#joaquinphoenix

[darknessisafriend]

I was wondering if you could write one with Joaquin's characters about how would they react to getting neck smooches from their S/O I hope you are well in these crazy times 💓

It's finally here! I finally got time to write! I hope you will enjoy anon, @galos-writing helped me a bit with Abbe ;)

Commodus:

Commodus is always a man on his guard. So, naturally his neck wouldn’t be an easy part to reach, even for his lover. 

The truth is also that his neck is very sensitive. Commodus is secretly very ticklish, and his sister and mother used to tickle his neck as they played together before bed. No one had been touching his neck in years. 

The first time you tried to, you joined Commodus in his study. He was working late at night as usual, but you missed him dearly lately. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his cheek first. “My love…it is getting late...” you whispered, hoping it was obvious you needed him to warm your bed up and cool your body down. 

“I have important work to do, Y/N. I have to stay a little longer.” He replied, his eyes focused on whatever he was scribbling. As always, he would work so hard, from early in the morning to late at night, more than anyone else. Thankfully you were there to make sure he would take a break and not kill himself at the service of his People. 

You pouted at first at his answer and then grinned, leaning closer to his ear “His Highness won’t regret it...” you purred in his ear, nibbling his ear lobe, kissing his jaw and then daring a plant a kiss in his neck, right on his calmly pulsing jugular.

He froze at first, not expecting a kiss there, used to a feeling of coldness due to his armor. Your lips felt soft and warm, the opposite of a cold and hard blade he could have expected.

His skin had goosebumps and he looked down, pondering how to react, if he should let down his defense like he did so many times with you before. He made his quill lightly roll between his thumb and index as he thought. The kiss had been surprising, and yet it felt nice but too quick. “Y/N, can you do that again?” he quietly asked. 

You smiled in relief, you had been holding your breath the whole time, fearing it might have triggered him badly. Surprisingly it didn’t, probably because he had a lot more trust in you than he would think. 

This time, you would place your kiss slowly, your lips tracing kisses along his jugular where you felt his pulse had increased frantically, his skin warm and soft, with a strong scent of cinnamon myrrh, his favorite and prestigious perfume. It was intoxicating, just like the rest of his being. 

This time you would feel him relax under your kisses, his eyes almost closing entirely, his quill escaping his fingers that had become weak. His posture would remain high and yet his neck tilted to give you more space as one of your hands caressed his strong chest. “If my Emperor is willing to join our bed…I shall give him plenty of those...” 

“How dare you try to imp….” But Commodus wouldn’t manage to finish his sentence that a moan escaped his lips as you sucked his skin on a particularly sensitive spot. “Run…if I catch you before you get in bed, I will be the one ravaging your body.” He said, making you giggle, he knew you were fast, and he wouldn’t manage to catch you. What he wouldn’t do to make it seem like he had control while he entirely gave it up willingly the moment he fell for you.

Arthur/Joker:

Arthur adores your neck smooches, he is ticklish too but loves it anyway, probably due to his childish spirit.

You had first tried during a tickle battle actually, both of you laughing as you threw pillows at each other and tickled each other. You ended up straddling Arthur beneath you (or rather he loved to let you win). You blocked his arms and placed your lips in his neck to tickle him, something your mom used to do. 

Arthur would let out a squeal, a loud and boyish noise before laughing heartily, a happy laugh. He was fully relaxed, and he had discovered something new about himself. You would lift your head and smile at him, giving him a tender kiss on the lips. 

“Can I try?” he would ask eagerly, his eyes shining with fondness, his fingers delicately caressing your fingers. “Of course. But on one condition…I won’t go easy on you.” You teased him, challenging him to another play of pillow. And slowly a grin would form on his face, a confident one, that you knew from Joker “Don’t complain what comes afterwards darling.” He would purr. 

One thing you had noticed is that Joker had much more raw strength than Arthur, the madness sometimes gave inhuman strength. And you would be able to resist for long, Joker would be quick, naughty and sly; managing to win rapidly. You would gasp as he sent a last pillow hit that was a little too strong, making you lose your balance to fall off the bed.

But thankfully he would catch you in his arms, throwing his body first so he would take the hit and not you. He would laugh with a big smile, not reacting at all under the pain. “Told you I’d win.” He would say, already filling your neck in kisses, making you squirm as you started to giggle. 

His hand would instantly start to roam your body, Joker was more sexual than Arthur and winning you over a battle was even more exciting to his eyes. Even as he would make love to you afterwards, he would keep on filling your neck in kisses, making you laugh in that moment of intimacy. Arthur was still in there after all.

Bruno Weiss:

Bruno is a grumpy man and he doesn’t like to show himself vulnerable, only when drunk or very tired he does truly reveal himself.

His attitude does change after a while, once the trust builds up.

The first time you did it, was to tease him. He was annoyed by paperwork, keeping on muttering to himself while smoking his cigarette. “Is paying taxes such a headache?” you would ask in a chuckle, making him crush his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’m not working hard to have our money taken away from us.” he would mutter.

“Y/N” he would protest as you sat on his lap. The thing was that he was very weak for you and when you were so close to him, he wouldn’t be able to focus, and he would hate his inability to do so. 

You would grin, you just had to do one thing for him to snap. “You just have to pay darling, or should I do it?” you retorted and quickly smooched his neck before running off, chased by an angry Bruno who would soon calm down under your sweet caresses. 

After this episode, a kiss on the neck would become a soothing gesture for Bruno, one more reminder that he didn’t have to keep his defenses in front of you, that he could be vulnerable. It would be a reminder you would always be there, that you wouldn’t abandon him like everyone else did.

Charlie:

The first time you kissed Charlie in the neck, it didn’t go well, he had the worst reaction you could have expected from him.

You were sitting by the fire with a few companions and his brother. In a moment  of tenderness you would have sat behind him to hug him, placing a kiss on his cheek then neck. However, would quickly tense up, ignoring the soft smile of his brother at the scene. “What the fuck are you doing!?” Charlie would exclaim, instantly leaving your embrace “I’m not some kind of fag!” he would storm angrily to smoke a cigarette. Everyone would turn their eyes away from you in embarrassment except Ellie, patting your shoulder reassuringly “You know he didn’t mean it.”

And indeed, despite hurting, you knew Charlie was keeping a rough mask in front of everybody and you had brushed it off without thinking.

You would leave him alone for some time to process his gesture. He would be silent, feeling awkward after his outburst, shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

“I’m sorry Charlie. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad” you would apologize sincerely. You knew he had a rough past and he was the little brother always acting tough to protect the ones he loved, it had cost him half of his sanity. 

“I don’t trust everyone here. I don’t want them to think…” he sighed, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with the heel of his boot.

You would approach him, wanting to hug him from behind but as you reached out your hand you wouldn’t dare to touch him.

I know. You don’t have to explain yourself. I won’t do it again.” you would offer softly, doing your best to accommodate your struggling lover.

“What are they doing? Are they looking?” he would ask after a moment of silence. You would look back “No, they went to sleep. Ellie is kissing his…scarf.” you replied, an intimate gesture his brother didn’t fear to show.

“Can you do it again?” he would ask in a mutter, you would hear his voice on the edge like a great effort he would make to let down his barriers and he would not repeat himself, fearing.

Joe:

The neck would be a triggering part for Joe, always has been as a soldier. This was part he would have to protect often during the war. But you wouldn’t be aware of this specific trigger point. 

One day, as he would be reading, you wouldn’t pay attention and would come to hug him from behind, you were light footed so he tensed up at first. But when it instantly followed with a kiss on the neck, something cool applying to his skin, triggered a past trauma. 

He would gasp and under the flash push you away strongly, making you fall heavily on the ground, pretty much hitting your head at the same time. “Joe what…” you would manage to say, blinking a few times the stars in your eyes. You would find him curled up in a corner, his arms wrapped around his head and neck as an attempt to protect himself.

Your eyes would widen at the sight, understanding he had been severely triggered. In fact, you now remembered reading some articles about it, how strangling and throat slitting was attempted on some factions of soldiers by the enemy and it was surely what had triggered him.

“Joe it’s me. I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you.” you would apologize on the verge of tears from the state he was in.

After that it would take a while for him to calm down, he would be closed into silence, feeling guilty of his own reactions to a simple kiss. But you would work things out as always, taking baby steps in trying to eliminate that trigger, his service dog helping as well, nuzzling his truffle in his neck while cuddling.

You would make sure to eliminate the effect of surprise during that gesture, coming to stand in front of him, caressing his chest and slowly tying your arms around his neck, asking for permission to kiss his neck. And it would work out well after many months of trial. You wouldn’t do it much tho cause you didn’t want to push this too fast, besides you loved kissing his lips, chest and arms much better.

With time Joe would grow to like it as well, it was much nicer to open his neck to a loving kiss rather than a cold blade. 

Max California:

- Max California loves neck kisses. He is a very physical lover so when he is with you he is rather clingly, and especially loves PDA, he is a possessive lover but not in a toxic way, he would simply be very proud of you. 

-  Very early in your relationship you would have gone onto neck kisses, at the shop as you assisted you would often lean against him hugging you from behind, placing lazy kisses from time to time as you both await clients to pick their next dirty products. Your neck was constantly filled with hickeys so the clients wouldn’t bother you. 

- However, Max himself was often subject to passion from clients and strangers, men and women desiring the dark punk boy working in a sex shop wearing a crop top. That would make you terribly annoyed and you knew an efficient way to mark your territory. Just do the same!

-  As you had gone to refill a shelf of porn magazines, you would decide to surprise him. Instead of going to insert yourself between his arms, you would hug him from behind as he chatted with a female client, filling his neck in small smooches, looking at the client in the eyes. Without surprise she would understand the message and leave promptly.

- Max would grin and turn his head to meet your eyes “Do you think she had any chance with me?” he would ask, making you blush and bite his neck in protest, making him chuckle. “But keep going, I like it.” He would add, his hand coming to caress your cheek before focusing on work again. 

-You would retain a happy squeal, muffling it against his skin before kissing it. Max wouldn’t be too sensitive on the neck so at first, he wouldn’t get aroused. He would simply be very happy of your attention, that you took the lead. He was a feminist after all so he would encourage such things in public and also loved to be under your control. 

-One day, after a weekend apart Max would even surprise you with a tattoo, red lips modeled on the lipstick you often left in his neck. He would wear a proud grin on his face. “What’d you think?” he asked, very pleased with himself and to show he was a marked territory already.

- “I think I still need to add a little bit more purple to it, you know, to make it livelier.” You grinned back, opening your arms and wrapping them around his neck as you would passionately make out.

Abbe:

As the composed and religious man of God he is, the Abbé has never experienced an intimate touch from no one. 

This has given him incredible awkwardness when he started feeling carnal desires for you besides romantic feelings, his religious trauma and brainwash made him believe he was a sinner and regret his own nature of man. Your love for him made you feel bad for his condition, so of course you tried to help him.

You already knew he would go crazy in the worst way possible if you had taken the lead without psychologically telling him, so you planned to slowly introduce him to physical affection. So you invited him for tea to ‘innocently chitchat’.

During the talk, he seemed still pretty nervous about the topic, but less than usual. It felt like a good sign for you, but you didn’t expect his next request.

The Abbé was actively avoiding your gaze as he parted his lips to speak, his cheeks turned a bright red. “Might I… dare to kiss you?” He asked in almost a whisper, making you blush and then scoff; his excessive politeness was adorable to you. You nodded, and approached, ready for a quick peck. You didn’t expect him to grab your shoulders and capture your lips for a goofy yet extremely heated kiss. 

You could hear him let out little noises already despite you weren’t touching him either. So, when the kiss was over, you smirked, licking your lips, delighted by that kiss, and leaned closer, brushing your lips against his neck. You could hear a gasp escape his lips, which lowkey turned you on. 

So you started by giving his neck a first soft kiss, noticing his chest moving up and down faster and his heartbeat louder. He swallowed down, trying to reluctantly pull back, it was obvious he was loving those kisses yet he thought it was wrong. “Y/N…”, he whimpered, letting out soft moans for every kiss you gave him. Every moan of his was one more shiver of excitement running through your spine. 

You suddenly felt your clothes being grabbed by his fists, his noises became a bit louder and his hips were starting to slightly jerk forward. Unfortunately that thick pitch black cassock was leaving no room for imagination, but you knew underneath he was fighting against a massive boner.

Suddenly, after you gently nibbled a spot on his throat, he let out a high pitched whimper, obviously choking other noises in his throat and trembling a bit, his mouth was agape. You stepped back, thinking you hurt him, but after some seconds, he was heavily painting and squeezing his legs together: he came just with your neck kisses. 

You would have lied if you said you weren’t proud of yourself. Especially after he looked at you dead in the eye and said: “There’s no turning back after this, right…?”. He seemed defeated, yet somehow relieved when you shook your head, hopeful to get further with him. Finally.

Merill

Merill is a lover of PDA and of neck kisses as well. Which means that naturally he would give them to you.

He is a protective man and possessive. In public he would especially love to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist to place a tender kiss on your neck.

Naturally you would return the favor. Merill wouldn't be surprised or taken aback, he would let you do and even lean into your touch.

For Merill, neck smooches would represent letting himself get vulnerable willingly for the one he loves.

It was something he was proud of. Merill was known across town for his strong character, his stubbornness, and impulsivity. And many thought that he wasn’t an easy man to handle, that despite attracting many girls with his look, when they got to know him they would run away. 

It wasn’t the truth actually, ladies loved how he knew what he wanted and his passion, his love for his family. And you were the lucky one, the only one he ever allowed neck kisses from, encouraging you to mark him with hickeys, show who he belonged to. 

You would especially enjoy tickling him with your lips during a baseball match, distracting him when he was getting too agitated by the bad talent of some. It would work wonderfully, to the point he would melt in your touch, his attention drifting away more and more from the match to focus on you. During the final match you would end up making out and more in the lockers room where no one would come to find you.

Tag list: @skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @galos-writing @sparklygardenerlove

[speedou]

Beau is Afraid (Ari Aster, 2023)

[galos-writing]

hey, y'all, uh sorry for my absence but i was so damn busy with uni im sorry T_T i had completed a request i received a long time ago but i accidentally deleted the message, fortunately i copied n pasted the request above the ff itself, so for whoever asked it to me, im so sorryyy and i hope the ff arrives to you Q-Q enjoyyy

Request: Hi! May I ask for Arthur Fleck x gn (*gender neutral) reader where the reader has green eyes and how would he react? Thank you!

You were standing right in front of a vast apartment block completely dumbfounded, you couldn’t believe such a majestic building could erect in a trashcan of a city like Gotham. Indeed, the poor lifestyle was mirrored by the appearance of what would become your new home: broken windows, a neglected shared yard full of trash bags, roaches and sewer rats, and the paint outside grayed or even consumed in some spots. 

You made a face at the view, but it was all you could afford at the moment: you would have surely moved as soon as you would have found a job with a good salary. However, the luggage you were holding reminded you that you weren’t living somewhere better than this. You could almost dare to say your new home would be a mansion if compared to your parents’ house; even the rudest flatmate would be nicer than the ones who were supposed to love and support you no matter what, but that instead kicked you out, not even letting you collect all of your stuff. ‘Just your clothes’, they said, ‘and then get the fuck out.’. 

Their words were carved in your memory and will probably be forever, you took a deep breath to hold back tears. 

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the taxi driver behind you, until he honked, startling you. You turned to him, he was visibly pissed, angrily smoking his cigarette butt and then throwing it at your feet, not even putting it out. 

“Ya deaf, pal?! I fuckin’ said it’s 50 bucks! Ya gon’ pay me or not?”, he shouted at you, sticking his hand full of rings out towards you, expecting his money on his callous palm. You turned pale at how angry he was and quickly pulled out your wallet to give him his money. 

Your anxiety turned into full panic when you saw your wallet was completely empty. Fuck. You were sure your brat of a little brother stole all your money, oh how you wish you were still at your home to strangle him. 

“So?”, the taxi driver insisted, pressing on the accelerator to increase the price according to the taximeter. His judgmental beady eyes were scanning you while you started emptying your backpack, in a desperate attempt of finding a single cent in the bottom of it. Nothing, just old stuff, some comic book and clothes. You let out a defeated sigh that made him visibly angrier, and your lips quivered as you opened your mouth to speak the only words he was hoping not to hear. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t…”

You got cut by a bony and shaky hand extending next to you, handing some banknotes at the taxi driver, who smirked and snatched them from it.

“H…Here…”, a thin male voice shyly stuttered before the money had been literally ripped off his hand. The driver filled his thumb with his gross saliva to start counting the bills, and when he was over he just left in a hurry, not saying a word. 

You were at a loss for words due to everything that happened so quickly, but you managed to snap out of your trance and looked at the guy who just saved you from an unpleasant situation. 

You were stunned when you saw the appearance of your saviour: a short and slender man who was still standing next to you, his arm was still extended and his eyes were wide open, staring off into space. He seemed to be in his mid-forties but you weren’t sure.

He flinched when you touched his shoulder, and slowly turned his head towards you. His eyes looked so sweet, but they were now so wide, still in shock at what just happened. 

“Hey…”, you softly called him, trying to calm him down by awkwardly stroking his shoulder. “A-Are you okay? I’m so sorry you had to get through this, really… I’m willing to give you back your money, for sure, sir.”, you kept telling him, your tone was soft to sooth him, and you sketched an embarrassed smile when he looked at you. He first babbled some letters, as if he was starting the engine of his brain to reconnect and formulate a correct sentence, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. His gaze soon flustered you, making you look away. 

“Well, then… It's been a true pleasure to meet you. Thank you again, sir.”, you politely saluted, grabbing your bags and walking to the entrance of the condo where the landlord was waiting for you. 

As weeks passed by, some threatening letters from your father didn’t manage to break the new cocoon of comfort you built up all for yourself. You were so proud of your job of house decorating that you couldn’t resist but invite some friends over. What an idiot you felt by seeing your fridge was empty, how were you supposed to have guests over with no food in the house? 

You found yourself forced to go emergency grocery shopping the day before their arrival. As you were walking to the grocery store, you had the crippling feeling of being observed, but the thing didn’t scare you too much: lots of people in Gotham were weirdos, or just envious bored fellas who enjoyed watching others to judge them without a reason. When you arrived at the cashier to pay for your stuff, your eyes met a familiar face: the nice nervous man who paid for your taxi! You instinctively smiled and poked his shoulder to catch his attention. When he turned around towards you, his cheeks turned a deep red as you joyfully waved at him. 

“We haven’t talked much since you helped me that day, huh?”, you giggled, holding your bag of groceries as you were walking out of the store, followed by Arthur. He didn’t respond, he was too flustered to speak. You turned to him, tilting your head, your face showed concern. For a moment, you decided to ignore your worry and resumed smiling, extending your hand at him.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way. (Y/N) (L/N). We didn’t manage to introduce each other. It’s a pleasure to know you. We do live in the same condo, right?”, you happily asked, patiently waiting for the man to shake your hand. But he didn’t. 

“I-I’m Arthur, Arthur Fleck… nice to know you too…”, he shyly murmured after a few seconds, trying to avoid eye contact. You worriedly looked at him again.

“Hey… are you okay? Did… did I say something that offended you?”, you asked, trying to approach him, but he stepped back. 

“I have something to confess to you. I, uhm… I followed you… like, stalked you for a while. It’s better you immediately know, I don’t want you to find it out by yourself and get even more scared…”, he admitted, making your face turn pale; that explained your feeling of being observed all the time. 

“... why?”, you just asked, feeling numb. You were confused, that man seemed so kind, silent and polite during condo reunions, you couldn’t believe someone like him could do something like that. But you appreciated his honesty, despite the fact you were definitely creeped out by him. 

“I… just wanted to make sure you were real. And, y’know, not just some… some kind of delusion.”, he bluntly answered, as his face turned even redder. “It’s just that…”, he kept saying, “ … you quite… caught my attention, not gonna lie. You feel like a fresh breeze in this trash-stuffed pit.”. 

His words hit you like a hammer, those were the first kind words someone outside your friends group had told you in weeks. Your eyes filled in tears, but you firstly refused to let them out, giggling. 

“I… I don’t know what to say… Just… Thank you so much, Arthur. I’m glad you’re my neighbor. You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met in a long time.”, you told him, touching his shoulder. Your words made him blush even more, but this time a relaxed and genuinely joyful smile appeared on his thin and scarred lips. 

“Why did you come to live here, though…? You’re so pure and joyful, your kindness doesn’t belong here…”, he asked, blushing a bit. His question upset you more than you wanted to admit.

“... my parents kicked me out because I refused to work for their shitty business. I wanted to escape that narcissistic and toxic environment to start all over again. And for now living here is all I can afford.”, you gloomingly explained. 

He got silent, nodding a bit. His silence made your anxiety grow more than when you announced to your father you had no intention to work for his company. 

Arthur noticed you were observing him, and stopped nodding. “ …what?”, he asked.

“What?? Aren’t you gonna say nothing?!”, you asked back, in full panic.

“What do you expect me to say? (Y/N), if there’s something I learned by living in this world is that insecure people will insult everything outside their range of comprehension. But believe me, it’s not worth your tears until you’re happy. That’s life.”, he just said, taken by a moment of confidence, he felt oddly comfortable by speaking so openly to you, for once he didn’t feel unfitting or out of line, he felt heard and he knew his words could be helpful to someone he cared for that was struggling.

“And, in all honesty, I wouldn’t be taken by surprise by your family situation, yet… by, uh…”, he kept going, struggling a bit to say what he was thinking of, but just by looking at you, he suddenly found the courage. He was feeling good by spilling all that out right now, and wanted that wellness to keep going. 

“Yet by the fact yours are the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen.”, he suddenly blurted out, making you heavily blush. You looked at him, you could see his wave of confidence disappear to make him blush as well, so much he had to pull on the collar of his shirt. 

After some awkward second of silence, you smiled. “Do you mind if we… get back home together?”, you asked. Your proposition took him by surprise this time, making him slowly nod. The two of you walked back to the condo, in complete silence, drowning in fluster, but so happy you had met each other at that moment.

Tags: @darknessisafriend @werewolf-and-go-wild @indieblair @pursuit-of-comedy @ajokeformur-ray @fly-like-a-phoenix @five-miles-over @hebimoonlightwrites @jokerflecker @callmejokerr

[ralugraphics]

Oh, I've wanted to paint this scene for a very long time, and now it's finally done 🖌😏🎨🤡

A4 acrylics painting

Hyped about Joker Folie a Deux? 😍🔥

@ralu.graphics on Instagram

[monsterpawpr]

🃏 JOKER Folie à Deux 🃏 Lady Gaga as Harley Quinn 🔥 fanmade character poster

[askmrfleck]

Come find me

[etcemais]

[🎬] Novas imagens de Lady Gaga e Joaquin Phoenix no set de Coringa 2.

Coringa, Folie à Deux estreia no dia 4 de outubro de 2024.

[thechristos]

τέσσερα μάτια.

σ΄έβλεπα απ' το πλάι κι έλεγα γελάει > και σήμερα.

[lumber]

❤️🎂🎈🎁🎉🥳💕 Happy 80th Birthday, #Tweety! ••• I got a great new #SketchBook recently. Here's one of the pages in them where I turned off the brain and just let the #Ink flow. There was a fully rendered #JoaquinPhoenix face before I scrawled #Joker #MakeUp all over it with #GelPens. #JeauxJanovsky #JeauxJ #JeauxJanovskyArt #Markers #Microns #SpongeBob #SpongeBobSquarePants #Nickelodeon #StephenHillenburg #TweetyBird #LooneyTunes #BobClampett #ATaleOfTwoKitties #AlvinAndTheChipmunks #TheChipmunks #RossBagdasarian #ToddPhillips #HandDrawn #Cartoons #Animation #Calarts #CalartsAlumni (at Vermillion, South Dakota) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClSAFAhLVmM/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[hb-waters]

New poster for #ariaster new movie BEAU IS AFRAID aka DISAPPOINTMENT BLVD! Starring #joaquinphoenix (at Montreal, Quebec) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmHJCxiAgIY/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[darknessisafriend]

I will feed on your hate, Commodus x Reader/You

After months of writing block I finally got to write again T_T this is a special piece for the wonderful @kfanniart a while ago we had spoken about Commodus, how he would feel and how we would love to comfort him, so here is a fic inspired by our talks <3

Commodus was quietly walking in the corridors of the palace; he had always been light foot. He had taken this habit from his father and from his passion for hunting; it was a good way to spy on your counterparts. You had always been amazed by how quick he could walk and yet remain completely silent, each of his movements, his breathing, a true hunter. Commodus’ fingertips brushed against a column as he leaned against it to listen to some Senators present at the palace.

“Ah don’t be so gentle Gaius I know that you think deep down. That child isn’t half as good as his father.” Spoke the first Senator with a knowing grin, how imprudent they were.

“I am smarter than you Brutus I don’t want to be heard speaking ill of the Emperor. He is not as merciful as Marcus Aurelius.

“See? Another flaw of his. Sometimes I wonder if he is not a bastard son to be the opposite of his father.” He scoffed, a mean glow in his eyes.

“What is the point to criticizing him every day? If he keeps going that way, he will fall soon anyway, and we will all be grateful for it.” Sighed Gaius, he was arrogant, thinking himself all mighty. He snapped his fingers at an old slave “You. Speak without fear of punishment. What do you think of your new master?” he asked. The old man seemed to hesitate at first, looking around to see if there were witnesses to his words. So, Commodus leaned more against the column listening, his heart racing faster, he had a bad feeling about it. When one hid to speak of a man, it was never to praise him.

“He is not like the great Marcus Aurelius. He doesn’t sleep, he is not at peace. He is moody, not wise.” Replied the man before quickly going back to his work, not knowing he had been heard by Commodus himself. According to his reputation, it could have been expected that the young emperor would have come out of his hiding spot, yelling for the guards to seize the traitors or even killing them himself in his rage.

But there wasn’t any of it. Commodus’ heart was stabbed again, betrayed…how could people and especially his own people, servants be so ungrateful? Didn’t he love them enough? talked with them enough? Perhaps he was the only Emperor who didn’t mind befriending those who served him. Because he was the People.

Still as quietly as he came, he left, heading back to his private quarters as fast as possible, his eyes wet with tears, his breathing fast, uncontrolled. He couldn’t even think anymore, the sound of his hammering heart pounding in his ears.

Soon, he found himself in your room, barely understanding where he was, his body had guided him to the safest place for his spirit, you. You lifted your head from the broderie you were making, looking at the young Emperor who had busted in your room unannounced. It wasn’t the first time he did it and each time it was because he was upset.

“Do you wish to talk about what happened, Commodus?” you offered, sometimes he didn’t wish to talk but simply sit in your company. And other times, his burden was too heavy for his mind not to share. Slowly, his eyes lifted from the ground to look at you, finally understanding where he was. He opened his mouth as if to mutter an apology. His gaze became boyish as he approached you and slowly dropped on his knees, looking at you in the eyes as he took your hands, fervently kissing your knuckles, staying silent.

“It is alright.” You smiled reassuringly, letting him do. Many would call it inappropriate for two friends, even if childhood friends to be so close. Commodus rested his head on your lap, silently requesting for you to caress his head; it was a gesture that brought him great peace. So, you did, your thumb gently stroking his cheek as the other hand went in his hair, massaging his scalp.

“They hate me…they all do.” He stated, his eyes teary again. “Even dead and years after my father’s death they keep speaking of him as if he was still alive, there to judge me. As if they could dare speak of me that way without fear of punishment, with his support.” He snarled, yet his voice had the tone of a murmur.  You sighed at his words; indeed, it had been years since he had inherited the throne and yet he kept suffering as if nothing had changed. Sometimes you came to wonder if Commodus was meant to be Emperor or if it was a curse thrown upon him.

“Even my own slaves speak poorly of me, they don’t respect me. If a slave can’t respect me, no one ever will.” He murmured, looking at the details of your hands, a way to distract himself from the pain.

“I do respect you Commodus.” You instantly replied, hoping that those words would be enough to sooth him.

“But it is you! It doesn’t matter like-…”

“I am not the only one respecting you. Why don’t I matter? Because I am a woman? Because I can’t bring you votes of the Senate or plot in your favor? How wrong you would be to think that.” You replied seriously to his protest, meeting his dark gaze.

“I know perfectly what you are able to do Y/N. And I have shown myself very grateful for it.” He replied darkly. More than friendship bounded you, dark actions for the cause of the Empire and ensure his safety. You were a bit his shadow agent. “What I meant is that as the Emperor, I need the respect of my people and most Senators. I cannot rule if all are against me.” He replied, a bit calmer to explain himself before tightening your dress in his hand. “I would bet on my own life that History will speak bad of me. I will be the villain and the Senate the heroes. Maybe I will even be forgotten…” he murmured sadly, like his father had made him feel forgotten.

“I recall that you did rather unexpected and innovative things in your reign already. An Emperor gladiator…cherishing his people, establishing peace with the Marcomans and Quades. I see no reason for you to be forgotten. No matter how hard the Senate could try, the People will remember, your statues, your face printed on denarius, scattered across the Empire. You cannot be erased. You will be remembered.” You assured him, keeping on playing with the dark curls of his hair, you knew he would be remembered in both good and bad, no Emperor escaped it, and no one could satisfy all.

“I wish I could make them all stop talking about my father.” He simply replied, a bit calmer. It seemed your words had an effect on him.

“With time they will stop. I promise you, my dearest. And people will judge you by your actions, not by what old senators say of you.” You cooed, detailing his sad face. How much you would give to see him smile again. In a burst of love, you leaned forward, placing your lips on top of his head, leaving a protective kiss upon Commodus. Only you really knew who he was, and you would cherish it.

At your kiss, Commodus lifted his head, looking at you with surprise and wonder. It wasn’t the first kiss you gave him and yet for him it always felt like the first time.

“Would you like to come to bed with me?” you offered with a smile, it was the first time you offered such thing, yet you knew it was a wish of Commodus. He only had never asked because his sister pressured him to ‘leave you alone’. You had caught them arguing about it a few times in the past. So, of course, Commodus was overjoyed to accept, yet for now he kept a rather neutral face, only his eyes shone with a strange glow. He got up and offered you his hand, as always enjoying taking the lead and guiding you to your own bed.

He let you lay down first, letting you invite him in your arms, smiling and looking at him in the eyes “Join me Commodus.” You cooed, with a soft tone, you knew how much he loved quietness at times, hearing your heartbeat against his cheek as he laid on top of you, nuzzling against your breast. It always gave you an effect, you had always loved him of course and he did too, you just never made it official, perhaps another non-conformist side of Commodus.

“I only feel at home when I am in your arms...” he murmured, taking your hand and kissing each of your knuckles devotedly, as you slid your other hand under his tunic, from the base of this neck to caress his tensed shoulders, now relaxing a little.

“If it wasn’t for you, I would have left Rome a while ago to go back to Gaul.” You replied with equal devotion, burying your nose in his coal curls, inhaling his scent of cinnamon and pomegranate. Rome was exhausting, noisy, smelly and full of dangers, even withing the palace walls.

Commodus lifted his head, his gaze dark, passionate. “I would have never let you. If you left me here alone…” he cupped your chin with his fingers “I feel as if I’m dying. A long, slow, agonizing death, ever since…” he briefly looked down, a sad look in his eyes, not having the strength to talk about his past sufferings. “You make me feel alive…every time you speak, every time you touch me.” He murmured, his eyes dark again, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. “Y/N I crave you, like a dying man craving for each breath.” His voice slightly slipped, showing his desperation, his eyes teary from all the emotions he hid from the world. “Please…” he called you in the most painful tone you heard from him, he truly sounded agonizing.

You cupped his face, detailing him as you often did. How much you hated to see him suffer. And yet how much you loved when he let his mask fall. “I love you so much Commodus…I would follow you into the depths of the underworld, in the middle of the bloodiest battles...” you said fondly, he was your whole world, since the moment you had met him. You pulled his face closer to yours, kissing him with strength, a strength no lady should express. But you couldn’t care less, it was to express your love, devotion and respect for the emperor. You could have feared his pride would be triggered but it didn’t, you heard Commodus whimper against your lips, pressing harder against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist and then hips. His grip was strong, almost painful, as if he feared it wasn’t real, a bad dream the gods would use against Commodus to torture him.

Your fingers went to bury in his hair, slightly pulling on them this time, you had retained your desire for a while.

“I love you too Y/N…I would slaughter my own father for you…give up on the throne.” He breathed against your lips, kissing your face, jaw and going down your neck, worshipping your body, his hands sliding under your dress to caress your thighs, his fingertips soft and his palm callous from handling a sword.

“Why not rule together? Slaughter our enemies together?” you suggested with a grin, you matched his violence, your teeth biting his lower lip as he met your eyes. He chuckled, it was clear by his look that he approved, that you would form the strongest and deadliest couple of the Empire.

Commodus harem: @skaravilee @lyoongxx @weirdflecksbutok @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle​ @ohcarlesmycarleses​ @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix​ @thatdummy-girll​ @galos-writing @hopelessdisaster002 @rosebloodstuffandthangs-bloghangss​ @clowndaddyfleck​ @jaylovesbats @dreamingmaria​ @just-a-fucking-comedy​ @lady-carnivals-stuff​ @sierracleganee​​ @lemondedeniname​​ @hvproductions​​ @syvellsworld​​ @papercut-paranoia​​ @jokerflecker​​ ​ @bring-your-holy-water @five-miles-overr​ @beatlebabe1996​ @kfanniart

[perfectmovieshots]

Her /2013 Director: Spike Jonze Cinematography: Hoyte van Hoytema

[galos-writing]

Hello, do you take request? I would love to read something about the Abbe being like at the end of the film, crazy and in a cell, reader is the new director and eventually develops feelings for him? I'm fascinated by the insane side of the Abbe tbh ^^

Thanks !

Hey, Anon! Tysm for ur request, and sorry if I took long to write it, but it pretty much inspired me, more than I expected lmao so I hope u don't mind if I wrote two parts of it ^^ oh btw I found myself using a new writing style, I hope u like it

enjoy!

------

The walls of the asylum of Charenton had welcomed you in a dark and unsettling embrace since you moved your first step inside, and the gazes of employees and patients detailing you while passing by the door of a neglected studio were sending shivers of discomfort down your spine.

“Thank you again for having accepted this job, (Y/N), your presence here has saved us all from failing.” An old but rigid man spoke to you with a stern tone while distractedly reading some papers you signed, his voice barely showing any clue of thankfulness.

You hadn’t liked this man at all since the first moment you met – you barely remembered his name –, but you couldn’t show your contempt for him, so your lips stretched in a polite smile. Years in company of those dry and lame of your Monastery companions had taught you how to put the perfect mask of complaisance.

However, now you finally feel part of a society, the new piece fixed in that perfectly functioning gear; maybe... not perfectly functioning, after all, by seeing the poor souls closed in that gloomy asylum.

“It’s a... pleasure for me to be here, Monsieur. It’s always a nice feeling to know you’re doing some good for who’s less fortunate than us, isn’t that true?” You asked, still smiling, your question a little tease to test what he would have answered you. Yet his glacial stare of response made you regret you had spoken that way.

“Of course. We live a life of privileges, especially since the Lord blessed us with a second chance after the slaughters the peasants have committed during the Revolution.” The man replied after some second of cold silence. Apparently, he was speaking about exclusively his wealthy social rank, even if I was meaning something completely different.

You slowly nod, pretending you were intending each other, and silently follow him outside the studio; the grin on his thin lips made you realize he knew he had made you uncomfortable.

You already were pretty tensed, but every shout or screech you could hear coming from the cells made you yelp.

“I hope you’re able to face every kind of struggle with professionalism, my dear, Charenton needs a leader with a tough shell from now on. And, for how good it may be, Charenton can’t be connected to the name Antoine-Athanase Royer-Collard; my reputation would be stained forever.” The man, whose name popped back in your memory now at his mentioning, explained worried. Pretty selfishly by thinking about his reputation only. But you didn’t lose your façade of courtesy.

“Of course, monsieur. I’ve heard about what happened in this building when it was under the guide of that man… an Abbé, right? I unfortunately can’t recall his name now…” You hummed, thoughtful, as your eyes quickly flashed from a side to the other as you saw Royer-Collard taking you to the end of a very long and pretty lonely hall, some sobs coming in your ears, louder and louder.

“Coulmier. Abbé François Simonet de Coulmier.” The Doctor helped you remembering, with a vexed tone, that made you swallow down, every second even more scared he would vent on you some kind of repressed anger.

“Well, former Abbé, now.” He continued, his tone becoming lighter, almost relieved. “The poor man’s mind couldn’t handle what happened here, and his soul is still devoured by guilt. The curse ghost of the Marquis De Sade took possession of the last bits of sanity left in the Abbé. He’s now irrecoverable, not even the Director that came after could save him.”

You could clearly hear he was actually faking sorrow for what he was narrating, but repressed the urge of rolling your eyes, you were growing tired of his arrogant behavior.

“Oh, yeah, the Abbé Du Maupas.” You said, nodding. You waited a bit to check if he would have given you any explanation about him without you to directly asked. But apparently, he didn’t catch the implicit message.

“What… What happened to him, exactly? Newspapers tell he disappeared, and some recent rumors claim him to be escaped to…”

“We know nothing about him. What we know is that he betrayed us, and abandoned us in the most desperate moment.” The Doctor roughly interrupted you, vexed again. “That’s why I want to make sure you’ll be our perfect leader. We are craving a trustworthy person.”

You were sure he was praising you and making you feel that important just to make sure you wouldn’t have abandoned them, so his reputation would be protected a little more. Until now, he wasn’t giving you the impression of being a man so emotionally involved into the sake of Charenton.

But when you two arrived in front of a specific cell, your mind didn’t care about Royer-Collard anymore. Your ears captured the noises of soft whimpering inside, with the starting of a thunderstorm, that made whoever was inside yelp and let out an agitated louder moan.

Your eyes noticed a little engraving on the door, on the side of the door, quoting: ‘lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate’. You squinted your eyes a bit, trying to understand what language it was, not French for sure.

“Uhm...monsieur?” You called the Doctor, as to encourage him to explain why you two were standing in front of that creepy door. But he raised a hand with the index finger up, as to interrupt your words and shush you. You got a bit offended by his sudden interruption, but soon your vex was replaced by a startle, as you heard the door in front of you loudly slam.

You put your arms in front of you instinctively to protect yourself, the side of your eye noticed the Doctor didn’t even flinch at that.

But your focus was stuck on a pair of eyes peeking from a large peephole on the door: big eyes, their color appeared to be a mix of green and blue, the lashes so long. You could have dared to say they were magnetic and almost sensual if they weren’t wide and frantically looking around. You were so scared by that young man that was on the other side, revealing now a round face and a strong jawline, a mole on the left side of his jaw and a big nose, a messy stubble on his chin and long greasy dark hair. The detail that mostly captured your attention was a scar running up his left nostril from his thin upper lip.

The man appeared as scared as you were, not knowing what to do, he slowly turned towards you and deeply stared at you, not even blinking, his eyes piercing your soul. You hesitantly waved at him, frightened by his stare, before realizing that was another patient and your behavior wasn’t being professional at all, so you cleared your throat and gave that man a kind smile. But apparently, according to Royer-Collard, you were too slow and anticipated you before you could speak.

“Good morning, Abbé. You look splendid today.” He praised with a little sly grin. You blinked and widened your eyes, ‘Abbé’?! You detailed better that man with a blank gaze that was nervously twirling and pulling a lock of his long hair around his finger behind the enforced door, and your heart swelled with pain, so that’s what happened to him. What Royer-Collard said was true.

The patient creepily giggled. “You’re always...so kind, Doctor… It’s thanks to you if all of us patients are glowing…! You gave us... a new light...” He cooed with a very weak and raspy voice, nibbling his chipped and dirty fingernails.

You weren’t so sure those patients were having an actual improvement from the Doctor’s cures, judging by the dead light you saw in the eyes of most of them. Some had been obviously lobotomized, and you could tell the rest of them had been sedated with a massive dose of opium, way more than medicine would recommend. The thought of it made you shudder, and even more the satisfied grin on Royer-Collard’s face, pleased by the praises of the former priest.

You approached the door of the cell, and tried to catch his elusive gaze, your heart swelling up with pain at seeing a man that saw so respected and esteemed to the other side.

“Monsieur Coulmier, it’s a deep pleasure for me to get to finally know you. Your work here inspired me a lot – your patients loved you! I hope you’re finding your peace behind there, after all that happened.” You softly spoke to him, hearing a clear scoff of nuisance from the Doctor at your cordiality. However you ignored that, focused on that patient deeply staring into your eyes, his pupils were shaking, which made you worry for his health and doubt for his wellness.

“My dear… you found yourself in the lair of the wolf, I suppose. May the Almighty shield thy from the evil energy this place is soaked in till the most intimate bones of the damned souls wandering in here...hah-...!” He paused to catch his breath. He was so tensed he had forgotten how to balance his talking and his breathing.

He coughed a couple times and swallowed down; you could tell his throat was so dry – like his lips.

“Your eyes are virgin, they saw no evil in the world, and your heart is pure… rejoice of your innocence, and leave. Leave before you get absorbed by the dark forces.”

And by saying this, you could see his hand approach the peephole, clumsily trying to make it pass through it, and get its way to your face; you noticed his gaze of deep sorrow for you, almost communicating you he was foreseeing what would have happened to you already.

His hand was approaching your face more and more, which made your heart beat fast, defying your common sense and self-control.

But that moment of trance, that connection that was being formed between you and him – so intimate and almost comfortable – got roughly interrupted by the Doctor. He hit the poor François’s hand with his elegant and expensive cane, making the young man yelp in pain and quickly pull his hand back inside.

“Enough with this nonsense, Coulmier. Pull yourself back together once and for all.” The old man harshly scolded him, making the patient roll his eyes.

“You know what could help me, Doctor.” the former Abbé spoke, staring at him in a way that gave you chills; it was cold and emotionless, but deep down swollen in sorrow. He licked his lips to barely hydrate them before speaking again, and took a fatigued and shaky breath. “Paper. Ink. Quill. Three simple tools can help a man’s soul to get cleaned by writing. It’s the easiest solution, but you’re too stubborn to admit I’m right.”

On François’s lips a smirk appeared, showing his teeth being everything but healthy, the sight gave you a deep sense of discomfort. You could tell the Doctor was feeling the same, the air was getting tensed. Nevertheless, the Doctor scoffed.

“And letting you start a new circle of transgression? Hah! Keep dreaming, Abbé.” He snarled at the man behind the armored door, who replied readily with a decisive and outraged spit right in his eye.

That gesture gave you the impression that time had stopped: François was staring at the Doctor with eyes full of hatred and tears. The Doctor was staring back, with superiority. Both completely silent, so much that was deafening you.

He wasn’t showing but somehow you felt like Royer-Collard was loading himself for some burst of rage, or some unreasonable punishment towards the prisoner; you could literally see his face getting redder and redder for wrath. You couldn’t let for anything bad to happen.

“Doctor Royer-Collard, Monsieur… May you allow me to talk to our patient? I mean, privately?” You let out in a shy breath, words spilled out by themselves almost. Indeed the old man gave you the fish eye, while François retained a little gasp, and glared at you surprised.

“...sure. I forgot you’re the boss here.” The Doctor scoffed, kind of throwing you a passive-aggressive dagger, and handed you a big chunk of keys, all for each cell. “Good luck, you’ll need it.”

His behavior was hurting you more than you wanted to admit. You silently nodded, making a face to retain tears, and quickly opened the door of François’s cell, making sure not to slam it out of anger. You accidentally let out a loud sigh of relief when you heard the old man walking away, your brain wanted to ignore the repugnant smell in that cell that immediately reached your nostrils.

“He’s a jerk, I know.” The young man said with a gloomy mutter, making your eyes rush on him; he was sitting in a corner of the room, his legs curled up on his chest and his hair covering his face.

You scoffed and shook your head, wanting to hide your true feelings for now. “I…still need to get used to him. He’s not evil, though.” You smiled at him sweetly, and approached him. You coughed a bit at his strong body odor, but that only made your pain for those patients and their neglected condition grow more.

“Not evil? But… have you looked around the Asylum?! It’s decaying like its patients inside! He..he…” He was starting to get more agitated: his voice was shaky, and his eyes were flashing from one side to the other, as his nails were scratching his own arms.

“He managed to destroy my little heaven in less than one year…” He concluded in a breath, his words slipping out slowly, while his beautiful eyes filled with big, crystal clean tears, the only innocent thing left in that perishing man devoured by the filth of the world.

You listened to him carefully, rubbing his back to sooth him. His past reputation was what inspired you to work in an asylum, and wanted to do a good job like he used to. In a way, you admired him, and wanted him to see his little heaven to shine again.

Your eyes sparkled with hope and determination as those thoughts ran through your mind: yes, you would have managed to give Charenton a new light. Hopefully, that poor man’s shattered heart would have been repaired a little bit.

“I have heard so many things about you, Abbé… you were quite a scandal among all the Directors of the asylums all over France, a man who didn’t fit into standard treatments and threw his faith in experimental new treatments. You’re what those who fought and died for during the Revolution were aiming to: kindness to those in need. You’re an inspiration.” You softly spoke to him, leaning down and reaching your hand out at him, offering him a hand to get up.

That man’s sorrow slowly vanished, giving space to the cutest boyish expression you could have imagined on the face of a grown man: his eyes lighted up in yours, his tears dried instantly and his cheeks colored a deep red. Your words had hit him right in the heart apparently.

He hesitantly grabbed your hand, accepting your help, yet the exact moment your hands clenched to each other, a bond forming between you and him could be felt by both. It felt like a little electric shock starting from your fingers, quickly speeding through your body and turning into a nice warmth in your hearts.

Continue...

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[impermanent-art]

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Work by Sloe in North Hollywood.

[monsterpawpr]

🃏 JOKER Folie à Deux 🃏  Crazy In Love 🔥

[askmrfleck]

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.