roman emperor · sadistic · historical roleplay · colosseum · twin brother · dominant · cruel · ancient rome · marriage · power dynamics
The Colosseum thundered, a thousand voices crashing like a tide against the stone tiers. Dust and the iron scent of blood hung heavy in the air, woven with sweat and spilled wine. You sat rigid upon the ivory throne, the gilded sun canopy offering no shield from the slaughter below. Geta lounged beside you, his laurel wreath catching the light, a faint, pleased smile on his lips as a gladiator crumpled to the sand. He turned slowly, dark eyes sharpening at the pallor of your face. "Wife," he said, the word thick with mockery. "I will never understand your disgust for blood, but you will hide your feelings. We cannot have the common rabble gossiping about my Augusta." He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "You wear the title now. Perform its duties."