Alone with You Inside My Mind - Yandere!Commodus x Reader

Pairing: Yandere!Commodus x Reader

Word Count: 2,071

Summary: Commodus becomes madly obsessed with the reader after the reader appears in his dreams and comforts the touch-starved prince longing for affection.

“Stay with me tonight?”

“You know I will not.” Lucilla sat on the edge of her brother’s bed and gently stroked his dark hair, flecked with golden dust. Oh, how Commodus loved her touch. Ever since he lost his mother, the prince had found comfort and solace in his elder sister’s embrace. It was the only thing that kept him from scolding the gods for taking his mother away. “Commodus…”

“Yes?”

“Father has arranged it. I am to be married soon.”

Commodus looked up, his eyes meeting hers. Her sweet, icy voice cut him like daggers. “But…that’s impossible…I-I-I…I need you. Father can’t do this.”

As if she were comforting a child, Lucilla wiped his eyes with her fingertips. “It’s for the good of this family.”

“Tearing us apart?”

She sighed. It was no use convincing him, or trying to reason with him. Commodus was always driven by his emotions, despite their father being a stoic. If Commodus’s mind were a chariot, it would be driven by a four-year-old wearing a lion skin who cried at the slightest obstacle. Lucilla brought her hands to Commodus’s hair and kissed his forehead. 

“Sleep well, dear brother.”

Commodus watched her leave, his peridot eyes fighting back tears. He thought she would understand his night terrors, his fear of the darkness that wasn’t simply a childish trait. 

She knew what his darkness entailed. She knew, having comforted him for years as a little boy, letting him sleep in her bed chambers when he was barely up to her knee. And it all came to a halt one day, when their father deemed it inappropriate for a growing prince to ‘take shelter from those he ought to be protecting’. His father was certainly right, to a degree; Commodus needed to protect his sister from the evils that could harm them. But how could he protect her when the world insisted on tearing them apart? How could he protect her when she refused to stay by his side, instead of remaining close to her dear brother? 

Relentlessly ruminating, Commodus sighed and ambled towards the golden vanity in his chambers. He dipped his fingers into a small pot of lavender-scented oil and dabbed it behind his ears, before covering his face with a thin layer of cream, specifically meant to eliminate blemishes of any kind. 

Adjusting his night toga one last time, the prince climbed into bed, under the covers, still engrossed in the memory of his dear sister comforting him in his childhood. Why did she have to go? He closed his eyes, curled into fetal position, shivering in anticipation of the nightmare that would come for him, just as it had always come.

“Commodus…its time…” The demonic, high-pitched voice gleefully teased the prince.

Commodus felt his arms and his legs being bound by something strong, something tight…it couldn’t be rope. They could only be demons, holding him at each limb. He felt himself being lifted, glancing down to find nothing but gray cement below him and maniacal laughter everywhere else.

“Where am I going?! Who are you, why are you taking me?” He asked aloud, the panic in his voice increasing with each word. “What’s happening? Tell me!”

His pleas were met with even more maniacal laughter…and numerous pairs of red and yellow eyes staring at him with glee. They continued to laugh as they swung Commodus side to side before flinging him into a pit.

“NO! No, please! NO!!!”

The prince was thrown, only to land with a clatter. Commodus gasped, his eyes darting about…was he surrounded by bones? But before he could look any more, he heard the sound of growling. Commodus turned his head to find jackals and wolves advancing towards him, growling menacingly with every step they took, their yellow eyes fairly conspicuous against the darkness. 

The hairs on the back of Commodus’s neck began to stand up straight, his limbs began to shiver, and his voice fell to a mere whimper. “No…p-p-p-p-please, no…” He backed into a corner as they continued to growl. One of the wolves licked their lips, and its predatorial gaze met the prince’s wide, horrified eyes. 

Commodus grabbed one of the bones to use as a makeshift weapon, only for the jackals to knock it away with its paw. 

“Someone, help!” Commodus shrieked, his eyes welling with tears. “PLEASE! ANYBODY! HELP ME! HELP ME!!!” Tears streamed down his cheeks.

A howl pierced through the night, and it was followed by a laugh…Lucilla’s?!

Commodus caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, and found them all standing there like spectators in the Colosseum - his father, Lucilla, his brothers, his mother…even that stupid Spaniard Lucilla and his father fawned over, all of them smirking at him with glee.

“You were never strong enough, Commodus.” Commodus’s father declared with an emotionless expression. 

Just then, a jackal caught the fabric of Commodus’s toga between his teeth and ripped the garment with a swift motion. Lucilla laughed again, louder and merrier. Then, the rest of the pack joined in the carnage, ripping and tearing into his clothing and flesh. And all the prince could do was scream and cry, begging for mercy until….

everything disappeared in an instant. 

Commodus blinked his eyes again. This time, he awoke in a modest yet comfortable, cream-colored bed, covered in bedsheets softer than feathers. There were no spectators, there were no wolves or jackals, there was only…you.

“You’re awake!” You entered the chamber, which was dimly lit by a few candles, wearing a white stola.

The prince sat up in bed, now realizing that he was wearing nothing but a loincloth. “Where am I? The wolves, the jackals,…Lucilla?”

“No,” you replied. “They are not here now." 

Commodus’s eyes followed you as you poured a glass of water and brought it to his bedside. So beautiful…and so kind to him, a complete stranger. Surely you must be a goddess, for no human would take such compassion upon someone they have not known. He took a sip from the glass, letting the cool liquid calm him.

"You have nothing to fear, Commodus,” you gently continued, “No one will harm us now. You are safe with me.” You took his free hand in yours and brought his knuckles to your lips.

Commodus blinked yet again, this time out of surprise that you knew his name and were so bold as to touch him. It was not until that kiss that he realized how much he needed your touch. He shuddered with delight for a moment as your gentle, soft fingers brushed against the back of his hand. And your smile…so simple and pure, nothing like the fake smiles the Senate gave when he came to the Forum with his father, or when he excitedly told Lucilla his dreams about being the greatest Emperor. 

“Tell me who you are,” Commodus begged, silently admiring each and every aspect of your beauty. But before you answered, there was a knock at the door.

“I must go." 

"No, wait…”

His toga drenched with sweat and his limbs aching, Commodus sat up in bed, rudely awakened by the sound of a guard knocking at his door who announced breakfast. 

Commodus begrudgingly opened the door and let his servants help him get dressed for the day. Yet in the corner of his eye, while a servant put a golden arm cuff on Commodus’s wrist, he saw you - it couldn’t have been anyone else - pouring a glass of water and coyly offering him a smile, just as you did in the dream.

The rest of the day was nothing short of painful. When Commodus broke his fast with his father and sister, all they were talking about were new developments in the wars with Germania. And of course they talked more about a Spaniard named Maximus who would be joining the palace. For what reason, Commodus didn’t know. 

Then, Commodus intervened the conversation and asked his father if, when he left for Germania again, if Commodus could lead his own legion into battle. All he received was yet another version of the same admonishment - that Commodus was too young and not mature enough for battle. It was awful, to say the least; how was he, Commodus, the only living son of Emperor Marcus Aurelius, supposed to become a great emperor without being acquainted with the armies?! How long would he treat Commodus like a little boy, even as Commodus was nearing the age of nineteen?

The prince took his frustrations out in his weaponry classes, defeating every one of his opponents to the ground after rounds of vigorous fighting, only to be admonished again by his tutor, who reprimanded Commodus for his anger. According to the tutor, anger was a warrior’s greatest enemy, for it clouded a warrior’s judgement and led to rash mistakes.

Exhausted - both mentally and physically - Commodus found himself collapsing into bed again, after his nightly routine of drops of perfume and a faceful of cream.

That night, the wolves and the jackals attacked him again, and Lucilla and his father laughed again, and - much to the prince’s surprise - you were there to comfort him again. But this time, before you could leave to answer the knock, Commodus caught your wrist and stared into your eyes.

“Tell me who you are,” he repeated, slightly more demanding. “You do have a name?”

You replied with a soft kiss to his cheek. “We’ll meet soon, Commodus.” Another knock, and you were gone.

Commodus woke up, disgruntled, and barked at the guards this time when they announced breakfast. 

This went on for at least two more weeks. Every night, Commodus would endure the same nightmare of being attacked while others mocked him only to find himself in your chamber, being comforted by you in the same way a faithful lover comforts their dearest beloved. And every night, you left before he could learn your name, leaving him with nothing but memories and images of you. 

Commodus cursed Venus aloud every morning when he woke from this dream, demanding to know why She would bring you, so lovely and divine, and never reveal your name. Why would Venus be so cruel to make you invade his dreams and his thoughts, and yet keep you away from being in his arms?

He couldn’t stop keep you away from his mind, even while he was dining with his family or practicing with his sword and shield. He wanted, no, needed to know who you were, whether you were a goddess or a human, whether you were living in the empire, whether you were married or engaged to someone else.

“Commodus, you cannot go on like this.” Lucilla chastised him one day when he was caught at breakfast mulling over his dreams about you. “You need to see Galen, it has been a while.” Lucilla sighed and snapped her fingers, bringing her brother away from his thoughts.

Commodus relented, agreeing to see the physician based on Lucilla’s claim that Commodus was not of sound health. Galen had never been able to help Commodus completely stop seeing nightmares, though he was capable of producing a tonic or two that would make Commodus sleep like a corpse for twelve hours straight.

When Commodus approached Galen and the physician asked for his reason for coming, the prince immediately narrated each and every nightmare of his. He expounded upon your appearance in all of those dreams, how you comforted him with your soft touch, how you enchanted him with your loveliness. 

The physician was visibly taken aback, not expecting to hear what in his mind seemed irrelevant for a diagnosis. 

“I suppose I can give you the tonic we’ve used before…” Galen hesitantly began to look around his apothecary for ingredients.

Commodus shook his head. “Tell me about dreams, Galen. What do they mean?”

“Imperator, dreams can be either a message from the gods, or a symbol of something that is to come in the future. Perhaps both.”

The prince nodded slowly. “Then I must find her, Galen. I must find the one who has come to me in my dreams, for surely she is meant to be mine. That is why the gods have shown her to me. I need to find her, and claim her as mine.”