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stellabk · 6 months ago

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What Is Your Real Name?

Summary - Albus is carried away to fight in the Coliseum, but has a dark secret. He makes an unlikely friend within the confines of the palace, but still must hide who and what he truly is.

Warning(s) - sexual content, 18+, female receiving oral, cross dressing [?], penetration, pinv sex, sexual themes, violence, noncon if you squint real hard; let me know if I missed anything as always

This is not how it was supposed to go. Hanno sat chained in a cart, several other men around him,clenching his jaw as people threw rotten fruits through the bars as if they were enclosed animals. He took several deep breaths, willing himself not to reach through the bars and grab someone, anyone and rip their esophagus out. He was snapped from his violent thoughts at she sound of a hiss in pain sounded from his left. He glanced over, a small figured boy held his cheek where smeared red fruit splattered his features. The boy was so dainty, though he did have some muscle tone especially in his legs. The clothes he wore were baggy against the short frame, and his face seemed to be too feminine and made him look young in the face. In fact, his blonde hair was in a small bun at the base of his neck and was far too shiny to be a man’s, he had thought to himself. The boy’s eyes met Hanno’s, and Hanno knew he had been staring.

“What?” The boy murmured, wiping the spoiled juice from his cheek, then smearing the color on the fabric of the shift he wore.

“My apologies, you just look so young.” Hanno faced forward once more. “Does not seem as if you should be here.”

“I shouldn’t, but yet I must be.” The boy’s voice even sounded light and airy like a young girl’s. “Does not seem as if you should be here either, friend.”

Hanno looked at the boy once more, who’s cheekbone was splotched red from the impact of the fruit. “What is your name?”

The boy gave a small yet sincere smile. “Albus Cassius Drusus. And you?”

“Hanno… just Hanno. Where do you hail from?”

“From here, from Rome. I’ve known no other place. And where do you?”

Hanno smiled, almost bitterly, “Numidia.”

That was the only interaction they had before being thrust into a foreign home, lavish and tall. A man named Macrinus had purchased them as if they were livestock, and as soon as they had arrived at his home, Hanno and Albus had already had to face against a bald, intimidating looking man who they would regrettably come to know as Viggo. Albus had gone first, holding his own for a while, but had fallen shortly after. Hanno had been so infuriated he did not wear the knuckled metal gloves and beaten the bald man without them. Albus and Hanno had come to a mutual understanding, sitting in silence together as they ate, sharing a cell, and becoming slightly close acquaintances.

They had even fought together in the Coliseum the first day, Albus listening to every word Hanno said in order to defeat the opposing gladiator atop the back of a ferocious rhinoceros. Though the rhino had managed to land a sizable gash on Albus’s left side that needed tending as soon as the battle had concluded.

“You must get Ravi to inspect that; you have lost a lot of blood,” Hanno looked at the boy concerned as his friend winced, a hand coated in caked and some fresh blood holding tightly to the wound.

“I shall heal on my own. Or, I shall perish and not have to experience such pain in the arena again,” Albus let out a pained chuckle. Wincing at the movement, but Hanno had not laughed.

Hanno did not want to press the issue, but instead called for Ravi and let Albus have his alone time within the cell. Ravi had been a good friend to him, so he had no doubt that his new acquaintance would be cared for. He couldn’t however explain why he seemed to care so much for the boy. Maybe it was because he was so young, or maybe he saw the lonely little boy running and being left all by himself like he had experienced all his life. Still, he felt neither were the answer he sought.

As Hanno leaned against the wall outside the cell, Ravi emerged frantically, waving over Viggo, signaling him to enter. Hanno had tried to peek inside to see what was wrong but Viggo had shoved him aside, fighting his way into the cell. They reemerged seconds later, holding Albus by the arm as he wrapped himself in a linen sheet to cover himself from the chest downward, his blond hair let down and cascading a little farther than his shoulders.

“The man you’ve come to know as Albus is a liar!” Viggo threw Albus down, Hanno immediately went to step down and help, but Ravi stopped him. “This woman has defiled the Coliseum.”

Hanno’s gaze shot back down, everything beginning to fall into place like a puzzle. Albus, though now he was unsure that was her name, was a woman. She looked up at Hanno through terrified eyes.

“Her punishment shall be the gladiators’ whore. If you wish to fight so bad, fight against the men as they tear into you like you are nothing but flesh.”

Viggo left, the woman now visibly shaking on the floor, clenching the sheet between her fingers so tightly her knuckles became white. Men began to stalk toward her slowly, imagining all the things they could do to her.

Hanno stepped forward, a dark unreadable expression on his features as he loomed over her. “I claim the deceiver as my personal property. Anyone who so much as looks at her may challenge me to take her.”

The lustful, blood crazed men began to whisper, backing off out of fear to the gladiator that the gladiator could easily take them down if he was able to take down a rhinoceros.

“Woman, come with me,” he yanked her up off the floor, earning him a yelp as she tried to keep ahold of the linen she draped herself in. The gladiator and his new prize marched to the bathhouse, Hanno barricading the door from the other side.

“Hanno, friend, I am so sorry. Please, be merciful.”

Hanno turned facing the shaking woman. “What is your real name?”

There was a pause as the woman quivered, taking a deep breath, “Albina Cassia Drusus. I gave you my father’s name, I am sorry. I had no choice! They would have taken my brother, and he is no older than 10.”

He looked at her, sorrow filling his eyes. He knew how she felt all too well. She was a slave, forced to do what no one wanted just like he was.

“I do not blame you. I do not plan to do anything to you, you have my word. Viggo and the others will be watching, however, so we must play the part. If you help me, I can keep you safe.”

Albina nodded fervently. “What will you have me do? Anything!”

Hanno approached, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door, knowing men waited on the other side to hear the show. He whispered, for her to play along and not to be afraid. Before Albina could even nod in agreement, Hanno had ripped the sheet in a place that wouldn’t leave her vulnerable. He picked her up bridal style, carrying her into the warm waters of the bath, making the splashing excessive to maybe convince the men he had pushed her in.

“I shall enjoy being the only one to take you,” he spoke roughly, just loud enough for others on the other side to hear, but not loud enough that it seemed like a farce.

“Please, Hanno, I beg of you be gentle!” She yelped, playing along perfectly, the two of them couldn’t help but crack a grin.

“You begging is pointless. Spread.”

Albina couldn’t help but feel heat building in her stomach even if she knew it was all a game. The words surged something in her.

“What a beautiful sight. Tell me, has any other man had you?”

“No, only you. Please, I beg you be merciful toward me,” she whimpered.

It was Lucius now that felt his core twitch. She sounded so genuine and he felt his cloth grow tighter. He let out a groan for show, but in reality it was genuine. He did not remove his clothing, beginning to thrust into the water against her, daring not to touch her or he would spill over the edge. Even her fake moans seemed to be too much for him to handle. He sat down, pulling her on top of him, water splashing around violently like the ocean waves crashing against a ship.

“Ride.”

She bounced against his leg, the water cascading the white linen shift she covered with, billowing with small waves in the pool and showing her budded nipples through the fabric. He grimaced at the sight of her, shuttering at the imprint of her womanhood against him. This was the closest interaction with a woman he had since he had been with his wife, which was almost a month ago. It was becoming more and more difficult to will himself not to beg for her to sit on his cock.

“Hanno, p-please, I’m going to-“ she mewled, still bouncing and letting the water splash ludely.

“I will finish first. Hold yours or I shall teach you a lesson you won’t soon forget.”

Albina threw her head back with a mewling whimper, “Yes, Hanno.”

He tapped her hip with his hand, Albina immediately understanding to pace herself faster. Hanno groaned loudly, grunting as he watched her bounce up at down.

He threw his head back, letting the primal, guttural moan escape his throat as he came to a faux finish.

“Come for me, woman.”

She had almost forgotten the ruse and felt herself clenching around nothing, but obeyed, propping her hand between her legs against his leg, throwing her head back as she let out a mewling cry that echoed against the stone walls.

They both panted, smiling, knowing that everyone outside had the best show without even seeing what had—or rather had not—happened.

“I shall carry you into the next room to lie you down,” Hanno whispered, pulling the linen that had fallen from her shoulder back up as the two of them stood.

“Why is that?” She had whispered back, face contorting slightly in confusion.

“If it were your first time, especially with me, you would not have the ability to walk.”

Albina blushed and nodded letting him pick her up bridal style and carry her out of the room. Her arms were draped around his neck, face tinted pink and buried into his bare chest. All the men looked at him with proud expressions, and looked at her slyly, thinking she had become a plaything to a violent man. One even made a muffled comment about how scared she must be to have been taken by a savage of Numidia.

Days and nights past quickly. Albina had not been forced to fight any longer, but Macrinus had let her stay with Hanno, who she now knew as Lucius.

“Consider it a prize for a job well done, Hanno.” Macrinus had smiled devilishly.

There were many other times when they would have to fake their way into being believable, but everyone seemed to believe it. Men would make comments to her when Lucius wasn’t around, but he would always find out and scare them to the point they would leave her alone. She waited on him hand and foot, hoping she could make it up to him for saving her life countless times.

It wasn’t long before he had told Ravi that he needed him to take his ring to a commander outside the city and bring his army to help him reclaim the throne.

She had wanted to fight alongside him, ready to lay her life down for the man that had risked his so many times for her, but Lucius insisted that she wait for him in the barracks until all was said and done. When he did return, he was covered in blood that she prayed was mostly that of another person. He carried her into the palace like he had after their first interaction when he discovered she was a woman.

“So I guess this is where we part ways, Lucius. I suppose I should call you Emperor now,” she held herself straight, trying not to look so downtrodden that this was their last interaction.

“Albina,” Lucius knelt down in front of her, her eyes blown wide that the new emperor bowed before her. “I have not known you long, but I cannot push this aside any longer. I am enthralled with you, captivated by you. I do not wish to fake our interactions any more. If you wish to leave, I will not stop you, but if, however, you wish to stay with me even the smallest bit, I want you by my side for eternity.

Albina teared up, a smile gracing her features. She nodded, making Lucius stand and pull her into a tender kiss. Within seconds, it grew rough and needy. He gripped the swell of her ass over her linen shift, cupping and squeezing, earning her to moan against his lips. He threw her over his shoulder, smacking lightly against her ass, and began carrying her as his hand lingered where he had spanked.

“Where are you taking me?” She giggled from atop his shoulder.

“My chambers. I’ve grown quite tired and irritable having to pretend to fuck you senseless; I prefer to have the real thing.”

She burned in her core and face, glad that he couldn’t see how flushed she was.

He placed her gently on the plush bed, crawling on top of her and reattached himself to her lips, grinding his clothed member into her stomach, making her whimper pathetically. He ripped the shift down the middle, revealing her breast and already erect nipples. He went down hungrily against one, teasing with his tongue while he toyed with the other breast with his hand.

“Lucius, p-please.” She cried, desperate to actually feel him after so long pretending.

He kissed down her scorched skin, making his way to her heat and lavishing her with his tongue, making her back arch from the bed as she moaned. He couldn’t suppress his either, groaning against her clit as he lapped her up, only pushing her further toward her climax.

“I’m so close,” she whispered shakily, a hand clenching at the plush pillows above her head. His head came up from between her legs, earning a disappointed sigh from Albina as she eyed him impatiently. He chuckled before disrobing, letting his hard cock spring forward. Albina looked at it wide eyed, taking in how thick he was and the bulging veins that led from the base all the way toward his swollen pink tip. She spread instinctively, feeling herself shake in anticipation and nervousness.

He hovered over her on his forearm, using his free hand to guide his bulge to her folds, tracing up and down with his tip against her. He looked her in the eyes as he stuck it in slowly, both of them gasping at the sensation. His thrusts stared slow and gentle, but he couldn’t hold himself back much longer and began pounding into her unforgivingly. She cried out, not caring who heard her, as she wrapped her trembling legs around his waist. He leaned down to kiss her, groaning against her lips.

“You feel better than I ever could have imagined,” he panted.

Her eyes rolled back in her head at the sound of his gruff voice. “Lucius, I’m so close I cannot take much more!”

Lucius used his free hand to grasp her by the throat, intensifying her pleasure. “Come all around my cock, dove. I want to feel you.”

She did as he commanded, the knot in her stomach finally snapping and letting the waves of pleasure wash over her. He was not far behind, his cock twitching from inside her, shooting ropes of cum across her insides. He removed himself from inside her, his seed spilling over out of her onto the linens. He collapsed on top of her, both of them panting to catch their breath as they looked each other in the eyes.

“Would you become my empress, Albina?” he breathed out.

She smiled wide, looking into his eyes with adoration. “As long as it is not a farce like we had to face in the gladiator rooms, I will do anything by your side.”

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stellabk · 6 months ago

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FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part VIII

Author’s note - Just wanted to say thank you to those of you that answered the poll :) I’m going to continue to write collections, but I already started on one individual about Lucius that I will post shortly after this. I’m pretty new to Tumblr since my main thing used to be Wattpad, but I think I like this better just bc of the lack of ads, so if you want dm me a request lets do it!

Summary - The married couple is warming up to each other slowly but surely. They, and the general, head out to seek out their vengeance against Deia’s father.

Warning(s) - slight nudity, sexual implications, violence; let me know if i missed anything as always

Deia stirred from the sound of her door opening. The room was too bright and her head throbbed. She pulled the pillow over her eyes and groaned.

”Good morning, my empress. I trust you slept well,” Aelia smirked, bringing over the usual breakfast of fruits and olives, bread and slices of meat.

”Ugh. I feel as if the Gods are punishing me.”

”Well you certainly had a busy evening last night.”

Deia uncovered her eyes slowly, looking at the smirk on Aelia’s face through squinted eyes, in an attempt to keep the harsh rays of light from making her feel worse. She looked around the room, noticing it wasn’t her own, then looked down at herself. She yanked the sheets quickly over her bare chest, Aelia stifling a giggle.

”I shall let you eat, then return with your clothing for the day. I suspect you need a long hour in the bathhouse this morning.”

Aelia made her way to the door, Deia still analyzing the unfamiliar surroundings. As she pulled the door open, Emperor Geta stepped in, smiling ear to ear.

“Good morning, darling,” he grinned impossibly wider. He took in her perplexed expression, an airy chuckle breezing past his pink lips. “I suppose you might be confused as to how you got here.”

Deia looked at all of the factors: the strange room, her headache, the feeling between her legs, the nakedness, and Luke mosaics lining the walls. Her brows furrowed as her frustration and mostly embarrassment rose. She eyed the pomegranates on her tray, picking one up as if to eat it, and chucked it at the emperor as hard as she could. He moved to the side, narrowly missing the flying fruit. He seemed very amused as he glanced at the squished pomegranate spattered across the floor.

“I must have done a poor job last night,” he quipped, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at his wife who still sat in bed, a furious expression gracing her still sleepy features. She grabbed the full butter knife from the tray, stepping efficiently and purposefully toward him. She forced him against the wall by the window with her forearm, holding the butter knife to his throat, and yet he still looked as if it were more entertaining than the Coliseum.

”Fucker. I’m going to kill you/“

“Father always said when a woman wants to kill you, you’re in business,” he smirked.

”I should rend your skin from you and rub your flesh with salt just for your commentary.”

”You speak to me so violently, yet I am still fully clothed.”

Deia looked down at herself, but only for a second. Her face had begun to burn with the realization she was still completely bare. She tried to physically shake the thought from her head, willing her guard to stay up as best she could muster.

Geta looked her in the eyes during this moment of weakness, the glinting from the cutlery reflecting the sunlight in his peripheral. He took his elbow, slamming it down on her wrist, the metal knife clinking against the floors as it fell.

”Sorry, darling, did that hurt?”

Deia’s eyes moved from the knife on the ground to his face, his expression concerned.

”Yes,” she spoke exasperatedly.

”I’m sorry, but your heart was not in it anyway; we do not wish to kill each other, and you do not wish to kill me.”

”At this moment, I fervently disagree,” she rubbed at her wrist, soothing the slight pain away. “How did I wind up in your bedchambers and not my own? Did you fill my food with dragon’s breath? Render me unconscious so guards could carry me in here so you could have your way?”

”No, Gods! I may be a tyrant, but I’m no monster, Deia. Do you really not remember a thing?”

Deia’s shoulders relaxed, looking at him as he ran a hand through the back of his hair.

”I apologize anyway. I didn’t really think you to be that drunk, I supposed you had a glass to steel your nerves and have something to blame the next morning. Clearly, my judgement was wrong,” he fell back on the bed, sitting over the edge and slumping to bring his forehead into his palm almost dumbfounded.

”You… you speak the truth?” Deia stripped a sheet from the bed to cover herself before standing in front of her husband, Geta looking up at her like he hadn’t slept all night and nodded.

“Did we… we didn’t. Did we?” She fiddled with the edge of the linen that she had lazily draped over herself.

”I assured you when you came here that I would not do anything that you did not beg for.”

The silence lingered as she stared at a loose string in the linen, twisting it around her finger. “Was it any good?”

Geta’s eyes shot to her once more, taking in the hue of her cheeks. He barked out a laugh, wiping over his face with his hand.

”It is not funny! Forget I said anything,” she huffed, making her way toward the door to leave with what little pride she had left. Geta grabbed her forearm, still sitting on the bed.

”What?” She looked at him with her cheeks puffed, irritated.

”It was heavenly. I’ve never heard such beautiful noises. I felt as if I drank the sweetest wine and ate Venus herself.”

Deia bit the inside of her cheek, praying that she would have control over her already heated cheeks, realizing her prayers were in vain by the smug look on Geta’s face.

“Well, thank you for the reprieve, emperor. If you’ll excuse me, I would like to leave while i still possess some dignity.”

Geta chuckled as the door slammed behind Deianira, shaking his head, unable to understand the woman he had wed.

General Marcus Acacius returned to Rome just as Geta and Caracalla had said, and was instructed on what to do as soon as he arrived back. Deia only knew since she had eavesdropped from behind the door, hearing the deal that if he were to do this, he could miss the games in the Coliseum and spend every night for the next month with his wife, so he agreed almost happily. The general rode on a black steed without blemish, two cloaked figures on matching white horses behind him, and a bushel of soldiers following. They slowed in the village, taking in the people running into their homes to avoid another incident like they had endured the first time the Roman militia had come to their quaint part of town.

”Sir, we are in search of Publius. Where would he be at this moment?” Acacius stopped a man from the market. The man was visibly shaken, but stood bravely despite it. His eyes stared unfazed at the general, one of them with a long scar from his brow down to his cheekbone. The burly man pointed a thick finger toward the building in the back of town where Deianira was never permitted to go. The disguised figure atop the white horse dropped a handful of coins to the merchant. “Take care of yourself, Atticus.”

The merchant’s eyes followed the hooded figure and the rest of the army, wondering why he felt so at ease and familiar with the stranger.

The small building the man had described was very unkempt, the bricks and cement holding it together chipping at the corners and making it look uninhabited. Giggles and strange noises could be heard from inside, a noise that struck an awareness for what the place was into most of the people led by Marcus. One of the disguised turned red as if smeared in pomegranate, not going unnoticed by the other cloaked person.

The general hopped from his horse gracefully, knocking on the door with a booming fist.

A woman with a sloppy stola emerged behind the door, her lips swollen and reddened, her kohl on her eyes smeared and a distinct, indescribable scent emerged from her.

“It’s not everyday that we receive Roman soldiers in our little slice of the Heavens. You and your men must have heard splendid things about us.

“We are in search of Publius. We know he is here.”

The woman perked up, almost scared stiff. “I will send him out momentarily.”

She retreated inside, scurrying and things rattling about could be heard inside before the door opened once again.

Publius emerged just as disheveled as the woman before. “Ah, general. I presume you have brought me the militia I was promised.”

”Something along those lines.”

Soldiers surrounded Deia’s father, grabbing him by the arms and binding his wrists.

“What is the meaning of this, Acacius?! This goes against the deal struck!”

”I beg to differ, Publius,” Geta removed his hood and jumped from the horse to swagger closer to his empress’s father, looking down on him. “I promised to protect your quaint little village and to send militia if need be for them. I am delivering on that promise at this moment.”

”You snake! If my daughters discover what you’ve done, if your wife discovers, she will cut your head from your body. She still believes in a grand revolt, and what better start than taking her father?”

”Tut tut, I thought you knew me smarter than that, dear Publius,” the second hooded figure pushed back her veil just enough to bring light to the shadows that shrouded her face.

“Deianira. Whatever poison this tyrant has whispered in your ear, you mustn’t believe it!”

“Actually, this was of your own undoing.” She tossed the letters at his feet in the dirt. “You will fight in the Coliseum against our gladiators tomorrow for your crime of wishing harm to your emperor.” She hopped from the horse and stood a few feet from her father.

”My own daughter, corrupted with power. If you were no bastard child, I would be impressed.”

”You dare insult one of your empresses of Rome? Do you wish for greater punishment?” Geta spat in his face.

”Once the city discovers her origins and how she was the one who slayed her mother, she will be empress no longer.”

“I’ve heard enough from this traitor. Take him, general.” Deianira turned her back against her father.

Publius fought against the soldier's hold, freeing himself, and pushing his daughter against the ground, dagger to her throat.

”You will die for this treachery, you daughter of a whore!”

She cried out, her brows furrowing and teeth gritting harshly in fury as she brought her knee to his groin and flipping him on his back in his vulnerability.

”Go ahead: kill me like you did to your mother, devil woman!” He yelled, spitting on her cheek.

”I won’t need to. You shall die in the Coliseum at the hands of my gladiators, and no one will remember or mourn your name.”

Soldiers grabbed him, more of them holding him now.

“For your attack on my wife’s life, however, I believe an eye for an eye shall suffice. You will never raise your hand to your empress ever again.” Geta stepped beside his wife, handing her his prized shortsword. Deianira turned the blade over in her hand, letting all her rage forge into it and make it stronger.

Soldiers raised his arms toward their empress, Publius pleading screams at his child. She raised the sword above her head, cutting his right hand off and watching it fall out the ground, the creams of agony not even heard to her ears from the adrenaline.

”Why not both hands, my life? Do you not wish to see him slaughtered in the arena?”

”Oh, dear husband, I do, I assure you. Taking his dominant hand and leaving him one to defend himself shall be my last mercy to him.”

”I do love your benevolence, dear wife,” Geta placed his hand on the small of his empress’s back, looking at her as if he could never be more in love. Guards led Publius toward Rome while Geta helped his wife back on her horse, as the militia left town as if they’d never been there.

The emperor and empress ate dinner together, the long banquet table keeping them what felt like a mile apart. Geta lifted his plate and cup, making his way to her end of the table, the unmistakable smile on his wife’s lips making his heart jump in his chest.

“Why do you wear that smirk? Am I not permitted to sit next to my lovely wife?”

Deia chuckled, “You are the emperor; you may do as you please.”

”Ah, but you forget you are the empress and can will me away. However,” he leaned his cheek against his fist as he gazed at her with a large grin, “I think you are beginning to enjoy my company.”

”I’ll never tell, Imperator.”

”There is no need for you to… your eyes tell it all.”

Deianira rolled her eyes, looking back to her plate of food, memories had been resurfacing from that one intoxicated night lately, and she could feel the heat in her body swell, as this was one of those moments. She always kept calm, trying not to show it, but even she knew it made her more docile and pleasant to have around…

She would never admit that though, especially to Geta.

”I hear no denial, empress,” he scooted his chair closer to her making her smile grow, a tint of pink entering her cheeks, but not the kind from embarrassment, but the blush that showed her happiness. It suited her, the emperor thought.

”I suppose… I do enjoy being around you in the slightest,” she mumbled, trying to hide her smile and failing as she took a bite of the dessert on her plate.

They sat in comfortable silence as they ate, unable to wipe the grins from their faces as they stole glances at each other.

”Your father… he wished to see us both after we’ve finished our meal.” Geta’s face had finally become somber, his wife’s soon matching his.

“We may as well go now. After all, hearing about him has spoiled my appetite.”

Deia and Geta stood at the top of the staircase that led down into the dungeons. Geta grabbed his wife’s hand, looping around his arm and placing his hand on top of hers. He gave her a reassuring smile before they both started their descent.

”So you did come to see me before I met my demise,” her father hung on the bars, looking exhausted and as if he had already been attacked.

”What do you want, father?”

”I wanted to let your husband know what you are,” he smirked, spitting on the ground at his daughters feet. “Her mother was a whore; your wife is no more my daughter than you are my son.”

”You dare speak about your empress that way? Do you crave an early death out of fear for what awaits you in the arena?” Geta boomed, immediately stopping at the touch of his wife’s hand against his chest.

”He speaks the truth, emperor.” Deia didn’t look at the emperor out of shame.

”her mother claimed that Mars descended from the Heavens. She was a beautiful creature, but not one enough to tempt the Gods.”

Geta listened with a furrowed brow, glancing his wife’s way, waiting for her to contradict her father, yet she never did, and she never looked back at him.

”Her mother died giving birth to the bastard child you married. I believe it to be the Gods’ way of dealing punishment for such hubris.”

Deia lunged at her father through the bars, grabbing him by the collar and pulling his head directly into the bars, rendering him unconscious. She stared at him, letting out a gruff exhale before walking away. Geta followed after her, trying to keep up with her quick pace.

”Deia, there is no way that all he spoke of was truth,” he grabbed her forearm, stopping her.

”It is, and he never let me forget it. I understand if you do not wish me to be your wife anymore, emperor.”

”Darling, no… to be honest, Caracalla and I did the same to our mother. I do not judge you for things you could not control, but why not tell me?”

”Why would I? I was ashamed of it, Geta I… I thought you would think me unworthy of the title of empress. Of the title of your wife,” she turned to him, brows knitted together in frustration.

“I think,” he grabbed her hand to pull her closer, “that any woman with Mars’s blood flowing through her veins is fit to be worshipped as more than an empress.”

Deia relaxed, shoulders losing their tension as she filled with relief.

”If I’d have known sooner you were daughter of Mars, you wouldn’t have been empress, though,” he said as they walked back up the stairs. Deia’s gaze shot to him, fear in her eyes.

”Really?”

”Of course not. You would have been head of all the wars in the name of the Roman Empire. We could use the God of War’s powers in this monarchy,” he smirked.

Deia shoved him with a smile, Geta pulling her into his side and planting a tender kiss to the top of her head.

#damn he fine #raw next question #emperor geta #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta x fem reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta x reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 smut #gladiator ii #gladiator ii smut

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stellabk · 6 months ago

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I couldn’t sleep last night. May have wrote a Lucius Verus fic. Not a series, just a one off kinda thing…

May post it, may not. What do y’all think?

ALSO LOOK AT THIS FUCKIN PIC

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stellabk · 6 months ago

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Also thinking of writing some individual fics so just curious if y’all would be down 😊

#fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #smut #fluff #lemon #emperor geta #emperor geta fanfic #emperor geta fanfiction #emperor geta x fem reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor geta x reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator 2 smut #gladiator ii #gladiator ii smut

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stellabk · 6 months ago

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FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part VII

Author’s note - hi everyone! I did end up working Christmas shifts since I can barely afford gas so thank you for your patience. I hope this chapter was worth the wait though!

Summary - Deianira finally lets herself be as chaotic as she craves, interrupting a party held by the two emperors, in which Geta offers her some devastating news and a gruesome solution.

Warning(s) - historical inaccuracies, mentions of violence, female receiving oral, nudity, smut, drunk sexual actions; let me know if I missed any warnings or made any grammatical errors

”Do not fret, I can get my own door.”

Deia pushed the door so hard it hit the walls, an echoing boom to resonate within. All chatter died, and everyone stood to stare at the door. The empress bowed to her friend before walking inside. Peoples’ eyes followed her as she made her way through, hushed whispers of people talking about the audacity of the empress, and that the emperor and she were very alike. While one older woman whispered, Deianira snatched the chalice of wine from her hand bowing as she took a sip from it and continued her trek toward the emperor's thrones. She saw her sister perched on the lap of Caracalla, running fingers over the monkey that sat against the armrest.

”Emperor Caracalla,” she bowed deeply, turning to Geta. “Husband,” she sipped from the wine, staring down at him as she stood straight and unmoving.

“I see you are getting more used to being in the palace, sister.” Caracalla smirked as he watched his in-law perch herself on the armrest of Geta’s throne. “You’ve turned out to be untamable, despite my brother’s beliefs upon meeting you.”

Geta scoffed from behind Deia, making her turn. “Does your brother’s statement amuse you?”

“Indeed it does. All horse trainers know when breaking a stallion, you need the proper time, which I have not yet been given.”

“Am I a steed now? I thought I was a snake.”

“Then I shall become the snake charmer for you, dearest,” he smiled up at her, noticing her thumb running over something nervously in her palm. Hw stayed silent as he stalked her motions, asking a servant to refill her wine, downing half of the chalice’s contents in one sip. He ripped the trinket from her hand, turning it over in his own, holding it out of her reach when she made a dash to retrieve back what she had lost.

“I see you enjoy my gift. Quite the odd little trinket, I must say.”

“If you think it so odd,” she snatched it back, holding it to her chest, “then why snatch it from me? Better yet, why purchase something like this for me? You’re not falling for me, are you, emperor?”

“You would enjoy it too much if I had, dear wife,” he shifted, trying to regain composure, not going unnoticed by the three others sitting around him.

“No, I am sure that must be the case. After all, you went out of your way to ruin perfectly good linens when we have never once laid with one another.”

His face dropped slightly, his signature smirk gone and his posture became almost physically rigid. “Where have you heard this?”

”Ah, so I do possess the ability to get under your skin. And why tell you when you will slaughter the one who conveyed the message? I have no reason to dispose of such a kind hearted soul.”

He gripped her face with his fingers, squishing her cheeks together and pulled her closer to him. “You will tell me or my brother will bed your sister, make her beg for her own release, just to throw her in the Coliseum as a prize.”

”If you do anything to my sister, you will watch my knife plunge into your chest and rip your heart from it. You shall be the one begging for release.”

The stare down between the two was deadly. Caracalla watched amusedly while sipping from his cup while Publia held back tears. The silence was broken by Geta’s laugh and his smirk was back on his face. “Ah, wife, how I love our little spats. You shall keep me on my toes until our last breaths.”

Geta picked her up by the hips to sit her back on the armrest, then stood, walking from the room.

Deia stood to follow, not far behind him as she jogged after him out the door. Once she was in the hall, she saw his back walking several feet in front of her toward his bedchamber.

“Why me?” She shouted after him, still walking closer as if walking toward a carnivore.

He turned slowly to look at her, moonlight hitting his pale features and making him appear as if he were glowing.

“I do not understand why it had to be me you chose to marry, so I ask you this, hoping your answer can relieve the pain of not knowing: why me?”

”I tire of concealing the truth from you, even though I have fought against your stubbornness to try and tell you… do you know what your father did? He sold both of you to my brother and I. That woman you slaughtered for in front of the temple? She has been a runaway from the monarchy for over a decade. You may think I am the villain, but your father is who you should look upon with the disgust you give me!” He shouted bitterly, stepping so he was directly in her face.

Deianira froze, eyes wide and brimming with tears though she refused to let them spill. “No, he would never do that. He loved us. I-I mean… he loved my sister, but he would never have sold her off. It cannot be.”

For the first time since meeting Emperor Geta, his eyes showed that he was sympathetic. He motioned for her to follow, and once she was beside him, he linked arms with her stroking the back of her hand.

They walked in silence for what felt like the whole night, even if it was only a few short minutes. He let go of her arm and she immediately missed the warmth. He beckoned her inside, placing his hand on the small of her back as she entered. The office was dimly lit by the moonlight and a few oil lanterns that he had lit after entering.

“These letters are those that I exchanged with your father prior to your retrieval. He promised both of you in exchange for the safety of your village.”

Deianira looked at the notes and pacing around the room, reading over them and confirming all of what the emperor said was true: your father had traded you like livestock, giving a dowry as well, to protect your village and receive a good portion of soldiers to expand in the name of Rome. The notes included that Deia would never go willingly and there would have to be some kind of ultimate purpose for her travels.

The whole rebellion was a sham.

Deia had her back to Geta as she finished reading the several notes, completely still.

”Little snake?”

She couldn’t speak. The words were caught in her throat and she tried to force back those tears.

”Deia. Look at me.”

She turned slowly, forcing her head up as if it weighed 100 pounds. She finally looked him in the eyes, the tears she fought against with every fiber of herself snapping once she saw his eyes.

He rushed to her, embracing her tightly as his hands snaked and hugged at her lower back, one cradling the back of her head. She didn’t want to fight him… she didn’t have the energy to right now. She curled her arms around his neck and buried her face into his chest.

”Must you pity me, Emperor? Must you make me feel as if I am nothing once again?”

”My darling, I do not pity you to make you feel like nothing. I wish to give you back the power you felt prior to knowing what you do now.”

She pulled away from his chest, looking up into his eyes. “Simply because you are emperor, does not mean that you may give my spirit the relief it desires.”

”Because I am emperor, I have the power to give you anything that you and your sister could ever want, even the intangible.” He stroked the tears away from her cheeks with the rough edge of his thumb. “Is it vengeance you want?”

”Would it matter? You have vowed to protect the village.”

There was a comforting quiet as Geta mulled over what he could do in his conniving way. His eyes sparked and his smirk danced on his peach colored lips. “You are right, little snake… but I never vowed to protect him.”

The morning after the party, Deia woke before the sun had peeked over the horizon. She was antsy to the point that she couldn’t wait for Aelia, opting to dress herself and even style her own hair.

Deia walked quickly out the door and toward the dining hall where she knew Caracalla and Geta dined. Aelia walked past her, having to do a double take.

”Empress? Do you not need me to prepare you for today?”

Deia skirted to a stop, turning to face Aelia. “No, thank you, I have some rather urgent business. Take the day to yourself.”

Before the servant could even bow or utter the words ‘thank you,” Deianira had begun walking away.

Guards stood at the entryway of the dining hall, Deia peeking through the sliver between the armored men, spotting her husband and his brother at the table. She pushed through the guards and stopped in front of Emperor Geta, waiting for his eyes to notice her before she bowed.

”Wife! What a pleasant surprise. Please, sit. After all, this is your first time dining with us,” Geta smiled at his bride, taking notice of how she fidgeted with her fingers. She nodded sitting beside her husband, Emperor Caracalla across from them, handing singular grapes to Dondus as the primate perched on his shoulder. Servants rushed to fill her chalice with wine and serve her a golden plate with fruits, meats, and breads almost pouring over the edges.

”What brings my ravishing sister-in-law to dine with us? Do you wish for someone’s head?” Caracalla smiled at her angelically, his words a stark contradiction to his features. The monkey cooed as if understanding his master’s words, delighted almost as much as the emperor he sat upon.

”Actually, brother, yes. I have asked Empress Deianira to attend this morning to see what we should do with her father for treacherous actions, and who better to deal righteous bloodshed unto someone than you?” Geta perched his chin on folded hands, turning to face his bride.

”I was hoping to be granted permission to throw him into the Coliseum, with the next tournament approaching in a few days time,” Deia’s face was calm, though her heart raced, unable to believe that such violent words had left her mouth.

Caracalla’s smile grew wide and childlike, his entire body perking up at the suggestion. “Sister, I am honored you’ve become so impressionable by us,” he clapped. “Throw him in, string his entrails in the streets as decor, claim him as Christian and crucify him in front of the entire city if you wish it. I will give my full support for your bloody endeavor.”

Geta smiled, grabbing his wife’s hand on the table and stroking against her palm with his thumb. “It is settled then: when General Acacius returns to us the dawn of the day before the great show, we will send him to fetch your father. It shall give you just enough time to think of how you wish him to meet his demise.”

Deia smiled, genuine as shocking as it was, and looked at her husband’s eyes. It felt like the first time, but she felt as if she saw sparks of like for the first time, unlike the blank mask of feigning care. This time, he supported her wholeheartedly, and she could tell just by his stare.

Deia sat at the dining table that night surrounded by people she considered strangers—her husband and brother in law’s attendance missing—her eighth, maybe ninth, chalice emptied. Everything was blurred and felt like she was moving in slow motion. She stood to her feet abruptly, startling Aelia and making the wine bottle in her hands stumble a bit before she stabilized it.

“Empress? Are you alright?”

Deia turned quickly. “I wish to go see my husband.”

Deia took deliberate and surprisingly straight steps for how intoxicated she had become over supper. Her footsteps echoed against the stone floor as she rounded corners and approached a door.

Emperor Geta’s door.

She knocked, hearing the familiar voice muffled from the other side.

“Enter.”

He had yet to look up, glancing over papers at a desk in his open robe that revealed his chest and some of his torso, as she shut the door behind her. The soft click brought his head up, his indifference morphing into surprise as he stood.

”Deia, I suspected you to be in bed at this hour.”

”I do not care for sleep at the moment,” she walked toward his bed, eyeing the perverse murals against the walls depicting couples in various positions: one with a woman’s legs by her ears as the man held them and thrusted into her, a woman who sat upon the face of a man as he stroked himself, and one with the woman on all fours as her companion was behind, to name a few. It brought a smirk to her lips.

”What do you want then?” He stood behind her, Deia turning slowly enough not to stumble so she was facing him. She said nothing, but her eyes had portrayed to Geta precisely what he had wanted to know.

”Darling, you’re drunk.”

”And that matters? Were we not wed in front of the Gods and all of the court?” She smirked as she placed a finger to his chest, trailing it in 8’s against his chest. “Do you not wish to bed me?”

”My desires go far beyond a bed, darling wife.”

”What would you like to do to me, imperator? Do you wish to try every mural on this wall with me?”

”Careful, little snake. You push me closer to my limits,” he smirked, attempting to move away toward the window on the left side of his bed. Deia grabbed his forearm and yanked him downward, his side collapsing onto the linens.

”Show me how the great tyrant claims his whores,” her eyes were dark. Geta looked up at the ceiling, swallowing a lump in his throat and mentally scolding himself for even thinking about all of the ways he could make her squirm. Geta felt something scorching his cool skin, his head shooting down to see his wife’s tongue skating over his exposed flesh. He watched with breath caught in his throat, still holding tightly to the sliver of restraint he held to, as she grew closer and closer, now licking along his neck and jawline. Her face was mere inches from his, a wicked grin like a cat playing on her lips as she bit at her lip and let out a chuckle, her hand connecting with the bulge under his robes. He grabbed her face, his resolve shattering and pulling her lips into his ferociously, still tasting the rich burgundy wine on her tongue. He groaned against her lips as she caressed his cock, unable to control himself at the burning touch of her hand. He pulled away from her quickly, taking both of his hands and ripping the fabric of the stola she wore right down the middle, pouncing back onto her like a tiger with his prey. He trailed kisses down her neck, noticing the way her back arched when he kissed a specific spot, and stopped there to suck at her skin and make her whimper loudly.

He flipped her onto her back, hovering over her as he kissed her, his left hand coming up to fondle her breast. He felt how quickly her chest rose at the sensation, pulling away from her lips and looked down at her with the same smirk she wore moments ago. He hovered his mouth over her other breast, teasing the nipple with his toungue and occasionally his teeth. She groaned without shame, the alcohol not allowing her to worry about if others listened from the outside. Geta pulled away, looking down at her exasperated expression.

”Why did you stop?” Deia panted as he chest rose and fell rapidly, the markings against her neck and breasts red and pleasing to behold in Geta’s sight.

”You wished to act out the murals. I intend to show you,” he pulled the remaining strips of cloth from around her waist, discarding it on the floor, and pushed her legs up by her head. Not taking his eyes from hers, he crouched down once more so his eyes peeked over the apex of her abdomen. He blew against her womanhood making her jolt and release a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. He licked a flat stripe up her core, earning a harmonious, sexy sound, urging him to go further. He circled her clit slowly with pressure, making her legs that she now rested upon his shoulders quiver. He prodded her entrance with his pointer finger, pushing inside as she grew louder, now gripping a fistful of his hair. He groaned against her core at the sensation in his scalp sending the vibrations into Deianira. She felt the knot in her stomach being pulled more taught with every movement of his tongue and fingers. She was on the very edge of her climax as Geta inserted another of his digits, curling them slightly to hit the sensitive spot within her. The tightly wound chord within her snapped and began unraveling, her thighs pushing together against the emperor’s head. He kept his pace as she shook against him from the climax.

He lifted as she came down, panting for air and droplets of sweat glistening on her chest in the moonlight.

“Get some rest, snake. I shall sleep elsewhere,” Geta stood, pulling his robe to be more closed. He felt her grip, looking down at where she held onto his forearm as she lie in the bed still uncovered and bare to him.

”Stay. Please,” she smiled, sending a pang through the emperor looking down at that genuine smile he had craved when he saw her with Claudia. He nodded, climbing into bed beside her, Deia’s hold on his arm not faltering. She fell asleep in moments, Geta admiring how the moon made her shine like the Goddess Venus in his bed, before he himself allowed slumber to pull him in.

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stellabk · 6 months ago

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FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part VI

Author’s Note - this one is a lil short with Christmas around the corner and I also may not be able to post Wednesday since the restaurant I work at is still open Christmas Day T^T after that though I will post a longer part than normal

Summary - Deia takes her new friend’s advice and becomes the thorn in her husband’s side

Warning(s) - didn’t really see many; let me know if you see missed warnings or grammatical errors let me know!

”Do not fret, I can get my own door.”

”Emperor Caracalla,” she bowed deeply, turning to Geta. “Husband,” she sipped from the wine, staring down at him as she stood straight and unmoving.

Geta scoffed from behind Deia, making her turn. “Does your brother’s statement amuse you?”

“Indeed it does. All horse trainers know when breaking a stallion, you need the proper time, which I have not yet been given.”

“Am I a steed now? I thought I was a snake.”

“I see you enjoy my gift. Quite the odd little trinket, I must say.”

“You would enjoy it too much if I had, dear wife,” he shifted, trying to regain composure, not going unnoticed by the three others sitting around him.

“No, I am sure that must be the case. After all, you went out of your way to ruin perfectly good linens when we have never once laid witch one another.”