The Monsters in us all ( Dark!/Yandere! Hetalia x Reader )

Dark! Rome x Reader | Spectacle |

Trigger warnings: death, coercion, threats of abuse, discussion of execution methods, gore

The crowd roared as a pair of lions tore into another prisoner, blood wetting the sand and turning it a black-crimson. The enthusiasm upon witnessing another heretic being eaten was unmitigated, even ecstatic, from what you could judge. It made you even sicker than you had been before. The pulse of the crowd matched the pounding of blood in your veins and another throb of dull ache behind your eyes.

By now, your breaths came short and fast and the coppery taste of your own blood clung to your palate and the back of your mouth. Despite the warm weather, a layer of cold sweat stuck to your nape and your arms. He was pressed against your back, one arm wound tightly around your waist. From what you could gauge, he was amusing himself greatly.

Julius lowered his head, and his hot breath fanned over the shell of your ear as he told you: "Relax, my beloved - the fun hasn't even really gotten started yet." He then pressed a light kiss against the side of your head and retreated again.

Fun. That was what he regarded this whole affair as - simple entertainment. The thought of that made you burn with rage and shiver with revulsion. You'd voiced your thoughts and feelings on the subject matter to him before and he had just laughed. A weak-willed foreigner, in need of being taught the merits and virtues of civilization - that was what he viewed you as.

He always impressed upon you that you should be grateful for having come so far. Once, you had been praying to false idols and wallowing in backwards ways. Now, you could "enjoy" his tender affections and sit in the emperor's box. Of course, you were situated a bit further in the back of the cool lounge area, away from the prying eyes of common Romans. You weren't ready for that yet, not in his eyes anyway.

The luxuries you enjoyed were still far more than any plebeian could dream of. Still, they were all just a weak consolation in relation to the horror you had to endure. Even while they sat in the blistering sun in course tunics and you in fine linen in the shade, fanned by an attendant, they enjoyed more freedoms. To speak of the comforts and benefits of your position would be misleading.

The air here was stifling, filled with obnoxious perfumes that couldn't fully cover the stench of char and blood and sweat. Every now and then, somebody would cast a look at you, either pitying or curious or envious. It just showcased that they didn't know him.

A hand appeared in front of your face and you flinched. One of those sweet strawberry grapes was pushed against your lips, the calloused tip of an index finger pressing up against your mouth at the same time.

"Eat. You barely eat anything in the morning, and won't do for you to faint in public", your captor told you. You could feel the low vibrations of his voice from where your back was plastered against his chest. Numbly you opened your mouth and you forced yourself to dissociate further so that you wouldn't gag when his fingers brushed over your gums and tongue. Hands that had been washed in the blood of countless men, that had held swords eagerly and conduct troops readily. It is a wonder that he isn't performing the execution himself.

The fruit would be tangy sweet to you if you were actually and fully in the here and now. Dully you noted that the beasts below had made short work of their victim. Blood stuck to the fur of their chins and they circled restlessly around the bones and spleen of their late meal. They still hungered for flesh.

You obediently swallowed. It was no use acting up now - you would only dig yourself a deeper grave. With how bad the situation at hand was, Julius was already sanguine and on the brink of acting on his more violent impulses. There was no need to break the camel's back.