is only playing Arthur. I am not sure if she has a plan right from the start or if she changes towards the end but from everything we've seen so far.... There is nothing trustworthy about her. From the leaks we've seen to the teaser trailer.....

"I havent done anything with my life like you have" .....we cant know if she is actually saying so or if he only imagines her saying it BUT eighter way it seems like she envys him for being a well known criminal. She is always calling him Joker. We havent heard her calling him Arthur once. She might be only looking up to him as some kind of symbol. A popular criminal she wants to be herself. That makes sense whe we consider how she seems to copy him all the time. Yes, some of the things she copys can be in his head too. That is true. But I think that most of the things happening in the reality parts will look pretty rough while the delusions have a different set up, lightening and wardrobe....This might be a huge difference to the first movie.

It also seems to me like she is pushing him to get into "Joker mode" , which he is clearly not when they met. His fits of laughter are back and he seems like Arthur through and through. She tells him "You can do anything you want, youre Joker" which sounds like she is literally talking him into commiting more crimes. Her "I wanna see the real you" also hints to her wanting him to get into Joker mode.

I know there is great discussion about who is the "real" person. Arthur or Joker. Which I always looked at as kinda meaningless because theyˋre the same person. Joker is the result of Arthurs trauma, his copying mechanism but most of all...Joker is Arthur at his breaking point! Do you wanna see the person you love so traumatized, so hurt and broken that he is reaching that point? Do you tell him to get worse and commit more crimes? No you donˋt. We are not speaking fictional here. Not about a fan fiction in which you fantasize to do wild stuff on his side.....we talk about love and loving someone and what it means. Harley wanting to see his real face like she claims is nothing else than her pushing him to get into Joker mode . So she can have a part of it. She wants her 5 minutes of fame as Jokers girlfriend. And we dont know yet what happens but as we saw in the leaks.....she will turn against him eventually. If they use the exact scene from the leaks in the Bronx she will even hand him to the cops.

There will be a huge diiference about their real relationship and the relationship during the delusions. Reality will not be romantic, it will be painful.

I think that Arthur is falling in love with her because he finally has a hand to hold. And she is sharing his delusions because she wanted to be like Joker. And being his girlfriend is as close as it gets. I think he will trust her and she will betray him. It will be hard to watch him get hurt again. But it wil be better for them to go seperate ways in the end because I dont want him to be with someone who is not loving him the way he deserves to be loved.

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darknessisafriend · 17 days

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Commodus the whore of the Empress Part 4 Commodus x Reader

I never planned to make another part of this wonderful story but suddenly a few ideas popped up. So, I hope you will enjoy it! less smutty than the previous chapters but a lot of erotic tension there with a touch of angst ;)

For the newbies this is an imagine of a AU where Commodus falls from grace, you become Empress and he becomes your pleasure slave. However things are not so easy. (link to part 1, 2 ; 3 here)

Months passed as you kept enjoying your slave. Now people had forgotten the fallen emperor and only saw the slave, not even minding him as they crossed his path and perhaps that was a mistake, at least that’s what you had started thinking. Commodus was freely going around, sharing your bed every night, going unnoticed like any slaves except for his beauty, he was happy, it was obvious to you now, he had that peaceful air in his eyes, that discreet smile on his lips. It bothered you…he must have a plan in mind, something to run away, take back power even and you had to do something about it. You had to remind him who was in charge and what was his place.

“You asked to see me?” asked Commodus as he bowed his head at you as he always did. His face remained neutral as he felt a change in the atmosphere, he didn’t feel your warmth, he felt as if he was facing a wall.

“Indeed. I’ve realized we missed something truly important in your current status.” You announced, and nodded at a man he hadn’t noticed. The man was richly dressed and yet his hands were covered in dark smudges, coal perhaps, he was probably a blacksmith. Commodus widened his eyes as he saw that the man held an iron collar in his hands with a tag in the middle, like any slave collar of the Roman Empire; on it could be read: If I flee, return me to my master, Emperess Y/N.

He looked at you and then back at the collar and then at you again before dropping to his knees and deeply bowing “Thank you, my Empress.” He said fervently, earning a frown from you and the blacksmith, never you had heard of a slave thanking such gesture. “Don’t be absurd. Let’s see if I have you branded with a hot iron will make you thank me.” You spat a threat, believing he was exaggerating to obtain your favors. You even put your foot on his crotch, making him retain a hum of pleasure.

“Still…I would feel honored to be branded with your name.” he replied with the same passion. You eyed him, your heart beating faster both in frustration and flatter, like a young girl under the power of love. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand your ground, be harsh, a master and not a friend, so you cut short to the conversation.

“Enough. I have other matters to attend, go away.” You stated, waving at Commodus dismissively. You briefly made eye contact with him, you could read a certain confusion like a puppy who didn’t understand the situation and was simply begging for caresses.

The silence lasted for a few seconds as if he wanted to try to remain by your side like he usually did, ready to fulfill your every needs. But he soon understood you were being serious, you didn’t want his presence, maybe it was due to some political meeting, he thought. In that case his presence would be an insult to both parties.

The morning passed slowly; you had grown irritated on your way to the Senate. The absence of Commodus was cruelly felt; that man had managed to make himself indispensable to you and on purpose you thought; how could you have been so stupid as to let yourself being seduced by your worst enemy!? Let him share your bed? He could kill you anytime and he would surely attempt soon, once you would be blindly in love with him, perhaps after changing his political status.

A headache started splitting your skull as you listened to the incessant speeches of the senators. To the point you hadn’t noticed a presence, the clear eyes of Commodus watching you from the service corridor; he was worried. You disliked the senators as much he did, but he noticed something else was making thoughtful, upset. The slaves rarely entered the auditorium except to serve wine and a few necessities or wave a fan during high heat. However Commodus decided to enter, he had never done it since his fall, under your express order, most Senators had wished him dead and seeing him would feel like seeing a ghost threatening their lives. Usually, you secretly granted him to accompany you to watch, today you hadn’t seen he had come as well.

He silently approached, ignoring the scandalized look of some politicians, others terrified of him. He was carrying a bowl of hot water infused with herbs and a piece of cloth inside to apply to your head and sooth the pain.

You didn’t notice his presence at first “No. The pleb wellbeing matters to me and the money we invest on that will be rewarded by their loyalty and economic growth of the south of the city.” You stated, glad most senators had gone silent. Well, until you noticed it wasn’t related to your words. You turned your head in the direction of their gazes and saw Commodus waiting obediently by your side, a bowl of warm water in his hands. All colors left your face at first, what was he doing in front of the Senate!? tending to you as if you were some weak poor thing!?

“What. Are. You. Doing here?” you gritted your teeth, your cheeks turning red from anger, your heart racing from stress. You could feel everyone’s gaze on you, expecting a proper response, wondering what’s the next mistake you would make, anything to discredit you. Commodus only seemed to realize now that prioritizing your wellbeing over politics was a mistake, he had put you in an uncomfortable position. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth, but no words came out, no he had to do better. He dropped the bowl which splashed water all over him and threw himself on the ground, as low as he could, his forehead on the cold marble of the Senate…who knew he would ever bow in that damn building. A senator scoffed at the sight, satisfied to see the arrogant Commodus reduced to this.

“Get that…away from this sacred auditorium.” You snarled angrily, your chest filled with anxiety, your emotions as conflicted as ever, how much you should express your anger? How much should you control yourself?

“What a nice entertainment. I have to admit I enjoy this sight more than his dead body.” Commented Falco, making other Senators laugh. The man that you didn’t trust had actually helped you in that moment, turning this situation into nothing but a funny pause between debates. Commodus ignored the humiliations, what mattered now was to sooth you and he had made things worse! He kept his eyes on the ground as he was dragged back to the service area, receiving a hard push against the wall, a warning to not overstep again…

On your way back to the palace in the afternoon, you sat in the Lectica, a palanquin just big enough for you and another person, who turned out to be Commodus in that moment. You were looking out, behind the thin cotton curtains, anything but the one sitting in front of you, despite the hours passing after the incident. Commodus gaze was locked on you, expecting “I merely wanted to relieve your headache.” He said at first, his words making you groan in response.

“You came to stand in front of the Senators, you, that fallen Emperor, showing care for me. You think of it as normal task as a slave but to their eyes it is defiance to them, it shows I give you too much importance, trust. How long before they start saying that you are my lover? That you are the one speaking in the shadows and I am merely the mouth repeating your words?” you spoke in a hushed tone, yet your anger could be felt, you felt vulnerable, being a leading woman in Rome was hard already, you didn’t need this. You raised your hand before Commodus could answer “I do not want any excuse or lies from you. Cease to annoy me, I am starting to regret keeping you alive already.” You muttered, not seeing how his sorry gaze had turn into hurt, his knuckles turning white. Why that change of attitude from you? What had bug had stung you? He swallowed down, remaining silent for the rest of the trip, his mind searching his memories to try to find the precise gesture, care or even word that would have displeased you.

Once you reached the palace, you walked fast, wanting to isolate yourself, your emotions were taking over your rationality and that was something you tried to avoid, especially when it involved yourself. Commodus followed, back inside the palace he didn’t have to hide and intended on obtaining answers.

“Your Highness is there something I did wrong to anger you?” he asked clearly, making you slow down your pace, not looking at him ‘Stop pretending that you care’ you thought.

“I know what you are. Cut the act, no need to pretend anymore.” You stated instead, stopping, your back to him, you had heard him come to a halt a few steps behind you, but closer than a slave, more intimate. There was a silence for a few seconds, as if he was trying to understand your words.

“Pretend? Empress I am not pretending, I have never been h-…”

“Oh please stop!” you cut him off, squeezing your eyes and clenching your jaw ‘Drop your mask Commodus…make me hate you, it will be easier’ you prayed in your mind. “But what did you think Commodus?! That I care about you? That I feel some sympathy for your cause?! Leave.” You spoke angrily, refusing to look at him, your gaze would betray your inner turmoil too much. You walked again intending to go away for good.

But he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks, the surprise gesture made you face him, revealing your teary eyes “Y/N aren’t you seeing you are becoming like me?! Paranoid and alone! That’s when you are becoming the weakest!” he exclaimed, he wanted to enlighten you, warn you of the danger. His expression softened the moment he saw your eyes, why were you on the verge of tears? You turned your head to gather yourself, then looking at him dead in the eyes, furious.

“You dare!” you yelled in front of slaves and guards, he had touched you, called you by your name, as equals. It was abnormal and the praetorians had instantly unsheathed their swords and approached, seizing him hard enough to make him let go of you, the pommel of the sword violently hitting his belly to make him kneel painfully. You panted, his gesture had scared you, and your ego was hit.

“I think I was too tender to my slave. Remind him of his status. 10 lashes.” You dropped under the emotion, anger, fear, pain mixing all together into an explosive adrenaline. Commodus face was livid as he was dragged to the stake reserved for corporal punishments et executions, a crowd of curious courtesans gathering to watch, the word of the flogging would the ears of all in few hours.

He panted as the rope around his wrists was tightly pulled, it was impossible for him to move. Except for a few beatings when he fell, he had never suffered any physical punishment, he was barely comprehending what was happening. He had only asked to understand what was happening to you, wanting to save you from the paranoia he had suffered, why did you punish him for it? You used to treat him with tolerance and kindness…had he been wrong from the start? Did he imagine things? Was he fooled by you just like he had been fooled by his father…? His trail of thoughts was cut short by the first hit of the whip, tearing away the air from his lungs, a surprised cry of pain escaping his mouth, followed by a groan as to try to recover but the second lash came already.

You watched the scene, conscious the Court was watching too, the Empress hurting the fallen emperor who had become a slave, showing to all he was indeed just a slave, nothing more to your eyes. Your fists were clenched, each crack of the whip resonating in your skull, your eyes filled with the bloody back of Commodus. You felt agony, dread, and power, your darkest self finding satisfaction while the other wanted to stop the slave master from accomplishing the task you had ordered.

Soon, Commodus grew quiet, too in pain to react, barely able to remain conscious, the reality of the situation had hit him way harder than the whip. You had ordered this. His legs gave up under his weight after the last hit.

Soon, the Court left, amused, satisfied by the sight and ready to spread word of the drama within the imperial palace. Only you remained and the slave master who joined you for the next orders. “Have the doctors treat his wounds, I want him back on his feet as soon as possible.” You hushed, the blood pumping in the ears of Commodus prevented him from hearing anything. The next thing he knew was that you were standing in front of him, one lash had split his lip open; you seized his jaw to look at him in the eyes.

You contained your surprise as you were met with an empty gaze clouded with pain, you had expected anger, fierceness. “You are only alive because I want to remind you how much you failed.” You spoke, your thumb erasing the blood trickling down his chin, and bring the drop to your lips, tasting him, wanting to provoke a reaction from him. “You belong to me Commodus, I have the right of life and death, of your pain and your pleasure…I had to do this. I hope you will understand later my decision. Sincerely.” You spoke, only for him to hear; he didn’t react, only looking at you in the eyes with an infinite air of betrayal. You leaned closer, kissing him roughly, tasting more of his blood which felt even more exquisite when a whimper died against your lips, despite everything Commodus was still yearning for your touch. You slowly parted, he was on the verge of passing out, his gaze even more filled with pain, yet you felt great pleasure in the power you had over him, he was indeed completely at your mercy, and you were the one in control, still. You grinned somehow reassure that you were still the master, that if you decided to fuck him right now, or to end his life, you could. However, his lips moved, pronouncing your name so weakly you couldn’t it. You saw his eyes still bore nothing else than pain and…devotion? doubt and guilt sprouted in your mind, was he right? Were you being touched by the same illness as his?

For the rest of the day Commodus laid in the infirmary, on his stomach, silent. The pain in his heart was stronger than the one of the torn flesh of his back. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened, about you, and he hated it.

“One must be a fool to talk back to the Empress that way. Or desperate. And I believe you are not a fool.” Commented the doctor who took care of him, he had known him when he was Emperor and still treated him as such, never he had dared to call him by his name which is something Commodus regretted, that doctor was probably what he had the closest to a friend.

“I thought she cared about me, Galen…I thought we…” he murmured sadly, you hadn’t even let him explain himself.

“Just because a master appreciates the work of his slave doesn’t mean they care for the person behind it.” Replied Galen, looking at him with compassion. He was still seeing the young boy craving the approval of those he loved. Like a stray dog, wagging its tail when receiving a bone to chew after receiving a beating. “Listen, what I- your highness!” he interrupted himself standing up at your view and bowing in respect. He swallowed down, not knowing for how long you had stood there.

“How is he?” you asked, seeing Commodus’ hands clenching the bedsheets. You approached delicately laying your fingers on the sensitive and red skin of his back, goosebumps appearing at your contact, was it from anticipation? Pleasure?

“I would say that thankfully to the weakness of the slave master, the whip didn’t tear any muscle, mostly just the skin, deeply. He will need many weeks to recover fully, 6 weeks at least, the scars will remain forever. I apologize for not being able to do better and faster.” Bowed again Galen, probably the man didn’t know what to think of you, you had visited him very little after all. “He will be able to stand and do basic chores in about 3 days.” He added, hoping it was enough to satisfy you.

“It is fine. I do not need him for now.” You answer, your eyes detailing the body of your slave, you wanted to punish the slave master for hitting too low which ended up in scarring Commodus left butt cheek. Your fingers traced around it, slowly going up his back on the sensitive skin again but careful to avoid touching the deepest wounds. Your fingers ended up burying in his damp curls, Commodus was hiding his face in the crook of his arms, his breathing faster, you could feel his desire, his fear, or perhaps he was trembling of rage to have failed to betray you? you wanted to be sure of it “Commodus, look at me.” You commanded; your voice not as authoritative as you wished it to be. He unveiled his eyes, infinite sadness in them, confusion. “Talk freely.” You added, doubt stronger in your mind, you worried, had you done a terrible mistake?

“Your highness…I do not understand the sudden change in the way you treat me. Fine I overstepped earlier but I needed answers and I believe you didn’t tell me the whole truth.” He spoke first, his voice broken from the cries he let out during the flogging. “Yes, I hated you when you humiliated me with worse than an execution, turning me into a slave, all I wanted was to wait for the proper moment to kill you. Make you pay.” He admitted at first, but his easiness made you understand it was only a brief thought of his “When I did my best to serve you, earn your trust. I discovered something else…about myself.” He smiled bitterly as if he hated that part of him “I bloody enjoyed serving you. Receiving your orders, receiving a pat on the head when I did exceptionally good. I had to think of nothing but your satisfaction. I was alive, living in a palace, giving pleasure to a beautiful woman who offered me her protection…what a dream it turned out to be. Now, for no reason you take it all away. Was it all part of your plan? To give me an illusion of peace and happiness, to take it all away from me after, to watch me crumble...?” he asked, his voice slightly trembling. You were taken by surprise; you had expected him to admit he was planning treason but not the opposite. You found yourself unable to hold his gaze, you had to admit you had no more strength to face him.

“Thank you for your honesty, Commodus.” You articulated, turning you head which he took badly, his heart aching even more, you didn’t even grant him a look anymore, when he had been the most vulnerable, admitting how he felt. You quickly left the infirmary, practically running to your chambers. Once the doors closed, you leaned against it, a shaky breath escaping your mouth. You passed a hand over your face, your lower lip trembling as realization hit you, you had reacted excessively, paranoia had infected your mind…

In the middle of the night

The imperial palace was silent except for the cracking of the torches on the walls, the occasional wind on the light curtains, the yawning of a guard…

Commodus hadn’t fallen asleep for the whole time, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, about that last conversation with him, comforting his doubts that indeed you had just played him just like his father did. He clenched his jaw, the moon was high in the sky, it was time. He stood up with difficulty, his back ached and his skin irritated by the slightest movement. But he would take care of that later. First, he had to kill you.

He exited the infirmary, the half sleeping guards paid no attention to him, slaves go on and about freely at any time of the day to serve their masters and you had not instructed any restrictions for him. He walked with an assured step and went to your chambers. He quietly opened the doors, his movements precise, he was an excellent hunter after all. His heart skipped a beat as he didn’t find you asleep but sitting at your study, tired as you wrote under the candlelight.

Before you knew it, you felt a cold blade against your jugular, the exact same blade you hid under your pillow “I was wondering if you would come.” You said, knowing it was Commodus, it was to be expected after all, you thought it was well earned.

“Here I am.” He murmured, keeping the blade against your throat and coming to stand in front of you, making eye contact. He noticed your eyes were red but your breathing calm. He swallowed down, his eyes becoming wet “All I ever inspired in my life wasn’t to rule, but to be loved, appreciated for who I am. I would give away my freedom a thousand times, be humiliated every day as long as you loved me back.” He sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek, he didn’t just enjoy being your slave, he had fallen in love with you. “I trusted you, I…you have no idea how happy I was when you ask me to sleep with you for the first time. I was being considered. Now I realize how disgusted how you must have felt, having to share your bed with me, the one who had humiliated you. How you moaned my name and spread your legs just to make me think I had to slightest importance to your eyes. Cruel but genius, I have to praise that.” He smiled bitterly, his body trembling with anger and pain.

“Commodus...there was no such plan-” you started but he pressed the blade harder against your throat, he didn’t want to have false hope again.

“Shut up!” he hushed angrily, a drop of blood trickling down your neck, the blade was sharp. He leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours, kissing you sweetly, almost like the kiss of Judas. You let him do, willing to face him, let him obtain vengeance. “I am going to kill you. But before that I have only one thing to ask, and if you have some honor, you will grant me this last wish.” He spoke softly, his tone on the edge of begging. It could make one wonder if Commodus was the one in control of the situation or you.

“Tell me. I wish to repay the wrong I cause you these past days.” You agreed truthfully, looking at him in the eyes, which Commodus seemed to hate even more.

“Why must you only look at me now? If you had the guts to look at me earlier, I wouldn’t be standing with a blade under your throat, I would be on my knees, begging you to forgive for whatever wrong I did to you.” He said fondly before pulling himself together. “I want you to be my master one last time. Order me around, be rough, make me take you, everything as you usually did. Make me feel as you seemed to care for me, only me.” He requested, firm and desiring. Once again you had been wrong, you had expected him to request that you make public excuses or such, but no, once again he only wanted you, only you.

You teared up as you nodded, flashing a brief smile, how much you regretted hurting him that way. He kept the dagger in his hand as you focused, taking a deep breath to get back in your role of Empress. “Well, aren’t you greeting your mistress Commodus?” you asked, containing your emotions as much as you could as you usually did. His eyes lit up, glad you were satisfying his last wish, he knelt, dagger in hand as he deeply bowed, his forehead hitting the floor.

“Forgive me Empress. This lowly slave was too stricken by your return and is happy.” He said fervently, kissing your feet and ankles. You smiled, retaining tears, you had messed up everything, that beautiful bond that you had built, perhaps the only person you could trust in the end. You put your hand on his hair, caressing the curls.

“Look at me.” You stated, making your hold of his hair stronger to lift his head, his pupils were dilated exquisitely, despite the fact that some of his wounds had reopened, bleeding on the white marble. “Good boy.” You praised and stood up, going closer to the bed, offering your back to him, if he decided to stab you right now, then so be it.

He stood up, approaching you from behind, so close you could feel his breath on your neck and sending shivers down your spine. You swallowed down, finding yourself wishing something …different from usual “Undress me. Do it as if we were equals.” You ordered quietly, anticipation building in your belly as he didn’t act at first. Then, you felt his arms wrapping around you from behind, squeezing you, the blade in his hand pressing against your belly, making you tremble slightly. He did nothing but hug you, his lips tracing kisses along your jugular, licking the blood from the cut, sucking your skin.

“I will mark you tonight. I was always careful to hide our whereabouts. But tonight, all will know you bedded a slave, the former emperor.” He murmured in your ear, leaving red spots on your skin. The blade moved under the binding of your stola, cutting the expensive clothing and making the fabric slide along your naked body. His blade left a small cut on your belly, making you gasp and quickly turn around, slapping him. He didn’t stop you and instead smirked “You marked me with your whip. Can’t I mark you with my blade?” he asked, condescending.

“A slave doesn’t mark his master.” You replied, red with fluster.

“Not equal anymore? My apologize, my Empress, you get so confusing at times.” He answered with a sneer, even if his tone wasn’t sincere like his usual slave attitude, he was having fun in teasing you.

“Don’t question me. Make love to me.” You stated, not realizing the words you had picked. But it touched Commodus deeply and his attitude went back to a submitted one, wanting to savor your body one last time.

He made you lay on the bed, kissing each part of your body as he made his way on top of you, memorizing it. It could have been like this forever, yet you had ruined everything and yet he still struggled to understand why, he knew you hid something to him. And he would make you talk right before killing you. He kissed your breast, soft and round, his teeth lingering on your nipples as his hands parted your legs, settling his body between them. Galen would be mad at him for reopening his wounds but well, he would probably be executed for killing the Empress anyway. You detailed him, your nails slowly scratching the skin of his chest, then, you grabbed his chin, quickly pulling him closer, crashing your lips against his, another painful kiss. You gasped as he penetrated you with one push, your fingers burying in his hair, your legs wrapping around him, pulling him deeper inside you. He grabbed hold of your legs, his hips giving rough pushes, he was venting, expressing all the passion and rage he held for you. One of your hands moved to his back, your fingertips on his wounds, making them bleed again, some crimson drops landing on your body.

“Argh…yes…highness!” his groan of pain strangled by moan of pleasure. His teeth biting your lower lip in return. That embrace was passionate, illegal…desperate. Yet, it was perhaps the most honest one you ever had, actions speaking more than words clumsily said.

The imperial bedroom was filled with pants, groans, gasps and moans, both inflicting pain and pleasure to each other. There was no tenderness, it was raw. And as fast as it started, it soon stopped. There had been no pause, nothing. And for long minutes, no words were spoken between the two of you, panting, his suffering body had collapsed on top of your, drenched in sweat. His head buried in your neck once again, he knew what he had to do but now he wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to do it, besides you still had to talk…you sensed his hesitation and decided to break the ice, not to save your life but to rather to be honest at least whatever you died or not, things would be clear.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke, your hand gently reaching to massage the back of his head “You were right, I great paranoid, just like you did before.” You said first, you could feel your heart beating faster against his as you were about to add something “I also...felt opposite emotions…I was furious at you for what you did to me and yet…I knew I had to do something to protect you.” You revealed, feeling him stiffen against your body. He lifted his head, a frown on his face, his eyes searching yours, trying to make sense of your words.

“What did I do to make you feel like this?” he asked, sincerely curious and touched. Could all of this had been a huge misunderstanding? or something else big enough to provoke her reaction? You took a deep breath, apprehensive of his reaction, your life and the future of the Empire would lie in his hands.

“The truth was I was terrified of…our relationship. Commodus, I am pregnant with your child.”

Thoughts? theories? next part? I'd be very happy if you comment, like or reblog ^^^love y'all

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