#Geta x fem reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

musedblues · 5 months ago

Text

AMORE ~ FATI (part 1)

a/n: wait until the movie? nah. haven't stopped thinking about this freaky fucker since the trailer dropped! eat up, babes. also the horny police called and there is a warrant out for my arrest.

description: after winding up in a crime related to the royals, geta strikes up a deal with you.

warnings: down right hoe shit, sexual descriptions, gruesome descriptions, minimal historical research/ distant memories from high school test, cliff hanger. MINORS DNI

Part 1 of 2 (at least)

///

The afternoon was like any other, the day your life changed. You awoke to an empty home, gathered your cart of crafts, and headed to the stalls. You sold your paintings there and begged the clouds to cover the swelter of the sun.

For your landscape art, you accepted coin. You accepted food. You accepted a jeweled ring that afternoon, just as well. An exchange like it wasn't out of the ordinary. You pawned the adornment for cash that evening, and made the trek back home. With plans to paint pictures into the night, to sell off the next day.

Your home was quaint, once big enough for two, now only you haunted the halls. The man you'd once been forced to marry had been dead for many months now, and a certain freedom was found in his absence. But a certain monotony about your routine seemed to predetermine the days ahead as far as you could see them. So, you painted.

As you fiddled with brushes and stained your grey dress with speckles of deep amber, a bursting knock came across your door. The guest gave you no time to greet them before turning into an intruder. Two royal guards burst into your home, shouting and grabbing you and dragging you away. All so quickly.

You went fighting. You cursed as they held you in a carriage. You demanded their silence broken. But they remained stone faced as you begged to know why you'd been abducted from your home.

Your captors rode into the city, past the colosseum, right through the gates that led to the home of the reigning family. Your heart hammered in fear, knowing what you knew about the rulers. Caracalla and Geta had only just taken over the reign of their father, their mother looming near, picking sides; as you understood. Since the change in leadership, Rome hadn't suffered en mass. But a growing dread hung heavy over the population, knowing the brothers were struggling to join together in power. Knowing their clash divided not only their power, but all of Rome.

You were grabbed at once more, forced out of the carriage and into the great hall of the estate. Gold and red statues lined the entrance. A plum rug stretched before your feet, a welcoming cushion as the rest of your senses were drowned by harshness. Before you, pacing near his throne, Geta waited.

You'd seen him and his brother before, trailing behind their father at rallies. Lingering near the stands at games. You'd always let your gaze settle on Geta, if ever you'd seen him. You'd always been drawn to gawk at the trimness of his figure. The enigmatic expressions he would pull. The presence he commanded. He was easy to admire, from afar. And the towns ladies often gossiped of how alluring he could be up close, if they were lucky enough to be invited to do so. No one spoke as much of Caracalla. In his name, fear and loathing often followed.

With a glare in your direction, Geta ceased pacing. He nodded toward his guards to relinquish their hold on you.

"What is all this?" You demanded, refusing to bow or humble yourself before this ruler in anyway. How could you dare offer up respect when little to none had been offered to you? Geta seemed taken aback, for a flash. His brows furrowed and his lips parted in shock, at your boldness. But then a grin flickered across his lips and his pacing started up once more.

"You're in possession of something of mine, no?" Geta alluded. Want as you might've to argue, to proclaim your innocence, you were too baffled. What could he possibly be on about?

"You were seen taking a ring as payment today, at your stall." Geta boomed, voice filling the room, echoing off the tall painted ceilings. He started into a story, then, that made things clearer. You learned that ring was a family heirloom, stolen by a servant only one night ago. That he'd sold it to a carriage driver for freedom. You learned that servant had been slain. But the ring was still gone. And you were the last person seen with the distinct bluish jewel in your palm. There were many a shopper along the street market this morning. Several were looking into your stall as you accepted the ring for payment. You couldn't deny the action. But you didn't have it any longer, anyhow.

"I exchanged it for money. With the sellers near the river." You decidedly conceded. "I've got nothing more to do with this now release me." Your voice shook, out of fear for your fate, and anger for your circumstance.

"Names." Geta stalled his meander, a few steps away from you. His dark eyes had cast across your figure before boring right into yours. You couldn't look right at him without feeling a shiver up your spine. And you were not about to let on that Geta had this effect on you. So, you cast your gaze to the hands at his sides, and scoffed at what you saw.

"Why? Are the rings already on your fingers not good enough? You cannot be allowed to want for what you don't have, if you're in possession of more than enough already."

"What's mine is mine! No one else's." Geta yelled, keeping his eye's boring into yours. His voice shook through the halls, and fueled your rage further. Your rage for your circumstance, and for that of this nation.

"Your greed shall poison this empire." You spat at the man.

"An empire I was born to rule cannot be soured, destiny has been at work since my conception and my father's before me." Geta grinned, an all-knowing sort of smile that was meant to belittle you, you were certain. But you couldn't be made to feel so worthless.

"We are all born to die, your highness."

"Your opposition will result in bleakness if you do not answer my call for this information. Give me their names." Geta shouted, still inches from you. Geta was giving you a chance to answer. And that shocked you. You voiced your opposition only because you thought you were surely moments away from being killed, and refused to die without standing your ground. But here you still stood. Geta was letting you.

As taken aback by his patience as you were, his arrogance and demanding shouts were only deepening your desire to withhold. To stand resolute. Who were you to ruin some poor people's lives over a bit of jewelry? Your silence was deafening, each passing moment tensing at Geta's shoulders. You watched his jaw clench, you watched his eye's dance between your own. You smiled.

"Get her out of my sight." Geta hissed, waving his men to capture you once more. You rolled your eyes as they grabbed at you. "Keep her in the cellar until she starts talking. Do not, however... take drastic measures."

You shot a perplexed frown the rulers way as he shook his head in your direction. A scowl turned Geta's lips down. But as he watched you begin to growl in unwillingness to go, his smile curled to life.

"And what of you? What punishments are you allotted?" You yelled as the guards dragged you away. Geta kept his furrowed smirk pointed at you, a puzzled sparkle in his eye.

///

The cellar smelled damp as it felt, your feet squelching along the dirt paths. You'd been taken past a row of prisoners, all in various stages of wither. You closed your eyes too them, offering silent prayers for their fates in passing.

"In you go," A guard shoved you toward the back of a small cell, chuckling as he locked the barred off door. "When you're ready to talk, we just might be around to listen. Let's hope we don't forget about you all the way over in this corner."

How had you ended up here? Hours ago, you'd been at peace in your quiet cottage, paint brush in hand. Now you sat on a wooden bench, senses filled with cold. How were the gods so cruel? Why did you have to accept that stupid ring? Why didn't you admire it longer? Maybe you would've found evidence of its owner, somehow, in the royal gleam of the thing. Maybe you could have returned it with honor, the promise of your home awaiting you. But none of that was happening. Now, you were unsure of everything. But you weren't going to go down without a fight. You weren't going to rat out the innocent fellow you pawned with, for simply surviving another day of this confounding life. You weren't eager to play into the rulers demands for more, as if he didn't have enough. As if he deserved to be granted assurance when himself and his brother offered Rome none.

Hours must've passed. Guards floated by time and again, jeering at you through the bars of your cell. As they passed you by, the voices grew louder yet, giving other prisoners hell. You heard shouts and screams. You heard begging for torture to cease. You heard the stabbing of flesh and the gurgle of blood. You heard the quiet from your own cell. Why were you being spared of such treatment? Why was your confinement different from the others?

As you began to question your own sanity, and the fate the gods had in store for you, a guard was passing by your cell once more. He stopped there, jamming a key into the lock. This was it. Your turn had come. You braced to be berated as the man reached in and yanked you to stand. The guard demanded you to follow as he dragged you through the cellar the same way you'd come in.

Suddenly you were in the great hall again. The purple carpet like clouds under your step. There were servants arranging decor as if an event were to be taking place soon. Your observation of the hall was short lived as the single guard dragged you up a marble staircase. The home was vast, and full of well painted statues and portraits and windows. The sun was long gone from the sky. It had to be later than midnight. As you soaked up your surroundings and let your imagination run wild, you tried not to worry how you'd be executed. You tried to remind yourself that death waited for no one. You tried to remember the last picture you'd been painting, a field of sheep under a setting sun.

Your captor stalled before a great carved door, twisting the handle. Your captor dragged you inside.

Candles lit a room with a bed in the middle, the biggest you'd ever seen. The amber glow of the space was welcoming, despite the terror that resided about your situation. Beyond the bed was a table full of wine, bottles of all sort decorated the clothed stand. Before the table, was Geta. His slump on a stool shifted when he saw you. Moving to stand, the man dressed more scarcely than before was slow to approach you. His expression unreadable.

"Leave us." He demanded, pointing the guard to exit the room. The man's parting left chills in his wake. What was to become of you now? What was this all about?

Geta did not stay still at your front. He instead let his head roll from one side to the other as his pace turned back toward the cloth covered table. Among the bottles of wine were a scattered few chalices. He filled one with a drink. And then another.

"We caught the carriage driver who initially accepted the ring." Geta announced, back toward you all the while. You admired the tone of his shoulders, as one was left uncovered by his robe. The cloth stayed tied among his waist. "We also captured the man you pawned the ring off to. We have the ring." Geta continued, bringing both cups of wine over to where you stood. Ah, so poison was to be your execution?

Accepting the chalice in a fist, you stayed silent all the while. Geta locked his tired gaze on yours and kept talking.

"The ring was my fathers. Something he left just to me. Caracalla was given finery as well, just for himself. We do not do well with equity, my brother and I." Geta raised his wine for a sip and kept his dark gaze locked on your own. His eye's were red from lack of sleep, it seemed. His eyes were bright, all the while, as they peered into yours. This leader had a way of drawing you in. This leader had a way of making you forget you were probably on the verge of slaughter or worse.

"And while this mission to hunt down the ring has been my mission alone, Caracalla's wrath has still been promoted since he learned something of our fathers had gone missing." Geta explained.

"What's become of the carriage driver and the man I sold your ring to?" You dared to wonder.

"The servant was killed as you know, by Caracalla's own sword. The driver has been exiled at my command." Geta said. "But the man you sold it too was killed as well, by my brother's guards. Before I could get to him. You see my wrath is often equal to Caracalla's. But my bloodlust isn't as insatiable. And I can see his way of violence has stirred fear among our people. Would you agree?"

You had to nod.

"I do not wish death upon you. Blood should only be shed in battles and in honor. You were a simple moving part. You should not deserve to be killed in the crossfire. But you should pay for stumbling where you dared not have stepped. Otherwise, Caracalla will catch wind that I let you slip away without a punishment. And he will do worse."

"So, what is my fate?" You wondered, clutching the wine in your fist, unmoving. Mind whirring. Had you really been shown a backhanded kindness by the ruler you'd always believed to be more unyielding? His already alluring nature becoming more attractive as you understood this to be true.

"Exile seems drastic, yes. But it's an option." Geta raised his glass to gesture, moving to pace before a cushioned chaise. This room, his room, wanted for nothing. There was space and comfort and treasure promised throughout its expanses.

"Then there could be a fine. You'd be meant to pay every fortnight." Geta reasoned drinking once more. Still not entirely trusting of your own wine, you rested the chalice on a nearby chest, crossing your arms with a scowl. As if this Empire needed more money.

"I'm too poor to keep that up." You spat, expressing displeasure in your tone. Geta raised a brow and frowned when he realized your implication, how much work needed to be done for the betterment of the population. With a sigh, Geta cast his gaze about the room. When his pace turned naturally closer to you, his eye's locked on your face as a realization dawned across his. Geta let a smirk hint at his lips as his dark eyes glanced into yours.

"There is... another way..." Geta implied something you didn't see coming. As the man continued his languid back and forth, his gaze stayed ever fixed on your figure. And you hadn't really been ashamed of the glances you'd stolen of his, this day. He was drawing closer, as if to entice you. He didn't need to know that it wouldn't have taken much seduction. He didn't need to know that you'd already been wondering what it would be like to untie the robe at his waist.

Geta didn't need to know that you were becoming less wrought with terror by the second. You'd hoped he'd never known you were afraid, before. But now, in the flickering candlelight of his lavish room, you saw him. The persona Geta had put on all these years, all this time, was just that. You could see plain as day. Geta was full of anger, yes. But he seemed full of so much more, to you, now, too. The man seemed to hold a brewing mixture of depth about him that felt so obvious all of a sudden. Now, more endeared to the ruler, and just as attracted, you made up your mind.

"Seeing as I have no funds... let's just get this over with." You sighed, feigning impatience for the wrong reasons.

Geta circled you, eyeing you up. You wanted to melt under how hot his gaze was. But right now this was all happening far too slowly. Your interest had skyrocketed. But your time had also been heavily wasted here. You had plans, after all. He'd held you captive long enough.

"Sit down. I'm tired of waiting." You barked at him, shoving his shoulder so he collapsed into the chaise. Geta fell seated at your order but looked up to you with an irate sneer. An anger passed over his expression but morphed into curiosity in a blink.

"Seeing as to how I'm getting what I want out of you, I don't mind giving into your demands." Geta announced, as if to remind you he was the one calling the shots. You couldn't help but grin, struggling not to roll your eyes at the man's obsession with power. Humming so he knew you heard him, you settled either knee at Geta's sides.

As the ruler's fingers reached to grab at your hips, your day flashed before your imagination. Funny how life worked. How days could be spent so monotonously for so long only to become upturned and scattered about the next. You never imagined you'd find yourself straddling one of Rome's emperors over a payment for your latest painting.

Geta's kiss surprised you. Not the fact that it was bruising, and harsh. But the fact that it was. You assumed this would go quickly, without much effort put into anything besides a quick and vulgar shagging. Granted, his lips didn't press into yours longer than a couple minutes, before his teeth were digging into your neck. But the way his hands wandered to grab at your limbs and claw at your skin was a welcomed affection you had not expected.

When you finally got to untie the robe around his waist, you couldn't help but admire the build of his core, the shape of his figure. You'd heard girl's oggle over the emperor before, he was no stranger to trysts of most kind. You'd heard girl's trade deadly details of their nights spent with Geta, his lust unbridled. But the sight of his body bare before yours was better than any rumor you'd caught wind of.

As you lowered yourself into Geta's lap, he was quick to rock his hips against yours with force you had been bracing for. His grip on your hips threatened to turn you over, but you'd be damned if you let him gain complete control. You rose a hand to the man's head, raking a set of fingers through his hair. Your fingers curled to grip with perhaps too much gusto, and your hips rolled to force Geta back, more fully seated.

You heard the man let out a hoarse curse as his grip lightened, as he accepted your dominance. Did this really count as payment if you were getting more out of it?

Geta pushed you away when it was all said and done, a steady hand stayed holding your side as he nudged you off of his lap. You maneuvered to stand, adjusting the skirt of your dress with a sigh.

"I suppose I should thank you for sparing my life. Surely thought you'd take it. Shame our exchange has come to an end. Didn't quite feel like a payment at all." A daring smirk painted your face as you turned to head for the door. You heard Geta lumber to stand, perhaps drunk off wine and pleasure. His feet padded as your hand reached for the handle of your escape.

"What was the painting?" Geta asked, stalling your leave and perplexing you to turn to face him. He was shrugging his robe back into place with a raised brow. "The painting bought with my ring, what was it?"

"Oh," You realized, pursing a frown. "I- I don't exactly recall. I do a lot of landscapes. Seascapes. Could've been anything like it." You noted. Geta watched you speak, mouth opened, stalled to say more. His tongue glided over the ends of his teeth as the man nodded and sauntered back toward his table full of wine.

"My guards will see to your return home." Geta called, back facing you. You took that as your leave, anxious for some rest after exhausting your mind with wonder all day, and your body with pleasure this night. As you shut the emperor's door with a soft click, a gratitude filled your chest. That could've gone a lot worse.

///

The next day seemed surreal. You recalled the night like a fevered dream, like a plot from a book. But there were scratches along your thighs that reminded you what had happened was very truly real. You recalled the feelings Geta stirred in you with warmth.

You milled from room to room, mind in constant awe of the way your life had been spared. Since the brothers had come into power, so many senseless killings had been threatened and followed through. So much violence had afflicted common criminals and the odd person out of place alike. Was it more to do with Caracalla? Was he truly the more cruel? Did Geta have a softness about him? Or had you just gotten damn lucky?

You went about your daily chores and sat down to paint. Your art displayed sheep dotting across greyish green land. Your setting sun was in progress. A breeze flowed through the window, and you imagined it in your painting as well. A knocking rattled your door. It's persistence grating your nerves. Only now, at least, no one was intruding.

Maybe that's why you were shocked more so now than before, to see two royal guards at your front door.

"Geta is demanding your audience." One of them chuckled lowly before reaching to grab at you. He was too strong to fight off, though kick and yell you did.

Oh God, he'd realized he'd let you off easy, hadn't he? You should've pretended to hate rocking against his lap in that chair. You should've begged for freedom. Or maybe it was Caracalla after all. Maybe he'd heard of your involvement with his father's stolen ring and wished you dead. And these guards were luring you in with a false promise that Geta was the one wishing for a meeting.

While your mind raced, and the carriage took off into the city and passed the colosseum, you cursed the guards for dragging you away again. For being such fowl scum of the earth to manhandle women like they did.

It wasn't long before you were being yanked from the ride and marched into the great hall with that luscious purple carpet underfoot. Geta was there, assessing a scroll with a couple of servants nearby. His shock surprised you, when his glance looked up from the papers.

As you squirmed against the holds the guards kept on you, Geta shoved the scroll he held onto, into the grasp of a servant. He drew his sword from his side, the instrument of war and horror blinding you in its brightness. The emperors stomp in your direction was quick, his footfall shaking the building and you to your core. This was it. This was your fate.

"Release her now!" Geta yelled, directing his fury to one of the guards at your side. Before the words fully formed from the man's mouth, either of the guard's grips had unlatched from your arms. You did not see that coming. You almost couldn't comprehend that his blade had missed piercing straight through you.

"You were gone for all of a few seconds before you bring her back here?" Geta quizzed, face red with anger. He held the end of his sword to the man's chin, forcing his footsteps back.

"You- you told us to go fetch the girl from last afternoon, is that not what we did your highness?" The guard was bold in asking, though his voice trembled.

"I told you to ask her to come. I told you to remain at her door in patience. And you dare drag the woman back in the matter of mere moments? With force? That's a direct disregard of my orders!" With speed that rallied a gasp from your throat, Geta whipped his sword to slash at the knees of the guard that defied him. The man let out a cry as his legs gave way, sending the fellow to collapse. Geta ordered the other guard to take the injured one to a medic and stay there until he was ready to deal with them further. His blood pooled and stained the purple carpet.

"Why am I here again?" You couldn't linger in uncertainty any longer, once again failing to greet the leader without any respect of his authority. Geta plunged his red stained sword into its sheath as he demanded his servants get out. The workers scattered at the sound of his command, scurrying toward exits. The room was filled with quiet as Geta turned to face you fully.

"I'm sorry they dragged you here. You were only meant to show up if you so wished." Geta's voice was lower, his rage subdued. He confounded you, the way he held so much darkness and contempt about him. The way he eased into constraint. These were not the stories you had heard. This was not the man described to you by retired servants and wives of soldiers. He was more withheld, before you. And it caught you by surprise time and again.

"But since you are here now, and you have not yet raised a hand to lash across my cheek, I shall tell you," Geta went on, letting his eyes do what they had done before. Letting his gaze sweep across your figure. "I asked you here to present to you a proposition. An invitation to spend more evenings like the one we shared just before."

"You cannot be serious." You let a breath of a laugh fan from your throat.

"I'm hardly ever anything but." Geta reasoned with a curled lip and a shrug of his shoulder in a way you knew was meant to get you to chuckle for real. This man continued to confound you. This man contained multitudes. How had no one else, in all their gossip, mentioned this?

"Is this more to do with payment? Did our exchange not suffice?" You reasoned, still uncertain of the terms in which Geta was asking.

"I think you know exactly how well our exchange sufficed. Well enough for me to not have stopped dreaming of doing exactly that time and time again. I'm merely asking because I wish too." Geta was so close, his breath ghosting across your cheek, his eyes searching yours. "And now you get to decide what you wish. Who am I to deny you a choice?"

"What happens should I turn to leave?" You wondered.

"A guard would take you home. And with fair treatment, I'd make certain."

"What happens should I stay?"

"A servant would take you upstairs. And your imagination could fill in the rest."

Well, this certainly wasn't how you expected your day to turn out. That painting of all the sheep and the sunset would have to wait another long day. You suddenly couldn't dream of plans outside of those featuring Rome's half reigning emperor.

With a nod toward the door you'd seen Geta's servants go through, he grinned.

With footsteps more certain of the direction of his room, you found yourself locked in there, waiting.

///

The next weeks were filled with plans you couldn't tell anyone without fear they'd think you'd gone mad. You spent days milling about the stalls to sell your landscape paintings, careful of the payments you accepted. You'd harvest the fruits from your garden for meals and wait until night fall, when your promised escort arrived.

Nights were spent in Geta's room, on his floor, against his wall, in that blessed chaise. Nights were spent shoving the emperors head into the pillows as your hips rocked together. Nights were spent demanding he speed up and slow down at your desire. Nights were spent with Geta sharing wine in between drawn-out romps. You'd drink and laugh and carry on, a couple times until the sun peaked dimly into a new day. You'd stay drinking, sharing stories about where you had come from and your hardships. Things you'd hardly spoken of before. Things you couldn't believe Geta would listen so intently to.

It started off as only a few times throughout any given week. But at the end of those nights Geta would always ask about the next. You'd offer up a day or a time and he'd promise you that he'd see to it happening. He would pour you more wine and tell you the dirtiest jokes, and ask what pleased you most before those nights ended.

But after a while, he stopped asking. And your escort showed up outside your door more nights than most. And it became a rather expected part of the schedule of either of your days.

This night as you padded across the purple carpet, following behind a servant you'd come to trust; a ruckus was sounding from the stairwell you headed toward.

There you found Geta and his brother spitting fowl words in one another's direction. The men were swarmed by guards, ready to take on any outcome of the boys spat. And while they argued about political things you weren't privy to the full details of, you understood they spoke their father's name. You heard Caracalla remind Geta that their father had decidedly upped Rome's soldiers pay to ensure their loyalties to the empire. You heard Geta shout something about how his father was dead, how the brothers needed to learn to ensure loyalties in their own manner. And then he noticed you had arrived.

"Thank God." Geta seethed, waving his brother off, taking the stairs two at a time to lower himself to greet you.

"For you, Geta, trust is easily earned, isn't it?" Caracalla shouted, still domineering about the stairs. "A bat of your lashed eyes toward any common whore and they come flooding through our halls." Caracalla cast a snarl in your direction that turned Geta's blood so hot you swore you could feel the smoke coming off him. With a decidedly quick hand, you rested your fingers to grip Geta's arm, stopping him from running up the staircase to rip his brother in two. You didn't care so much what Caracalla thought of you, so long as Geta's opinion remained unchanged.

"But my powers of persuasion are not so charming. And I must demand trust more harshly. And I must remain harsh to keep control. And I do control the half of this empire entrusted in my name!" Caracalla was seething, fists balled at his sides, eyes bulging with rage. You'd never known anyone to be fueled by such negativity. Geta had slowly started toward his brother, letting your grip remain on his arm.

"We'll reach an agreement. But not till morning. Go back to your side of the estate, now." Geta demanded, taking the staircase slowly, keeping his eyes on his brother. The younger one stood shaking with fury as the elder led you to his room. Guards and servants followed, wordlessly seeing the pair of you behind closed doors. A couple of soldiers usually waited on either end of this hall, but tonight a few more lingered near in addition. These boys really hated each other.

Once locked in his room, safe from rage and question, Geta had you pinned against the wall. He'd usually greet you. He'd usually ask about what paintings you'd sold that day, or if you'd had any great stories of your family before they sold you to a husband. Or of your husband before he died. But tonight, Geta was ravenous. Tonight, he moved more accordingly to the rumors you'd once heard about him.

The emperor didn't fuss with your clothes. He didn't give you time to unravel his either. No sooner than his hand had crept up the skirt of your dress, was he rocking his hips into yours, pounding your back against the wall.

Your nails clawed at the back of his neck and your legs curled to flex around his waist. Geta was relentless as his body hammered into yours. He huffed harder with each new pulse and let out some cursed sighs when your teeth pierced into his shoulder, to keep from screeching all the same. You knew the guards could hear from the hall. But they didn't need to hear more than they had too.

His efforts had ended, his face stayed buried in your neck. But you weren't ready for it to cease.

"You think you're finished? You're only just getting started." You barked, pawing at Geta's head and forearm, shoving him downward. He didn't hesitate, his knees cracked to the floor with force you knew had to hurt. But he didn't seem phased. Geta seemed entirely entranced on bending your knee over his shoulder. Scratching his fingers along your skin. Burying his head between your legs. And he did so consciously, like a duty being fulfilled. He was relentless tonight, and you felt lucky to be relented against.

When your pleasure had ended, and you were left to slide from the wall to find footing, you found the wine too.

"Well, I can't help solve Rome's problems," You began, pouring you each a drink. "But I hope I've just helped solve some of your own, your highness." You half mocked, but half spoke in well-meaning regard. Geta hummed somewhere behind you. His voice sounded nearby. But his hands fell to close the space between you, gripping at the hilt of your hips.

"Dunno, might need to try a couple more times." You could hear the smile in his tone, and you felt his sultry chuckle against your neck, where he nearly dared to place a kiss, but didn't. Geta only reached ahead for his chalice, and asked about your day.

///

You didn't need to sell paintings. You could've lived a basic enough life, fed from the food you grew in your garden, rested from the comfort of your own bed. Secure enough in your late spouses left over finances.

You had known married life for all of five years. Wed before you'd even turned old enough to know better. All because your parents thought it best. They said you'd been sold to a husband to take care of you, in the long run. He did care for you, in his own twisted way. He kept you fed and housed until he died. And he left all his meager earnings to you in his passing. It wasn't much, but it was enough for you, for now, for a while.

You started painting when you moved in with him, to fill the days that dragged on so endlessly. You dreamed of freedom from the man for so long. And kept painting when he died, to fill those same days that were just as endless and a lot quieter to boot. He'd left you all alone in the expanses of the great wide world, yet freedom seemed even more unobtainable to you then, somehow. So, you painted. And decidedly started selling those paintings when the house filled up without room for any more of them. You kept selling them when you realized how eagerly peers bought from you.

You'd made friends down at the stalls. You found a quaint routine there, waiting in the sun to trade paintings for coins, and chattering with townspeople while the mornings stayed young. Bakers and seamstresses and writers alike shared your routine, all becoming familiar faces you were pleased to see each day.

"Goodmorning, you!" A trio of girls your age came giggling your way. Girls you'd invited over a few times. Girls you were happy to see now.

"Listen, are you going to the games in three day's time? I'd like us all to twirl about the colosseum buzzed on vino, carefree!" The small brunette leaned across the table your art was displayed on.

"She just wants to go to wait on Geta, afterward. He always invites girls in after the games." The blonde rolled her eyes, leaning against the post of your stall as you chuckled in understanding, and out of sudden apprehension. You and Geta agreed to your trysts because he trusted how discreet you could be. When you refused to bend your will to give the names of the people you pawned his ring to, he admired that. You couldn't give yourself away, now.

"But haven't you heard?" The redhead leaned in, waving you all to listen closer. "Geta hasn't invited any of the girls that wait at the empire gates in, in weeks."

You'd often trailed in past that very line of girls in question, much to their growing displeasure. Luckily, none of them were from the side of the country you had resided. None of them could spread your name around in whispers, as they did not know it.

"I'm still eager to take my chances." The brunette joked, going on to beg you to come to the games at the colosseum.

"I don't know." Was the best answer you could give without disappointing your friends, or thinking up a messy lie on the spot.

///

Another night in Geta's room was unusually spent in his bed. You'd been used to being forced against a chest of drawers, his voice growling in your ear. Or yours demanding the emperor sit on the stool before the table of wine, and wait in agony like a good, obedient, merciful ruler.

But tonight, Geta had you moving slower in his sheets. He'd closed his eyes as your hips rocked atop his, nice and easy. And when he reached to flip you over, his core pierced languidly into yours. His hand brushed across your cheek and his eyes stayed steadily locked on yours.

"Are you feeling quite alright?" You couldn't help but worry, too overcome with the silence that fell about the room. Geta had been resting at your side, his finger tracing the same pattern against your stomach forever.

"What if you stayed, tonight?" The ruler asked, after a while.

"You didn't answer my question. You realized, still confused as to what mood you'd found Geta in tonight. You'd been often surprised by his wit and his resolution. But this wasn't a way you'd known the emperor before.

"You didn't answer mine either." He pointed, finger still dancing across the skin of your abdomen. You turned your head to find Geta's gaze. His head rested on a pillow at your side, his eyes rolling up to lock with yours. His dark brown stare was illuminating. His curls graced his head so delicately. His silence was so reticent this night. Maybe it was the fact neither of you had had any wine.

"I'll stay if you tell me what's going on in that head of yours." You shot a pointed look to the man at your side who let a lifeless smile flash across his lips as his eyes turned away from yours. Silence filled the room once more, but you got the sense that Geta was choosing his words a while.

"Nothing... none of this is how I thought it would be." Geta spoke. You kept your eyes cast across his amber lit room, fixating on the pattern of the wallpaper. What did he mean?

"What's this?" You quizzed. "Ruling an empire? Sleeping with me? Sobriety from wine for a night?" You tried to joke, desperate for some kind of clarity.

"None of it." Geta responded, his inflection implying everything you listed was weighing on his mind then. And that surprised you. He was always surprising you. Silence settled yet again, and stayed for a while. It was Geta who broke it, after so long. He sat up to meet your eye, searching your gaze before offering a nod. You nodded back, knowing that meant your promise to stay here had been sealed. He rose from the bed to dim the candles, and crashed back into it with a sigh.

When Geta rested his head of golden curls on your chest, in the dark and quiet of his room, you finally understood what he meant. This was all very different now, than it started. None of it had turned out in an expected way. But you felt at ease with it all. You hadn't shared a bed with anyone since your late husband, and those times simply did not count in your mind. You did not care for that man as you had come to care for the one laying against you now. And that dawned on you in fear. But then, a realization that it didn't matter. Not now. Now, you got to rest under the weight of the emperor, for one peaceful night.

///

The next morning was bright and felt early in your bones. And it wasn't long before it hit you, the games were meant to happen today. Geta's stirring at your side was a relished wonder, as his smile widened to see you upon waking. But it all came crashing down as servants and soldiers demanded quick work of getting up and ready for the day of events.

"It will be too hard to send you away now, with all the crowds starting to gather." Geta realized, peering from the window of his room to the public below. "I'll have some appropriate attire sent for you. You shall join us today." The emperor's smile was bitten back, but you saw it reached his eyes as his looked into yours.

Things were shifting with Geta. Night's were turning into days with him. Festivities were offered to be shared. You knew better than to ask. You knew better than to wonder why. You simply thanked him for his offer and waited for clothes to change into as the leader headed out of his room, yelling for a guard to hurry along and follow. You milled about Geta's room, admiring the wallpaper in the daylight. Admiring the stained glass of his window. You traced your finger along carved chests and bed posts. You dared to open a drawer, finding a collection of jewelry there, a familiar blue stoned ring at the front of the collection.

You snapped the drawer shut in a hurry when a knock came across the door.

"Hello." A familiar face entered. Julia, the Emperors mother, twirled in the room with a stack of garments. "These are mine from seasons past. I brought a few, just in case." The woman was dear, with soft curls that matched her sons, gold earrings that brightened her blue eyes. She smiled and introduced herself as if she needed too. For her, you bowed.

"Such a pretty thing, you are." Julia cooed, resting her clothes at the foot of the emperor's bed before turning to consider you. "I've seen you come and go. Quite the feat to boast over. Geta never struggled to make friends, not like Caracalla. But he has failed to keep so many of them."

Julia kept a studying gaze on you as you thanked her for her kindness and watched her saunter out the door. The woman told you to meet the family downstairs once you readied yourself. That's when a certain anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. What was this? What had you gotten yourself into? Worry plagued your mind as you squeezed into a bright blue and plum skirt. The fabric hugged at your figure but fell so elegantly to the floor. You never dreamed of such finery adorning you. You'd never dreamed of a life so different from the one you'd been used to living.

Downstairs, everyone had gathered, gearing up to head out. Guards of every kind kept the ruling brothers on either side of the room while Julia flitted about, laughing with a man you didn't know. Senators and councilors seemed to mingle with the family just as well, their wives and children patiently lingering on the outskirts of the gathering.

When Julia found you descending the stairs her first greeting after a smile was to tell you how perfectly the dress fit, how powerful you seemed entering the room. She said you held a certain presence about you, keeping a watchful eye on your expression as you gushed to thank her for such continued kindness.

And then you were off, trailing with the wives and the children of the party as the royal family presented themselves before the public. They were loved and hated so that the cheers and boo's from the crowd muddled together in an indistinguishable roar. Your heart pounded to realize how close you were to the action of the day, to realize how viscerally the opinion of the public mattered to the fate of the royals.

You watched Caracalla pull some face, pointing a finger at a citizen who cursed his name on the families walk toward the colosseum. You watched women line themselves along the path Geta walked, his politics be damned. You watched as he turned to look back, smile stretching wider as his eyes found yours. You watched then, as Julia stalled to join your side, and failed to calm the quickening of your heart as she held your arm to walk with you. None of this was how it used to be.

The woman leaned in, explaining exactly how today's games were meant to go. She yammered about the history of it all and pulled a few giggles from your throat as she threw in some personal deadly details about old games she'd bore witness too.

Once you'd all reached the colosseum, the brothers were ushered off to find their royal box, while Julia strategically placed you just outside of there. She frowned when she reminded you could not be allowed to join them further than here, but smiled when she hoped you'd enjoy the day's events. You watched her saunter off, stopping a guard and pointing in your direction before she disappeared in the box all the while. The guard locked his gaze with yours, offering a respectful nod as you considered your surroundings.

All kinds of vendors and stalls were open around every entrance of the arena. All kinds of people wandered about, sampling food and drink, playing cards at tables until the event's kicked off. You decidedly began to wander about, accepting free samples and smiling to people you'd seen in passing. You shielded your eyes from the sun and noticed that guard trailing nearby, keeping a steady eye on your every move.

When the crowds began to clamor toward the inside of the arena, you realized the games were about to begin. You downed a free sample of wine and found your way to watch from afar. Caracalla and Geta were announced in, and greeted with that same muddled roar of praise and disregard. You watched as Geta ate up the attention. You watched as Caracalla fought against it, spitting and arguing with some poor guard in the box. There was something so volatile in the air, as if one wrong move from either of the emperors would unleash havoc. The public was only one excitable realization away from realizing their joined forces could rip the royals from limb to limb. Geta was quick to shift focus to the games, demanding the publics energy be reserved for the battles that were begun, turning the spotlight away from himself. It was a tactical move, but you worried if he and his brother did not change the course of their political actions soon, no amount of pantomime could save them.

Another few swallows of wine helped ease your nerves, all the while. You'd forgotten how on edge the public had only just seemed. You'd been entranced by Geta's presence even from so many miles away. His distraction's had worked wonders on the crowd, his excitable reactions to the winners and losers kept the arena entertained for the better, for now. He kept you entertained all the while. When he would tear his gaze from the games every once and a while, you liked to imagine he was looking for wherever you might've been.

When you wandered off to find more wine, the guard that had been following you stayed back, glued to the battle that was happening. You returned with two cups, to share. The guard tried to deny your kindness but caved with a smile at your insistence to have at least one drink. It was a day of festivities after all.

"We thought you weren't going to make it!" A voice familiar echoed over your ear. Turning from the view of the battle, you found your friends. You chuckled as you greeted the small brunette, buzzed enough off wine to shrug your nerves away. You couldn't exactly explain how you ended up here, to them. Or how you'd come to dress so finely. But they didn't pester you too much about it, drunk all the same. The girls swarmed you with giggles and hello's and how are you's.

"Change your mind, have you?" The blonde teased, raising her brow at you. But your mind was too slow to understand why.

"This is the gate the royals always leave from. Isn't it obvious?" The small brunette pointed, waving her hand to gesture around. When you glanced up, you noticed a particularly increasing population of young women that had begun to collect around the area. Geta always famously exited from this path, and always famously collected a girl or two to follow him back to the royal hall.

"Oh, no, I just sort of-" You stumbled over words, "ended up on this side." How were you to explain this all away? "I actually... should be going now that it's nearing an end. Get home before sun set." This reason sounded good enough in your head to speak aloud, as you began to walk backward, waving to your friends all the while. You spun on your heels, anxious to get away, making up your mind to head home should that be your only sound escape. But you'd barely walked a dozen paces before that guard was gliding close and halting your leave.

"You're not to go. I'm to see you united with her highness when she passes through that exit."

"Is- is that what she ordered?" You asked meekly, looking up to the roman soldier who loomed over you with his bulky build, yet kind eyes. The man did not speak, but lifted a hand to spin you around by the shoulder, placing a gentle palm there to guide you back where you came from. You saw your friends notice, perplexed gaze's settled on your march as you stepped closer to where they'd stayed waiting.

Caracalla was the first one to storm through the arched entrance, scowling at you on his storm toward his chariot. But then, a spectator, too drunk for his own good, began to slur insults to the emperor. The fellow had barely began cursing Caracalla's name, before the ruler stepped close to grab the man by his throat, strong enough to lift him to the tips of his dirty toes. The citizen struggled to breathe, squirming for relief. Caracalla shouted in the man's face, something about knowing better. The ruler let go, the citizen dropped to the floor in a rattled gasp. When Caracalla demanded the guards that followed him, to slaughter the citizen still choking for breath on the ground, you'd had enough.

"Do not do that. Have you such little mercy?" It wasn't to be helped, the way your body and mind worked together to force out a shout. You should have been more afraid of the way Caracalla turned to fix his fiery gaze on you. But rage at the senseless violence was all you could feel. Yet, the guards were already slashing their swords at the belly of the the citizen, so he might suffer still before passing.

Caracalla stood considering you, longer than you expected. The crowds fell silent, the only noises were the hoarse cries from the dying man. And your heart hammering in place.

Caracalla moved his look from you, to the guard steady at your side, and back to you. His head shook, and a scoff left his throat. He turned to leave, kicking the man he'd murdered on his exit. Your body shook with panic. Your stomach churned at the realization that you'd escaped yet another royal execution.

The crowds parted to let Caracalla pass, steering clear of the angry little man. Your friends seemed to think of walking closer to where the guard had stalled you to wait. But their confounded and horrified expressions morphed into something more wonder filled, as their collective eye unfocused from your position.

You were too busy assessing your friend's questioning gazes to see he'd appeared. But instead, you heard Geta's voice in your ear.

"I'd say you're lucky he spared you. But I think there are more powerful forces than luck working on your side." You heard him say. Your friend's gazes had no doubt been locked on the emperor, but soon fell more perplexed onto you, yet again. And then you realized everyone's eyes had shifted to you. The entire crowd that had watched you speak against the vindictive leader just ahead. The same crow that had pushed closer to wait for a scrap of attention from the man that spoke to only you, now, was casting a collective stupefied glare right at you.

"I'd like to take you away now, but I'll have you wait on my mother. She hasn't stopped bringing up your name since this day has begun." Geta stayed speaking lowly, and you nodded to assure you understood, keeping your nervous gaze cast on the crowd that had fixated their attentions on you. "Do not worry though, tonight we can debrief in more ways than one."

You had to turn and grin at him then, pleased to see he'd waited to share a smirk with you. He was off no sooner though, parting through the crowd with little acknowledgement their way. Your friends kept their slack jawed gazes set on you as you wondered for a beat about saying something to them. But then Julia was sweeping you away, resting her clutch at the bend of your arm like she'd done before.

They watched you leave, just as everyone had. You shot your friends a quick shrug and an expression you hoped they'd understand meant you'd catch them all up later, if ever you could dream up a good enough fib.

Unlike your journey here, Julia asked all about you on your trek back. You gave thoughtful answers, not daring to spare the truth of your meager life to the woman, but hoping the way you spoke of it would endear you to her somehow. It wasn't like you needed to be adored by Julia. But you did long to be respected in some basic human way, by the royal woman.

///

That evening went on strangely. Caracalla locked himself away in the furthest parts of the halls. No one dared speak about him in his absence. No one had dared to allude to his fury or righteousness at all. Instead, the tone of the evening was rather merry. You shared a meal with a mile long table of strangers, glad all the while to have been welcomed in the celebrations of the day. You gabbed with socialites and senators alike, until one by one they headed for home and bed. Try as you might to take your leave, Julia would not let you. She only kept dragging you from guest to guest to introduce. Until you were the last one standing. Until even Julia had made her exit from the room, Geta too. Leaving you to wait in the parlor until further command.

A pair of guards stood unmoving near the doors, as you sat at the head of the dirty table. There were plates and glasses and saucers left awry, covered in crumbs for the kitchen maids to come and handle. There was a steady crackling fire on the opposite end of the room. There was wallpaper that didn't put your senses at ease the way the kind in Geta's room often had.

When the sound of the door opening stirred you from blank thoughts, you shifted to stand. Julia was easing into the room, smile and curls soft as ever. Eye's full of a certain kind of knowing. Behind her, Geta followed. His mother spoke your name, as if to grab your attention, as if she didn't already have it.

"You're not to return home." The woman began, gliding to stall before you. Geta shouldered past her, moving to stand at your side and watching as his mother spoke. "I've noticed you come and go, as I mentioned." Julia went on. "And I've noticed how my son has been less fraught, during the time you've been around. I've heard you speak, and I've seen you command a presence in any room you enter."

"What are you on about? What is this?" Geta demanded, that brooding gaze of his beginning to darken as understanding evaded him.

"As good as she has been for you, son, I'm certain she'll benefit our empire just as well." Julia glanced to Geta before her gaze settled unmovably on yours. Your chest filled with the weight of a realization. Your mind buzzed with wonders of her implications. "You will marry in two days time. Enough to spread the news across the public, and plan something grand."

"Marry?" You breathed, feeling your heart hammer in your stomach.

"You actually don't-" Geta began.

"I actually am watching this empire teeter on the edge of collapse." Julia interrupted Geta, causing his jaw to clench and his brow to darken further than before. "If we do not start moving more intentionally in the direction of change, you and your brother will ruin everything. If you marry this girl, you will marry someone from the very public you've been so often accused of dismissing. This girl is clearly capable of not only earning our family greater public favor. But she would be your bride, and you two together would have a better chance of making sense of this empire than your brother. Caracalla cannot be allowed to overpower your rule, Geta. Do you realize how close that idea is to becoming our reality?" Julia was insistent. "You do not have a choice. This has to happen. For all our fates." She was looking right at you again.

You were shaken, stunned, totally unprepared. Just days ago you were living such a carefree reality, all you knew were paints and pleasure by way of the emperor's hands. But now all of a sudden, all of Rome's fate depended on if you stayed standing here or made a break to sprint for the door.

"Get out." Geta pointed, coldly dismissing his mother. She began to argue back, pleading his name to listen. "Get out! I command it!" Geta was fuming, rage becoming his entire essence. You couldn't help but screw your eyes shut at the boom of his voice. You heard a guard approach to see the royal mother out of the door. She went without a fight, but insisted Geta had no choice, insisting she was already making plans to assure this fate for the both of you. As one guard saw her out of the room, the other followed, leaving you and Geta alone in the room with the ugly wallpaper.

The fire stayed crackling in the corner. The table stayed dirty. Geta began to pace, like he did, hands on his hips, head shaking in an effort to make sense of things.

"You are quiet." He spoke up, softer than he had spoken all night.

"I am choiceless." You warbled. Hadn't this already happened to you? Hadn't you already been forced to wed a man for the betterment of some kind of future? You thought you'd already paid your dues. You thought freedom was supposed to be promised at some point. You thought you'd had it, just days ago. But even still you were captured by the powers that be. It wasn't like you were opposed to being Geta's bride. But you were rocked to realize it didn't matter what you wanted, in this life. It was just going to keep happening to you, against you, despite you.

You watched as Geta sped up his pace, thinking. His eyes danced as if to keep up with an invisible coming together idea. And then his moving stalled. He rolled his shoulders and let his eyes rake up your figure, like they so often did. Geta's brown stare bore into yours, as if to search for an answer to a question not yet asked.

"You claim to have been born to die." Geta gestured, sauntering closer. "I claim to have been born to rule. But we have failed to consider what there could be to live for. I have reason to believe my answer to living lies within you." His speech was imploring. He meant it. He only ever spoke with authority, by that you weren't surprised. But by his meaning, by the tenderness in it, you were. "As ruler, I shall make the final decision regarding my mother's demands. But... I shall also wait here in silence as you choose your fate. I will command no guard after you should you flee. This time, this wedding, you'll be allowed to choose."

"Should I flee, will there be fines? Will I forever be in your debt somehow?"

"I shall see to it that you owe nothing to this empire if you leave it. But you must leave it entirely, you must go far from here. It's the only way I could make these guarantees."

"Should I stay..."

Geta loomed closer, until his breath fanned across your face. So close you could see the golds speckled across the brown of his eyes. Close enough to kiss.

"I would see to your value." Geta breathed, stalling an inch before you. "Your profile on coins. Your voice heard above others. Your throne... My bed... I'd see to it."

Your heart hadn't stopped pounding since this conversation spun to life. But it beat harder yet, at Geta's tone and implication now.

"Take my hand." Geta held an open face palm before you. "Or turn away." You glanced to the door.

You considered all that lie beyond it, the quiet, the vastness. The race to the finish line of life would be slow and steady outside these doors. Your freedom would be quiet and lonely. Then you turned to Geta and saw a different kind of future to consider. And then a thought dawned on you. What if the freedom you'd always been in search of, was not just yours alone? What if an entire empires fate had always been pressed into the back of your heart, clear in the front of your mind only now that you understood everything Julia had said. You thought of your latest painting. The one with the sheep and the sunset. You wondered if maybe it was a sunrise all along.

Your hand flexed, knuckles deciding between clenching and raising up. Until suddenly your palm was in Getas. Until suddenly your fate, and all of Rome's, had been sealed.

///

Part 2 Coming Soon...

#joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #emperor geta #emperor geta fanfic #geta x reader #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn x reader #fem!reader #joe quinn smut #minors dni

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littlexdeaths · 5 months ago

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emperor geta x empress reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: established relationship, fingering, unprotected piv sex, period sex, blood play, light choking, geta (he’s a warning all his own)

this is really some very bloody period sex… if you aren’t comfortable with that, this isn’t the one for you. also shoutout to @strangerstilinski as always for helping me fix a few things 💕

blood.

it’s everywhere, covering his thighs and smearing onto the linen sheets.

you are straddling his lap, fingers curled in his fiery locks as he guides you along his thick shaft. his eyes are squeezed shut, mouth agape as his end draws near, so it is you that notices the mess first. a panicked whine leaves your lips, and you tug harshly onto his hair in an effort to stop this.

not wanting to be on the other side of his fury when he finally sees what you’ve done.

but only a deep groan rumbles in his chest at your actions, your emperor completely unaware of your current plight.

when you start to shove against his chest is when he finally catches on, his eyes snap open to witness your panicked state.

and then he sees it— the smears of crimson across the sheets.

his grip on your hips tightens immediately and he stops all movement of them. the emperor keeps you seated, with his cock nestled at your deepest point. the emotions that flit over geta’s features are hard to read, but there’s a fire engulfing his eyes. one you’ve only seen when he’s witnessed a man taking the life of another.

but the sudden tightening of his jaw convinces you that he’s angry.

so you quickly scramble off of his lap, pulling the bloodied sheets over your body as a feeling of shame courses through you.

“my lord, i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for—”

he grabs onto your ankle before you reach the end of the bed, and drags you back to him. the male then flips you over onto your back and hovers over your trembling, naked form. he says nothing as his hand dips between the soft skin of your thighs, gathering a mixture of your blood and slick on his fingers.

he holds them up toward the sunlight streaming through the curtains, admiring the dark, sticky substance that coats his pale skin. any feelings of shame soon dissolve into arousal as you grab onto his wrist and carefully guide his fingers back between your thighs.

his dark eyes flick between his blood-stained fingers and your face, a devilish grin overtaking his features as he watches those final traces of anxiety melt away from your expression.

“i’m not even close to being finished with you,” he grunts, greedily gathering more of the mixture on his fingers before they dip inside your dripping cunt. he pumps them inside you urgently, determined to make as much of a mess as possible.

the mewls that fall from your lips only grow louder when he reaches up to wrap his other bloody hand around the base of your throat.

and he eagerly trails his fingers over your bare skin, smearing more blood in his wake. and he doesn’t stop until you’re both covered in it, only then does he replace his dexterous fingers with his thick cock. thrusting back inside you like a rabid beast, aimed for the kill.

his dark gaze drops to where your bodies connect, each hard stroke covers the base of his cock in a creamy, pinky ring. an almost animalistic noise leaves his throat when your eyes meet, and the emperor pulls your body up towards him until your breasts are pressed against his hard chest. then his lips crash against your own, in a mess of tongue and teeth.

geta’s maniacal laughter fills your bed chambers, his ringed fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he bounces you harder onto his cock.

“only a mortal fool would fear a little bloodshed, my dove.”

#the freak writes 🫧#the freaks blurbs 🫧#emperor geta x fem reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x fem!reader #emperor geta fic #emperor geta x empress reader

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pascaloverx · 12 days ago

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STARVE

FANFIC: LUCIUS VERUS X READER X GENERAL ACACIUS

Author's Note: As a test to see if this fanfic might appeal to anyone other than myself, I decided to share a preview with you all. If you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment—I haven’t yet decided if I’ll continue writing it. The characters do not belong to me but rather to the Gladiator II universe created by Ridley Scott.

one

PREVIEW

Gladiators fighting for their lives in the most savage of manners. The savagery does not startle you; you are accustomed to it. Your late husband often had to fight, quite literally, with tooth and nail to survive. He perished as he fought, dreaming that one day you both might escape. Left alone, hollow within, you were spared by General Acacius.

General Marcus Acacius delivered you from the fate of becoming a courtesan to Emperors Geta and Caracalla. In an act of calculated benevolence, he claimed you as his concubine (concubinatus), securing your liberty through this arrangement. For this, you harbor a profound sense of gratitude each day of your life. From that moment forth, you and the General Acacius have maintained the appearance of a romantic entanglement. He graciously granted you leave to serve as an attendant to Ravi, the steward responsible for tending to the wounded gladiators.

"I have heard that you are Macrinus' new gladiator. It seems the battlefield has taken its toll on you," you remark, approaching the gladiator. Hanno—that is what you heard him called. His blue eyes fix upon you, studying you as though he seeks to unravel your very essence.

"I belong to no one," the gladiator replies, his voice strained as he winces in pain. "But I do appreciate your company. Ravi may be a skilled healer, yet nothing compares to the presence of a beautiful woman." His words are accompanied by a grimace, his arm bearing a wound, likely inflicted by the blade of a sword. Positioning yourself before him, you reach for one of the tools Ravi uses to stitch the torn flesh of gladiators. With steady hands, you then lift a cup of wine laced with opium, offering it to the gladiator to ease his suffering.

The gladiator drinks the wine greedily, allowing the liquid to trickle down his lips. "If my appearance pleases you, I suggest you focus on that," you remark coolly. "For what I am about to do will bring you little satisfaction." Without hesitation, you begin stitching his wound, prompting him to release several groans of pain.

"You seem to take pleasure in causing me pain," he mutters between groans, a chuckle escaping him despite the agony etched across his face.

"Do not misinterpret me so gravely. I take pride in being of service to the recovery of gladiators," you reply while continuing to stitch his wound. "I lost my husband to one of the games orchestrated by Emperors Geta and Caracalla. So rest assured, my dedication lies entirely in aiding you." As you work, his expressions shift, the pain visibly dulling—likely the effects of the wine and opium taking hold. Yet, his hand from the uninjured arm suddenly grips your leg firmly, near your thigh. The gesture appears unintentional. You glance at him, startled.

"Forgive me," he murmurs, withdrawing his hand swiftly, your silent gaze alone conveying your disapproval. "I believe I lost control of my actions for a moment." You offer no verbal response, but the unspoken understanding in your exchange pleases you.

"There are rumors circulating that you have come in search of something," you say, your gaze lingering on the ring adorning the gladiator's finger. "I wonder if what you seek is vengeance—or perhaps a love lost." He lifts his eyes to meet yours, as though carefully crafting the right response.

"Vengeance for a lost love," he finally admits, his voice laden with the fury of grief. "My wife perished under the command of the General." The intensity of his words is mirrored in his eyes, now burning with a hunger that seems insatiable.

A fleeting discomfort stirs within you as his words settle. You owe much to General Acacius; your life, your freedom, and perhaps even a part of your heart are tied to him. He has been nothing but an honorable man in your eyes, despite his marriage to Lucilla. A genuine affection for him lingers within you, though you respect the boundaries of his union.

"Since you do not know me, I feel compelled to warn you—should your vengeance be aimed at General Acacius, you will find no ally in me. I am among the many who will not stand idly by should harm come to him," you declare, finishing your care for his wound.

"Ah, and we have only just met, yet I seem to have displeased you already," the gladiator replies, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "But allow me to ask—if you had the chance to kill the one responsible for your husband's death, would you not take it?"

His gaze is unwavering, piercing into yours. You avert your eyes, exhaling slowly before stepping closer to him. "When my husband died, vengeance had no place in my heart," you say firmly. "I was consumed with fear—wondering which emperor I would be forced to lay with to survive, or whose entertainment I would become. Fortunately, General Acacius spared me from all those fates and ensured I was kept far from the gladiator who killed my husband." Your eyes meet his with an intensity that demands understanding, your voice steady and resolute. He listens in silence, his focus unbroken.

"Then you are indebted to General Acacius," the gladiator remarks, his tone probing as he holds your gaze. You step away, irritation rising within you, though you refuse to admit it aloud.

"You could say so—I am indebted to General Acacius. Does that make you angry with me?" you ask earnestly, taking a cloth soaked in wine and carefully pressing it against the gladiator's wounds.

"No, I do not feel anger toward you," he replies, his voice steady despite the sting of the alcohol against his skin.

"Gladiator, you are ready to fight once more. Should you suffer any wounds in the future and prefer Ravi's care, I will not take offense," you say, finishing your work.

He smiles softly, gradually regaining his composure. "My name is Hanno. You may call me that, and I would like to keep you as the one responsible for my care." Hanno says, taking your hands as if in gratitude.

"I am Y/N, since we are introducing ourselves," you reply. "And since we are being friendly, I will ask a favor of you. If you plan to seek revenge, do it properly. Confront General Acacius in a fair manner, that one of you may die an honorable death."

You hold Hanno's rough hands, hoping to appeal to his sense of reason. "I will take your words into consideration, but I cannot guarantee anything," Hanno responds, his gaze never leaving you.

"I recommend you rest before being taken to your cell. Surely, we will meet again soon," you say as you step away, gathering the healing supplies Ravi entrusted to you.

Hanno bids you farewell, settling down in a corner of the place where you had been tending to him. You leave him there, knowing he will soon be escorted to his cell. Meanwhile, you make your way to General Acacius, as he often summons you when he returns from his campaigns, and you follow him without hesitation.

"Mea domina, I have waited so long for you to come to me..." Marcus Acacius' voice fills the space around you. The setting is a private garden within his residence, shared with Lucilla.

You approach him, adjusting the stole around your body. He moves toward you slowly, holding a goblet of wine in his hands.

"I had to attend to the treatment of one of the gladiators," you speak softly, drawing nearer to him. He extends the goblet to you, and you drink from it. Then, he rises slightly and places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I have a wound as well; I would like you to tend to it," General Acacius says, his fingers brushing lightly against his lower lip. Gently, you rise toward him, pressing your lips to his in a kiss so soft it could scarcely be called one. It is delicate, restrained—you have no desire to overstep any boundaries.

"Our charade may now conclude, General Acacius. I believe any servant or guard lingering nearby has been sufficiently convinced by our display of affection," you say, fully aware that this romantic gesture is but a performance to solidify the illusion that you truly belong to him.

"Just a little longer, mea domina," he murmurs, placing his hands gently on your face and pulling you into another kiss. This time, it is more fervent, as though he is intent on committing the feel of your lips to memory.

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multific · 10 days ago

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The City of Rome at Your Feet

Emperor Geta x Reader

Warnings: hint of insanity (a lot), spoilers for the movie, blood, soft mention of smut

Summary: It was always about the pleasures of the body. But your soul was happiest just around him.

Two souls have never been more intervened.

It was almost frightening.

How can two people be meant for each other so much?

They weren’t much different. Both wicked in their own ways.

Geta being the loud Emperor, while you remained the quiet Empress.

Same temper, same goals and the same love for violence.

You just expressed yourself differently.

You being a lady, were elegant and enticing.

Your marriage was only a wish. A wish which came true.

You prayed to the Gods, hoping for a husband who is just like you.

And you met the Emperors.

Caracalla enjoyed your wit and even if you weren't blood related, called you sister. But Geta enjoyed you as a woman and ordered you to marry him.

You had no choice but to accept.

You never expected for your marriage to turn into such greatness.

It was a marriage filled with fire and blood.

A love filled with passion and power.

And each night, not only your bodies but your souls also melted into one.

You noticed as time kept going on, slowly, the lines between you and Geta slowly blurred.

When Acacius returned from yet another victory. You stood by your husband.

"Emperor Geta, Emperor Caracalla, Empress Y/N." he greeted you as you looked at him, his words failed to get to you after that.

All that you remember is heading back into the palace then Acacius' words finally reached your ears.

"My wife has many subjects. She has to feed them." Acacius said and you looked at him.

Caracalla spoke up before you could.

"And you suggest my sister is not doing a proper job of that?" your eyes snapped at Acacius, who looked at you with regret in his eyes.

"I hope your wife will be able to come and join us for the games tomorrow. I appreciate she is busy with her... subjects, but I don't see why she won't be able to join us."

Caracalla laughed and your eyes never moved from Marcus instead, you took a step closer to him.

"In case you forgot who you were talking to, Marcus." you finished and raised your cup. The man nodded.

---

You enjoyed Gladiator games as much as the next person.

Watching men fight for honour and freedom. It was truly magneficent.

Marcus and his wife were also present after Marcus' lovely speech, you felt a dark presence.

The row behind you were making plans.

But you were a step ahead. Watching Lucilla look at the new Gladiator, Hanno.

You tilted your head and smirked.

You will have some fun with those three.

Your husband squeezes your hand as you turned and smiled at him.

Later that evening, you sent word, asking a guard to report to you as soon as someone visits the new Gladiator.

And someone did.

Lucilla.

You smiled.

"My Love! So happy today?"

"Of course I am. I just found out something very interesting."

"Dare to share?" he grabbed your waist and pulled you close.

"Maybe later, once I have it all laid out."

"I would like to lay you out right now." he moved his head into your neck and started biting your neck.

---

Your husband was yelling, you looked at the traitors in front of you.

"Torture me, but do not lecture me." you smiled at Marcus' words.

"You two are truly stupid." you spoke up and everyone in the room looked at you. "You thought you could save him. Your beloved son. Lucius? Is that his name? You are truly foolish."

"What are you talking about?" asked Lucilla.

"He's dead. Killed him myself." you watched as both looked at you in disbelief.

Then a guard walked out with a head on a plate.

"The same fate Macrinus wished for my husband." You turned to the man sitting on the bench while Lucilla broke down and Marcus moved. "Silly man." with one movement you stepped out of the way as the guards brought him to the floor.

"I wonder how the people of Rome will think of their beloved General once they learn how he attached their Empress. In her sleep none the less. Snuck in and tried to kill her. Sent by his wife, who wished to rule."

"You-" but Marcus couldn't finish his sentence as he was dragged away along with his wife and Macrinus.

"Sister, you are something else truly!" Caracalla laughed and you grabbed a knife and a silver plate, looking at yourself, you cut along your neck. "Genius!" Caracalla continued.

"Why did you have to do that?" Geta rushed over to you, worried as he put his hand on your bleeding neck.

"Proof to the people of my attack. Oh, Geta I was so worried! He came out of nowhere! Hiding in the silk curtains, he told me Lucilla wanted to take my place! I was so scared." your eyes were shiny with tears as Geta shook his head and looked at you.

Caracalla left moments before, laughing still.

Geta watched you and he let out a long sigh. "How did you know?"

"Lucilla was so obvious I'm surprised not everyone noticed. As for Macrinus... I never liked him."

Geta let out a laugh, this is when the healer arrived to check out your neck and put bandages on it.

The next day, you watched Marcus fight and fail.

You managed to put on the show of a life time with your injury, the people of Rome had no reason not to believe you.

All they saw is a hurt poor woman, their Empress.

This not only earned you but also the Emperors sympathy as everyone chanted for Acacius' death.

You felt your husband move his arms around you, pulling you close.

Rome was yours.

Geta was yours and you were only his.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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hellfire--cult · 2 days ago

Text

Omega!Emperor Geta x Alpha!Barbarian!Fem!Reader

+18 omegaverse, fem!alpha, dark tropes, very slight dubcon that turns into con, gore, blood, animal death, slapping, tyrant Geta, scenting, knotting, biting, p in v, oral sex (m and f receiving), bondage, breeding kink, mentions of injuries, as well as very threatening dialogues, murder and allusions to murder.

wc: 14.5k

Plot: The Emperor hid his true designation since he presented thanks to a concoction he made out of the blood of Alphas, but what happens when one particular woman enters his colosseum, and he can't look away? He won't give up his throne. No mercy. There shouldn't be. So why isn't the omega inside him listening? Why did it have mercy on her?

A/N: This man is not an Alpha. No matter how people try to paint him as, he is a whimpery man, and I want to see him tear up. thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading and also Hailey for just saying 'm-preg' on a chat and my brain went brr.

Warning before reading: Alphas have penises, being male or female. Omegas have vaginas. This does not mean they identify as the other gender they were born in, or change it at all when they present. It's a secondary gender. Reader has a cock (testicles replacing the ovaries inside), Geta a pussy (with a cocklette instead of clit).

A reblog is better than leaving just one like.

MERCY

Mix. Mix. Mix. Smash together. Crunch it up. Mix some more. Pour. Drink.

It was automatic at this point. The scent of herbs, the stench of iron, the dead body in the corner of his room, the blood jar that contained the remaining blood of a past dead man. The golden bowl on his table with the concoction he created, a transparent red, with an oily texture, and particles of herbs floating all around.

The emperor dipped his index and middle finger in and then rubbed the liquid in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He made sure to smother it well, on both sides to be certain to cover it up very well. He proceeded to take more and lay it all over his wrists, leaving a red tint behind but he can cover it with his tunics. He grabbed the bowl and his nose scrunched as he raised it towards his face, the smell pungent, wooden, filled with ash as well. He opened his mouth and drank the rest of it, letting go down his throat. His stomach revolted as he put the bowl down with a slam, his breathing turning heavy as he groaned, his hand coming to cover his mouth.

No matter how many times he did this, it didn’t get any less disgusting. His bottom half cramped and he grunted, his hands slamming on the table as he held himself upright. His head turned to see the dead body that lay there, marching towards it and kicking the slashed stomach, his foot now stained with its blood.

His jaw clenched tightly as anger filled him, his body trying to betray him like it always does but he never lets it. He can’t let it. His eyes went to the face of the man’s body. He was cute, but he sadly knew too much. This stupid fucking Alpha knew too much.

Yet, he can’t help but also be thankful for him being nosy, because if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be able to get the blood he needs. To make that perfume that covers up his darkest secret, one his brother doesn’t remember, one that only his personal confidant doctor knows about, because if it were to get out, he would not be on the throne, and his brother is not in the best state of mind to rule by himself.

Because no Roman would bow to an Omega.

He heard a knock on the door and he closed his eyes as he turned around to grab his robe, putting it on as he headed towards the big golden framed doors, opening one to see his doctor, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and then followed by a sniff, angering the emperor.

“Yes, you cannot be smelled, Emperor Geta.” He knows it's part of his job to make sure it actually works, but he still gets enraged when his doctor has to sniff him because it reminds him of this vulnerability of his. This forsaken misery the gods have imposed on him as if it would have stopped him from being ruler of Rome.

“Get disposed of the body. Feed it to the dogs or to the people saying it’s rhinoceros meat, I don’t care.” His voice was cold as Caius walked in with a silver trolley, closing the door behind him. His simple robes were white, one shoulder exposed with a small golden badge to hold it on the side, signaling he was part of the royal personnel.

“As you wish, dominus noster.” His doctor walked towards the body to inspect it, making a small tsk noise, making Geta’s eyebrow twitch. “You were pretty light on this one. Just slashing his stomach, his neck… Surprised to not see guts on the floor.”

“It’s getting messier to clean up, and that has to be quick, so stop talking and get to it Caius!” His voice was loud, almost scratching an ear drum, and he managed to control his whine thanks to the liquid he had prepared finally sitting in his stomach. The blood of an Alpha on his scent glands and in his system, and it’s enough to cover his omegan stench.

He has been killing the barbarian Alphas for as long as he can remember, buying them off after a game, and people thought that the Emperor loved the atrocious act of making another Alpha submit to him, taking them to his bed, an Alpha on Alpha is what his people called it. Little did they know that it was to take their blood out of their succumbed bodies after he made a mess out of them.

He was very graphic at the beginning thanks to his anger, but as clean up took longer and his brother liked visiting him in his chamber, he had to do things a little quicker now. His dear brother who, thanks to his illness, forgot about what he truly is. His Beta brother forgot his sibling was an Omega and fully believed he was an Alpha thanks to the scent the concoction gave him. The Alpha from the day before had smelled him once he got inside the room and the Emperor quickly disposed of him, but fear struck him.

He put more blood in this time, harder to swallow but maybe it has more effect than the last few mixes he did because that Alpha could smell him, even if just a bit. A recipe brought by Caius the moment Geta had presented, his mother begging for mercy from the doctor and to not give away her prodigy’s child secret. Caius, indebted to Julia for saving him from the streets, accepted the task, and through many experiments and sacrifices, he came up with this ‘medicine’.

“I’ll extract his blood back in my office. You should get ready for the games of today. I heard there is a big surprise, a new gladiator coming to prove themselves.” Caius mentioned as he grabbed the cleaver from the bottom of the trolley where many blankets waited to be drenched in the man’s blood, for when the doctor would start chopping him up in pieces in order to carry him out.

“Not a drop wasted. You hear me?” Caius nodded, the Omega bowing his head to another who pretended to be an Alpha. For being an Omega, Caius was very calm and collected, not letting his pheromones show at all, or make it known by his actions or reactions. Geta envied him. He knows that if an Alpha came along who could spark his interest he would immediately fold for them, submit in ways he wouldn’t be able to control.

He would rather kill himself than show submission to an Alpha.

He was sitting on the stone throne next to his brother, upon the closed imperial box next to the podiums where the elite Romans cheered.

Caius sat behind him wearing new robes, the general Acacius behind Caracalla with his wife next to him. Geta’s attention went to Dondas, his brother’s pet, or best friend, or he doesn’t know if he considers her a sibling at this point. The monkey was making happy noises as Caracalla fed it small treats, a giggle in his lips.

“I wonder what’s the surprise. I’ve been hearing we are going to be quite shocked, brother.” Caracalla says as he looks at Geta with a wicked smile on his face, yet excited. Geta reciprocates the gesture, his own crazed excitement building in his chest as he awaited to see how much blood might be spilled today. One of the things he liked the most was knowing that there were barbarian Omegas fighting below him sometimes, fighting for their lives, trying not to choke on their own blood after being stomped by elephants that were brought into the field.

He was a hidden omega ruler. He felt like he was a god, managing to make people worship him not knowing his true nature. His true intentions. The sick methods he has to go through in order to hide his true self. Yes, he should be considered a god among the Romans at this point.

The announcer makes the soldiers behind him blow their horns as he steps out in the announcing box, the people cheering as he raises his hands with a smile on his face. The emperors clap with grins, getting more comfortable in their thrones as they wait for the announcement.

“Welcome! Today we have a very special surprise waiting for all of you!” The crowd cheers as Geta hears Caracalla clapping excitedly, cheering loudly, making him chuckle at seeing his adrenaline. “I hear you. This is no ordinary surprise. We caught a barbarian back on the island of Corsica. One who fought with every fiber of their being, and you would be surprised, but that barbarian is the one who caused the scar on General Acacius' face!”

Geta’s eyes widened as he laughed, looking back to look at his general, who was closing his eyes in pity. The emperor didn’t understand the gesture, but the excitement didn’t lower at all in its levels. He felt his blood running hot in anticipation, the smell of excited Alphas around the podiums while there were cowering Omegas at the top balconies, the bottom of the social chain.

“He got you good, didn’t he!?” Geta snickered as Acacius looked at him, an unreadable expression lingered, and the emperor turned his head again to keep listening as he played with the rings on his right hand.

“Fighting against lions who have been starved for over two days, here are the gladiators of this day!” The crowd cheers once again as the gates slowly open for the men to come out, having very dull swords as weapons and wooden shields but then the crowd gasps and remains silent as the last one comes out, the announcer wearing a smile on his face as the imperial box sits in shock, except for the wounded General.

“What in the heavens…” Caius exclaims in shock as Geta looks wide eyed at the field below him.

“And here I give you… The first ever barbarian woman to make it to the games!”

Your walk was confident, your face clenched as you came to stand next to the other gladiators. Your sword in hand, the shield on the other, no different than the men that stood on the same patch of dirt as you did. And then, gasps, screams, yelps and whines coming from the crowd. Caracalla pinched his nose tightly as he gasped, Caius falling on his chair as he choked on his spit and then there was Geta.

Who was wide eyed in shock, his body trembling as there in the field stood a Female Alpha.

They were rare, very rare. The only Alpha woman he ever met was his aunt, who was stupidly judged, and exiled from the city. But that was not the only thing that made his breath cut short. It was the fact that he felt his body shake aggressively, his skin starting to profusely sweat in seconds and his breathing became elaborate as he stood up from his throne.

He felt his throat closing up on him the more he got of you, your scent too potent even from this distance. What were you? Were you a prime Alpha? Those were rare, and for you to be one, a woman, it shouldn’t be, it couldn’t. He saw how you were staring at the crowd who was still silent as they looked upon you, the men next to you fidgeting in fear as you all waited for the game to start.

And suddenly, wind picked up softly, Geta felt his robes moving thanks to it, not paying any mind as he kept looking your way. The wind slowly got to you, and your nostrils flared up in an instant. Geta saw how your eyes widened, how you lowered your sword as you slowly turned your head until it finally landed on him. Your eyes clashed with his and for the first time in his life–

‘SUBMIT.’

He fell back on his throne as he clutched his chest, Caius immediately getting up to kneel next to the emperor, seeing how Geta was sweating all over, making the doctor anxious as he whispered to him.

“You are washing away the medicine. What is going on, our lord?” But the emperor could not speak as he breathed heavily, looking down at you as your eyes stood fixated on him. The smell got worse. It was as if the dirt was burning, as if there were wine being spilled all over him. He felt his body growing hotter and then, you took a step towards the imperial box.

And the horns blew off.

“Let the game begin!” And Geta wanted to yell to stop it. Yell to cancel this game but– what would his excuse be? His head turned to Caius who was still looking at him worriedly. Caracalla leaned over with a worried frown and teary eyes.

“Are you okay, brother?” Geta gulped and nodded, trying to dismiss it as something trivial.

“Y-Yes, it caught me off guard.” His brother gave a nod and then smiled back into the field. A loud cheer was let out from him as the gates for the lions started to be pulled up. Geta’s eyes snapped towards the gates as he saw the lions roar loudly, hungry for the people that were on the field, leaping out at quick speed.

His face contorted in worry as your eyes snapped to look towards the animals that were going to pounce on all of you. The first gladiator took a bite to the head as a lion lept towards him, while another one was able to cut a lion’s belly as he ducked when the beast jumped over him. The field became a bloodbath but the crowd’s eyes as well as the emperor’s never left your figure.

You were enraged, your movements aggressive as you stabbed, slashed, ducked, jumped over these beasts and no one was realizing you were doing this while getting closer to the imperial box. Every time you got closer, a lion came to attack you. You were covered in blood as the minutes went by, only three people remaining in the field out of the ten that got in, and two more lions.

One of the men got a bite out of his side and took the opportunity to stab the animal in the head, while the last lion attacked the man that was standing next to you, biting the middle of his stomach as he screamed in agony. You jumped on top of the lion’s back, the beast roaring loudly in distaste as you growled in a low and threatening demeanor, making the lion suddenly whimper. The crowd gasped as they witnessed how the lion slowly lost its struggle as you hissed loudly.

Geta could only stare as he trembled, the sound of your growl having sent electricity shocks all over his body, his hands gripping the armrests’ edge tightly, his knuckles turning white. Your eyes fixated on him again as the lion gave another roar, jerking upwards as it got out of the trance you put him in.

The emperor stood up as he leaned towards the balcony’s edge, worry showing in his features when the lion started thrashing around with you on top of him. You held tightly around his neck, your arms coming together to begin a chokehold on the beast, the alpha pheromones making the entire crowd almost kneel in their place, even the Alphas. He wonders if the Omegas at the top had to be escorted out by now.

Your right hand gripped your left elbow tightly as you used your entire strength to choke the animal that was now struggling more and more, throwing itself on the floor, rolling to try to get you off of it but you didn’t let it, even if your body fell to the sides, your arms never left its neck. You growled loudly as you bared your teeth, clamping onto the lion’s right ear and biting down fiercely. The animal roared in pain as you yanked and tore it all off, making it lose the air in its lungs thanks to the noise it had to make, slowly starting to wobble on its feet.

The crowd stood in silence as the lion finally tumbled to the ground leaving you panting on top of it. You slowly let go of your arms, unwrapping them from around the animal’s neck as you stood up again, grabbing the sword from the ripped-apart Omega the lion was eating before you jumped on top of it. Making sure it’s dead, you stabbed the animal’s head with it, and let the sword stay there as you finally looked up to see the imperial box, spitting the ear away.

Geta was gulping as he felt his thighs start to be covered in slick. He had to run away but his eyes were fixated on you, wanting to jump down from the balcony to rush to you, to kneel in front of you, to let himself be claimed once and for all. Why you? Why a woman? Why?

‘Submit. SUBMIT.’

The voice in his head was loud, knowing it was his omega side betraying him after all these years. The gate opened again to reveal soldiers coming out, ready for the emperor’s orders.

“MERCY! MERCY! MERCY!” He suddenly heard the crowd start cheering and he looked all over, at every single Alpha yelling for him to have mercy on this… woman. His eyes went back to you as you stared back at him, with blown out pupils, nose flaring and he knew you knew. He knew you could smell him despite it all. He knew you knew he was an Omega, and you were trying to make him submit to you.

He raised his trembling fist up, putting his thumb right in the middle. You have to die. You have to die right now. No one can know about him. You will destroy him because he knows you will tell everyone. He knows you will give his secret away. He has to kill you. He has to fucking let those soldiers rip you to shreds.

Caius was staring at the emperor as well as all the people that sat in the same box, waiting for his decision. The doctor knew something was going on. He never saw the emperor react this way, ever, and he could only guess it had to do with the Alpha barbarian standing in front of the imperial box with the blood of animals all over her as she breathed heavily while looking at Geta. Could it be?

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Submit. Submit. Submit.’

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

His hand trembled. His finger was shaking as it remained in the middle. He has to kill you. Your guts have to fill the floor below you, make you learn your place. He doesn’t care if you're an Alpha. He doesn’t care. You have to fucking die.

And his thumb went upwards as the crowd cheered.

He was pacing back and forth in Caius’ office as the doctor looked through a book.

“There has to be an explanation! You’re my doctor so you can save me and protect me if anything were to happen to me!” Geta’s voice was strained as he felt his body burning all over, the medicine the doctor had prepared not helping at all as slick kept sliding down his legs, not being able to stop it.

“I am looking, but I cannot find anything. These are signs of heat.”

“But your suppressant things always help! They always help Caius!” He was borderline pathetically about to cry.

“Gods, I understand, trust me boy, I do! I don’t know why you got affected by that Alpha–”

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m planning on killing her tonight.” Caius' eyes widened, getting up from his chair so he could approach the emperor with shock on his face.

“She is now a known face around your loyal subjects. Even the Omegas cheered for her today. You will not be liked if you decide to kill her–”

“She knows.” That made the doctor stand frozen. How could you? You were so far away from them. You weren’t a prime alpha. He noticed it because he did not get afflicted as much as the emperor did. Prime Alphas make all omegas in their radius fall to their knees, and the only one that was about to crumble was Geta.

“How…?” The emperor shook his head, not knowing how to answer for he did not know. He doesn’t know how you managed it. Even over his homemade scent blocker that no one ever was able to break through, and over the immense distance the two of you had between each other.

“I will kill her tonight. I already bought her and they’re bringing her to my chamber and cuffing her to the bed.” Caius could only reluctantly nod at the emperor’s orders, sighing.

“I will prepare the medical kit–”

“Alone.” Caius’ eyes widened, shaking his head furiously.

“No! You cannot be alone with an Alpha like that! We don’t know why you are weak to their scent and–” Geta pushed the doctor away from him, to then slap him right across the face. The emperor breathed heavily as Caius held his cheek in shock, looking back at the man before him. Anger filled the slapped Omega, giving Geta a slow bow. “As you wish.”

“I will call on you if I need help. So stay behind the doors.” He ordered his doctor and said man only bowed once more, making the emperor straighten up and fix his night robe, chest showing until his happy trail poked from the bottom of it. He took a deep breath in as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He walked out of Caius’ office, with the doctor following right behind him. They quickly moved to avoid guards from smelling the Emperor. They passed by Caracalla’s room, who was put to sleep by raw chamomile herbs Caius gave him so he wouldn’t wake up in any way in the night.

He stopped in his tracks when he was outside his own chambers. He could smell you. He could smell your potent Alpha stench, overpowering everything around you, and he felt his knees tremble underneath him. He shouldn’t go in. He should go in at least with Caius so he could help take care of you, but the thought of someone seeing you like that made him want to growl. His mouth trembled as he felt his heart about to implode in itself, the hammering of it against his chest almost painful.

“I will be out here, dominus.” Geta turned to look at him and gave him one single nod, handing him the key to the chains that held his door together.

“Open it once I tell you it is done, or if I need help. Got it?” The doctor gave the emperor an understanding nod, and proceeded to sit on the bench that was placed next to the entrance of his room. Geta took a deep breath in and stared at the handle of his door, his hand reaching to grab it, shaking as he felt the slick gushing out of him the more he smelled you.

He held the air in and pushed the door open. The scent was now stronger, way stronger than before, and it made him want to stumble back from the power of it. He closed the door behind him and he heard the chains moving, knowing Caius had locked them inside. His head turned to walk into the dimly lit room by the candles, his big bed right in the middle with golden bedposts and sheets draping from the edges of it.

You were lying there in the middle, hands cuffed with iron prison cuffs on his bed posts, arms spread as your back rested against the headboard. Your head was hung low and he heard how you took a sharp breath in before slowly lifting your gaze up at him. His legs almost gave up on him as your eyes settled on him, his neck sweating as he gulped loudly. Your face and body were cleaned, wearing just a hitched-up tunic over you, but–

His eyes widened when he saw the tent you had on your bottom half.

A dark chuckle was heard in the room, his eyes flying to meet yours once again. You looked feral, yet he couldn’t help to think you were the most beautiful alpha he had ever seen in his entire life. He licked his lips as he slowly approached the bed, just small steps, and your eyes traveled to his exposed chest and back to his face.

“Nice to meet you, lord.” Your voice was mockingly sweet, yet with sarcasm filled all over. He wanted to kiss your lips to see if he could taste your voice, but he had to keep a straight face and a stoic mind. He had one task tonight, and he had to complete it. He couldn't fail.

“Name.” You stared at him for a long while, your mind not moving, and his eyes were big in frustration, his teeth slowly baring. “NAME!”

You wanted to laugh because of the false Alpha tone he tried to use, but you humored him, telling him your name.

“Why did you buy me off?” Geta rounded the bed, standing far still as he cocked his head your way.

“Because I have to kill you.” At his words, you let out a loud cackle, your head hitting the headboard behind you. Geta’s eyes were wide and in shock as he saw how your laughter slowly lowered as seconds passed.

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

“Because I say so.” His response was short, but a smile was kept on your lips as your head tilted to look at him with an incredulous look in your face.

“Are you sure it is just for that reason… Omega?”

He choked on his own breath as he felt a punch, a cramp happening in his belly. It was painful, yet it caused more slick to gush down his legs, stumbling backwards from just a mere word you said to him. Something no one ever called him before, not even his own mother. Your eyes were piercing through him and he felt his body burning as he grabbed a sword from the weapon rack and marched towards you, pressing the tip of it on your throat.

“You know too much. I have to kill you, you dumb stupid Alpha!” You chuckled, feeling the tip of the pointy metal on your skin.

“How did you do it?” You asked and he huffed, shaking his head. You closed your eyes and he saw how you took a sniff out of the air, a smirk appearing on your lips. “Alpha blood. Ingenious.”

“Good job on finding that out you filth. And I don’t know if you’re dumb or a knothead like all Alphas are, but you do realize why I need to kill you now, don’t you?” He tried to make his voice sound authoritative, hating how it didn’t sound at all like yours even if you were a woman. Your voice was strong, made to obey. Your laughter made every joint of his become pliant, wanting to just get on the bed and on top of you, take what he wanted from you.

“No, you won’t.” Your laughter ceased, only glaring at him and he snarled, pressing the tip even harder against your skin, pricking it and letting blood flow out.

“An emperor does not give out empty threats you damned slug! Why do you believe I won’t, huh!? What makes you believe I will have any mercy for you right now?” And a confident smile spread on your lips and it made his belly cramp once again as his eyebrows twitched at your stance.

“Because you want me, Omega. You want me to taste you, take that purity away from you, knot you and breed you until your womb takes.” Your statements made his palms sweat, his body convulsing as the heat spread all over him, his eyes becoming glossed over as he stared at you, and his hand lost its strength, making the sword fall down and onto the floor.

Out of nowhere, you lifted your body off the headboard, ripping your hands away from the cuffs. His eyes were wide as he saw blood coming down your forearms, the skin around your wrists now teared thanks to the friction of getting your hands out of those constricting iron bracelets. He didn’t notice you had been slowly wiggling your way out of them and, how could he have been so naive?

You kneeled up, grabbing the back of his head, getting hold of his scalp and hair in a tight and painful grip that made him yelp. He tried breaking free, but his strength was not there. He huffed in pain as you threw him on the bed, making him bounce on it and the moment he did, he felt your scent ten times stronger. You have been sweating over his sheets, and– Fuck– Fuck, he could smell your precum. He could smell it.

“No–! Let go!” You growled at the Omega’s defiance when you straddled him over his hips, and for the first time in his life, Geta shut up. His eyes were wide as he looked at how your hands immediately grabbed onto the string of his robes and pulled. He gasped and was about to yell only for a choke to escape him when he felt you punch him right in the stomach, a wave of nausea washing over him.

“Don’t underestimate the strength of an Alpha in a semi-rut, Omega.” His robes opened, falling on his sides and your eyes raked over him as he held his stomach, coughing from the punch you gave him.

“Damn you…” You weren’t listening to him, and his eyes followed yours, and he realized you were looking at his loincloth, how drenched it was thanks to his slick, and he clenched around nothing at all as he smelled how aroused you were, a twitch happening on the tent over the skirt of your tunic.

“How threatening…” Your hand grabbed onto one of his wrists, his body trying to make him go limp for you, to submit, but he cannot let it, so his legs start kicking up, trying to get you off him, which only made you laugh as your grip around his wrist tightened, fingers digging into his flesh. “-- An Omega in heat is as strong as a thread of silk.”

Geta’s body was reddened, the burning of his blood becoming unbearable each second that passed. You were strong, very strong, or like you said, he was weak at this point. He let his instincts decide your fate, and he shouldn’t have trusted them. He shouldn’t have trusted his stupid instincts because they were clearly in your favor. He delivered a swat to your face with his free hand, which you dodged easily, an unamused look on your face as you stared him down. Your eyebrow twitched at how much he was moving around as you tried to put his wrist over his head.

“Stop moving or I'll cut your legs off.” Your voice was low, a tone that was never used on him before, something that made his insides turn in delight, in disgust, in excitement, in shame. His body fell limp beneath you as he tried to make it listen to him again, but his mind was clouded for a few seconds, tears filling his eyes from the sudden need. The sudden need of you.

You put his hands over his head, tying them together with the sling of his robe, and then tied the end of it to one of the cuffs you got yourself out from. Your eyes went towards your own wrists, seeing the open wounds, your raw flesh exposed as it stung slightly. You would have to take care of it later, and the emperor’s eyes followed your sight to see the wounds you provoked on yourself.

Your eyes widened when you heard a small whine. It was very small, and short, but it was enough for your ear to pick up the sound. Geta’s face was that of shock, not knowing where the sound had come from, nor why he did it against his own will.

“Aw… does someone care for their Alpha?” That made Geta’s anger arise despite the arousal and the slick gushing out of his cunt. A cunt he hid for so many years, putting items in his loincloth to make it pretend he had a bulge. A cunt that is now clenching over nothing as it begs to be touched for the first time, and not by just anyone. You. It wants you. He hissed, baring his teeth at you as he yanked on the binds you put on his wrists.

“You are not my Alpha! I have no Alpha! Never will!” That made your face twitch with distaste, your nose scrunching up slightly but then you let out a small chuckle, catching his attention.

“Oh, but I am. And you are my Omega, and if you think that I’m going to let you walk out of this room a virgin and unbred, you are greatly mistaken, my lord.”

‘Submit.’

“No– No–! CAIUS! CAIUS!!!” He started screaming as the voice in his mind became loud, and consistent, making his body grow weaker and the slick between his legs thicker. He yelled for his doctor, but he heard no chains being opened. He heard nothing, making his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. You looked over your shoulder and back down at him with a twisted smile.

“It seems someone ditched you, my emperor.”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

“No, no, no, no– I worked too hard– No!” He kept screaming his doctor’s name, and you just watched him, waiting for his vocal cords to fail on him, for him to grow tired. His arms were still fighting, his legs trying to kick you off still, and you pressed yourself harder onto his hips, right on his pained belly. His voice cut off, making him grunt as he threw his head back at the feeling of pressure on his cramps.

“You can’t fight it. You were mine the moment I stepped into that field, as well as I became yours.” Those words made him look at you, his eyes connecting with yours and a shock of electricity rushed through both of your bodies, a sweat of pleasure washing over as a moan came out of your lips and his. His legs stopped moving, falling limp on the bed as he breathed heavily, his hivemind slowly taking over, his rationality being thrown out a balcony in the lapse of minutes. Everything he worked for, all of his resolve, was rendered to nothing in these few moments he spent with you.

“I– I should kill you…” You shook your head at him, a grin on your lips.

“Let me show you why you shouldn’t.” Geta felt his skin as if acid had been thrown on it. It was burning him, painfully, but with pleasure. He had never experienced a proper heat because of how much he rejected his designation, and he is still wondering how did you of all people manage to trigger it.

He gasped when you leaned forward, pressing your lips on his chest, your tongue lolling out to lick some of his sweat away, a pleased moan residing in your throat. He whimpered, trying to hold the stupid and pathetic moan in, just by you licking him. You licked your lips before placing another kiss to his collarbone, then moving up to his neck, your nose grazing his mating gland for just a second, but it was enough for the emperor to flinch in fear, your head snapping to look at him.

“No– No, don’t–”

“No need to fear me… I won’t. But you will want it by the end of this.” He wanted to scoff and deny your words, but as soon as your mouth pressed against his pulse point, he was rendered speechless, choking on his spit as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. He could feel your lips, your tongue licking all over, your teeth nibbling on him, tasting every little piece of skin that you could. He suddenly felt you sucking on his flesh, making his eyes snap open, his body wiggling underneath you.

“No marks! Don’t you dare in the hells mark me!” At his defiance, you growled, your teeth clamping on the side of his throat, and he cried out of pain, fear, your teeth way too close to his mating gland. You were not going to listen to him, adamant to keep up the intention of making him yours. You pulled away from him, looking down at his face, your lips stained red because of the blood you drew from the bite.

“Don’t you dare order me.”

“I am the Emperor… I can command anyone to kill you in just a second! You should fear me, not defy me, much less–” His voice was cut short when your hand immediately wrapped around his throat, his arms yanking against the bindings you made, trying to set free as he choked on your hold, his legs kicking up behind you, but your strength– it was too great.

“Don’t threaten me, Omega. You are talking way too much for someone who is pinned on the bed with no way of protecting himself at all.” He whined underneath your hold, and then he winced when he felt a cramp punch him right in his bottom half. They were getting worse each second that passed and his mind was losing oxygen because of your hold. You immediately let go of him, and he choked for air as you stared down at him.

“You’re… You’re crazy.” He spat out with venom. He hated you. He hated you. He wanted to kill you. He wanted to rip your chest open to take your heart out. He wanted to dip his hand in the middle of your stomach to take your intestines out… He hated you. He hated that he wanted you. He hated the fact you were making his slick come out in quantities he never experienced before. He hated that he wanted you to take his purity away.

He hated that he wanted to submit his Omega to your Alpha.

“You’re one to talk, now shut the hell up.” Your mouth went back down to kiss his chest, making him groan as you kissed your way towards his left nipple. He gasped as your mouth enveloped it, your tongue flicking the nub over and over again until it perked up. He whimpered as his body trembled at each flick, not expecting it to feel this good. He had touched himself, but he was untouched by others. The concubines were a fake, a show he put on to make him more believable, to make his facade the more believable.

He wanted to protest but his mouth did not move because his body was succumbing to what you were making him feel for the very first time. Your mouth went to his right nipple to give him the same attention you gave the left one and his back arched slightly off the bed, making you chuckle underneath your breath. You were loving his reactions, and he knew you were because your excitement could be detected through your arousal. He knew his bed sheets would have to be burnt in the morning… if he survived until then.

Your lips started trailing down as your body moved, crawling backwards as you kissed his navel, making him jerk from the sensation, goosebumps being displayed all over his arms and chest. You licked around his belly button, and he whined at the strange feeling, not knowing he was sensitive in that area at all, but then his eyes widened when he felt your body wiggling itself in between his legs, trying to spread them apart but he did his best to keep them closed.

A warning growl came from you and his body acted against his will as his legs spread open for you to finally slot yourself in the middle, your fingers hooking on the edge of his cloth and he held his breath in. The only one who had ever touched him there for inspection had been Caius to check on his health and overall look of it. His body trembled in anticipation, nerves, fear, excitement, lust - he no longer knew, yet, you didn’t pull his cloth down, your lips pressing against his left inner thigh.

Were you trying to calm him down?

He felt the air becoming lighter, as if a weight had been taken off his chest, a weight he didn’t know was there at all. He could breathe more easily now, and he realized you had released soothing pheromones in the air for him. He didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You looked like you were going to take what you wanted no matter what he said, yet you also acted like he was the most delicate flower there was.

“Calm.” It was authoritative, but not like the other times. He felt like there was no threat behind the voice, but rather a warm blanket of a caring emotion. He wanted to laugh at that statement. You had punched him in the stomach for him to stop struggling, there is nothing caring about this. Yet–

He gasped when you licked the slick that was stuck on his inner thighs, and a pleasured growl vibrated throughout the whole room. You were tasting him. Someone was tasting him for the very first time and he didn’t think this day would ever come. He assumed he would have died a virgin for the sole purpose to rule until the end of his days. Rule. He has to rule. His mind snapped back into reality for a second, finding his voice once again.

“Y– You can’t–” He didn’t want to stop, his body didn’t want you to stop, but what about the rest? Everything he struggled with, everything he had to do to be where he is right now, all being thrown down into a pit of snakes because of you, because of your goddamn existence.

“I can, I will and you won’t be able to stop screaming for me, Omega.” He snarled at the name, not wanting to be called that, he wasn’t used to it, no matter how right his body told him it was, his mind could not fathom it. Your fingers hooked on the edges of his cloth once more and you started taking them off, making him gulp loudly as he felt the coldness of the room hit him right on his wet cunt, sending shivers all over his body.

You had your eyes closed, nose flaring aggressively as you took off this piece of fabric. He saw you throwing the loincloth away, and you finally opened your eyes, staring at the untouched cavity no one had the pleasure to be in or taste before. A place that was never to be seen by others, touched, or defiled. Your breathing grew elaborate as you smelled him. You smelled the slick dripping down towards the crack of his ass and down to his robe that you never got to take off.

His eyes looked down towards your tunics, the tent still up, and his head started to wander. What size could it be? Do female Alphas have the same size? Smaller? Thinner? His curiosity is there, he wants to know, but he knows he shouldn’t because the moment he sees your member he is probably going to submit completely and he is not ready for that. Not yet.

“You are pretty. The gods have really blessed you with it.” Your voice was anything but sarcastic or with venom. It was honest, and you almost sounded drunk. He wiggled slightly underneath you, feeling the embarrassment of being watched so intensely for the first time. Watched with another intent than just giving him a medical check-up.

“S-Stop. I didn’t ask for it. If it were for me I would have never chosen it!” His voice was loud, high pitched, and his hands yanked once more, feeling his arms growing tired from being in the air for a while now. You were still looking down at his center, completely out of it, high off of his scent. You slowly bent down, laying on your stomach as you positioned your face right in front of his entrance. He was wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to do in this situation.

He felt a cold air sharply brushing over his small cocklette. He looked down to see you blowing over him, sending shivers all over his body, and goosebumps on his legs and arms. You didn’t react to him, your mouth still agape as you stared at his core. You closed your eyes as you took a sharp intake of his smell, and then exhaled, opening your eyes again to lock them with his own. His breath hitched in his throat, wanting to fight back, wanting to push you off, but his body was betraying him. After all these years, his body is retaliating back.

He threw his head back when he felt your tongue sharply lick from the bottom of his slit, to the top, and then flick his cocklette in one movement. A gasp got stuck in his throat at the new sensation. What was that? He could have been feeling that all this while, and he was willing to never know about this for the sole purpose of keeping his throne?

Yes. Yes, he was.

“Stop–” He needed you to stop because if you didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from calling out to you. To call out for you.

“No. This is mine.” You said in a growl, surprising him with how possessive you sounded. How brutal that statement was, yet it wasn’t unpleasant to him even if he wanted to feel it was. Before he could answer, his back arched upwards, his mouth falling open as you started circling his cocklette with the tip of your tongue, to then take it into your mouth.

“Damn you–” He clenched his teeth together as he held in his sounds of pleasure, trying to focus on not enjoying it, focus on his throne, focus on rome. But it was hard to do when you were slurping him as if he were the ambrosia Demeter promised Demophon of Athens. And he was. To you he was even more than that, more delightful, as if you were tasting all constellations. You let go of his cocklette with a pop, drool already pooling at the corner of your mouth.

“You taste delightful… delicious… remarkable.” Your tongue lolled out to lick a strip all over his slicked up folds. His body trembled beneath you, your hands on his inner thighs to keep them separated, and for him to not have a surge of power and clamp them together over your head.

“Ngh–” He was holding back his moans, the more you licked, the more he sweat and the more scent he was exuding. He didn’t want to give in to the pleasure. He didn’t want to give in to you. He didn’t want to yet his body was reacting, and betraying him over and over again and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t stop this.

You kept licking, tasting, ravishing him with your tongue in ways he never thought he would experience. This was never supposed to happen in his entire life and yet, there you were, between his legs, eating his biggest secret. And he was loving it. His body was absolutely ecstatic of feeling like this for the first time in its life and his mind was slipping away each lick of yours, each sucking on his cocklette.

He gasped as his back arched off the bed when your tongue entered him. He didn’t know what to think of it, feeling you inside, feeling something inside for the first time in his life aside from his own fingers. He whimpered as he felt you swirling around inside of him, your moans vibrating against his core, and he could hear your slurping as he felt more slick coming out of him.

You were addicted, and he could smell how much you were enjoying him. He wanted to hate it, hate the fact you were enjoying yourself so much, but no… he was so happy. He wanted to chirp for the first time in his life, knowing you… an Alpha, was aroused by pleasuring him. That you were finding him delicious. That you wanted to make him climb into those mountains of pleasure no one ever took him before, and much less reach the very peak of them.

You pulled away with a gasp for air, and he lifted his head to look down at you, seeing how you licked all over your lips, still looking at his center with blacked out eyes. His legs trembled as his belly twirled around with need for more, a rope that was slowly becoming tighter with the intent of snapping apart.

“The gods were so good to you… making you this delicious, and only for me to taste.” Your voice was sultry and as if you were not entirely there. It was low, with the hint of a purr in the background of it and Geta’s skin grew goosebumps because again, he was delighted to hear an Alpha purr for him. Yet, a bit of his rational mind, or what he thought was rational, remained.

“I never asked for it–” His eyes widened when he felt your middle finger running along his slit, wetting it with his slick. He tensed up, clenching on nothing as nerves and fear overtook him for a second, yanking on his arms once again. He felt you kiss his right inner thigh and then a purring voice.

“I am going to take care of you… relax.” His omega does as told instantly, relaxing for you as he slumped back on the bed, not knowing how tense his entire body got. You hummed in approval, pushing your finger in, slowly, letting him engulf you at his pace. His mouth fell agape, his head falling back on the pillow underneath him. He felt you invaded him, a stranger, and he should hate it. He should hate it just like he always thought he would have and yet, he wants to moan out your name.

He wants to call out for you.

His belly cramped in pleasure, and he heard a chuckle coming from you, but he didn’t have the strength in him to retort at you, or to snap like he always does. You let him adjust around your finger for a second before pulling out and pushing back in again. The feeling was foreign coming from another person, and much more when it was an Alpha. It was as if the pleasure was heightened. As if he had an aphrodisiac injected into him, and he could only blame his heat for this.

You started thrusting your middle finger in and out of him, and his body flushed all over, heat engulfing him from head to toe, burning him as if he were inside an iron bull. His eyes closed as he fought to keep his mouth closed, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his noises in. You felt him slick your finger, making it so easy to slip in and out of him, so you decided to add your ring finger, slowly, pushing it next to your other one and the Emperor gasped, a strangled small moan escaping him for the first time in the night.

“What a good Omega. If it feels good, you have to let yourself enjoy it, pretty one.” He whined at your words, but still he wanted to listen to you as you started pumping your fingers in and out of him. Small little pants escaped him as his body moved slightly, up and down on the bed thanks to your thrusts. The rope started getting tighter and he wanted to curse the hells for making his body this way. It was all because of your designations, it’s just because of that reason only.

His walls started fluttering around you, and his legs trembled, letting you feel the reaction with your free hand which was still gripping his inner thigh, nails digging into the flesh. Your hips were rubbing against the mattress below you, trying to get friction and your growls of need started vibrating on every single wall of the room. Your cock had fully come out, and you needed to knot the Omega below you before your semi-rut makes you go insane.

You curled your fingers upwards at the same time you engulfed his cocklette into your mouth, sucking eagerly and feeling some of his slick coming out of the tip of it. He let out a cry of pleasure as he felt something weird. It was different and it felt too good. You were rubbing something deep within him that he had never felt in his entire life. Was this his heat? It was making his belly cramp as his orgasm got closer and closer, ready to unravel him in front of you.

You kept slurping on him as your fingers increased their pace in short and quick movement, abusing that soft spot inside of him that was making him tremble underneath you, trying to move around, not knowing what to do with his body. He knew his scent was a mix of emotions, but he didn’t know what to think of this. It was a pleasure he never felt in his life, and his moans were now unrestrained, making you purr against him.

“W– What is– Oh, I’m–” You hummed against him, urging him to finally let go on you, to let himself get washed away in a tsunami of pleasure. A pleasure you are giving him.

The constellations flashed over his eyes as his back arched off the bed, his wrists yanking against the restraints as his thighs wanted to clamp on anything because he felt he was on fire down there, clamping around your fingers like a vice. His belly burnt and tightened as his climax crushed through him and his mouth opened, ready to call out for you for who you were. But his own gush of slick cut him off, surprising him as his cries were heard around the room.

You took everything he gave you from his cocklette, gulping it all down as you slowed your fingers, helping him ride his orgasm out. He was having some spasms as you felt him unclench around you, slowly pulling your mouth and fingers away from him. He let his body fall slump on the bed, and you saw how his chest went up and down with heavy breaths. You looked down at his center, your tongue licking all the slick that was coming out from his orgasm.

“So delicious, damn you…” You mumbled into him as he twitched, little whimpers of overstimulation escaping him. He felt his sight slowly coming back to him, and he didn’t understand why but… he wasn’t satisfied. His belly started hurting again and he realized that he wasn’t going to ever be until he was knotted. He needed a knot… your knot.

Your ministrations were cut off when you heard a small sob coming from above you. You immediately pulled away from him, crawling up his body, both hands now resting on each side of his head as you looked down at him. He was whining, tears running down his eyes, his charcoal liner leaving dark streaks from the corner and towards his ears. Your hand reached over, slowly touching his cheek only for him to hiss and shove his head away from you.

“You… You are just going to take it…” You tilted your head at him, confused. Your arousal was interrupted with worry and he didn’t understand why you were acting this way when all you wanted was to break him.

“Take it…? Your vir–”

“My throne. You– You are going to take my throne…” His tears started rolling down once again as he shook his head. “You are going to reveal who I am, and it will be over for me, and–”

He gasped when he felt your lips on his forehead, a surge of calmness washing over him. He could smell your scent, a warm and kind fire. The scent of lemongrass all around him, something he didn’t smell on you before. You pulled away as you shook your head at him, his mind reeling with confusion.

“I don’t want your throne.”

“What? Don’t you dare jester me–”

“I just want you, Omega. We are destined.” At those words, Geta’s eyebrows pinched right in the middle, not understanding what you were saying at all.

“What are you saying?” You chuckled, a genuine smile on your lips, despite all that hard exterior you had shown him all night and at the games, making his body tremble slightly underneath you.

“We are scent mates. You were the only scent in my life to trigger a small rut and it seems I am the only one who could trigger a heat on you, despite any method you took to avoid them and suppress them.”

The Emperor was stunned at your words. Was there something like that in the world? He never heard of it before, and Caius didn’t either because he didn’t find anything on that subject. Scent mates… then, it means he cannot leave you. He cannot kill you. He cannot make you leave because he doesn’t want to. He can’t.

“Y– You… how… I don’t– I don’t want to give up my throne–”

“And you won’t. Make me your second general in command. I am a very respected Alpha back in my city, and I have an army of three thousand barbarians.” He blinked a few times up at you, his mind blank as it slowly started filling with warmth and with some clarity. His hivemind started to take control of him the more he heard you talk.

“You want… to give me your army?” You nodded at that, your hand reaching out to rub his cheek once again and this time he didn’t pull away, letting you rub against his skin, his eyes closing as his chest warmed up to the feeling.

“Protecting you is my number one priority. If you want to rule as an Alpha or an Omega, it’s your choice, but I will stand behind you, not in front of you, my Omega. I would never forsake you.”

And his body felt as if it were laying on clouds. It felt as if he was enveloped in warm comforters crafted by the olympus with gold linen all over the seams. Your eyes showed honesty, and he could smell that you were in fact being truthful to him. Why didn’t you start with that? Why didn’t you begin with those words so he could fully enjoy you? To let him fully succumb to this heat and the need to mate with you?

“Protect me… Alpha.” He saw your body tremble, a strangled moan choking you up as he saw your eyes turn deep black once again. “Untie me.”

You looked down at him for a few seconds, your breaths starting to become heavier as your mind started slipping away into a knothead rut. You managed to let a shaky breath out of your lips as your hands reached over to untie him, struggling a little thanks to the trembling of your fingers. His gaze was stuck on your face, his chest going up and down as he breathed heavily, feeling the string of his robe coming undone, his wrists burning from the friction, but he no longer cared.

His arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders, his face flushing with rosy cheeks as you looked down on him. He didn’t know what to do, but his instincts were telling him to try and lunge forward, do something, and gladly, you realized and took that initiative for him. Your lips clashed on his and he immediately whimpered in ecstasy, feeling a current of electricity running through his bones as your arms wrapped around him.

His hands started going down towards your neck, feeling how hot your skin was, basking on being able to finally touch you. Your lips moved desperately on eachother, sloppy, messy, filled with drool and tongue. It makes your length twitch underneath your tunics, making you groan. Your hips connected with his middle, and you both moaned into each other’s mouths as you started slowly swaying back and forth on him.

He could feel you. It was big from what he could guess, and his core slicked all over at the thought of getting knotted by you. Never in his life he thought he would hear those words in his head. His cocklette was being rubbed in the most delicious of ways, making him whimper and groan in your mouth. Your moans were sweet, deep, and in need, and he cannot believe his destined Alpha would be a woman. He never thought of the possibility of there ever being a destined person, or a scent mate in his life. He was never taught that or no one ever gave him a slight mention of it.

But it seems that’s because of royalty. You came from a city filled with legends, old tales, no one to rule over you. A community being a community. He doesn’t understand it.

You pulled away from him, kneeling up and undoing the string in the middle of your tunics. He was staring at you, rising up on his elbows to take a better look at you as you pulled the fabric up and away from you, revealing you had no underwear on yourself. That’s why he could feel you so harshly. His eyes widened when he saw you, all ready, throbbing, hard, large, and with precum coming out of your tip.

And his mouth salivated.

He whimpered as his eyes turned glossy, fully sitting up, his body acting on pure impulse and desire. He leaned forward, tongue lolling out, to tentatively lick the tip of your lenght. You choked on a growl, both hands coming to cover your mouth. He could sense the spike of arousal in you, and he could taste it on his tongue as more precum oozed out of you. He smirked, looking up at you while his hand engulfed your base.

“So pretty for me, Alpha.” And you were. You were beautiful. Your breasts, your perky nipples waiting for his mouth, for his touch. Your pupils completely engulfing the irises of your eyes. You were perfect. A perfect Alpha and just for him. He saw you shiver and he heard you whimper for the first time in the night, the roles reversing for a split second.

“Please…” You moaned out, and he looked back down at your throbbing shaft that bobbed for attention on his face. He didn’t know how to do this. He wasn’t skilled, he had no experience, but god, does he want to satisfy his Alpha with everything he has in him. He moved forward again as you stayed kneeled up, his hands coming to grip your backside as he kissed the tip of your length.

You couldn’t help the moan with his name on your lips as he kept giving kisses and tentative licks to it. His hands went upwards to hold onto your breasts, a moan escaping him as he felt your nipples on his palms. He fondled them, basking on them, worshipping the first pair of breasts he ever touched without any fabric or coverage on them. He often did it to his ‘concubines’ to keep appearances, but never touched them raw like he is now and he is loving it. His kisses traveled along the length, reaching your base and you shivered as you let your hands drop to your sides again as your head fell backwards.

You smelled so good to him, making more of his juices gush out of him, staining the robe beneath him and probably seeping through it and down to his sheets. Now he doesn’t want to burn them at all. He wants to keep them unwashed for days, or weeks, just so he can smell you every minute and hour of the day. He got your nipples in between his index fingers and thumbs, pinching and rolling them as he felt you jerk slightly on his grasp.

He finally opened his mouth to take the tip of your shaft into his mouth, the head of it feeling excellent on his tongue as he swirled it around. You whined as your hand went to the back of his head, running your fingers through his ginger hair as you basked on how good he looked doing this to you. Suddenly, he whined as a cramp kicked in his belly, making him pull away from you, his hands coming to rest on it.

Your arousal got interrupted as worry for your Omega took over, your free hand coming to hold his cheek so he could look up at you. He had a tear running down his face as his face reddened in need.

“I– I don’t know– Something is missing–”

“Your nest, my sun. Your nest is missing.” You instantly pulled away from him, a desperate whine escaping him as you stepped off from the bed to grab your tunic again, crawling towards him again, handing the garment to him. “Smell this.”

He did as instructed, his hands snatching your tunic away, his nose dipping into the filthy cloth only for your scent to fill his lungs. He moaned at it, his head whipping behind him to look at his pillows. He shrugged his robe off, moving in order to get it off from under him as well, and he placed it on one side of his pillow, while your tunic was put on the other side. His belly uncramped slightly, but it was hungry for more.

He kneeled up, turning around to see you again and he had to look down slightly to be able to meet your gaze. He was panting as his whimpers were coming out of his mouth, not being able to control them. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to him, your shaft in between the both of you, smearing your own seed on his body.

“Please… I–” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. He moaned into it, his palms flat all over your back, touching everywhere he could as you two kissed fervently.

‘Submit.’

He pulled away, laying back down on the bed, spreading his legs to reveal his wet center to you and his hand was raised for you to take it. You took it and he pulled you into him, falling in between his legs, your chest hitting his. Your lips found his jaw, kissing it gently and you could hear him whimper as his hips canted upwards onto your length, making you hiss.

“I will take care of you. I’ll make the pain go away, Omega.” And Geta purred, for the first time in his life. He had never purred, not even for his own mother or brother. He had denied his designation since the first minute, and he denied having any omega behaviour, even as small as a whine.

It felt good.

Your eyes widened at the sound, your shaft now slickened up thanks to rubbing it up and down his folds and against his cocklette. Your canines elongated as a deep growl in delight, assimilating a purr, vibrated in your throat. Your hips went backwards and your tip caught onto his entrance, making his breath hitch. His hands were on your waist, while yours were caging his head against the bed.

“I’m ready, my Alpha.” You shivered at the sound of that. My. Mine. Yes, it sounded right. You started pushing forward, slowly, torturous for you, but new to him. His eyes widened as he threw his head back onto the pillows, tilting his head to where your tunic was for your scent to fill his nostrils. He couldn’t find his voice as you kept splitting him open, feeling this new intrusion inside of him, a much bigger one.

“Relax, my sun. You need to relax for me…” He tried to let go of the air he was holding in, slowly, trying to get his breathing under control. Your lips connected to his neck, giving it soft pecks as he felt your hot breath on his skin. That made him relax, untense, his body falling deeper into his soft bed. The moment he unclenched on you, you kept going, breaching him open as his digits dug into your waist.

He felt himself shaking as he felt the extreme pleasure running all over his limbs, as well as the pain of the loss of his virginity. But you were being so careful with him, and he felt protected by you. A gift sent by the gods themselves. He didn’t know you were thinking the exact same thing, and now you didn’t feel any sadness towards your city. The invasion caused you to meet him, it caused you to finally reach him and be where you are now.

He choked on his spit when there was some strain as you were about to bottom out in him. It was painful, making him hiss at the pain, but his belly was screaming for you to break it. It needed you to break it. It was just one more little push, one more little thrust and his purity will be long gone. Your eyes locked with his, and he saw how fast your breathing was, how flushed you looked, how much you were holding yourself back with him, even in a semi-rut. He gave you one nod and–

“Damn–!” He cried out as you gave one strong thrust, finally getting through the restraint. You let out a breath, choking on it as you took another in, shaking as you did while looking down at where you two were connected, pelvis to pelvis. His eyes were closed as he tried to adjust to you, thinking it was going to be impossible but it was becoming so easy as he kept letting his strangled breaths out.

You couldn’t begin to explain what you were feeling. It was as if you solved the logical explanation of a long lost legend. As if you’ve won a war that would give you everything you’ve ever wanted. And for the Emperor, he felt like conquering something more than Rome, than all the cities around him. You were more than anything he ever put his power onto.

Your eyes met his, his right hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you down into a kiss that made you twitch inside of him, and he felt the first sweat of pleasure all over his body, making him moan into your mouth. He pulled away from you, keeping his nose against yours as he looked into your eyes.

“Move.” He commanded, the roles now reversed, and you didn’t mind it at all. Your hips went backwards, and he groaned as he looked down where you were connecting with him as you slowly pushed back in. His face contorted into a pleasured one in an instant as he felt you against his walls, making him look into your eyes again. Your jaw was clenched, setting a slow pace on him to accustom him to the feeling.

He started letting out soft breaths as the pleasure grew more intense the more you thrusted into him. It felt like he was slowly losing himself, his mind telling him things he never thought of before. Mating. Breeding. Him pregnant with your pups. His round belly as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered if your thoughts were going in the same direction as his.

“You feel so good, my Omega.” He flustered at that, his mouth opening to let out a moan as you quickened the pace, and his fingers dug into the back of your neck and your side. He started feeling his belly turn in delight, more slick than ever coming out of him and around you, smearing all of his sheets and your pelvis and thighs.

“More– More–” He couldn’t recognize his desperate voice, feeling a need like never before. You kneeled up with a groan, getting hold of his knees as his hands fell to his sides. He was confused as he panted only for his eyes to widen when you started moving rougher, your hips now snapping against his, and he heard the skin slapping, his core squelching thanks to how much slick he produced.

You were moaning, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, and his cries for you grew louder, calling out your name, a new prayer in his lips. He felt himself burning, his body just engulfed in flames as if Hell had sucked him in for punishment. He felt you going in and out of him, your hips angling at one point and–

He gasped as a whimper followed when he felt that sweet spot being hit by your tip once more. He didn’t care what it was anymore, just that it felt divine. His hands gripped the sheets below him as you kept that rough pace, sweat all over your body, nails digging into his knees as you kept his legs spread for you. He was crying out for you, looking at you through hooded lids, tears of pleasure running down the sides of his face as drool pooled on the corner of his mouth.

“So pretty, Omega. My Omega. My beautiful, powerful Omega.” Oh, he loved the sound of that, his core fluttering around your length, making your hips stutter slightly before continuing your pace with a growl. His belly needed more, but he didn’t know how to get it, or what that more was. He just needed it, making him whimper in the middle of his moans.

“Alpha– I don’t– I need more–!” You nodded, your right hand leaving his knee, moving in between the two of you to get hold of his cocklette. His back arched as he cried out when you started rubbing him, your hand squeezing lightly to cause friction as you kept slamming your hips against his. He felt his belly turning and turning, the threat of an orgasm approaching him as his nails dug into his mattress.

You moaned out his name, over and over again, feeling him clench and unclench around you. There was fire between the both of you, the air around you musky, filled with the scent of sin, of beautiful sin. He didn’t want this smell to leave his room now. Not ever. His body moved back and forth as your skin slapped over and over, feeling you deep within him, and he swore you were hitting his belly.

But you kept abusing that soft place in him, making his entire body tremble in anticipation as he felt himself being lifted into clouds the more you railed into him. His moans started coming out choked, his breaths were stuttering as he tried taking deep ones in. His body was red in color as you looked down on him, your hand moving faster on his cocklette, your mouth watering at the sight before you.

“Let go, my lord. Let go, Omega.” And that he did. His eyes clenched shut as his walls tightened all around you, making you stop your hips, a choke coming out of your lips. He couldn’t find his voice as he shook underneath you, his back arched, his neck all red as he couldn’t help throwing his head back. It was a strong orgasm, and it was so good doing it around your shaft. It felt too good. He finally cried out your name as his belly kept fluttering, the orgasm ongoing.

You were breathing heavily as his back touched the bed again, and you stopped the movement of your hips, trying to catch your breath as he finally unclenched around you. He was panting as he kept his eyes closed, trying to regain some consciousness as his mind kept reeling with you, some rationality seeping through that was making him think of the future.

He saw you choking on your breaths as your hands landed on his chest to hold yourself up, the hand that stroked your cocklette smeared with the small spurt of slick that came out of it. You hissed when you felt the burning starting to happen at the base of your length. You pulled your hips back and moved back in, your name coming out of his mouth as his hands went up to cradle your face.

He wanted it. He needed it. So he started begging.

“Please– Please–” He pleaded for you and you shivered on top of him as you moved your hips once again, setting a normal pace, because if you went rough you would not be able to control your hivemind, already feeling your canines wanting to elongate inside your mouth.

“I– I won’t knot you, my lord.”

His eyes widened, a loud whine escaping his throat, eyebrows meeting in the middle with pure sadness. What did you mean? Why not? Why?

“What–? What– no! I order you–!” His voice was strained as your hips stilled, just half of your length in, and he knew your knot was slowly inflating because he could feel a different thickness trying to enter him. He whined when he felt it and you were not pushing it in, not wanting to lock inside of him.

“I– If I knot you, I will mate you. I will bite you– I– I don’t want to make my Omega unhappy, and if ruling makes you happy– Biting you means you will live as an Omega.”

He now understood what you meant. You really wanted him to keep ruling, and for that he would have to give up the idea of ever mating you, knowing that at one point he would be pregnant with your pups. Everyone will know he is an Omega… the entirety of Rome will rise against him. Probably even kill him for the deception to the whole community… yet–

“Protect me. You told me you would protect me… I want to keep ruling with your bite on my neck.” His face was twisted as he grinned up at you, wickedness displayed in his features, ideas brewing in his head that the more he thought of, the more he enjoyed. You saw the shift in Geta’s gaze. He had come up with a plan.

“Are you sure?” Your gaze turned dark, thoughts of protecting your omega against everything and everyone, blood on your hands as you ripped open skulls, pushed eyes into their sockets… Yes, you enjoyed the mere idea of killing for the emperor. For your Omega.

“Mercy– I beg you– I want it–” He whined now, tears spilling from his eyes as his hips tried to move towards you, wanting you back inside of him. “Have mercy on me, Alpha.”

And suddenly, he saw that smirk of yours that he saw the first time. It was evil, filled with dark emotions that he himself has inside. You kneeled up again as you raised your hand towards him, your thumb in the middle. He watched expectantly, the heat in his body rising to extraordinary levels as the anticipation was killing him from inside out.

“If tyranny is what my Omega wants… Tyranny is what you are going to get.”

And you turned your thumb upwards.

The crowd was cheering loudly as the gladiators fought on the field below.

Caracalla was laughing, clapping as he looked back at General Acacius, but the man’s eyes were fixated on the person on his left, the one that was behind the other throne.

You were standing tall as one of your hands rested at the top of the throne while the other was being gripped by your Omega’s hand, over his right shoulder. Your attire had changed into a general’s. You were wearing golden gear, with a red cape hanging from your shoulders. Women never wore these attires, much less, women didn’t go to war, even those who were Alphas. You were the exception at the Emperor’s orders.

When you two mated two months ago, you had sworn you would protect Geta, at any cost. That he will rule, even if the people and the council found out he was an omega. But before that, you two had to pay some people a visit. The council.

The moment Geta walked in with you right behind him, all the men in the room winced in disgust, getting up from their seats as the emperor sat next to his brother who was shocked, his mouth agape as he smelled his sibling. You walked to stand next to him, your eyes filled with the intent of murder, with the thirst of blood, which made the men in the room sit back down, slowly, and against their will.

“I have deceived you all. As you can smell, I am not an Alpha. I never have been, but I plan to keep ruling as an omega… I have been for years now, you all didn’t notice. It doesn’t change anything.” At that, all the men in the room started yelling, Alphas and Betas pointing fingers at the emperor, and you wanted to growl loudly, warn them to not overstep, but Geta held your hand, noticing how angry you had gotten. The men fell silent as they saw the gesture, now looking at you.

“You have been mated.” One of them said, and Geta nodded with confidence. His brother smiled and clapped in excitement, making him look at Caracalla with surprise in his features.

“A mate! A mate! Everyone rejoice!” Geta smiled with teeth, feeling his belly turn with excitement, squeezing your hand in the process. Your chest puffed up with pride, a nod towards Caracalla in appreciation, even if you knew his dementia had gotten the best of him, he never stopped feeling happy for his brother.

“UNACCEPTABLE!” Your head and Geta’s turned to look at the man at the back, an Alpha, getting up from his seat as he walked to the middle of the room, facing the emperors and yourself. “Rome has never been ruled by an Omega and never will! Omegas are at the bottom of the class chart, and you are no exception! Demoted! BEHEADED! You must be demoted–”

Before he could finish his sentence, his head was falling to the floor. Everyone sat in silence as they shivered, some peed themselves in fear, and even Alphas were about to whimper as they looked at the sword that was dripping blood and then at the bearer of it. Your eyes were looking at how the headless body now fell to the floor, your eyes moving upwards to the council in front of you.

“The moment you touch one single hair of his… is the moment I kill your kin in front of your eyes, and I shove their guts down your throats.” The men in the room stayed silent, even the women who served as concubines and servers who stood in a corner of the room. Your eyes scanned everyone as you raised the bloodied sword to them.

“This–” A man tried to respond, but your eyes dug deep into his skull before he could finish.

“Emperor Geta will rule Rome. My army is already on its way here, an army of 3,000 men and women. Barbarians that the only way they know to fight is to rip the intestines raw from your stomachs and strangle you with them.” You lowered your sword as you turned to look at everyone in the room. “The moment you do something to him, is the moment I burn Rome down. No man, woman, child, baby, or dog will be spared. There will be nothing left to rule.”

The room stayed silent for just a few seconds before one of the men raised his hand up in acceptance and surrender. The rest followed through.

The people were not happy, but as they saw your soldiers on the street, witnessing how vicious they were to whoever protested, they calmed down. They have swallowed the fact an Omega is now ruling Rome, their home, fearing for their lives. Nobody had ever tried to take Geta down. Not when you are standing right behind him every second of every day, like his own personal shadow.

“I have one more surprise for you, my love.” You whispered into Geta’s ear, and he smiled as he got up from his chair, seeing all the gladiators now dead on the ring thanks to your men. Guts were all over the dirt as if a painter had done marvelous work. Your men stood in a wide circle as a gate opened, a figure walking in, stumbling. Geta’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you. “I may have kept him alive and lied to you about his departure to savor this moment.”

The Emperor looked back to the field, a small smile appearing on his lips as the crowd remained quiet. Caius stood in the middle of the field, beard now on his features, much more skinnier, bruises on his skin and a sack of potatoes as his only clothes. He looked up at the emperor with tears rolling down his eyes.

“Just for me…”

“He locked you in, intending to murder you. You and I were lucky that the Alpha in that room was me, my sun.” Geta turned around to face you, leaning down to place an appreciative kiss on your lips. Displays of affection were not something common and were frowned upon for indecency, but he couldn’t help himself, and he was the emperor. He could do whatever he pleased. You moaned into the kiss, and he pulled away with a smile, turning around once more, looking down at the doctor who had betrayed him months back.

“Mercy… I ask for mercy, please!” He begged. Mercy? Geta's top lip twitched as he snarled at the man, his right hand coming to rest on his belly. His left hand raised up, thumb right in the middle as you stood behind him. There was no shakiness in his hand. This is Rome. Your Omega’s rome. And you will defend it and him until the day you perish.

And Geta’s finger turned downwards.

the end

a/n: look, i did say the demons won, and this is not everyone's cup of tea, i do know this, but this man is not an alpha. also, a reblog helps

i will tag a few people that interacted with the geta posts: @keeryhours @doomsdaybby @userchai @xgrxcefulx

dividers by @saradika-graphics, banner by me.

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userchai · 5 months ago

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Kiss The Rings- Emperor Geta x Fem!Reader

a/n: I struggled with this one heavy, but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless! hair pulling, name calling, basic p in v sex, dirty talk, oral (male receiving) reader is just there to be used up, there is consent beforehand of course! 18+ only please! not proofread so if there are mistakes I apologize. feedback is welcome and appreciated! 💞

word-count: 938

Spending your time at the feet of the snarkiest emperor around was not how you pictured your life going, but here you were. Geta was hell bent on everyone knowing you were his. You’d managed to escape once and suffered the consequences, so now you accepted your fate. Maybe you even were starting to like it but you would never let that be known.

“Cmon, you can do so much better than that with that slut mouth, I said, kiss them.” The crazed look in Geta’s eyes made you want to hide and offer yourself up for him at the same time as you sat at his feet. A vile smirk was plastered on his lips as he held his hand out in front of your face. The rings on his fingers were sparkling from the rays of sun peeking through the windows. “Anything for you.” You breathe out, internally rolling your eyes before leaning down and kissing each of his rings.

A sound rumbled out around you, it should’ve been a laugh but it sounded more feral than anything else. “That’s it pet. Look at you, you’re certainly a pathetic creature, sitting on your knees and doing whatever I tell you.” Your face was hot as he degraded you, the words flowing out of his mouth causing a pit to form in your stomach and a wetness between your thighs. “I bet you’d love for me to split you open right now, wouldn’t you?” Everything in you was screaming yes, your heart beating harder as you slowly looked up at him, his eyelids heavy with lust as he scowls down at you.

You slowly open your mouth up for him as he taps the pads of his fingers against your mouth, he slides them in quickly, causing you to gag a little as drool runs around them and down your chin. The salty taste of his skin was the best thing you’d ever tasted, and even though he could be harsh, you would do anything for a taste. “I think we should get some others in here to watch don’t you?” He asks, his fingers fucking your mouth, slowly picking up the pace until they’re going down your throat.

You hum around them, a gargled jumbled mess that made no sense but he knew what you were trying to say. He laughs before slowly pulling his hand away from you, pieces of his clothing slowly falling to the floor below you. “Changed my mind, not today, but maybe if you’re good enough for me I’ll consider letting your favorite general watch you, I know you’d like that.” Before you could say anything he was pulling you up by your arm, his grip around it making your skin sting as he dragged you over to a chair in the room. “Bend over for me, now.” He snarls, pushing down on the middle of your back, your hands gripping onto the arms of the chair so hard you may have splinters later.

“What a good little servant. Tell me you love it baby, tell me you love when your emperor fucks you.” He says, pushing your legs apart and flipping your dress up, he wastes no time before spitting in his hand. He strokes himself a few times quickly, spitting down against your ass and letting it run down to your pussy before he’s thrusting in. The stretch and burn sends your mind into a frenzy. You push your ass back against him as a quiet moan falls from your lips. “I- I love it, love you, love when you fuck me please sir, please.” You babble, his hand twists up in your hair, he pulls on it so hard you’re sure he’s actually pulling some hair out, but you didn’t care. He could feel you pulsing around him at his rough actions.

Loud smacks ring throughout the room as one of Geta’s big hands lands down against your ass, causing you to tense up. “Shhh, you’ll take what’s given to you. That’s for being late meeting me here today, you know better.” He smacks you 6 more times, before he’s roughly pulling his cock out of you. The emptiness you feel sending a bratty whine tumbling from your lips as he turns you around to face him. He makes quick work in pushing you down onto your knees, the dirty floor beneath you rubbing against them uncomfortably. Your heart pounds as he strokes himself in front of your face, sweat beads roll down his tone chest and onto his stomach, the urge to lick him clean overwhelms you entirely. “Open that whore mouth.” You normally hate swallowing, but for him you would do anything.

Your mouth drops open, your tongue lolling out like some sort of dumb puppy as he rubs the head against your tongue. The salty taste of his pre-cum overwhelms you as you smell his skin. He pinches your cheeks together, mumbling about ‘how you’re his favorite hole to fuck.’ Your heartbeat is in your ears, wetness pooling below you as you ache. You knew he wouldn’t take care of you this time because of your disobedience earlier in the day. He moans out a choked sort of sob before his cum is hitting your tongue, running down your throat. He strokes himself a few more times before laughing at the fucked our expression on your face, turning his hand over to look at it before showing it to you.

“Looks like there’s some left behind pet, clean it up.” He demands sticking his hand out to you. “Anything for you sir, anything for you.”

taglist: @littlexdeaths @voyeurmunson @multi-culti-girl @jasminelafleur @jamdoughnutmagician @munsongirly @littleredpartydresson @munsonmuses @pretty-batty @munsonburn3r @punk-in-docs @gri959 @ho-for-joequinn-fics

#joseph quinn smut #emperor geta #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x fem!reader #emperor geta smut #joseph quinn #gladiator 2 #eddie munson smut #joe quinn smut #joe quinn #emperor geta x fem!reader smut #general acacius

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belokhvostikova · 5 months ago

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I’m turning Marie Antoinette saying, “You were not what was desired, but you are no less dear to me. A boy would be the son of France (emperor of Rome), but you shall be mine,” into a very much needed wholesome Emperor Geta x Wife!Reader headcanon, when their first baby is a girl! <3

#gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #joseph quinn #geta #emperor geta #emperor geta headcanon #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta blurb #emperor geta fluff #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you #emperor geta x fem!reader #emperor geta x wife!reader

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stellabk · 11 days ago

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FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part I

Parts 2 and 3 are now up as well!

Summary - Two young daughters and their Patrician father live just outside of Rome in a small village. For the sake of their father’s revolution against the twin tyrant emperors, she and her sister must play the part of lovestruck concubines, even if one of them has too much of a fiery temper to pretend to like the arrogant Emperor Geta.

Warning(s) - binding with rope, abusive behavior (not from Geta), graphic violence, attempted SA, blood, broken bones, not historically accurate. I’m not sure what else, but if you see something else including any edits needed, let me know!

Deianira stirred in her bed from the smell of smoke and the sound of shrieks. Her eyes shot open and she leapt from her bed, brushing the red hair away from her face with her hands as she rushed toward her window. Her brown eyes grew wide as the temple across from her home began disintegrating as it grew more and more ablaze. Soldiers lined the outside, one atop a black horse, as a bulky soldier gripped at a woman’s hair as she knelt on the ground screaming pleas to let her children live. Deianira threw on her clothes in a rush and came rushing down the stairs. Her father stood at the door watching in agonizing silence.

“Father, do something! They’ll kill her and her children!”

Her father only stood frozen, unable to respond. She huffed out a breath of frustration as she pushed past her father, rushing toward the woman.

“We will only ask this once more: where is the man who rules over this village?” the soldier, who you could now see the glinting gold of the Roman insignia on his breastplate, shouted in the woman’s face as he pulled her long hair even further toward the sky. She yelped at the sensation while her two young sons shouted and sobbed for the army to leave their mother alone.

“Let that woman be! What crime has she committed to deserve such callous ruthlessness?”

The soldier’s head shot in her direction, the woman and children now quiet as they stared at their neighbor in fear. The man dropped the woman’s head as she fell to the ground on her face. He began to approach her, tall and burly frame stalking closer and closer like a leopard on the prowl. He stood directly in front of her face, towering over her and spitting on the ground just next to her unclothed feet.

“What right does a bitch have to feel the need to incessantly bark?!” He brought the back of his hand to her face making her stumble to the side. She stayed looking down, her hand slowly moving for the dagger at her side under her dress. He stepped closer to her, yelling blashphemous words at her as he knelt to her ear level just to insult her. He couldn’t get all of his verbal abuse past his lips as her knee came up to meet his croin then her dagger plunged into his throat. He stumbled back several steps with her following, the knife still lodged into his larynx, only pushing harder as he tried to move away. He looked at her with the last light in his eyes as his knees sank to the dirt right beside the woman he had just been tormenting. Deianira spit by his knees before pulling the crimson covered weapon away from his jugular as he fell face first into the red mud.

The general stared at her, unyielding of any emotion but his eyes possessed the faintest hint that he was impressed.

“Forgive my soldier,” the general hopped from the left side of his horse, petting its neck then stepping closer to the petite but obviously dangerous woman in front of him, who still held the dagger chest level and ready to attack once more. “He never has been very tactful. Though I will say, it is a shame you had to kill the fellow.”

“What is it that you Empire scum want with my village?” she hardened her exterior to not let her guard down; he could have only been acting cordially in order to strike her down, after all.

“We have our orders to find Publius, the man who this city follows.”

“What has my father done to incur the wrath of the imperators?”

“Unfortunately your father has refused to send the taxes of the townsfolk to their highnesses, and they took it as a sign he may begin an upheaval.”

“That is nonsense!” your father hobbled to your side. “I would never do a thing to seem like a transgression against my emperors. I beg of you, let me recompense my unintentional transgressions. I shall repay tenfold.”

“Father, you cannot be serious,” Deianira looked at her father. He quickly shot her a look signalling her that she had ashamed him enough. She sealed her lips to prevent any further disgrace to befall him.

“If you and your men wish to wait here for a moment, I shall go inside and wake the servants so they may prepare what you are owed.”

“Very kind, sir. The imperators thank you for your continuous support.”

Deianira’s father nodded to the general before beckoning her back into the house with his hand on her back. Once they were inside, her father closed the door and her sister, Publia, waited with her arms crossed over her chest and yet her wavy blonde hair looked as if it had just been brushed, perfect as ever.

“By the gods, what has happened to you, Deianira?” She brushed her soft cream colored hands across the cheek the soldier had struck, feeling the sting of her touch through the skin.

“Now is not the time. Father, why cower to those soldiers? We have wanted this rebellion to commence for a decade now. Why not stand against the tyrants that sit on the throne?”

“I have my reasons, girl. If you truly want to help our cause–the both of you–I suggest you come near and listen to me carefully. I shall not force on you anything you do not wish to do… We have all discussed the dangers of this revolt, and you both know what is at risk… what you may have to lay down for the sake of the people around us.”

“Father, please. Tell us what you are thinking,” Publia stepped closer to him.

Publius sighed, shaking his head, “I will send the gold and treasures to the emperors, along with my two daughters for an apology.”

“No,” Deianira scrunched her brows, hurt by the notion that their father would pass them along as if they were treasures to be claimed.

“Hear me first, daughter. Your sister is of the meek persuasion. She will make a good fit to tempt Emperor Geta. You, on the other hand, are fiery and hot tempered. Emperor Caracalla will love the challenge of trying to tame the wild beast. If you were to go, you could be a potential consort of the two rulers and bring them to their knees, also giving me the time to build up our recruits and prepare them for the slaughter.”

“But father, if we become nothing more than a consort, we may lose the chance to marry,” Deianira furrowed her brows, holding back her pending explosion of fury from her family.

“She does have a point, father. Not to mention if we are consorts, what shall become of us if we become with child? Should we be exiled, never to see you or any of our loved ones ever again?”

“I understand, and as I stated, I shall not force you both to do this if you do not wish it, but if you do this, we may yet save our people. But you both knew that this revolution could come with great risks.”

SIlence loomed overhead like a broadsword on a small string. Publia was the first to break it.

“I must live up to the name that is yours as well as mine. We are for the people, and I shall be anywhere the rebellion has use for me.”

Deianira hesitated, fighting her head which said to stay under the small blanket of safety in the village, and her heart which cried for the revolution.

“I shall also go. My name my mother gave me might not be of Roman descent, but she gave it to me with purpose.”

Father had the servants carry out gold and treasures in carts, one right after the other. The handmaiden dressed the two doomed sisters in beautiful, luxurious dress for their journey before sending them off with only a few of their close items. The eldest sister walked out the door first as Deia’s father stopped her.

“I want you to heed my words. I do not want you to relent your animosity. Act as if you are being forced to go. Fight them as much as you possibly can until you feel as if Caracalla has “tamed” you. Go forth with the fire of your hair.”

She nodded one last time to her father before he walked her out toward the general.

The general stood beside his horse, waiting for the two women. “Thank you once more, Publius. Your daughters will be well taken care of.”

“Thank you, General Acacius. I am sure they will be taken care of with the utmost diligence.” Your father lowered his head to Acacius in respect.

“However, my men do insist we tie this one to ensure the safety of the rest of the men.”

Deianira smiled with a scoff. “You believe rope will be enough to stop my wrath? If I wish it, I shall bear my teeth to your mens’ throats.”

The rope was tight against her arms as two soldiers wrapped it around her, pinning them to the sides of her torso. A man helped her sister into a carriage, then her, making sure to give her the ample support without the use of her arms.

Before they knew it, the carriage and militia surrounding them made their leave, all of them but two looking back at the smoke from the attack.

The sisters jostled down paths in the carriage that held them, Publia sleeping soundly as Deianira squirmed against the ropes that burned her skin, trying to release some of the pressure. The carriage slowed to a stop, and more bustling noise could be heard from outside it. Publia peeked over the edge where she sat on the floor of the cart, watching as men carried their food cargo in crates and satchels to start camp. She squatted back to her sister’s level ,letting her know what was happening. The women sat as they watched men building tents and a few fires around them as the sun sank further and further down.

General Acacius approached the two of them, “We have a tent for the two of you to share ready if you would like to relax for the night. Dinner will be ready momentarily.”

Deia’s sister pulled her to her feet and led her to the tent. As time passed, she still remained bound, her sister forced to feed her since she lacked the ability to do it herself, and also made up her bedroll. The sun had completely set on the camp, and it grew quieter. The two women slept soundly, though Deianira began to shift in her bedroll at the increase of close sounds. She groggily opened her eyes and looked toward her sister, and was immediately fully awake. A soldier held a knife to her throat and another hand against her mouth, Publia’s skirt showing her loincloth undergarments as she cried quietly and shook. the man had not yet noticed that she was awake, so she knew she had to act fast, but how would she fend him off still bound? In a matter of instinct, she charged for him and threw her full body weight at him like a spear, feet first into his side. The man grunted as he rolled onto the floor, Deia taking it as a sign to head but him with all of her strength. His head fell to the tent floor, rolling over onto hi back as he groggily put his hands against his forehead in anguish. Deianira straddled him, pushing her bare foot against his neck, then snaking the other around to hold his head firm and watch his face turn blue. He grappled for the lost weapon, pawing at her with the other in an attempt to get her off, before he slowly stopped, all light leaving his eyes and head falling to the side still discolored.

Two more guards rushed in from the commotion, seeing the display and their deceased brother. One charged toward Deia, knocking her on her back and off of the dead soldier. He ran toward her with the knife that had been discarded on the floor, but she kicked with both legs into his rib cage, knocking the breath from his lungs. The other grabbed her off the floor by her torso and held her back against him, giving the other soldier an opportunity to attack. He came closer with the knife twirling in his fist and fury in his eyes, panting to try and recover his lost breath. Deianira kicked behind her into the mans knee cap, pushing it into a wrong angle as he screamed before lifting her other leg to kick the man in the same place as the one that was behind her and now on the floor. He cut at her leg, earning a hiss of pain, charging another attack with the blade at her. As if a wild tiger, she ran forward and bit into his neck hard. He screamed at first, then began to gargle. She tasted the metallic taste of his blood, smelled it as it burned at her eyes, but she didn’t relent. If he moved , she bit in harder. He fell to the ground in a heap, still struggling for death, and she still held tightly with her teeth as she collapsed with him. General Acacius stormed in, tens of soldiers behind him now and staring on in horror. Deia finally felt the breathing stop under her lips and let go. Her mouth, legs and arms were covered in a mix of her and the soldiers’ blood sitting criss cross on the tent floor while her sister cowered in the corner. She panted, spitting as much blood from her mouth as possible, tears burning her eyes from the blood exposure.

”Do forgive me, general… they attacked my sister.”

He only nodded, looking at the floor and two bedrolls that had blood splotches scattered on them, then to the girl sitting on the ground covered in blood like a carnivore after devouring a good hunt, and finally to the sister who still remained in her bedroll hat had escaped without a drop of blood or scratch on her.

”We unfortunately have no way for you to clean up, nor anything to change into. Please, get some rest. I shall be outside your tent to ensure nothing like this happens again.”

Publia hugged her sister’s back while the other soldiers dragged their dead companions from the tent leaving a trail of blood behind and the two sisters shared their bedroll that night out of fear for what was to come.

#emperor geta x fem reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta x reader #gladiator ii smut #gladiator 2 smut #gladiator ll #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 #emperor geta #joseph quinn

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r4fe-cam3ron · 9 days ago

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sniffsniffsniffsniffsniff. ohhg, hiiiiiii :3 💝🦋✨

(if they’re open), Can I request Emperor Geta angst ?? Like, he said the wrong thing; he really, deeply hurt Reader; and then he finds her crying in the royal gardens + he feels bad :( 🥰 (royal garden ?? idk how the roman empire works)

maybe a lighter ending? :3 but i would eat up anything u give us, queen 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

ohhh, love!!!! they are absolutely opened! & you’re my first request eeee - WITH geta too??? i hope this delivers for you! ᢉ𐭩 warnings; no spoilers! geta is … geta (sarcastic and mean), slightly ooc, happy-ish ending!

“You are anything but what I truly need.”

The words had bounced around in your head - the voice of the man was smooth as velvet, yet, rough around the edges just as the cobblestone your sandaled feet walks across.

Your head is held high, though your lips threaten to quiver, pulling at the corners. Inhaling roughly, gripping the silk of your dress, you will the burning behind your eyes to go away.

Entering the garden that Geta had allowed you to build, the warmth has sweat beading up a tad more along the hollow of your neck. Placing yourself onto the bench that had some cracks and edges breaking off, your hands fold in your lap.

Eyes lingering on the stone, your fingers fiddle with the golden band. You are not sure if this is what you want - yet, you have to deal with it anyway so Geta doesn’t look as if he were a fool.

If someone killing you was the only way out, you believe you would just lie there and accept the fate of a sword rather than cruel words coming from someone you truly loved, yet didn’t feel an ounce back.

“You are crying.”

Startled, you flinch at the sound of his voice, eyes lifting from your lap as you stare at him. His face is clean - a luxury to stare at, really.

The pale skin that seemed to shine - that didn’t seem as if he was dead. There’s a bit of faded black eyeliner, but his eyes are still wide as they stare at you.

“I…wasn’t aware that I was,” You are quick to look away, realizing that you have openly stared at him for a long time. Bringing a hand up, you brush away the tear. “I apologize.”

He hums as he looks away, eyes traveling up the vines that curl around a tree. “I didn’t mean what I said,” You quickly look over at him. “I have been under a lot of pressure as of late - I took it out on you,”

Geta apologizing is unheard of - a strange feeling settles in your stomach as you continue to stare at him this time.

“It should have been my brother eating those words instead of you,” He looks at you as he nods. “I am sorry.”

A small smile pulls at your lips, and though your eyes are still burning with tears and Geta’s pretty face is slightly blurry from them, you let out an airy laugh.

His brows pinch in confusion. “What are you laughing at?”

“I’m sorry,” Your fingers press over your lips now, looking away from him quickly as your heart pounds and the tips of your ears grow hot. “I am not laughing at you, Geta, my love,”

Your eyes peek over at him once again before you clear your throat. “That is one of the first times I have ever heard you apologize. To anyone.”

He stands. “Yes, well,” He clears his throat. “First and last times for everything,”

You smile and nod, dropping your hand to your lap once more as you stare up with him.

He feels sick at the look of your face - not at all in a bad way. This whole thing - you - were new to him. He doesn’t feel as if he deserves you, or even the notion of any type of love - whether that be platonic or romantic.

Holding out a slightly trembling hand to you, he clears his throat once more, hoping that would sooth any voice cracks.

“Well? Are you coming?”

Slipping your hand into his, you stand from the bench and place your hand against his cheek. He jerks his head to the side slightly before slowly allowing himself to lean into the feeling of your smooth palm.

Nudging the tip of his nose with yours and pressing a kiss to his mouth, you stare at him.

“I love you.”

The words makes his heart skip a beat and breath catch in his throat slightly as his lips part. You smile, though it doesn’t meet your eyes.

“It’s okay not to say it now,” You whisper to him in reassurance as your eyes flicker down to his lips once again before quickly looking back into his brown eyes. “I just thought you should know.”

He only nods, pulling his forehead away from yours slightly. “Well then,” He cleaned his throat. “Let’s go finished getting ready.”

Smiling sadly, you follow behind him as you always will.

#joseph quinn x reader #emperor geta x fem!reader #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you

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musedblues · 5 months ago

Text

AMORE ~ FATI (part 2)

a/n: oh my oh my, thank you everyone for such wonderful feedback! if there is one thing im gonna be for the rest of the year it's a hoe for geta. so i could be coxed into making this a longer series if yall want 👀

warnings: READ PART 1 before this. minimal historical research. fantastical bs. graphic descriptions of murder. sexual situations. you get the gist! MINORS DNI

taglist: @nosamiam1 @screaming-blue-bagel @prestinalove @nxrdamp @alba8688 @mademoiselledreyfus @theawesomekungfupanda @peepeepoopoololswag

part 2 of ?

///

The day you wed was rushed. In the span of a handful of hours there were flowers and musicians flooding the halls. There were endless rows of fabric for you to pick from to dress in. There were a dozen hands shaping your garments to your figure. There were hundreds of spectators lingering outside the empire, waiting for you to reveal yourself as empress. There was Geta.

He looked to you as he often did, with undivided attention. He looked to you in a room full of people and his stare did not break or faulter. Geta's brown eyed gaze was all you could fixate on as the day unraveled around you, as ceremonies were followed through and as you were hurried along into becoming royalty. All you saw was Geta. All you saw was how he kept those brilliant dark eyes ever locked on yours.

It would have overwhelmed you to otherwise look away, to think too vastly about the changes your life was catapulting through in such a short amount of time. That's why, when the ceremony had ended and the gathering to celebrate included your three dear friends, you did not know exactly how to answer their pleas for explanation.

They were happy for you, they were shocked. You were giddy all the while, filling them in as you could, but unable to process the meaning and importance of your new status into words. Instead, you all laughed and spun about the room as musicians played. Julia was thrilled, beaming as the party raged on. She flitted from guest to guest, speaking highly of you loudly enough for you to hear every time.

And then there was Geta, with that illuminating stare ever fixated on you. As your party failed to cease and as the once set sun began to rise into a new day, Geta pulled you away from the gathering. Right in the middle of a conversation you were holding with the priest, Geta yanked you from the room and toward the staircase. He'd barely been able to pull you along toward his room without keeping his hands out from under your dress.

Geta had never displayed much patience when it came to bedding you, that morning being no exception. It seemed his door had barely shut before Geta had ripped your garments away and began to have his way with you. Not that you were complaining. You knew you were signing up for much more, marrying Geta. But you knew also, you were signing up for endless nights and days and weeks in his bed. On his floor. Against that beloved chaise lounge.

And that's where you stayed for a few turns of the sun, In that room, with Geta. He turned away every knock at the door with a booming demand they go away. He was quick to turn his undivided attention back to you, tracing his fingers across your torso, digging his teeth into your skin. He didn't let up. You never asked him to. But when the knocking became more and more persistent, you couldn't help but wonder when your never-ending tryst may have to be halted.

"Shouldn't you be off working?" You wondered, raking back Geta's light toned locks. He leaned near the window, admiring a new sunrise with you. "Shouldn't I? Aren't I supposed to be adopting some kind of responsibility now?"

"I suppose." Geta seemed to understand. But a sly grin turned up the corners of his mouth as he turned his gaze from the sunrise to you. "But right now, you're only responsibility is to me. I command it." With a brow quirked and a gentle hand on your shoulder, Geta guided your descend till your knees met the floor in a bow before him. You knew exactly what he demanded, and you were glad to be of service.

///

When your time captive in Geta's room did eventually end, he proceeded to shower you with treasures. You were awarded cases full of paints and an entire room in the empire all to yourself- and a million canvas at your disposal.

"Shouldn't I have more to do?" You worried to him, one evening. Wasn't the whole point of his mother's begging you to wed so you'd have some kind of influence in the royal goings on? Or was your shift in status all that you needed to represent for now?

"Would you care to do more?" Geta wondered, with a pout of a lip. "I promised you value and respect. I should like you to gain it however you please. But I should also like nothing more than for you to be free of responsibility. It adds up to madness. I'd like to keep you carefree." Geta reasoned with a smile, as his hands traced the curve of your chest. He'd been all to enthralled by your new title, by your belonging with him, to him. He'd be ever so captivated as you stayed as relentless as himself, eager as ever to find yourself between his knees. It was hard to want anything else, to long for more than his body tangling with yours. But the days did eventually move on.

Geta began to spend afternoons away from your side. But every day at his command, by others- you were presented with dozens of dresses in the finest colors you'd ever seen. You were fed the freshest foods. There was no time for you to wonder how to fill, Geta saw to your every waking moment of the day, with entertainment to squeal about and treasure to admire. Geta saw to your evenings in his room, under his touch. You saw to his pleasures all the while, ever more enthralled by how the well regarded and often harsh emperor melted in an instant under your lingering caresses.

///

Your days spun on in that same wonderous circle for a while, until Julia stepped in. One morning her highness surprised you by settling in for a meal with you; asking how you'd been adjusting to this new reality. You mentioned getting on nicely with the guards and the servants. You mentioned having made friends with the gardeners and feeling lucky to have be granted time to paint. You admitted to feeling a little too spoiled by Geta.

"He wants you to be happy. We all do." Julia smiled, lifting a chalice to her lips as you smiled back her way. But she wasn't finished speaking, it seemed. "I'm glad you're fitting in as I suspected you would. But it's time for you to adjust to royal life beyond its pleasures. I'd like you to join me for a charity event this evening."

"I'll be glad to join you! I've only been wary of taking such steps since Geta insisted otherwise. He keeps saying I'll be better off with no responsibilities despite my offers to be of more service."

Julia listened while you explained, rolling an eye at the mention of her son's guidance. With a swat of her hand, she leaned in closer to speak again. "We'll deal with him along the way, you and me. Come represent with me tonight, it'll be the perfect first job for you."

You trusted the royal's input and longed to make yourself more useful. It was easy to look forward to having a purpose for the evening, and it was a thrill to realize you'd be going out for the first time as a royal yourself. This was it. You were playing the game. You were apart of the bigger picture.

///

The charity event was less excitable than you'd hoped, in some regards. There wasn't much to do or say there. Just hands to shake and bows to accept. But that was the rush of the evening. Just weeks ago people passed you on the street with no second glance. And you'd passed them by all the same. Funny how quickly life changed. The same class of people you were peers with weeks ago were humbling themselves before you now, beaming smiles your way, expressing pride to know someone from your side of things could dream of achieving such royal goals.

You rode home with Julia in a fog of glee, as she praised you for connecting to the public so effortlessly. For bringing a sense of humanity to the royals, for respecting her son, for the massive change you not only agreed to but seemed to enjoy. You let her fawn over you, relishing the compliments, yearning to feel as radiant as she believed you to be.

When you reached the purple carpeted entrance, and made your way up the stairs, you found Geta waiting up for you near his bed. Clothed only by his robe, he turned to find you dressed in finery, dressed like a royal. The man smiled, eyes raking up and down your figure.

"You're a vision. You're home." Geta stated, reaching to hold your head in his hands. "It's so funny." He spoke low and gently, searching your eyes as he seemed to realize something while addressing you. "I can't imagine my plans before you were in them."

"How much have you had to drink?" You wondered with a small laugh, nervous by the softness in his lament. Geta was hardly cruel to you. But he was rarely as tender as he'd just become.

"I've just been going stir crazy waiting up for you. I hadn't even realized you'd left for the night until you didn't join me here at the usual hour. Did I hear something about charity with my mother?" Geta wondered, moving about the room now. Stretching his arms on his shuffle toward the edge of the massive carved bed.

"It was rather boring. Thought there be more action." You admitted. "I know you've wished me away from drafting battle plans and enforcing laws. But I do long to be a more active member of this family, Geta. Besides, your mother enforced our union for a reason, didn't she?"

Geta listened as you spoke, keeping a sly eye on your amble toward where he stalled against the bed. He reached a ringed hand out to rest at the curve of your hip, fingers pressing to pull you ever closer before him.

"She was right too, she saw you were made up of good will and the strength to stand by that. I'm glad she forced the idea. I'm more glad you chose this life all the while. It's admirable you wish to have more responsibilities. But that's a question to answer another day. All you need to worry about answering now, is this... tell me how can I make your evening free of all worries and wonders? How can I serve you, your highness?"

"I'd ask you to wake me from this dream, but I rather like the course it's taken." You grinned, reaching your arms around the royal's neck, struggling to hold back a burst of shocked laughter as Geta pulled you in and lifted you up all the while. In a flash he'd thrown you to his bed, moving like a jungle cat in your direction.

///

The next day you were scheduled to meet with a few senators and councilors alike. Your royal role was to be discussed, possible plans drafted. It had been a meeting you'd been looking forward to since your wedding day.

Not even Caracalla's glare could cloud your excitement, as he passed you in the halls. his dull beady eyes rolled in your direction as he floated by in a stomp. The guard at his side, and the guard at yours, shared looks you couldn't read. And while you felt a certain fear in the wake of the more cruel emperor, a pity followed. How sad a life he lived, so shrouded in hate and rage.

As you entered the meeting room, welcomed by a set of men smiling at your appearance, the reality of your situation seemed to settle deeper into the pit of your stomach. You recalled Caracalla's very recent glare your way. Geta's imploring you to take as little responsibility on as possible. Julia's plea for you to take on as much as you could bare. The decision was yours to make now, and you realized if you didn't achieve the perfect balance of wishes and demands, this entire empire may implode at your slightest misstep.

Over the course of a couple of hours, you and the group of leaders discussed stances for you to take heart to. Causes to stand for and against. Talk of addressing the people of the empire and hosting parties and appearing at events took up a large portion of your time. Until finally you worked up a project to occupy your time and a planned meeting for a few days from now.

You were left feeling satisfied by the efforts the team had put into giving you purpose in your roll within this empire. But you wondered still what more you should be achieving?

The senators left out of the back of the meeting room, while your guard lingered near the half opened main entrance. As you collected a couple of scrolls and began to head out, a muffled voice could be heard around the corner of the crack in the door. with a few steps closer and one shrug to hide better out of sight, you recognized one voice as your husbands. And the other as his brothers. You crept ever closer toward the crack in the ajar entrance to spy as the siblings squared off in the hall, four soldiers squared off between them and their sharp words.

"It's like you to hide behind the voice of a woman," Caracalla scowled, "you've always used our mother's useless input when your feckless lack of leadership reared its head. But to adopt a whorrish commoner as your wife, to give her a semblance of purpose is a laughable new low for you, Geta."

"Speak of the empress as you did just now once more and I will slaughter your guards first before you, so you can see how powerless you truly are." Geta seethed, stepping to sneer at his brother with his hand on his sword.

You pulled back from the door, mind buzzing. Geta really did care for you, it seemed, even if you were here to benefit the emperor in some twisted way, he'd spoken quite protectively of you in your absence from his side. And that bloomed a certainty in your chest that you needed to be more sure of your place here. You should stop worrying about what action to take, and simply take it.

You spent the evening piddling around with the ideas the senators had given you. And feeling gratitude that the man you'd wed defended your honor. You really could be glad to benefit the emperor as his wife, as his supporter. But you were newly determined to act as the angel on his right shoulder; ready to battle the devil Caracalla on his left.

When Geta joined you for bed that night, you admitted to hearing the spat the siblings shared. You went on to press more, to demand your willingness to be more of an asset to the empire, to Geta.

"Don't make me tell you no." Geta broke your on going plea with a frustrated groan. You hadn't seen that coming.

"What... what do you mean?"

"I want you here, yes. But I do not want to need you. Don't you see that? Don't you see this entire push and pull is between my brother and me? I will not have you mixed up in the middle. I know my mother thinks you and I working together against Caracalla is what needs to happen but even if it is, now isn't the time. She cannot see that because all of this is only between my brother and me." Geta was speaking as certainly as ever. His words so sharp, his voice so commanding. Yet his eyes stayed soft on yours, his hands never clenching, but reaching out to hold either side of your face.

"I want you here." He repeated again, enunciating every syllable. "But I cannot need to depend on you. Or uncertainty will seep from my leadership alone, and into the villages and this fight between Caracalla and myself will be lost. Thats all this is. Between him, and me. So please don't ask again. Not for a while. I will tell you, empress, when your time will come. Because it will. But not yet."

"I see." You mustered, not quite hurt, not quite sure of yourself, not quite without understanding. Simply shocked but his sudden outburst. Shocked by the rawness of it. Shocked by how he'd waited till now to make such a stance known, he usually spoke exactly how he felt in an instant. Why didn't he make that clear to you from the start, you wondered?

That night you sunk into bed without feeling Geta's skin against yours, without his touch. He kept on one side of the massive bed for the first time since you'd ever shared it with him. And you didn't know what to make of that.

///

A couple nights ended just as that one had, silence filling the space that was usually occupied by heavy sighs and the thud of your bodies against one another's. You did as he asked, you asked little to nothing of the man. So why was he still keeping such a distance from you?

Sleep evaded you as answers did too. You took to wandering the halls to tire the spinning questions ever on your mind, a poor guard forced to linger close behind your restless quests.

Often nothing happened. Dark cornered dead ends spun your heels, and you ended up back in bed, you'd sleep, or you wouldn't. And then you'd end up wandering the next night, your habit threatening to wear a sorry familiar path along the rugs.

But one night a light shone from a room you often found dark. You were curious enough to move ever closer toward it, but weary enough to go slow.

In the parlor you found Julia and her son. Caracalla was sipping from a cup of tea as a bevy of guards lined the outskirts of the room. His face grew long with a grimace at the sight of you. But Julia was alight, waving you to come and join them.

"What's this? Come to suck up royal blood like the common tick you are? Why would you allow this nobody such free reign of our home, mother?" The half reigning emperor really had a knack for dramatics. He'd never had a good word for you, but ever the creative and new verbal lashing.

"Come now, Caracalla. She wed your brother. She was anointed. She's one of us now, official as they come." Julia stood to greet you, giving you a strong look that made you want to hold your breath. She was always planning something, it seemed. You could tell her mind spun now. "Besides... She's already with child. Already carrying the future heir. Isn't that right? There is much to plan ahead for."

Appalmenthaltedyour senses and all logic. You sure hadn't yet been given a reason to think you were with child, and knew she couldn't have a reason either. You couldn't decide if you wished she was right or wrong right now. Julia was looking at you as if to suggest you find a way to make it true in an instant. If you were, would that mean Caracalla would step away? Or would that ensure a plot for him to end your days? He wanted such full control. You'd been told by Geta not to dare threaten the stakes of the game between his brother and himself until further notice. But Julia, as before, had done so anyway.

"You really shouldn't have told me that, mother." Caracalla grinned wickedly, rising up from his chair. A shiver crept up your spine when you turned to find the way he was looking at you.

"Now, son, you have an entire half of this empire to guide. Shouldn't you be off ruling like you say you wish too so badly?" Julia snapped. She was a bold and brave one to do so, in the frighteningly little leaders wake. Caracalla kept his bone chilling glare fixed on you as he saw himself out of the room, guards following. Yours had waited out in the hall. So, when the room went quiet and Julia was left lingering at your side, you couldn't help but let panic show.

"Why did you do that? What if I'm not-"

"These boys are entirely too focused on the dynamics of their fight, and not nearly worried enough about the outcome of the empire they're running." Julia explained in a sharp hush. Her usual kind eyes were wide under furrowed brows and pointing sharply at yours.

"You and I have to take the reins of the little control we're allotted, weather we wish it or not. How much clearer do I need to make it to the lot of you that the time for games is up? Rome is tired of playing. And I will not stand by for the people to overthrow the hard work of many leaders past- because my imbecilic sons hate each other enough to divide the empire. You better get to work on the heir to this throne, because even what you and I can do together won't likely be enough."

Julia's cutting and hissed speech left you in a stupor. She huffed out of the room, your guard sauntering in confounded as you stood there processing everything that had only just happened. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep tonight.

///

The day of duties had nearly come to a close. You'd had another meeting with the senators. They let you talk until you were blue in the face about changes to policies and addresses to the public. But they only sent you off with another party to plan. You'd shared a quiet meal with Geta, glad when his eyes met yours over the course of the meal. Frustrated when little to no conversation sparked as you ate. Geta only mentioned something about following you up to the room as you finished, heading up the staircase.

In the hall before the second turn you were meant to take, a sharp whistle cut through the darkened home. There was a light on in the parlor, and an eerie silence stayed after the call. You looked to the guard at your side, and he looked to you, tilting his head to imply he'd go first to investigate. But you waved at the guy, hurrying to creep at the pace he set, something in your gut insisting you peer into the illuminated room.

Caracalla stood near the back of the parlor, a room covered in that ugly wallpaper you hated so much. In his grasp, he held Julias arms to her chest, and a knife to her throat. There were no soldiers in sight beyond yours. A horrible mistake. A terrible instance.

"Hey you, blood sucker, don't move." Caracalla taunted you, tightening his grip around his mother who shook with fright in his clutch. "Come in. If you turn around, she dies. If that guard follows you, she dies."

With a careful glance toward the man who usually followed you around, you stepped forward, holding a palm out to insist he stay back as demanded. In a slow creep you entered the room, watching the wild eyed emperor consider your every move.

"What are you doing Caracalla?" You begged to know, voice steady and low.

"Now you and I both know you're far too worthless to ever threaten my position, right commoner? You and I both know you're only playing a small role here but, I'm not so naive to the plans for bigger things you all have at my expense." Caracalla spat an explanation your way, wearing the most twisted version of a smile you'd ever seen. "So, I was hoping we could all come to some sort of agreement tonight. Ah, brother just in time- no, no wait."

Caracalla's speech ended when Geta must've loomed in the doorway behind you. You didn't dare turn to see. Geta must've waved a guard to follow or moved to draw his sword. Because Caracalla was screaming next "Do not come into this room except alone and with your palms facing me! I will kill her if you decide on any other move!" He yelled so loud spit flew from his lips, face scarlet with rage. Julia trembled in his grasp, biting back sobs you could tell.

Geta eased beside you, his entrance into the room as calculated as yours had been. His hands up as his sibling demanded.

"Brother, I'll give you some choices. I know you're a big fan of options, having rarely taken kindly to my demands." Caracalla went on, sickening grin ever growing. He tightened his hold on his mother, a knife so precariously nudging against her throat. Before going on, he glanced up to the guards outside the door, demanding they shut it. He had to shout once more and nod to the woman in his grasp before his wishes were granted. When you heard the thing shut with a hollow thud, your blood ran cold.

"Now, your choices Geta. You see one of us in this room has to die. One of you." Caracalla was practically beaming, like a child thinking up a rule to a game to play. Julia screwed her eyes shut and muffled a cry. "It could be our dear mother. She's been too crafty, meddling around, making decisions no one but the likes of we emperors ought to be making."

Geta let his hands fall slowly, keeping a laser focus on his brother.

"Or, It could be your lovely new wife and alleged unborn heir." You felt your fists tighten at your sides, your body frozen in place with a new wave of fear. You felt Geta look to you with a shock you prayed Caracalla couldn't read. You didn't know if you were with child. And you hadn't yet brought up Julia's pressing such matters to the front of your mind. Geta had other matters to deal with the past evening. And he'd been clear about you keeping your own plans to yourself. That must've meant his mothers, too, you were certain. "I'm sure your wife's a fine and easy shag. But her presence here is a threat, no matter how inane I can see she is. And if one commoner should shake up this empire, I'd hate to have to deal with your half bread ilk."

And before Geta could rocket into rage, Caracalla reminded him that any wrong move and Julia's life would be the one taken, and then the rest of yours would follow suit.

"Let me finish... you could obviously choose yourself, brother. With you out of my way, I won't have to worry about the fate of the women in the room. I can do with or without them whatever I please. Should you be so chivalrous as to take the fall?"

"You're worse than mad." Geta shook his head, keeping a study on his sibling. Your heart hammered as you waited for the plot of this meeting to unfurl.

"Trouble deciding, I see. Let me help." Caracalla kept his wicked grin as he decidedly and swiftly moved the knife away from Julia's throat before flinging the woman flying to the ground, against the wall at Getas feet, with a crushing thud. What a ruthless fucker. You barely had time to register that the boy had disregarded his mother in a heap, before he was lunging for you.

Caracalla had you in a stinging grasp in the blink of an eye. His plated chest pressed against your back. His left hand held your wrists in one vice like hold, at your stomach. His right held his knife to the bend of your neck.

"How's this view, Geta? Inspiring any choice? Time is ticking. I'd hate to make up my mind before you do."

Your brain was working overtime, spinning up a dozen ways out of this. You'd been squirming against his hold since Caracalla reached for you; and it had worked to loosen one of your wrists from his grasp juuust enough to think of breaking free. But you knew you only had one chance. And as he asked Geta to make a choice, and before anyone spoke again, you moved at the speed of light. In one swift action, you yanked your hand free and swung your elbow back hard as you could muster to crack against your captor's nose.

Caracalla was caught off guard enough to reactively let go, and you were quick enough to spin and sweep his feet out from under him with a carefully kicked foot. This made Caracalla fall to the ground, his knife clattering at his side, his nose pouring blood, his elbows cracking against the marble floor because his hands were too busy reaching for his face to save his quick fall. Geta was fast as you, giving you a flash of a look before his hand extended to shove you away. As he reached for his brother's knife, Geta's foot stomped on Caracalla's chest to keep it down, with a crushing thud.

You clattered over to Julia's side, who was still slumped in tears on the floor. You knelt to her, reaching out an arm as you examined her finding no blood or bruising. Only tears stained her complexion as she watched her sons descend into the eye of the storm of their decades long war.

Geta had Caracalla by the throat, his fingers digging into his brother's neck as he knelt over him. "Didn't I warn you to watch your back, time and again?" Geta spat. "And didn't I tell you to never speak so lowly of my empress just the other day? I made my choice long ago, dear brother, it's always been you." With a cry that had built up over the years, with Caracalla's knife, Geta plunged the instrument into his brother's neck, twice over. Julia buried her head in your shoulder as it happened. You listened to Geta's yell, to the sound of tearing flesh, the sputter of blood. You watched as Caracalla fought his way to bleakness, legs twitching, mouth moving to speak and only spewing red. You watched Geta throw the knife to the ground and rise to stand, his hands finding the back of his head as he heaved to breathe and paced about the room. You saw, between your husband's spiral, that damn ugly wallpaper.

It wasn't long though before Geta knelt before where you did, gasping an apology. He looked to you for a moment, but he was speaking to Julia, you understood. She pulled away from you to look at him as he whispered another sorry, as she cried. He began to reach for her, but the mother shuddered away at the sight of his blood-stained hands. And then with a shake of his blonde head Geta's eyes were on yours again.

"Are you?" He wondered, still breathless, still in a daze. But despite the way the room had begun to spin for all of you, you understood what Geta was asking.

"I-I don't know." You shook your head, quick to make it clear that it was up in the air. You could've easily been pregnant. But you hadn't had a reason to think you were. Unless Julia cast a spell on you that evening, you couldn't be certain.

Geta's expression shifted a few unreadable times, as you decidedly turned your focus back to consoling Julia. Geta apologized again, and looked about the room. He ultimately stood and opened the doors to the guards and demanded they take care of the body and the blood and wake the coroner. When they took his body Julia went with it. When Geta looked to you there were a million what if's turning into what now's between the two of you. The fight for power had ended, but was there a plan for such a time as this? Was it ever meant to end?

///

Caracalla was laid to rest by Julia's demands. She decidedly packed her things soon after, to spend a month mourning nearer the sea- and to wait out the public's inevitable celebration of her son's death. She'd always known the he was a tyrant and a bully and whatever could be worse than that. But he was also her son. So she went off.

And all of a sudden Geta was in charge of everything. He freed Caracalla's less threatening prisoners, he addressed the people of Rome and wished to unite them. Geta was taken aback by the mix of praise and disapproval he was met with. Folks celebrated his keen and swift leadership. Folks celebrated his slaughtering his own sibling for the betterment of the empire. Folks denounced his eager leadership. Folks denounced the murder of his sibling, calling Geta as ruthless and power hungry as his brother. Suddenly there was no brother to carry the blame, no brother to take up the honor. There was only Geta.

For the next weeks, Geta was always awake. On the strolls you took past midnight; you found him drafting plans and laws and making sense of things once out of his control and understanding.

For the next weeks, you hardly heard from the man you wed, decidedly trapping yourself in the room full of canvas and paint and quiet. You weren't even inspired to create, but your fingers moved still to make sense of this new reality in some way. You filled up many frames with rocky blue waves and darkened mountain ranges.

For the next weeks, you'd rarely felt the emperor's touch. He'd crash into bed as you were scrambling to leave it. He'd appear in rooms you grew sick of staying in, missing your presence, you, passing by his.

Until one day, you were moved to linger about the meeting room as your husband and the senators were setting up a meeting. You sauntered about, restless as the men settled into a discussion about budgets and plagues and armies. A few of the men of the assembly began to bicker about opposing views, as Geta sat letting them. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as the pair argued on. You wondered when the last time he'd had a full night's rest was.

As senators were arguing about Caracalla's former wishes for the empire, Geta began to insist they cease their chatter. One of them seemed to stall their argument, but another surprisingly turned to you.

"What do you make of this quandary, empress? You've always been wise to-"

From his slouched position, Geta interrupted. "My brother is dead. My wife isn't privy to all of the information needed to decide. I will decide the outcome of this debate. You must stop arguing just to oppose." His announcement was abrupt, his patience wearing thin, you could see. But maybe you could help ease the tension he held throughout himself. You'd been able to before. Maybe you could be made to understand more.

"Are you sure I can't-" You eased into wonder, locking your gaze with Geta's weary brown eye's. He listened for a moment. But then his patience had run out, eyes screwing shut, hands facing out keeping you back, keeping you away.

"No, please" He implored to you, eyes full of pleading. As his gaze grew more heavy, and began to turn toward someone else, you recognized an anger in his expression. Then you saw his focus on the guards near the door. "Take her to the hall!"

Taken aback as you were by Geta's outburst, you knew better than to fight him, than to argue back. Not in the heat of the moment. You'd decided you'd get him to listen to you one way or another, eventually. But you knew the man well enough now to know this wasn't the time or the place. With a nod you hurried ahead of any guard and sliped out of the room, down the hall, to the gardens.

You spent the afternoon there contemplating only simple things with the gardeners. Like what the bees thought when winter came or what flower the workers liked best. You found the dining hall alone and thanked the cooks for the meal. You savored your dinner wine and stalled your time up to the bedroom. You figured sleep would evade you yet again. You dreaded the practice of trying to rest when you just knew you wouldn't be able to.

But when you did go up, Geta was there, already sleeping. You were glad to see it, having missed the sight in a few days time. As you eased into bed at his side, you moved slow and held your breath. You'd hate to wake him. But then,

"What would you have said?" Geta's whispered wonder nearly caused you to jump, having assumed he wasn't awake.

"What?" You gasped, nearly laughing as you settled into bed with less precision now. He didn't move at your side but he did speak up again. He asked how you would have handled the issue with the senate if he would have let you. You only thought for a moment before answering. And once you had, quiet took over the room again. You'd hoped it would be broken by Geta once more. But you watched his breathing slow and realized he'd eased into sleep at last and dared not move to change that. But you wanted to keep talking. You'd always had such meaningful banter. You wanted to ask if he was okay, because you knew he wasn't, you wanted to be so much more to Geta than he was letting you be.

But instead, you let him sleep.

///

There was a party the next day, a game in the arena. You were pleased to walk by Geta's side, delighted to find a grin turning up the corners of his lips one of the first times you locked eyes with him that morning. But soon after a brooding took over his countenance that showed no signs of letting up.

As the pair of you left for the arena, you took on the task of sharing kind hellos and nods to the people who lined your path. You shook hands with the folks who hosted the games, and listened to their stories and shared some of your own. You shielded your eyes from the hot sun and felt glad to be out in the day, instead of roaming the halls of that dreary home. You watched the fighters in the circle duel, and turned with a frown to find Geta's unfocused gaze fixated elsewhere. Undecided on how to snap him out of such a haze in the midst of such a public event, you went on taking on the task of shaking hands and sharing smiles.

You were left alone to host the dinner that followed. Somewhere between the first pour of wine and the blessing over dinner, you realized Geta had left the room. But it was full of senators and socialites and friends you'd now come to know. And you were at the head of the table. So you lifted your glass in a toast to the rest of the year under the ever-shifting rule of the empire. And you ate. And you laughed and when the night ended you shook hands and shared smiles.

As you began to see everyone out, a pair of men lingered nearer the dining hall than the exit door. An elder with a wiry beard stalled with a furrowed brow, but a gentle grin.

"As you know, Julia wrote to us, inviting us to tonight's events. But I see she isn't with us?" The man began to address you. He'd introduced himself over dinner, along with a handful of other faces you'd only just met that night.

"The royal mother is still seaside. I'm sure she'll be sad to have missed your appearance here."

"Well, your highness, that's the thing. Julia wrote to us... about you. You see, I'm a doctor. She insisted we make your acquaintance and check-"

"Oh." You offered this poor old fellow a clenched smile as you realized where this was going, sparing the guy the further awkward explanation. Of course the woman sent them here without telling you first. She'd decided to curse pregnancy upon you without asking first. And now, because you were superstitious of the way this whole possibility had been continuously pushed, you told the doctor to stay.

It wouldn't hurt to check, right?

///

Your stomp up the stairs was determined. You'd just been reminded that your fate, in your hands or not, was not just your own. Born to die, maybe. Living to lead some kind of life with Geta? Sure. But the second half of that 'some kind' was yours. And you were tired of waiting for your turn. You marched up the stairs, with an entire new plan in mind.

Maybe it had been enough, to be married, to host parties. Maybe that was okay. Maybe Geta was ever changed after the murder of his brother. And maybe you couldn't help the man out of his stupor from that. But you weren't going to sit around and wait for Geta to catch up with the changing paces of the empire. You were going to remind him that you were dictated to stay here because there was more to you than a kind smile and a commanding presence. As you considered the entire life you'd led that ended up in your arrival here, and the life you'd spun into so far this season, you headed to your room.

But in there, Geta wasn't sleeping. He was sat in that tiny chair at that tiny table in the middle of the room, with his elbows on his knees and his head hung low. In his loose clutch was a nearly empty bottle of wine.

You eased into the room, shutting the door with care. The flicker of the lanterns in the corner guided your step into the middle of the room, where you stalled before Geta's miserable slouch. Before you could think of how to address the man, he was lifting his head to peer up to you. Geta seemed as if he could cry, the weight of his new reality evident all over his face.

"I was wrong." He whispered. You cast the man a puzzled glare as you settled into your posture before him. Decidedly, you spoke in return.

"I hope you're not regretting what happened to your brother. Unfortunate as it may be to lose family, he had it coming, don't forget-"

"No, I was wrong when I said I didn't want to need you." Geta implored, gazing up at you with big glossy, anger filled eyes that softened as your brow furrowed.

"I do need you. I want you here with me. And I need you here for me. I was wrong." Geta's admission seemed to hiss its way out of the very pits of himself. And as he finished speaking, the emperor slid from the chair to fall to your feet, head pressing against your knees, wine bottle clattering to the floor.

As this powerful man reduced himself to a puddle before you, you felt the rise of a certain power within yourself. You'd come up here with every intention of swinging for the fences. But Geta had submitted himself at your feet by his own will.

"You need me after all, your highness?" You breathed, carding your fingers through the emperor's golden locks as he stayed in his slump before you. Geta muffled a yes, it sounded as if he were truly near tears now. It could've broken your heart, the cracks in his voice, if you weren't surging with adrenaline now.

"Good. I'm glad you've come to your senses. Now let me tell you what I need." You started, curling your fingers to latch withing Geta's hair, pulling his head back for his eye's to find yours. "I'm done parading around as a glorified party planner. I'm acting as more than a wanton body for your bed, now. You promised me value and respect. And I hope I shouldn't have to remind you of that promise ever again. I hope my demands to be heard shall no longer be put on pause. I refuse to raise your child from the side lines, Geta." You announced, voice soft but commanding as you could make it.

His already drunken and dewy-eyed expression morphed into something wider and more stupefied. The emperor let his head turn to one side for a beat, and then the other, as if to shake his head. As if to ask if you meant it.

You let your head move up then down, to assure it was true. Maybe Julia did curse you that night. But a child was never out of the question by how many nights you spent with your legs wrapped behind Geta's back. Things sure happened fast in this world, deaths and births and promises and problems were ever spun to life like passing storms in the royal court. But time always slowed in this room, for better or worse. Luckily tonight, Geta began to smile.

"I shall see to it all, I already promised. I promised you." Geta clawed his way up your figure. His body molding against yours with desperation and desire ever present. His lips pressed against yours, his fingers sunk into the skin of your cheeks. His skin was warm to the touch, as you peeled away the layers that had been covering it. You demanded that the man tell you what he needed then and there, desperate to hear such sultry pleas fall from his lips.

You saw to his wish to plow you against the mattress that's middle had been missing your union. You answered his call for your fingers to yank at his hair. He begged you for more. He swore there was nothing he wouldn't do at your demand. If you'd been dreaming, you never wanted to wake up. Especially if the next day meant you'd be finally allowed to make decisions that affected an entire empire. And now too, the heir to it's throne.

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