Summary: Joseph Quinn Character Spring fic exchange | You enjoy the sweet spoils of your recent victory against the Romans.
Warnings: BDSM dynamics, pet play (mostly endearing nicknames), furniture play, power dynamics, amnesia
Notes: My entry for the @jqficexchange, dedicated to @sweetpeapod! I hope you enjoy our sweet subby Geta! A thousand apologies for this being so late 😭
Credit to: @bronzewasp for the divider! <3
Specks of dirt and insects barely visible to the mortal eye crawled between his toes as the man dragged his feet across the forest. His was torn in some places, scaled bronze armor dented and riddled with slashes glinted in the daylight, and in one hand he fidgeted with coins lathered in blood. His breathed was ragged as he looked up at the mid-day sun. Much more blinding than before, he thought, and getting hotter. I must find shelter - before nightfall - this, he knew without telling him or being told. What am I doing here in the first place? He was a soldier or else fighting, perhaps. But what rank, army?
It was many miles and hours, what felt like miles upon miles and hours upon hours in the hot evening sun, though speckled through the bright forests as it settled. Not many animals scurried across his footing, mostly underbrush. Sweat prickled the back of his neck and at various points down his back. His feet grew sore and began to blister when the sound of running water - a stream! Or, perhaps, a river? It was soft and trickling. No, not-so powerful as a rushing river. He gathered what strength he had to hurry the few dozen yards left, metal clattering and against the damp tunic. Such a blessing: of a splash of sweet, cold stream water on his burning skin!
He dropped to his knees on the bank, finally glimpsing at his reflection. He had no helmet, his face burnt and lined with a ginger stubble. He played with the short red locks, sticky and crisp with a darker, metallic-smelling crimson and brown. Oh, gods. He rinsed his hands in the stream, cupping some water to drink and then another to wash himself. Where he'd gotten the wound, if it was before or after he'd fallen or taken that strayed him from his supposed soldiers, he couldn't remember. He looked at the coins, now-clean bronze bearing visages - one unlike him, and another bearing a similar visage, though he couldn't tell for sure.
Shouting came from behind him in the distance, a language he vaguely recognized. But no matter: the cadence he knew was urgent and predatory as a hunter's call, followed by the clattering and stomping of said hunters. He shoved his helmet on and bolted from the stream. Faster, faster...They were gaining on him! He couldn't go on for much longer, not with the layers of armor and gods-knows-how long without food.
Just as the soldiers' yells were fading behind him, his foot got caught. He cried out and braced himself as he fell, the rotting vine snapping and slightly launching him forward a few inches, dragging face across the ground.
Darkness.
------
Soft spring heat billowed through the torn sheets covering the large openings in the wall. Rays of moonlight tempered by the red dye spilled onto the marble floor and wall in waves of light red. The candle on your desk radiated a strong, hot flame illuminating your wax tablet, a letter to your sister asking of her well-being, since she's come down sick with Typhus, according to her husband. Your desk twitched beneath you, a soft whimper emitting from him, and your stylus slipped, embedding deeper and stretching the last letter off the tablet. You gave a long sigh.
"I was not done with my sentence, pet." You chided. His fingers dared to move slightly as your sandal inched toward them. "Now I must start over again!"
"I-I am sorry, your majesty." Geta apologized, barely speaking above the howling wind.
"Apologize to my face, darling." You brought up his face to look up at you, his brown beady eyes like a kicked dog as he made eye-contact. Who could say no to that wretched face? With the candlelight reflecting bright and deep like sunlight shining between cracks in the dirt?
"I'm sorry, your highness. I will keep still." You cooed and scratched the curly red locks growing thick on his chin and down his neck, which garnered a low, pleased hum in his throat.
"My darling Geta." You took a honeyed pastry from a dish nearby and gently fed him, which he relished with a softened tummy and dilapidated muscle. "Apology accepted."
Such a lovely spoil he was. A whole twin emperor at your feet, eating from your hands! Oh, your father would be proud! Yes, your army seamlessly captured him, though already injured, right from under the noses of those hellish, mongering Romans that make the whole world fester prematurely - the citrus of man's cornucopia. It was not enough for the conquerors to conquer, they must salt the fields of the dead that wouldn't surrender, and then take the remaining to sell them for a pretty silver coin. Your people weren't even special, just another city to for the Augustus to squash and be home in time for the parades and the solstice."Might I…be relieved from my position, highness?" Geta asked with great, delicious strain in his voice. His muscles were quaking, liable to give out at any minute.
"Hm.." You dipped a fingertip in the warm, melted wax at the base of the candle and gently traced down the base of his neck, making him curl up his neck in unpleasantness. "I don't know… Have you been a good desk?"
"Ah…" He cringed as the liquid cooled and hardened onto his skin. "Please, please! Mercy, I beg of you!"
You couldn't help a sneer as he quivered, his muscles exhausted from a couple of hours in this position. Oh, this was better than a ransom, better than the surrender of an entire Roman fleet.
But it was two hours.
Oh, bother it. There he was with those big brown dog eyes, and in themselves a glint of that imperial brat, who always got what and who he wanted. Damn him! It was impossible to ignore.
You took away the candle and your letter-writing effects, then said, "Alright, pet. You may relax."
He sank like an anchor to the ground, rolling over onto his back and spreading his limbs out with a relieved groan.
"Good, good, pet." You cooed and bent down, bringing his head to your lap."You're such a good pet." He let out a bright, happy chirp which signaled he was in the aether, that nice space where master's suggestion was law, where you were his god. You kissed his head of fiery locks, now grown to his shoulders. "Shh…My darling Geta."
That look on his face was delicious. Delirious, exhausted, weak. Surrender. Sweet surrender to you. That was all you needed, no matter how long this lasted. His surrender.
Some general soft sub!Emperor Geta x Mistress!Reader Hcs for the Evening❤️
Reading to him at night, so he’ll calm down. He loves the sound of your voice.
Calling him „my Little One“ or „Beloved“ as an affectionate pet name
his mask of the invincible emperor dropping completely as soon as he climbs into bed with you, giving way to the scared boy he still is on the inside, longing for love and affection, which you willingly give to him
You have dedicated paintings and Poems to your Emperor/ Lover, all which praise his beauty and youthfulness
you believing in the flicker of goodness and kindness that still exists in him and admiring the purity in the way he loves his brother
sometimes, when Geta feels particularly upset, you’ll allow him to lay across your lap and his head resting on your chest, wrapping him in blankets like a mother would with her child
I think Geta really needs this kind of Domination where he is infantilized a bit.
Some more soft sub!Geta x Mistress!reader thoughts^^
Emperor Geta x Reader Hc (Gladiator 2)
-Reader always making sure that Geta feels warm and safe at night and carefully tucking him in after their scenes as the last step of Aftercare:)
-Reader writing poems to him about his soft, creamy skin and his siren - like Eyes❤️ He has no idea the effect a mere gaze of him has on you
-comforting him and advising him in matters of the state or when he is having trouble with his brother again
-not comparing his beauty to Apollo, but to lovely and graceful Dryads and to seductive Sirens🌹
-feeling protective of him and wishing you could shield him from the dangers and cruelty of the Roman court
-people noticing that Geta seems to glow… differently than usual. Lighter. Softer. As if something heavy has been lifted off his shoulders
-Geta feeling he can leave the mask of the invincible emperor on the doorstep as soon as he steps into your chambers
-sometimes, when Geta cannot sleep, Mistress!reader will gently read to him while stroking his hair, the low hum of your voice lulling him to sleep
-worshipping Geta‘s strong thighs and broad chest before letting your hands wander lower and eliciting the most beautiful sounds from him❤️
-you always being focused on his pleasure first to make sure he feels well taken care of, both physically and emotionally
-you loving the sight of him with no make up and looking so soft and vulnerable, calling him your soft and lovely prince<3 the softest and most beautiful creature worth protecting
-Geta feeling Both vulnerable and safe with you<3
Geta is my Little Princess☺️😉 Likes, Reblogs and Comments are always appreciated^^ I hope you enjoyed my takes on beautiful sub!Geta^^
Summary: This is my entry for the Joseph Quinn Fic Exchange 2026, the @jqficexchange Spring Event 2026 for his character Emperor Geta<3<3 Geta is shaken because his brother is making no attempts of taking better care of himself and is actively worsening his already fragile health. You are there for him and are his shoulder to cry on<3<3 Some Angst with Fluff:)
Notes: I hope you enjoy reading it and I hope the lovely @otaku-girl-ao3 enjoys it as well as this fic is an exchange gift for her^^ Thank you so much to everyone who made this event possible, as I think this is going to get me back into writing:) This is my very first official fanfic and I´m very excited^^
The empty marble halls of the Imperial Palace were filled with the sounds of frantic footsteps. Emperor Geta was restlessly pacing barefoot through the now empty halls past the white marble statues, an expression of both anger and deep despair on his face. It was an hour after nightfall and his luxurious red sleeping robe with the elaborate gold stitching was elegantly streaming behind him as he breezed past the same marble statue for the third time. Frustrated and in an attempt to soothe his nerves, he wrapped the robe tighter around his body. He recalled the incident that led to his distressed state of mind less than an hour ago; an occurrence that made him feel that all of his efforts were in vain and that the Gods themselves were conspiring against them, caused by none other than his brother dearest.
His younger twin Caracalla has been lounging in his room, air thick with the smell of incense, being accompanied by his concubines. Indeed, his brother was no stranger to indulgence, and his deteriorating health apparently bore no reason for him to stop anytime soon. Quite the opposite, it seemed that the more his body and mind went in decline, the more debauchery Caracalla was likely to participate in. Perhaps it was denial, or him trying to prove to himself and Geta that he still could consume as much as ever, thus the illness bearing no true power over him; However, he did not merely plan to only indulge in pleasures of the flesh tonight. The smell of incense was so strong and suffocating, that Geta could even feel it putting pressure on his lungs as he was approaching his brother´s quarters. This was clearly done with the intention to mask something, and Geta´s worries were confirmed when he saw his brother holding a rather problematic vial over his ornate wine goblet. He immediately knew what it was, this accursed substance Caracalla was about to pour into his wine. It has been introduced into their social circles for a while, a powder made out of Hellebore root. According to some of their more daring court members and Patrician socialites, it supposedly enhanced your senses in a way that made your mind ascend to higher planes unknown to man before. Of course, Geta was no stranger to indulgence himself, but even he wouldn´t dare to try such a dangerous concoction. Just the slightest variation in dosage could mean meeting one´s untimely demise, even if one was of strong body and mind. Unsurprisingly, he reacted accordingly with absolute fury when he caught his younger brother with this cursed morsel. His health was already deteriorating daily without the help of any wine or deadly poisons. “What”, Geta hissed between teeth, storming over to Caracalla, “is this?” He practically ripped the vial out of his hands with a look so wrathful, it could rival the furies themselves. He didn´t care that Caracalla´s companions where present, as he practically screamed at his brother. “Your body is already deteriorating and you choose… to do this?? Haven´t you made enough foolish decisions already? Do you want to go to an early grave??” All of his frustration poured out of him at this very moment, as Caracalla´s companions nervously looked between the two, not daring to utter a word. “This is a new low”, he hissed, “even for you.” Caracalla was stunned, but only for a moment. His stubborn nature would not allow him to let his brother berate him like this. He yelled back, getting up from his bed and shoving Geta. The whole incident ended with the two of them having a screaming match and a golden plate thrown in Geta´s direction. With Caracalla´s screeching still ringing in his ears, Geta stormed off, throwing the vial at a nearby servant and ordering them to get rid of it and not let his twin near it again. Frightened, the young man nodded and quickly scurried off to throw the troublesome powder away.
It was all just too much. Geta´s shoulders were shaking, but it wasn´t just his anger. There was despair underneath it. His steps slowed down a bit, and he was only now aware of how hectic his breathing had become, making him gradually come to a halt. The cold started to seep into his bones, so he wrapped his arms around his torso. Once again, his mind was flooded with thoughts on how to fix everything, how to get it all under control again. The Senate. The responsibilities of the Roman Empire. The failing health of his brother´s body and mind and his apparent insistence to accelerate the process. The young Emperor could feel his breathing slow down a bit more. Then, his anger started to fully give way to despair and sadness. The first quiet sobs started to escape from his lips. Neither the physicians´ medicines nor Geta´s pleas to take better care of himself could stop Caracalla´s further decline. There has yet to be a cure invented for the disease that was affecting his brother. Feeling the trembling of his own shoulders and the first tears prickling in his eyes, Geta decided to go to his only true safe space he knew: You.
Tonight, as per usual around this hour, you were lounging in your quarters, pouring yourself some watered wine. Geta, who was your lover, has been avoiding you a bit lately and you assumed that it was probably because of all his duties. Suddenly, you heard a knock on your chamber doors. Carefully, you placed down your goblet and hesitantly called out: “Come in.” The doors opened, and in walked your lover. You could tell from his face and posture that he was very upset, but still tried to keep himself together. He had his robe wrapped tightly around his body, gaze shifted downwards. This concerned you, so you got up and walked over to him. Geta towered over you, despite being hunched over. Carefully, you reached out and brushed your hand against the decadent fabric of his red robe. Even when it came to his sleeping garments, Geta only used the finest of fabrics to dress himself. He continued to avoid your gaze, but that didn´t deter you. The two of you have been entangled for a while, and the nature of your relationship was a bit unconventional, at least to Roman standards, and Geta has still not completely gotten used to being vulnerable with you. “My love”, you spoke softly, “what´s troubling you? Did something happen?” Geta had the uncanny ability to awaken your motherly instincts, even though the two of you were not that far apart in age. This motherly streak in you wanting to look after and care for something, slowly coaxed out a different side of your lovely young Emperor. With you, he was a different man entirely that he was with any concubine before. Indeed, it appeared as if Geta has always had a latent submissive streak he has mostly been unaware of throughout his life, or rather, he has always tried to bury. As an Emperor, showing weakness or submission of any kind could easily result in him losing his reputation. But overtime, the more hours he spent in your quarters and the more nights he spent in your bed, the more he realized how much of a relief it was to just… let go. To let someone else be in control for once, not having to have all the answers. To have someone else truly see him and truly taking care of him.
You gently brushed his arm and searched his eyes, speaking softly to him. “Tell me”, you asked, “what is troubling my beautiful Little One?” ´Little One´ was one of the nicknames you affectionately called him when you were in private and no one, not even servants were around to hear you. Geta finally exhaled, some of the tension finally leaving his shoulders. “My brother…”, he began until a soft sob interrupted his words, “he is getting worse. Everyday… he is getting worse. And he…. he doesn´t even care.” He told you about what happened, the vial with the dangerous root powder, the screaming match over Caracalla´s poor decisions concerning his own safety, the golden plate his twin ended up throwing in Geta´s direction. It wasn´t the first time the brothers were fighting with this degree of intensity. Initially, Geta tried his best to keep his composure, but the more he spoke, the more his words turned into sobs, until the floodgates were fully open. He was truly devastated about Caracalla´s seeming indifference towards his life. “Why else would he even consider trying to consume this… this poison!” His hands covered his face and he started openly crying in front of you. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around his torso, reaching one hand to gently rub circles between his shoulder blades. “Hush now, my love”, you spoke softly. “It´s all going to be alright. We´ll try speaking to him tomorrow.” You weren´t sure whether speaking with Caracalla would actually bear any fruit, but at this moment, this was all you could promise. Geta being this comfortable opening up to you and leaning on you during his worst hours would not have been possible at the beginning of your relationship, so you were proud of his progress. He was still convinced he had to pretend to be this invincible divine figure on the outside as soon as he stepped inside the court. A symbol that would never falter. But reality was much different and a lot more grueling from the image he tried to portray and you often caught him when he fell.
Just like now. Slowly, his muscles relaxed and he melted into your embrace. Despite his height, he often felt like he could be small and protected in your presence again, like he was with his mother as a young boy. Gently, you guided him to the bed, but not to indulge in pleasures of the flesh this time. No, this time your Little One needed to be held and to be comforted. He laid down and immediately pulled his knees to his chin. You took the covers and gently pulled them over his body. His pale face was still wet with tears. Your hand found his fiery locks and gently stroked them, placing a kiss on his temple. Then you got up to fetch some water from a nearby table and asked a servant to bring you some hot water for a calming herb infusion you planned to make. It was a pastime of yours to collect different kinds of herbs, especially if they were of the healing kind. You loved crushing and mixing your own herbs for healing infusions and you were an avid student of the healing arts of nature. This time, you applied your knowledge to help soothe your distraught lover. Decidedly, you took out some mallow root and crushed it while waiting for the servant to return. This was part of your relationship. Yes, you did have the most powerful man in the Empire on his knees for you in the bedroom and it was almost always you who bedded him, and not the other way around; but you also took care of him in other ways when he needed it. Allowed him to become small and helpless once more, without ridiculing him or taking advantage of his vulnerability. You believed in the special dynamic of your relationship, unconventional it may be in your society. You were both the strict Mistress and the loving Mother. You bestowed upon him both punishment and relief. Pain and Pleasure, all deeply intertwined with each other. Domination was not about raw force for you. No, this kind of brutish and male way of handling things was far from your philosophy. No, a lover´s domination should be about holding them and caring for them. For you, it was about guidance and protecting their hearts and bodies. And right now, Geta´s heart needed tending to. So you continued to work mortar and pestle to evenly crush the mallow root, so you could harvest its soothing abilities once the hot water arrived.
Geta was still sniffling softly under the covers, so you temporarily ceased your work to get up and calm your Little One down a bit more. He has not moved and still remains in the same position you left him in. He nestled his face more into the pillows, allowing you to gently stroke his hair. “Shhh, my love”, you spoke gently. “It´s all going to be alright. Tomorrow, we will speak to your brother. We will find a way.” He did not answer. But whenever you spoke to him, something in your voice always made him believe in your words. You continued to sit on the bed, gently stroking his hair and whispering sweet, reassuring words into his ear, calming him down, when you heard another knock on the chamber doors. The servant has returned with a pot of hot water. You thanked him, and as he left, you returned to your mallow root and continued preparing the calming herbal infusion. Once the powder has released all its goodness into the infusion, you waited a little bit more for it to cool. You wouldn´t want Geta to burn his lips, after all. The infusion was prepared in a comparatively simple ceramic cup you sometimes preferred. Carefully, you took the cup to the bedside, offering it to your Little One. “Geta”, you whispered softly, “I have something for you. This will help you calm down.” Without saying a word, he slowly sat up and took the cup into his hands. The warmth spreading on his palms was already comforting him and he took a sip. The two of you just sat there, you quietly keeping him company and him carefully sipping the infusion you prepared for him. You could see the calming effect of the mallow root taking effect as the tension slowly left Geta´s shoulders. For a while, the two of you just sat there in silence while he drank his infusion.
Some time has passed. The two of you were lying in bed under the covers, Geta having his head buried into your chest. You have slipped into your own nightgown and were gently caressing your lover´s red locks. His breathing was a lot steadier and calmer now, his sobbing having seized completely. Still, he clung to you like a child would to its mother, holding on to you tightly. “Sshhh, Little One”, you cooed softly. “Mmmh…”, he grunted, not moving another muscle. He felt so safe in your embrace. You pulled the covers higher over the both of you. Your Little One´s form was scrunching up even more under the covers, returning to the state he last had in babyhood. With you, under your domination, he was safe. He could become small again, like a babe. Returning to the state he once was in the womb. Without noticing, his fist curled up slightly against his mouth, but not quite touching it. With all the love and care you could muster, you kept stroking his hair, whispering reassuring words into his ear. The moon shone through the window, casting a pale light onto the both of you. Your arms pulled him even tighter against you, if that was even possible. “Geta, my beautiful Geta… my beautiful Little One…”, you murmured. It was hard to explain, but the young Emperor had a way to bring out that side of you that just wanted to mother and nurture him. And he loved it. Because in moments like these, when he felt himself collapsing, that you were there to catch him. Because you didn´t shy away from him when he didn´t pretend to be this invincible god – like symbol. Because with you, he could just be.
It was all going to be okay, you promised. You were there. You were going to tackle this together. And tomorrow, you promised, there would be a new day.
I rarely post my personal art on here, but I just finished this piece and I just HAD to show it off^^ I don´t know if it´s really good, but I´m proud of it regardless:) It started out as a study of Ancient Greek Art, but I decided to made some altercations to it, so it looks more like our beloved Twin Emperors engaging in a game of wits:)
I traced the outlines, but the coloring and adjustments, so that it looks more like our pampered Twins, are mine:) I especially like how Caracalla turned out:)
I loved the iconographic imagery of the piece I was studying, and the beautiful (and slightly erotic~) vibe of the male subjects - perfect for a sub!Geta x Fem!Goddess!Reader x sub!Caracalla scenario<3
So in this scene, we have sub!Geta and sub!Caracalla play a game to stimulate the mind in a peaceful garden, hosted by Domme!Reader:) A place, where they can be free and unburdened by their usual duties<3
You are also welcome to add your own interpretations of that piece:)
I know it´s not like some high class art, but I´m still proud of it and I hope you get some enjoyment out of it too:)
Tried my hand at some fanart. He really does look lovely in his red robe and without the Make Up (even though he is giving 2000s baddie with his three shades of eyeliner lol)
A different rendition of the fanart I made but with different coloring:) Geta and Caracalla enjoying a leisurely game of wits with Goddess!Reader in the Twilight:)
