#Military Uniform Princess | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kamiversee · 3 months ago

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𓆩 Crown of Sin 𓆪

Segment I Chapter: One

❀ ~ Synopsis > In which you’re a princess who's given a total of six months to converge & inaugurate a solid plan secure enough to rid you of your fated marriage arrangements to Naoya Zenin.

❀ ~ Content > language, arranged marriage, tension from all over, bickering, mentions of a harem, etc.

❀ ~ Word Count > 5.6k

❀ ~ Pairings > jjk men & women x f!reader.

{ chapters m!list }

——You would rather die a thousand times over than become Naoya Zenin’s wife.

Something unorthodox must’ve plagued the mind of your parents this morning because there is simply no way they’d worked up such an audacity to happily relay this information to you. You were to be wed in six months time and yet, this is your first time hearing of such a proposal.

Hell, you hadn’t even received a literal proposal from this alleged fiancé of yours so, who exactly was orchestrating such a wedding and why had you no say nor awareness in it before now?

“You two are humoring me right now, yes?” Your voice had carried throughout the space of the throne room with such grace that all the attendees of this rather small gathering couldn’t help but have their eyes drawn to you.

The few maids, guards at their posts within the room, your own mother and father who sat oh-so-comfortably upon their thrones, and the few others who were allowed to be in this space as such information was presented to you. Being the one to have ripped the bandage off and relayed said information to you recently, your mother cannot help but find her eyes drifting over to her husband for help.

The two exchange a knowing glance and you watch as they swallow down whatever nerves may have rested center in their throats. Then, your father’s shoulders raise ever so slightly and he averts his eyes over to you.

Voicing your name in that aged gruff tone of his, followed by a slight clearing of his throat, he begins to break the wafted air of silence. “You must understand that this is for the betterment of our nation. We rival none aside from the eastern nation so, naturally, it is only in our best interest to have you wed with the heir to the Zenin family throne.”

You scoff, openly. Eyes widen around the room and looks are exchanged by many but how do people expect you to react to this? Are you meant to be joyous about marrying the most pompous individual across all the lands, a man of which you have only ever encountered maybe two or three times in all your years of living?? Yeah, fuck that.

“So, I am meant to marry this man in six months' time, the engagement will be officially announced at tonight’s ball, and I haven’t a single say in this entire ordeal?” You breathe out carefully, your head tilting and eyes narrowing at the worried eyes of your parents.

Your mother responds with a shaky sigh, “Darling, we hadn’t any choice in this either. Our only options were to marry you off or go to war and we do not have the defenses to—”

“They threatened us?” You interrupt, another act that receives appalled looks from those spectating. “Please tell me you jest, mother. What could the East possibly hope to gain from going to war with us? We’ve been at peace for years and now all of a sudden—”

“Permission to speak,” Chimes another voice. Your eyes flick to your father’s left, landing on the one man he trusts with his life more than anyone else, your nation’s military general; Masamichi Yaga. “Your Highness.” He finishes off, gaze firm on the area of which you stand.

You take a moment to stare, taking in his roughened appearance despite the uniform that fits him so snuggly. Without realizing it, your eyes rake over his form up and down about twice before he clears his throat to break your lingering stare. “Granted,” You eventually allow with a nod of your head.

Yaga straightens up where he stands and exchanges a look of knowing with your father before he speaks loud and clear, “You are the princess of the second largest nation in our continent.” He states with a slightly quirked brow.

Which prompts you only to roll your eyes a bit.

“I believe you out of anyone else should understand the natural target that is placed on your back. Especially considering you are also the only princess in said continent. You’ve been at the age liable for marriage for a few years now and the reality of this has finally set in. The marriage itself is to join the East nation and the West into one. Should you refuse Naoya’s hand, he would simply join the two nations by…” A slight grimace is noticed within his expression, “Force.”

Yet another scoff falls softly from your lips, “You say this to me as if he is incapable of marrying a man. Surely, someone like Prince S—”

“Now is not the time to joke, my lady.” Yaga interrupts as gently as he can, “He could very well go on and marry into one of the other royal families but they do not rule over our nation, now do they? The east is the largest of them all, our sole rival. Do you not see the importance of this marriage taking place? It is either that or war and, as our queen has so clearly told you, we do not have the defenses to—”

“And what of the other nations? The north? The south? Hell, even the smallest out there; Middom? Is it not possible for us to rally our defenses with them and..” Your voice trails to an eventual fall as you notice the look on Yaga’s face. He doesn’t even have to cut you off this time for you to realize this conversation isn’t going anywhere.

You exhale and turn to your royal adviser who’s at your right side. Wide-set eyes and all, Higuruma merely offers you a nod of his head to silently console you. Like everyone else in this damn room, he was pleading for you to simply let this go and follow along with things like some pawn in everyone else’s game.

“You would rather go to war and risk the lives of thousands than marry this man?” Yaga adds on to question.

Your lips quirked and you looked at him again, “Do you want my honest answer to that?”

“No, I would like your noble answer.” He replies dryly.

“Tch.” You huff, your face flattening. “Of course I would do anything to avoid war, I am not cruel. But I do hope all of you realize what joint nations entail for our future—their laws and customs will be indoctrinated into our society overnight. And if you think I will have any influence over that then you clearly know not of the man I am to marry. The words of a woman carry no weight with him.”

Your father is the next to speak up, “We are well aware of what this means for our future. But, it is either that or… death.”

With a crisp, yet obviously faux smile, you nod to that. “Right. Well, if that is all,” You begin to bow your head for respect, “Mother, Father, I shall excuse myself.”

Then you swivel around to make your exit, only to be stopped by the queen’s voice once more. “That is all?” She asks.

You paused in your steps but did not turn back to face her. “I’m unsure of what other argument you expect from me, mother. I either marry him or we go to war, what more could I possibly say to that?”

The sound of her sighing can be heard. It was almost as though she’d truly expected or maybe even anticipated a longer refute from you. “...Just,” Her words come out in a slow fashion and you get the feeling that she may be able to read your thoughts. “None of your schemes tonight, please? If you’re truly on board with this then don’t do anything brash—”

“I wouldn’t dare.” You cut off rather rudely, turning slightly to then cut your eye at her. “Now, if you will excuse me.”

No more words are exchanged as you hastily make your way out of the room, only the sounds of your heels echoing through the large archways and halls heard as you do so.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

Moments after you’d made your exit, two people had now taken your sides and followed rather closely behind you. Too nervous to say anything just yet, they both simply follow your hurried steps toward wherever you were off to without a word.

One was your knight, who’d always followed close behind you since your teenage days, willing to throw herself into the face of death at any given moment simply for your sake. Tall, fit, blond, with a set of brown eyes any person could easily find themself lost in, stood Yuki Tsukumo proudly wearing that pristine royal guard uniform as her steps mirrored your own in speed.

Beside her was that pleasant royal advisor of yours, Higuruma Hiromi. Also quite tall (who wasn’t these days), wide, tired eyes, and a voice that typically drives you insane with annoyance given the number of lectures you’d received by it—he was careful to trail after you, given all that’d recently transpired.

It’s a long walk of silence before your beloved knight breaks it. “I assume things went unwell back there?” Yuki hums cautiously as she fully takes your right side, leaving Higuruma slightly behind you.

“Your assumption would be correct,” You huff almost instantly as if you’d been waiting for either of them to say something to you. “I am to be wed in six months.”

Seeing as Yuki wasn’t exactly in the room while things were explained to you, she’d hardly a clue as to what had you pacing down the halls in such a determined fashion as you did currently. “Wed? Six months?? To whom?” She rushed out in alarm, her expression quick to contort into deep concern and alarm.

“The heir to the Zenin throne,” You say with a long sigh following shortly after.

“You can say his name y’know,” Higuruma comments before appropriately taking your left side.

You roll your eyes, “I would rather drop dead.”

At that, his feet come to a sudden halt and you and Yuki follow suit. “My lady, I know you are not fond of your… situation, but, what else can we do by this point? He will officially propose tonight and unless you can find another prince to do so before him in the next few hours then—”

It was like a literal lightbulb had gone off above that tiara-adorned head of yours, sparking Yuki’s eyes to rake over the excitement that washed against your features.

“Oh my, that’s brilliant.” You gasp with a turn to your recently spoken advisor.

“I simply cannot imagine how—pardon?” He choked, “You do know he is the only member of a royal family attending tonight, right? You couldn't possibly hope to… find a better suitor beforehand and even if you did, his highness would not have it.”

Every word of his seems to go through one ear and out the other as you take a step closer to him, flash a smile, and then move your hand to his arm. “My finest of gratitude to you, Sir. Higuruma.”

His eyes seem to widen with pure confusion. “...I do not understand.”

“You play your role as my advisor well, thank you.” You proceed, not caring to elaborate in the slightest. Then you turn away and begin walking again, “I know what I must do.”

His feet stammer to follow you once more, “And what might that be, my lady? You promised your mother–, the queen, that you wouldn’t do anything brash.”

“It willn’t be ‘brash’ at all.” You chirp simply.

“Then what—”

Pausing only one last time, you glance back at your awfully confused advisor and send him a reassuring grin. “Have my lady-in-waiting arrive to my room within the hour, I have a ball to prepare for.”

With that, your walk continues. Higuruma tries to follow you but he’s stopped by a hand meeting his chest. His brows pinch together just as he looks down, finding Yuki’s palm hovering over his chest in a silent motion to get him to stop.

He then looks at her and opens his mouth to protest against everything that’d just happened but with a simple shake of her head before he could even get a word out, his shoulders sink and he ends up turning away with a huff.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

An hour does, in fact, fly by before you find yourself in the confines of your bedroom. With your feet meeting the soft cushions of a small stool, your head held high, and your mouth moving at such a rapid pace, you’d been venting to your lovely lady-in-waiting from the moment she’d arrived in your room.

“And the worst part of it all? If I am to marry that man then I will later be expected to carry an hier—fuck,” Your voice is cut short with a low curse as the strings securing the corset part of your dress are only pulled tighter from behind you. Your back straightens up a bit more than before and your voice pitches to a higher and breathier degree, “‘Hime, that’s… hah, too tight-, I can hardly breathe.”

She perks up from behind you and releases the strings from her grasp entirely, “Ah, I am so sorry, my lady!” The maiden gasps softly. Her fingers then trail upward along the fabric weaving through the corset holes and you feel her making steady adjustments. “I was so caught up in that story of yours that I uhm,” She loosens an area or two, allowing you a moment to breathe. “Got carried away… How’s this—better?”

You release a long exhale as your shoulders relax, “It’s much better now, as far as breathability is concerned. But,” Your eyes linger on the nearby propped up mirror and you ogle your figure closely. “Well, now it is too loose.”

In the mirror’s reflection, you notice those violet locks of hair resting atop her head sway to the right as her head tilts to study your figure from her angle better. “Hm. I see.” She utters to herself before taking hold of those strings once more. “I’m going to tighten it again, are you ready for it this time?”

With a nod, you glance back at her and raise your thumb up. “Mhm, pull until I say stop.”

Her hands begin to do just that, slowly pulling the strings to tighten the piece once more. As she gives her softened tugs, her eyes lift to your face and she watches the way a hitched breath leaves your lips. “Too tight?”

“Did I say stop?” You ask lightheartedly.

She shakes her head, “No, but–”

“Utahime,” You breathe her entire name so suddenly that her hands come to a halt immediately. “Keep pulling.”

Probably with some form of nervousness under your direct gaze and commanding tone, her head drops and she focuses her eyes back down to her hands—giving you one firm tug that makes your body jerk backward ever so slightly. You gasp, again, and this time a hand of yours moves back to grab her wrist.

“Right there,” You utter, “That is perfect, thank you.”

Utahime stares at your grasp on her wrist for a moment longer than necessary before clearing her throat and sealing that tightly pulled fabric with an appropriate knot. Then, she removes her hands from your dress entirely and takes a step back. “Well uh-, as you were saying, my lady?”

You’re busy twisting and turning slightly to gather your appearance in the mirror before you respond, oblivious to the nearby eyes also gathering your frame. “Oh, yes, I would be expected to deliver an heir not too long after I am married. Knowing my parents and the Zenin family, both I and the man I am to marry would ascend the throne mere weeks after the wedding. The very next thing that follows that would be…”

“Having his child,” Utahime finishes for you, her voice disappointed—for your sake. “I’m sorry to hear of this, truly. I wish there were something I could do to help.”

You chuckle before stepping off of that small stool you’d been posted upon, striding over to your nearby dresser, and popping open a box of jewelry. “Fret not, ‘Hime,” You console with a dismissive wave of your hand. “I will not marry any Zenin man. Not in this life, nor the next.”

She paces over to you and dips her hand into that recently opened box, “So, what will you do?”

“Good question.” Protrudes Yuki, who’s been leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom listening for quite some time now. “I am really just dying to know what that big plan of yours is.” She scoffs, earning your glance. She nods her chin to you slightly, “I saw the look in your eyes earlier so, tell me, princess… what’re you plannin’?”

The smile that spreads across your face was much too bright for you to fight, “Like everyone else, you two will find out tonight.”

Your knight’s eyes roll as she pushes off the frame and begins to approach you and Utahime. ��Awh, don’t do that. The last ‘scheme’ you pulled off—”

“Got you your current position as my knight, if I’m not mistaken, Lady Tsukumo.” You adjourn as Utahime swipes up the corresponding jewelry to your dress and begins to assist in accessorizing you.

Yuki only gets closer before posting herself against the wall nearest to the dresser you stand at. She gives you a firm stare, receiving a matching one from you, before instead focusing her gaze on the necklace currently being fastened around your neck. “Touché. But it was reckless.”

“Harmless,” You correct with a shrug. “I mean, really, God forbid a woman gets what she wants through slightly drastic measures.”

She looks around the room for a moment before tutting. “You put yourself in harm's way just to test my capabilities.”

“I put myself in harm’s way to prove your capabilities to those who doubted,” You correct for a second time, flawlessly. “Plus, that was years ago. I won’t go to any lengths like that this time around, the safety of my nation is on the line. Just know I have an idea I may act on.”

Yuki can’t help the worry etched onto her face as she only questions you further, “And this idea is safe?”

Smiling still, “No ideas are ‘safe’ for women in this day and age.” You remind her.

Silence befalls upon the room and even Utahime’s fingers pause on the clasp of your necklace that she’d been struggling with for the past few minutes. Her eyes soon glide over to Yuki and they exchange a look, their thoughts mutual within the quietude.

After that briefness passes, Yuki’s voice softens and she leans toward you ever so slightly, “So then, perhaps you shouldn’t act on it?”

Your face twists up as if you were offended, “And marry that coxcomb?” To which Utahime snorts. “Over our dead bodies.” You huff.

The air seems to have lightened up and Yuki grins, “‘Our’..?”

“You’ve said you would die for me, yes?”

She hums, “Without hesitation.”

“Then, yes, our.”

Utahime’s accessorizing comes to an end as she finally gets that clasp in order and takes a step back—pulling you to turn around to face her, and then taking in your prepared appearance. “Perfect.” She chirps.

“Gorgeous,” Yuki adds beneath her breath with a faint cock of her head.

You’re left smiling at the hushed compliments from the two before hearing a telling knock on your bedroom door, followed by the voice of someone informing you that guests are beginning to arrive for tonight's event. You hadn’t even realized how much time you’d spent venting to Utahime and getting ready for the dreaded ball and now, the sun was on its journey to set and it was time for said ball to actually take place.

Sometimes, you forget how fast time seems to move when you are in distress. You soon reply to the quick announcement you’d been given and you and your two accompanying ladies begin to make haste toward exiting your bedroom.

Faint worry remains on both Utahime and Yuki’s face as they follow your lead but they make no more vocal arguments about it. Yuki trusts your judgement, to some degree, and Utahime is moreso frightened for what the future holds for you regarding this arrangement.

· · ──────── ·𖥸· ──────── · ·

All doubts and worries entirely aside, by the time you indulge yourself in the festivities of the ball graciously hosted by your parents, your internalized fear for how things may go seems to fade. That timeless ballroom music you’d been surrounded by all your life floats through the air along with the sound of laughter and chatter from the lavish guests who’ve traveled from all over just to be here.

These glorified parties are a repetitive cycle you’ve been forced to grow accustomed to but, you’ve never minded them much until today. The entire time you socialized with the many aristocrats and members of high-class families, you couldn’t help but feel anxious. No one seemed to mention Naoya or his family to you, which led you to wonder if earlier that morning had merely been some lucid nightmare of yours…

Surely if this engagement were to take place tonight and had been planned out long before you were privy to it, someone would have mentioned it or even asked if you were excited for it by now. Unless all those around you were just as aware as you are of how dreadful a family the Zenins were..?

Or hell, maybe people were told not to say anything to you—

It’s then that someone bumps into your back, nearly causing you to choke on the bubbly beverage you’d been sipping on for the past few minutes. And just when you thought you’d scored a moment of peace for yourself…

An overwhelming sum of cologne slithers into your nose and although the smell is quite pleasant, clearly its wearer had sprayed far too much on themself—leading you to cough in an attempt to clear both your nose and your throat. Then, with an arm raised slightly over your face, you turn to whoever just bumped into you.

You don’t know what hits you first, the abrupt sight of him or that grating tone of his. “I swear you people have no sense of awareness. Has your sense of sight failed you, leaving you unable to see that I was clearly—oh,” Naoya grouses, his upper lip lifting faintly in a twinge of disgust. “It’s you.” He diverts, silently revoking his words prior out of what little respect he holds for you.

As unfortunate as it is, you have to drag your gaze upward to meet his. Just then, you mentally curse whoever's responsible for his mere existence because it should truly be a crime to be that painfully attractive, especially considering how all that typically flies out the window the moment he opens his mouth. You think your breath hitches at first sight of him.

Perhaps it was the proximity, considering he’d just bumped into you and made no efforts to back away after but, either way, he is undeniably… quite handsome. You have to blink thrice to register that this is the same rude man you’d last seen years ago, who you definitely do not remember being this… yeah, you won’t be throwing him any more compliments—albeit they’re all mental, as of now.

In the same way you seem to be taken aback by his appearance, he unconsciously weighs his head to the side as he drinks-, more like, gulps in your appearance. His eyes run up and down your face at least four times before he looks further down, in an attempt to glance at the necklace you have on, only to find himself leering at your chest and whatever cleavage you had visible. And, to say the least, if anything is mutual between the two of you, it’s definitely the attraction.

You decide to work up your usual confidence to speak, having reminded yourself who exactly you're looking at right now. “My eyes are up—“

“I know where your eyes are, woman.” Naoya cuts off with such a quickness that your head cocks back in immediate offense. But, before you can say anything else, he clears his throat and you watch him squeeze his eyes shut. “Pardon me,” He grits out, the words sounding as though it pained him to speak them. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so…” His eyes flutter open and he inhales strongly before cutting his intake off with a cough. “Close.” Is the last word he breathes out to you.

Your eyes remain on him and his every facial shift—the way he pulls his head back, takes another deep breath, bats his lashes elsewhere for a moment, brings his fist to his lips to cough again, and then shakes himself out of whatever that all was. You’re left unsure of what his body language translates to but you don’t believe you have it in you to care considering the way he starts talking again.

“Anyway,” Noaya straightens up where he stands and finally looks down at you (literally and mentally), “Let’s make this quick since I’ve finally found you, yeah?”

You raise a brow and move to cross your arms, “Does that imply that you were searching for me?”

His lips twitch, “No.”

“Some fiancé you’ll be…” You grumble out to him, to which he snorts.

“Just lend me your hand so I can propose, we’ve eyes on us.” He tells you rather quickly and quietly. You didn’t even realize how long your attention was on him before you blinked and looked around, finding the eyes of many lingering on you and him.

Oh. So people were aware of his upcoming proposal…

With a heavy sigh, you glance at him once more and he’s got this cunning look plastered all over his face. “I believe a man is to drop down on one knee to propose, no?” You ask almost dryly.

Naoya’s brows twist up, “You expect me to get on my knees for the likes of you?”

You shrug off his rudeness, “How else are you to propose?”

“You give me your hand and I slide this ring on your finger,” He tells you with a steadily lowering voice, dipping a hand into his pocket.

You honestly cannot believe the constant audacity that simply oozes off of this man. It’s as though he expects everything in his life to be served to him on a silver platter. “I will offer out my hand to no man who refuses to at least get down on one knee for me.” You tell him simply, your confidence not wavering in the slightest.

His left eye twitches in pure irritation. “I refuse to do anything ‘for you’.”

“Then I refuse to marry you.” You shrug.

He scoffs right in your face, “You haven’t the liberty.”

You huff back, “How can I be expected to marry a man who’s yet to propose?”

“You—“ Naoya grits his teeth and looks to the high ceilings for a moment before groaning slightly. He eventually returns his eyes to you and you can tell he’s over this entire thing. “Does compliance come this difficult for all women?”

“Does arrogance come this naturally from all men?” It’s from here that the two of you glare each other down while bickering back and forth as if it were second nature.

“Must you have a rebuttal for everything I say?”

“Depends on how long you take to propose to me like a proper gentleman.”

He pauses for a split second before sassily rolling his eyes, “You irritate me.”

“I’ve hardly done anything,” You reply with a lighthearted chuckle.

“Is shutting up something you’re incapable of?”

Dismissing him for the first time, you begin to look elsewhere. “Are you going to propose or not? I don’t have all night.”

Naoya swears he’s seconds away from tossing the ring in his hands into the nearest trashcan and declaring war because surely that would be much simpler than getting you to go along with things, “Don’t rush me.”

“You’re the one who said to make this quick,” You remind the man, noticing the distant gaze of both your parents and his.

The prince in front of you grits his teeth again, “I—��

“So hurry up.” Your hand waves in a dismissive manner as you turn your head back to him, “Get on your knees, Zenin.”

He’s clearly physically incapable of accepting any sort of orders from you without having anything to say so, “Address me by my first name.” Is what leaves his lips shortly after.

“I will not.” You deny.

He flashes a knowing smirk, “You must.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will discard this act of peace and declare w—“

“Fine,” You choke out, almost in fear. “Naoya… if you wish for me to be your wife in six months' time then you will drop to one knee and propose to me, properly.”

He finally begins to lower down to one knee, speaking in a harsh whisper, “The excess was unnecessary.”

“I care little of what you deem unnecessary.” You utter right back.

“I care little about you.”

“Good.”

Whipping the ring out quickly and assuming the perfect position below you, he glares, “Be my wife.”

You wish you had a way to capture how he looks right now. Naoya being on his knees is a sight no one can say they’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing before so, naturally, many of the onlookers begin to gasp and share gossiping whispers to one another.

You keep your voice low but many watch your mouth move, “Is that how you propose? No wonder you’ve yet to find a woman before me…”

Naoya’s fingers pinch the ring held up to you tighter and you notice a vein pop out along his sharp jawline, “This arrangement was not by my personal choice. Now, do me… the honor, and…” He waits a moment before raising his voice so that those nearby can hear, “Marry me.”

You deadpan, “It sounds like you’re demanding me—“

“Jesus-, fuck, woman!” He curses unintentionally with a momentary drop of his head. Before you can let out the laugh his reaction invokes, he flips his gaze right back up to you and looks you dead in the eye as he speaks in a firm tone, “Will you marry me?”

For the first time since he’s ever known you, you smile at him—causing his body to feel… weird. He thinks he hates that stupidly gorgeous spread of lips and flash of teeth that starks across your face. Then, your hand is held out to him and you nod. “I suppose.”

He narrows his eyes at you and doesn’t move.

You roll your own. “Yes, I… accept your proposal.”

Not wasting any more time whatsoever, Naoya practically shoves the ring onto your finger, his touch oddly as smooth as silk against you. “Finally. Now—“

“Under one condition.” You add on with a very slight retraction of your hand.

“Condition??” His brows meet and his eyes frantically travel over to where both your parents stand, “I was not informed that this would come with any—“

“No one knew of any until now,” You say as you lean down a bit.

He groans, “What is it?”

It’s almost as though there was some sort of shift within your tone. As Naoya moves his eyes back to you, he finds your entire presence wildly different in comparison to a few seconds ago. And the darkened look you hold in your eyes, the way that smile of yours had yet to fade—just what could you possibly have planned in that feeble mind of yours??

“I would like to curate a harem for myself during our engagement,” You requested.

Naoya fights internally to hold back the shocked laugh he’d almost let out in your face, “Why am I not surprised the wench wishes for a harem of all things…”

You let out an offended breath, “Excuse me—“

“Sure,” He scoffs, sizing you up and down as he quickly raises to his feet. “You can make your lil’ harem. Run around and tarnish your reputation all you want but, that will not be enough for me to end this engagement.”

Back up to his feet, he finds himself looming toward you and surprised by how unmoving you are, “I don’t plan on it.”

Naoya only inches closer, “Must every last word be yours?” He asks, breath fanning over your skin with a faint scent of… mint?

You respond silently with a thin-lipped smile, mentally discarding how you keep picking up on such small details.

To which a vein in his forehead makes a sudden appearance, “Oh you little—“

“Let us all congratulate the happy couple!” A voice, Higuruma’s, chimes in, “A joyous union this’ll be for our nations!” He announces quickly.

People rush to swarm you and Naoya within seconds, celebratory wishes and congratulations thrown at you from left and right as if this was truly some big surprise. Perhaps it was the fact that Naoya was actually able to propose to you and you were able to accept it without… anything else taking place instead.

So, you suppose you have something to celebrate now. Your request for a harem was approved without any question whatsoever. Perfect. You may not have had the time to get anyone of royal status to propose to you before Naoya did, especially considering it would take an act of love for someone to do so in the first place but, you sure as hell just bought yourself some.

m!list | next chapter |

tags 1/2;

@angellliqua @celestial-lunar @withcheese @itoshi-r @silvarys @everything-red @fishosezo @haesify @sassybananaweaselpsychic @orange-juice-is-ass

@notjustagirlinthisworld @sushiimara @larkson0 @di-in-al @sxnkuna @hanuh @cayla0000 @helloxkittylo @idkmanshrugg @chocolatecheer

@michelintopic @cinaminroll @french3xit @valleydoli @broimherebcsimboredok @sleepisforpuzzies @cuti3patooti8 @sukunadckrider @f0r7una @ventila98

@vixionix @levislug @mauve-gojo @chosomi @semi-lover @bee3l0v3r @noooo-onee @r4sh3li @yenayaps @chososbestgirl

@smutyturtle @simp-plague @pnkblueberry @stargirl-mayaa @kunareads @tojisdollx @gojoslefttoenail @forbiddenblog @glittercherry777 @samm1e13

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vikkicomics · 3 months ago

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Great work! Love the colours, Washington Crossing The Delaware's scheme. It's so good to see a fantasy with an Edwardian/Wilhelmian vibe.

Save the Princess world record speedrun in 11 pages! ...but the story is just starting. What fate awaits Princess Palmira?

Pages 9-11

Start <<Previous<< >>Next>>

#polsterreich #historical fantasy #comic #military uniform #fritz weidmann #princess palmira #vintage aesthetic #Washington crossing the Delaware #colour scheme #trains #edwardian

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ill-kidnap-all-the-stars · 16 days ago

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Azula

[ image description: a digital drawing of Azula from Avatar: the Last Airbender in my style. She is a light-skinned woman with gold eyes and black hair, the top part tied in a top knot. She is wearing a red cheongsam dress with a wide skirt, a dark red/brown sash and a matching shawl around her arms. Her upper cheongsam has gold hibiscus embroidery, while her sash has gold phoenix embroidery. Whisps of blue fire are coming from her fingers. She is standing in front of a brown Fire Nation sign ]

prints ✨ commissions

I honestly feel like this Azula might be close to my magnum opus 🔥 influences and inspiration under the cut, but the usual warning that it's nigh impossible to condense thousands of years and miles worth of culture into one post so there is 100% nuance and detail missing. Also, I tried my best with the Chinese, but I honestly don't speak a lick of it so I put my faith in strangers on the internet :/ anyway, enjoy:

A Bit of Background:

The Fire Nation is visually and geographically inspired by volcanic islands such as Iceland, Hawaii and Polynesian islands, while the culture of the Fire Nation is primarily inspired by East, South and Southeast Asia, as well as sun-worshipping cultures (such as the Ancient Egyptians and Mesoamericans). For example:

the Confucian concept of ‘filial piety’ (孝顺 or ‘xiao shun’) is central to the Fire Nation too;

the agni kai is a form of honour duel commonly seen in warrior societies of South Asia, and literally translates as ‘Duel of Fire’ or ‘Fire Quarrel’;

the Fire Nation propaganda justifying the war is reminiscent of the Japanese Empire during the Second World War;

the architecture draws on that of Ancient Egypt, different Chinese dynasties, and historic Southeast Asian kingdoms;

the food typically resembles the Sichuan food, particularly in the spiciness and quantities of meat.

Fire Nation Clothing:

The clothing of the Fire Nation draws from many East and Southeast Asian clothing. For example, the armour the military wears has influences from traditional Thai armour, the shoulder pieces the Royal Family wears come from Burmese court wear, the school uniforms are inspired by traditional Thai clothing, and the Royal Family's top knot appear to come from Qin Dynasty China.

The Royal Court are often seen wearing changshan, a traditional clothing of the Han Chinese, although that is not the only influence. For example, Azula's skirt comes from the wraparound trousers worn in Laos, Cambodia and Thailand, while Ty Lee and Toph's jewellery comes from the Thai mongkut.

My Design:

While Azula (and, in fact, many other Fire Nation characters) originally had a distinctly Japanese-influenced design, I decided to roll with the overarching Chinese aesthetic that she and the Royal Court ended up with. I think it's well-established that Azula's obsession with perfection extends to her appearance, not just her bending, so I decided to draw her as the perfect Fire Nation princess.

My starting point was the Chinese phoenix (鳳凰 or ‘fenghuang’), which symbolises, among other things, feminine beauty and good fortune, and is traditionally associated with the Empress in Imperial China. In addition, the phoenix and the dragon are often seen as representative of the yin and yang, the two complimentary and opposing forces in Chinese philosophy, and I think the two nicely symbolise Azula and Zuko's contentious relationship. I also embellished her dress with hibiscus flowers, as they symbolise glory, grandeur and fame, which I believe Azula desires greatly.

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bunnyinvanilla · 3 months ago

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when sugar daddy!john price finds out about the little furry friend you’ve taken it while he’s been on deployment…

you’ve been looking forward to your daily — nightly — call from john all day, now that hes been back on deployment. And you’re not alone, your new fluffy friend can practically feel the excitement and happiness swirling in the air, and is now wagging his tail contently, nudging his humid nose against your lap.

“hello?” your sweet voice rings like a mellifluous, honeyed waterfall, the first sugary and pleasant sound that john has heard in days. “sir?”

“doll,” his own voice is a deep, warm and low note, rough and husky, it makes you blush and squirm even from a large distance. “hi princess”

“hi, daddy!” it’s exactly when he hears the pure joy in your voice that he’s reminded of why he’s still fighting to protect that country — he’s been a soldier his entire life, a roughened and hardened captain, fearsome and grouchy, who loves working in the military, but ever since meeting you, hes found a reason for wanting to come back, someone to come back to.

“how are you sir?” you crouch and rub your free hand on top of Oreo’s soft, almost plush fur, scratching behind his ear just like you’ve learned he likes so much. “I miss you so much daddy,”

“daddy’s fine, love, just headed back to my private quarters, how’s my precious girl doing?”

you hear the faint sound of fabric rustling on the background, the metallic jingle of a belt being unbuckled is familiar to your ears, and makes you flush, warm and red skin pressed against the phone. “im alright, i went to the bookstore with my friend this morning, and finally tried the new starbucks collection,”

he coos at you, still listening attentively, and you wonder if he’s done getting changed, his uniform tidily folded on his mattress. “that’s good, angel, any problem with the bar?”

you feel Oreo stand up on his paws and snuggle up against your lap, the scent of his soap filling your nostrils an making you smile, still petting his head and back “no, I’ve met some local regulars and they were wondering when you’d open again, are the boys okay? do they miss me?”

his deep, warm chuckle makes you blush more, you just love how velvety his voice sounds “yeah doll, keep asking me how my missus’s doing-“

“woof!”

you widen your eyes and remain still, looking down at Oreo who’s basically demanding more pats — you gesture to him to remain quiet, bringing a single finger to your lips.

but john, able to recognize the tiniest shift in ambience and air, practically made to catch any movement and sound, gruffs in your ear

“…who’s that?”

you freeze, pressing your lips together, still petting Oreo that now titled his head, as if understanding where the conversation will inevitably head to…

“no one, ‘s just my friend, daddy” you mentally pray that you’re sounding convincing, knowing well you can’t — and don’t want to — lie.

a few seconds of silence pass between you and price, before you hear the gruff rumble of his voice, somehow tinted with a suspicious tone and becoming even lower. “…your friend barks?”

“no, he’s uhm…he’s just, happy” you try to bite down a worried smile, nibbling on your lip, but Oreo doesn’t show the tiniest concern over your worry, simply wagging his tail and rubbing himself against you — maybe he doesn’t realize that his daddy is on the other side on the phone, or maybe he does and is eager to let his presence be known.

“doll.” the warning in his rough, low tone would’ve made you shiver in a pleasant way any other moment, but now, it only makes you lift your shoulders against your light neck, faking obliviousness — you understand now why his soldiers always straighten their backs in fear when he speaks with that tone.

“mmmhh, yes, daddy?”

“woof!”

“shh, Oreo!” you whisper to the border collie, but it sounds like a yell to john, who’s now sitting down, a large hand scratching his beard and ruffling his hair tiredly, a heavy sigh stuck on his throat.

he clenches his jaw, the muscles shifting his facial hair before his mumbles something quietly, hand now pressed against his forehead.

you did it, you’ve taken a stray home, to his home, and he’s coming back tomorrow.

part 2 coming soon🍓

#john price x f!reader #john price x female reader #john price imagine #price x female reader #captain price x female reader #john price #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #call of duty

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grimm-cod · 2 years ago

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Simon is DEFFFF a GIRL DAD.

Simon and you had identical twin girls, and THEY ARE THE LIGHT OF HIS LIFE.

Simon would do anything for his girls.

tea party with stuffed animals? done.

painting his nails? done.

when Soap asks him why his nails are bright pink when he takes his gloves off, Simon just gives him a glare in response, and Soap decides not to press further.

When he gets home after a mission, and his girls are already tucked into bed, Simon goes into their bedroom to press soft kisses against their foreheads.

If one of the twins had a rough day at school, he would always be the first one to comfort them, which is odd because he's a big, broody, war machine, but he has a heart goddamnit.

He would name his twins: Sage and Saffron.

"They keep calling me the 'other Sage', dad." Saffron would tell him one day after a rough day at school.

"You're my Saffy, sweets. dont let 'em mess with ya." Simon would reply.

if one of the twins got sick, you and him would nurse her back to health, but soon enough, the other twin had the same damn thing, so now, you both are stuck dealing with moody, sick, identical twins.

"Dont wanna take my medicine, dad." Sage would argue.

"Dont care, love. gotta take it." Simon would reply after an hour of arguing with her, getting her to try and take her medicine. Saffron on the other hand, she had taken it instantly, no matter how bad it tasted.

AND OHHH GODDD. if Soap were to ever find out that Simon had twin girls at home, and he was really a big softy behind closed doors, THE TEASING WOULD NEVER END.

Soap would tell anyone he came in contact with.

"Y'know, the Lt. has little twin girls? he treats them like princesses. he's a softy under all that mess." Soap would tell everyone.

And dont even get me started when he meets you and the twins for the first time.

Immediately takes on the role of "Uncle Johnny". Price would be "Papa Price", and Gaz would be "Uncle G", cause the twins couldnt stop calling him Gas instead of Gaz.

"They'll get the accent soon enough." Soap tried convincing Simon that the twins would get his scottish accent if he spent enough time with them, but Simon immediately shut that down.

Simon didnt want his precious girls around anything military related.

Simon had to pick the girls up from school one day, and the other parents couldnt stop staring at him because he was in full uniform, having left from base.

Simon's uniform would definently make the younger kids cry. I would cry too if i saw a 6'4", muscular, british guy in a skull mask and military uniform and tactical gear.

Simon did feel bad though.

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deliciousangelfestival · 8 months ago

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I Hate It When You're Drunk - 7

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A forbidden love between a princess and her bodyguard. They love each other deeply, but their relationship is threatened by the tyrant king's oppressive rule and their differing social statuses.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on : Ko-fi 🙏🏻please, please please.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

In the other room, laughter and excitement filled the air as you and your bridesmaids gathered for the wedding preparations. Your friends, all hopeless romantics, were thrilled for you, knowing how much this day meant.

They huddled around, admiring your wedding dress—an elegant, simple gown adorned with delicate flower embroidery. The white fabric shimmered softly in the light, making you look like a vision of grace.

You wore a crown that once belonged to your mother, a cherished heirloom that your father had handed to you himself. After receiving his permission for this momentous occasion, the bitterness you once held toward him had softened, if only slightly.

As you stood before the mirror, gazing at your reflection, the crown glinted softly in the light, a symbol of the legacy you carried. You couldn’t help but wish that your mother were here with you, guiding you through this pivotal day.

With the international media coverage, a small part of you hoped that wherever she was, she would see the news and know that her daughter was getting married.

“You look stunning,” one of your bridesmaids said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Bucky’s going to lose his breath when he sees you,” another chimed in, a playful grin on her face.

“You two are perfect for each other,” someone added, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. There’s no doubt in my mind this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

Their words were heartfelt, and as they each gave their blessings, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth. Their support made the day even more special, reminding you that you weren’t just marrying Bucky—you were also surrounded by people who truly cared for you and wanted to see you happy.

The wedding became a national holiday, a day of grand celebration and international coverage. Streets were lined with eager spectators as the festivities unfolded in a magnificent parade. Soldiers in gleaming uniforms rode atop powerful horses, their disciplined ranks adding a military grandeur to the occasion.

King Leonard seized the opportunity to showcase the might of Veridian, reminding the world of the nation's strength under his iron rule. As Bucky watched the display, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had truly entered the lion's den.

“We have to go to the church,” said Archer, the Defense Minister of Veridian. With no family of his own, Bucky found himself accompanied by Archer, his father’s old friend and now the closest thing he had to family. The ministry of defense, a symbol of the power Bucky was stepping into, stood by his side.

They climbed into a classic Rolls-Royce, the car gliding through the streets toward the church. The clear windows made Bucky an object of attention, with every pair of eyes in the crowd focused on him. People cheered and waved the flag of the country, their excitement palpable as they awaited the groom’s arrival.

“Wave, Bucky,” Archer prompted.

Bucky waved, but it felt hollow. He was like a goldfish in a glass bowl, exposed and on display for all to see.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Archer remarked.

Bucky could only wish his father were there to see this day.

“Except your mom. She’d be furious that you’re marrying the king’s daughter,” Archer added with a wry smile.

“If she’s still alive, I hope this is enough to bring her back, wherever she is,” Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a longing he couldn’t suppress.

“She’s still alive,” Archer said, his tone suddenly serious.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to Archer’s, disbelief and hope warring within him. “Don’t joke with me,” he said, his voice tight with emotion.

“I know where she is,” Archer responded calmly.

Relief washed over Bucky like a tidal wave, the best news he had heard in years. “Where is she?” he demanded, but then hesitated, glancing around. “Wait, is it safe to talk about this here?”

“There are no bugs in the car, and the driver is one of my people,” Archer reassured him.

Thank God, Bucky thought, grateful that Archer had thought everything through. “So where is she?”

“In an enemy state,” Archer said, pausing before revealing the name. “Thalassa.”

Bucky’s world tilted on its axis. Thalassa—the very mention of the place sent a chill down his spine. King Leonard’s decree was clear: anyone who visited Thalassa would be branded a traitor. His mother had chosen to live in a country that refused to acknowledge Leonard as the rightful ruler.

“I hope you can make a change around here,” Archer said, his words heavy with meaning.

Bucky could only hope, his mind spinning with the revelation and the burden it now placed on his shoulders.

👑👑👑👑👑

Bucky arrived at the church first, stepping into the grand hall that had been meticulously decorated for the royal wedding. The aisles were lined with white roses, and soft golden drapes hung from the high arches, casting a warm, regal glow throughout the space. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with the incense, creating an atmosphere that was both sacred and celebratory.

Diplomatic guests from across the world filled the pews, their attire as varied and ornate as their countries of origin. Bucky, however, recognized none of them. They were not his guests but those of King Leonard, each one a powerful figure in their own right, all there to witness the union under the king's command.

Bucky's attention was momentarily diverted to the seats behind King seat. Cassian and his uncle, Duke Griffin, were seated there, their presence adding another layer of complexity to the scene.

Cassian, who had earlier expressed his disillusionment with the arranged marriage, now sat with a mask of indifference. His eyes occasionally flicked toward Bucky, a mixture of pity and curiosity in his gaze. Beside him, Duke Griffin, an imposing figure with a sharp gaze, remained impassive.

As Bucky stood at the front, feeling the weight of their gazes on him, the doors opened to reveal King Leonard. The entire congregation stood and bowed deeply as the king entered, a silent acknowledgment of his absolute authority. Leonard’s presence commanded the room, his every step echoing through the grand hall.

Before taking his seat, Leonard approached Bucky, his expression unreadable. He placed a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, a gesture that felt more like a warning than reassurance.

“Your duty is just to make my daughter happy,” Leonard said, his voice low and cold. “I don’t expect anything else from you.”

Bucky didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded, his throat tight, as Leonard withdrew and moved to his place of honor.

A hush fell over the crowd as the master of ceremonies stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice echoed through the church, “the bride, Her Royal Highness, the Princess, will now arrive.”

As the church doors opened, the anticipation in the air became palpable. The choir's voices rose in harmony with the music, and the orchestra began playing Canon in D, the notes echoing through the grand hall.

Bucky stood at the altar, his back to the entrance. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum of nervous energy that reverberated through his entire being. He knew the moment had come, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around just yet. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to steady himself, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

As you entered the church, the soft rustle of your gown mixed with the melodious strains of Canon in D, creating a symphony that enveloped you. Each step felt like you were walking through a dream, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves.

The grandeur of the church overwhelmed you—the lavish decorations, the rows of esteemed diplomatic guests, and the sea of faces turned in anticipation. But amidst the opulence, your focus was solely on Bucky. He was the reason for every flutter in your chest, every tremor in your hands.

Your bouquet of fresh flowers felt like a lifeline, grounding you amidst the storm of emotions. The crown your father had gifted you, a delicate piece of history, seemed to weigh heavier now. It was a reminder of your lineage and the monumental step you were about to take.

The aisle stretched before you, a path leading to your future. With every step, you could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Despite the nerves and the overwhelming feeling that this was all too surreal, a smile found its way to your lips. You couldn’t believe it—after everything you’d been through, you were finally here, marrying the man you loved.

King Leonard, standing beside you, took a firm but reassuring grip on your arm. His presence was both a comfort and a reminder of the responsibility and expectation that came with this union. As he guided you down the aisle, the weight of the moment was palpable. His role was to lead you to Bucky, ensuring that you were united in front of everyone who mattered.

As you reached the midpoint of the aisle, you looked up at him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Father."

Leonard's gaze softened slightly, though his voice remained steady. "If he ever makes you cry or hurts you, just tell me."

You met his eyes with unwavering confidence. "That will never happen."

As you walked closer, Bucky finally found the courage to turn around. The sight of you took his breath away. You looked like a vision, an ethereal presence that made his heart skip a beat. His chest tightened with a mix of love and fear, knowing that this was it—the moment that would change both your lives forever.

The ceremony began, and the priest’s voice filled the air with solemnity and grace. He spoke of love, commitment, and the vows you were about to take. The words washed over you both, their weight sinking deep into your hearts. Bucky glanced at you, his heart pounding, as the priest asked him the most important question of his life.

"Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

Bucky’s voice was steady, though he felt anything but. "I do."

The priest then turned to you, and you felt a wave of emotions—love, fear, excitement—crash over you.

"And do you, Princess, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

With a voice filled with certainty and love, you answered, "I do."

The priest smiled warmly and announced, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Bucky reached up to lift your veil, his hands trembling slightly. As he finally revealed your face, your smile met his, a beacon of pure joy that made his heart race.

Without waiting for the priest to instruct you, Bucky leaned in and kissed you. The spontaneous, heartfelt gesture drew laughter and applause from the guests, filling the church with a warmth that melted away any lingering tension.

Hand in hand, you and Bucky turned to face the guests, but first, you both bowed deeply to the king.

King Leonard, with a measured smile, stepped forward. "Welcome to the family, James."

Bucky met the king's gaze, doing his best to suppress the unease bubbling beneath the surface. "It's an honor, Your Majesty."

With the formalities complete, you both began the procession down the aisle, greeting guests as you went. Outside the church, the crowds had gathered, their cheers erupting as you stepped out. The sight of you in your beautiful white dress and Bucky in his military uniform was like something out of a fairy tale. The people waved flags and called out well-wishes, celebrating what seemed to be the happiest day of your life.

But Bucky couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that clung to him. The memory of the blood-red message burned in his mind, making him feel vulnerable in the open space. As much as he tried to keep up appearances, the urge to get inside, away from prying eyes, was overwhelming.

Thankfully, the ornate carriage that awaited you both was fitted with bulletproof glass, offering a sense of security that Bucky desperately needed. Once inside, you beamed with happiness, the joy of the day radiating from you.

"Can you believe it, Bucky? We’re finally married!" you said, your voice bubbling with excitement as you squeezed his hand.

Bucky forced a smile, trying to match your enthusiasm. "Yeah… finally."

You leaned closer to him, your eyes sparkling. "I knew this day would be perfect, but I never imagined it would feel this incredible."

Bucky nodded, his mind racing. "It’s everything you deserved."

You noticed a hint of something in his voice—a flicker of doubt, perhaps—but dismissed it, too wrapped up in the joy of the moment to let it linger.

As the carriage began its journey back to the castle, you continued talking about the day, the guests, and the future that lay ahead. Bucky listened, his hand still holding yours, but his thoughts were elsewhere, his eyes flicking nervously toward the bulletproof windows. The carriage offered safety, but the dread in his heart remained.

Unaware of the storm brewing inside him, you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, content in the belief that this was the start of your happily ever after.

👑👑👑👑👑👑

Bucky had just finished changing into a suit when he stepped out of the room, adjusting his tie. The weight of the day was pressing down on him, but he was determined to keep it together for your sake. As he walked into the hallway, he was suddenly shoved back, his shoulder slamming into the wall. The shock of the impact made him blink, and when his eyes focused, he felt as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Lucas?" Bucky's voice wavered in disbelief.

The man before him was a wreck—a shadow of the comrade he once knew. Lucas’s face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot and wild, his clothes disheveled like he had crawled out from the depths of hell. His hands trembled, and in one of them, a gun was pointed directly at Bucky's chest.

"You… you fucking traitor!" Lucas spat the words with venom, his voice cracking under the weight of betrayal. "We trusted you! Our comrades… our friends… and you sold us out to that monster!"

Bucky raised his hands slowly, trying to calm his friend. "Lucas, listen to me—"

"Shut up!" Lucas’s voice was a shriek, desperate and unhinged. He shook his head, his grip on the gun tightening. "You don’t get to talk! Do you know what they did to us? What they did to me?"

"I know, and I’m going to make things right," Bucky said, his voice low, trying to keep it steady even as his heart raced. "But killing me won’t change what happened."

"You don’t get it, do you? It’s too late! It’s all too fucking late!" Lucas’s eyes were filled with rage and sorrow, a man broken by unimaginable horrors. He took a step closer, the barrel of the gun trembling but still aimed squarely at Bucky.

Bucky could see Lucas was beyond reason, his mind fractured by the torment he had endured. Every second felt like an eternity as the gun wavered, Lucas’s finger twitching on the trigger. The fear was real, but Bucky couldn’t let it control him.

"Lucas, please," Bucky’s voice was almost a whisper. "I swear, I didn’t betray you. We can fix this together—"

A gunshot rang out, the sound echoing through the hall like a death knell. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the searing pain of a bullet tearing into him. But nothing came. No pain, no darkness. He opened his eyes, and the sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

Lucas stood there, his eyes wide with shock, blood seeping through his shirt from a wound in his chest. He staggered, his grip on the gun loosening. Bucky instinctively reached out, catching Lucas before he could collapse to the floor.

"It… it wasn’t you. I’m… Avenge us," Lucas choked out, blood bubbling up in his mouth as he spoke.

"Don’t speak, Lucas. I’ll get help," Bucky said, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back the tears. He could feel the life draining out of his friend, the warmth leaving his body.

"It’s… too late," Lucas whispered, his voice barely audible now.

Bucky looked up, desperation and anger swirling in his chest, and that’s when he saw him—Isaac. The man he thought was dead, standing there as if nothing had happened. Isaac was clean, composed, his hair neatly combed, and his suit pristine. He looked every bit the part of someone who had just stepped out of a palace, not a prison.

"You," Bucky growled, his voice filled with fury as he held Lucas’s lifeless body. "It was you."

Isaac’s lips curled into a cold smile. He bowed his head slightly, a mockery of respect. "From now on, I serve you, Your Highness."

"You fucking traitor!" Bucky’s voice was a roar of pain and anger. He wanted nothing more than to rip Isaac apart, to make him pay for everything he had done.

"Oh, what a good job youdid on your first day." A cold, authoritative voice cut through the tension.

Bucky looked up to see King Leonard, his presence commanding the room. The king walked in, seemingly oblivious to the blood-stained scene before him, as if Lucas's dying body was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Isaac straightened up and greeted the king with a formal nod. "It’s my duty, sir."

King Leonard smiled, his gaze shifting to Bucky, who was still cradling Lucas’s lifeless form. "Let me introduce you to the new head of the castle guard, Isaac."

Bucky’s anger simmered just below the surface, his hands clenched into fists. Isaac, the man who had betrayed them all, was now standing here with the king’s blessing. This was no longer just a political game—this was personal.

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arc-misadventures · 10 months ago

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Lady of the Sea of Dunes

Idea!

The Schnee's are from, Vaccuo, instead of. Atlas.

The Schnee's are faunas's.

And, Weiss is a white haired, tanned skin, fox faunas.

\\\

Jaune: My thanks for rescuing me... I got lost from my party during a Grimm attack... Those dessert crawlers are absolute bastards.Dragged me for miles before I killed the dammed thing.

SDC Guard: No problem my good man. We are happy to help anyone in their time of need. The desert is a treacherous place after all. We either stand together as one, or fall to the sands alone.

Jaune: Wise words. It’s a shame only a few follow such words with their hearts, and not their lips.

SDC G: A true shame indeed.

Jaune: Hmm? Your uniform; are you a part of the Schnee Dynasty Corp?

SDC G: Yes. I am a proud member of the Schnee Dynasty Corp. Proud defender of her, Royal Highness people, and all of her holdings.

Jaune: So, is that akin to a like a police force, a military, or a royal guard?

SDC G2: Something like that, they are all under the same umbrella, but they are separate organizations.

Jaune: It’s only like that because you couldn’t come up with a catchy name for the rest, eh?

SDC G: Ha!

SDC G2: They tried.

Jaune: Ha. Hey, do you guys have a CCTS system I can hook up to? I need to catch up with my teammates, I need to let them know that I’m not dead.

SDC G2: That can be arranged.

SDC G: Yes, we wouldn’t want you friends to think you’re dead.

Jaune: Oh thanks! I greatly apricate that.

SDC G: Of course, but before we do that, one of the Ladies of the Desert wishes to see you.

Jaune: Ladies of the Desert? What’s that?

SDC G2: The Ladies of the Schnee family, are often called the, Ladies of the Desert. One of them wishes to meet the, Huntsmen that came here. That's not a problem now is it?

Jaune: A problem? No, no not at all. It would be rude if I don't thank my benefactor for saving me personally.

SDC G2: That's good! Ah. we're here! The royal palace.

Jaune: (Whistles~!) I like what you've done with the place.

SDC G: Thank you.

Jaune: So, who am I seeing? I like to be prepared so I don’t make an ass of myself in front of someone important. Again…

SDC G2: You will be meeting her majesty the Lady of the Dune Seas.

Jaune: The Lady of the what?

SDC G3: Now presenting! The Lady of the Dune Sea: Weiss Schnee!

Weiss: Hello, noble Huntsmen! I welcome you to my humble abode. I am, Princess Weiss Schnee, the Lady of the Dune Seas. What is your name?

Jaune: ...

Weiss: ...?

SDC G3: Your name sir huntsmen?

Jaune: Huw, what?! Oh yeah! My name is, Jaune Schnee... Arc! Jaune Arc! N-Nice to meet you..

Weiss: Jaune.. Schnee? Oh my~! How bold of you~!

Jaune: Yes... Bold, and stupid...

Weiss: Fufufu~! I like you~! I think I’ll make you mine~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Yay!

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #jaune x weiss #weiss x jaune #rwby whiteknight

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lucy-water · 8 months ago

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Preußen's journal, September 1792:

L'Autrichienne, that was how they called her in Paris.

If I had arrived at La Force Prison a few minutes late, she would have shared the same fate with The Angel of Penthièvre, or maybe worse.

As I expected, the Archduchess was stubborn and initially insisted on staying, did not want to abandon The Royal family behind. She even begged me to help them.

I refused to do so. My hands were tied with the tumultuous situation in France. Saving her alone was already dangerous, I could not afford to play the role of a gallant Knight while risking my men's life.

The Archduchess tried to resist and thus, left me no other choice. I had to use force upon her in order to bring her outside. Thanks to the uniform I had stolen, the frantic mobs thought I were a guard carrying a prisoner's body to dump, my disguise allowed us to pass to safety.

The military physician had examined the Archduchess's health. Overall, except for being a bit underweight and having a bruise on her forehead caused by me, she was in good condition to carry on with the travel.

We will reach to Vienna soon. I have decided to be the Archduchess's companion during these time. Physically, she might appear normal but I cannot say the same to her mind. It's the best for all of us if I keep an eye on her.

-------------------------------------------------

Historical background and explaination:

L'Autrichienne: This was the nickname the French gave to Marie Antoinette during her downfall. Roughly translation means "the Austrian bit.."

At the end of August 1792, the news of the Prussian Army would be advancing to Paris after their victory in Verdun, had caused disaster chaos in the city. Fearing the prisoners of the newly established Republic would join with the enemy, there were people decided the prisoners should be got rid of. On 2 September, more than 1,000 prisoners in Paris (and later outside the city) were k*ll and the numbers would only increase including normal citizens until stopped on 6 September. Princess de Lamballe, a favorite of Marie Antoinette, also known as The Angel of Penthièvre for her kindness toward the poor was among the victims of this horrendous incident. She was still remembered as one of the tragic figures in the French Revolution.

A year before, on 27 August 1791 Prussia and the Holly Roman Empire signed Declaration of Pillnitz, to intervene if the King of France and his family's safety was in threat.

To honor the Declaration and strength the new alliance, Prussia decided to save Lady Austria during the time of the French Revolution and this was also the point they officially fell for each other. For him, she was his damsel in distress, the Martyr who would sacrifice for the people that she loved and cared for no matter the situation. For her, he was the hero of her life, the Knight in shining armor came to life, that she had long forgotten.

However, a love that bloomed in the midst of tears and wars would hardly have any happy ending.

---------------------------------------------------

Disclaimer

Please note that, this is my commission and not my art. Credit to the artist: ann_duong (twister: @ann_akii) for creating this for me.

#hetalia #hetalia fanart #nyotalia #pruaus #gilbert beilschmidt #hws prussia #aph prussia #nyo austria #fem austria #prussia x nyo austria #prussia x fem austria #historical hetalia #french revolution #not my art #but my commisson #frev

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sapphic-woes · 2 months ago

Text

Ambessa x princess!Reader

This is an UNFINISHED FIRST DRAFT I'm basically dumping here after asking if anyone would want to read it anyway. I repeat, it is not finished, not edited, and olllld. You have been warned! TW: Blood, gore, death, etc

____

Your vision was murky. Your corset tight, and your head throbbed something awful. Warm liquid leaked out of your nose, mixing with the sea of bloody remains at your feet.

You tried not to gag at the dismembered bodies, let alone cry. This revolt had resulted in the massacre of everyone in the palace except for you. Your family, the maids, the butlers, the chefs…everyone who had ever served your family was dead. The once vibrant walls of the palace were splattered with blood, yet still more startling screams echoed around you.

"Please…where…?" Your voice crooked, begging for the knights dragging you through the hall to speak. You had never expected the military to rise against your family like this. Yet here you were, scared of the people in uniforms you used to find safety in. They didn't say a word in response, stiff as they walked you into the throne room.

"My queen. We have brought her." You could hardly stand, held up by the two soldiers at your sides. Why haven't they killed me yet? When you had finally been caught hiding, you were certain they would kill you without hesitation. Yet here you were, alive and being brought to their leader.

"…Let her go." The arms holding you up relaxed, and you hit the floor with a groan. Your cheek pressed against the marble floor slick with blood, shivering as you saw who it belonged to.

"F-father…" You whispered in shock, horrified to see your father's lifeless body not far from you. Tears fell as you covered your mouth with your hands, poorly attempting to muffle your weeping.

In the midst of your shock, you didn't notice the figure approaching you until it was too late. Heavy footfalls made you flinch, and you gasped as a large hand shot out–painfully grasping the entirety of your face. Your stifled protests had the dark figure towering over you chuckle, and you shrunk back as the woman before you squatted down.

"Finally, I've come back for you…master." You froze, stomach twisting with dread. Only one person ever called you that. One woman who you'd hated, despised, and done everything to get rid of.

You looked up into dark gray, stormy eyes. Her smirk was still the same, eerie and downright unpleasant. Her face was smeared with blood, but you knew she didn't mind. Ambessa cooed when your eyes trembled and welled with tears, crimson thumb shifting to catch one as they fell.

"And this time, I'll never let you throw me away again."

—

You met Ambessa when you were twelve, or rather, she was thrown to meet you.

Your father chucked a small creature–no, a child–onto the ground before you, and you blinked.

You didn't like this. Wasn't she hurt?

"Father, what–"

"You need a playmate, right? We destroyed Noxus, and I thought it would be a good present to bring back to you. Name it and do with it whatever you like. It's nothing more than a toy, understand?" Your father was a cruel man, eating up weaker kingdoms and exploiting them to expand his rule. Noxus had been no different, just one of the many kingdoms your father had decided to take over.

Usually, he came back after war with a prized jewel or rare artifact to give you in replace of his love…but he had never come back with a living person before.

"I…" You shuffled as you glanced down at the girl before you, swallowing nervously. "I-I am in no need of a toy. I'm older now and I need to mature anyway–"

"Are you rejecting my gift?" His cold tone made your heart stutter, and you gasped as he grabbed the girl's head and jerked her neck back, unsheathing his sword. "Then if she is of no use to you, I have no need to keep such a filthy bloodline alive–"

"No! Forgive me, I spoke without thinking. It was foolish, and I am grateful. Thank you Father." Hastily you spoke, watching your father stare at you for a moment before letting the girl go.

"Good. Train it so you don't humiliate our family more than you already have." With that, your father walked out, slamming the door behind him. You let out a shaky breath before spinning around back to the child, going over to wordlessly help her get treated. Once you both had teamed up together to do a sloppy, yet decent job, you gulped.

"My condolences. To your family that is. I know you probably don't want to hear that from me but…" You bit your bottom lip, reaching out to grasp her hand.

"I don't want a toy. I want to be your friend, and I promise I'll help you escape. So if you're okay with that, may I please know your name?" The battered and bruised girl before you sniffled. She had been silent this entire time, but now she looked up into your warm gaze. Her eyes were beautiful. Like soft clouds floating in the sky. Her voice croaked as she spoke, but luckily you made out her words regardless.

"I…am Ambessa Medarda."

—

At sixteen, you drove her away.

"Princess." A shadow cast over you, robbing you of the warm sensation of sunlight on your skin. You grimaced, blinking your eyes open.

The intimidating silhouette above you was familiar. Hypnotizing as Ambessa crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow. Ah–you had been neglecting your studies once again, and they had sent Ambessa to come find you again.

What a poor choice. I'd rather avoid her than the duchess.

"Five more minutes." You mumbled from your peaceful spot on the ground under the cherry blossom tree. Ambessa snorted, and she bent down to slowly speak.

"Now. Do you know how angry the duchess is? You're to be betrothed soon, so she's especially adamant on your etiquette lessons. She'll complain to his majesty at this rate–and then what will you say?" You groaned as if you'd been stabbed, dramatically rising to your feet.

"Nothing. No matter what I'll say, he'll probably lock me up in that dark room for days. Better yet, instruct the maids to beat my legs till I can't stand." Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist, and you yelped as Ambessa pulled you close.

Oh, did she grow taller again? Unlike you, Ambessa seemed to always gain an inch every time she saw you. Now you had to crane your neck all the way back just to look at her face. You hated the care in her eyes. You knew about her feelings, but you had no right to accept them. You looked away, offering a wry smile to her pained expression.

"Don't look at me like that. Hopefully, whatever old geezer I marry won't be fond of such punishments." Ambessa shook her head.

"Princess, you shouldn't be dealing with this at all. Let me help you–" You stood on the tips of your toes to place your finger on her lips, gently smiling as you hushed her.

"But I do deal with it, quite often too, and if you get involved it'll just give father an excuse to get rid of you." Hands clasped behind your back, you walked backwards while keeping Ambessa's gaze. The summer breeze made your dress flutter, kind smile causing Ambessa's stomach to painfully twist.

"You are my one and only knight, and I your one and only "master"…so before I am used as a bargaining piece, I'll make sure my father can never touch you." Ambessa's face contorted, clearly wanting to object. She gripped her sword's handle, gritting her teeth.

"...What will you do?" Your eyes narrowed. You didn't want to say it out loud. You knew how much it would hurt your kind-hearted knight.

"Nothing I can't handle."Ambessa grumbled, allowing you to continue. "Please Ambessa. You can't stay here. Not when everyone treats you like you're less than human."

"But how can I leave you here?" You let out a small laugh, twirling amongst the flowers around you.

"I've lived in this rotten palace for twelve years before you came. I'll be okay for a few more before they marry me off." Ambessa let out a frustrated sigh.

"But I don't want to see you used like an object–"

"Ambessa." Your commanding tone silenced her protests. You looked down at your feet, trying not to let her words get to you.

Ambessa was the only one who cared about you, but you knew it wasn't right to abuse her kindness. While you considered her your friend, you both publicly kept up the appearance of servant and master. Worst yet, since Ambessa's position as a living trophy of war was technically less than a commoners, most of the palace's servants mistreated her behind your back. No matter how much I love her, she needs freedom more than anything else.

"But I am an object. All princesses are. Just…an object that's pampered until she can secure a national alliance." Ambessa opened her mouth to speak, but you shook your head. "Stop, I won't speak of this again. Let me do this one last thing for you–!"

Suddenly, you yelped as hands gripped your arms, roughly pulling you close. Ambessa stared down at you with furrowed eyebrows, seething as she raised her voice.

"For me? Princess, I want nothing but to stay by your side. So why do you keep insisting I leave? Are you driving me away because I told you about my feelings for you? Am I that uncomfortable to be around now?" The pain in her voice made your heart sink. She wasn't, but you decided it was easiest to lie than say the truth.

"So what if you are? I can't have you by my side with those feelings. I told you already. You're confused, Ambessa." The words flowed easier than you'd expected. How natural was it to tear at those who loved you? To sneer through the anguish in her eyes?

"Am I supposed to love someone I own? You've mistaken my kindness for–" Your voice became caught in your throat as Ambessa's hands squeezed your arms tight, and you winced in pain.

"A-Ambessa, you're hurting me–"

"Don't say that. Don't invalidate my emotions just because they scare you." Ambessa's voice was strained, and your breath hitched as she leaned in close.

"If you knew what I thought of you, you'd never bother to question me again. I want you more than you could ever know, princess…" Slowly, Ambessa bent to cover the distance between you two. Your heart skipped a beat, and you let out a muffled sound of protest as she kissed you.

Her lips were softer than you expected. She tasted bittersweet. You didn't want to acknowledge the bubbling fluster in your chest, or how your legs grew weak. Your skin was hot, and you moaned as she gripped the back of your head and kissed you deeper–

"How dare you touch the princess?" You gasped as your chambermaid suddenly appeared, having finally found you. She was accompanied by other knights, and you gulped when they drew their swords.

"She's done nothing wrong. She...she was only confused! She m-meant no offense." You shoved Ambessa away to breathlessly speak. Your maid raised her eyebrow.

"She has defiled you. She, a trophy of war, thought herself worthy enough to touch the daughter of the king!" The knights moved toward Ambessa, and she prepared herself, but you stepped in front of her, voice hard.

"Then let me punish her. She is mine, is she not?" The maid glanced at the knights. They seemed to silently communicate before she snarled.

"With all due respect, everyone knows you treat that thing favorably. If you administer a minor punishment, word will spread that you are weak…and it will eventually reach the king." You knew her statement was more of a threat than anything, gritting your teeth in annoyance. She only wanted an opportunity to have Ambessa killed, and sadly kissing a royal was grounds enough for the guillotine.

If I don't push her away now, how long until something like this happens and I can't protect her? You knew this would happen again. You needed to protect her. You took a deep, wavering breath.

"...I will exile her from the capital and send her to the north. Are they not in dire need of manpower there?" At your words, Ambessa immediately stiffened, and you shut your eyes.

The northern border was full of monsters, and being sent there was seen as a death sentence. However, you knew that if you didn't do this your maid would rat you out to your father. Then?

He would definitely have Ambessa killed, and he would make sure you watched.

"If I do this, will you be satisfied?" The unspoken question of will you tell my father hung in the air. Your maid smirked, and you wanted to boil her alive.

"It is sufficient. Now come, there's no need to keep near a being that doesn't know her place, is there?" Your maid tilted her head with a sickly sweet smile, and the knights sheathed their swords. They won't even allow me to say goodbye.

You had just dictated that Ambessa die a gruesome death, and now you would leave her like this? You wanted to stay and tell her your true feelings. That you did care but couldn't love her while she was forced to stay by your side like this. However, you only nodded, accepting your role and standing beside your maid.

"Good. You're becoming more like a ruler each day. Congratulations, princess. Now take it away." You wanted to gag, but instead you held your head down, as the knights moved to grab Ambessa. You tried to block out the sounds of her struggling, flinching when she called out to you.

"Princess…" You bit your bottom lip. Your vision blurred with hot tears, but if you wavered now the maid would surely tell your father. If he knew you cared for Ambessa, that you actually thought the kiss was divine…how long would it be before he got her killed? You swallowed, forcing a look of displeasure on your face as you glared at your precious knight.

"Didn't you hear? You'll be stationed in the north. Isn't it befitting?" You forced a sinister smirk onto your face, mockingly tilting your head.

"A disgusting thing like you will be right at home with those vile monsters. Who knows? Maybe you'll find a beast that can actually love you back too."

—

That was the last time you saw Ambessa. You had abandoned the idea of happiness after that, only content with your spies updating you that she was still alive in the north. However, you hadn't known she had gained a following and power there.

You had heard of the rebels. Hell, you had hoped that they would overthrow your father and end your miserable life. However, you had never expected this.

"A-Ambessa…?" You whispered with wide eyes, shocked to see the woman you had loved right before your eyes. She was bigger now, terrifyingly massive as she stooped over you, skin riddled with scars.

"Yes, master…" You jumped when her knees hit the floor. Her hand still holding your face dragged you forward against your will, and you could only muster up a whimper and she roughly kissed you. You felt she wanted to eat you whole, unable to push her away as she used her strength against you. She chuckled at your fretful squirming, calmly pressing her lips against your mouth and stealing your breath away.

Weren't the knights that had dragged you here still in the room? You couldn't do such vulgar things before them! You struggled, but Ambessa merely pushed you down, pressing your back against the bloody floor as she coaxed out a pleading whine from your throat.

"I'm here." You heaved as she pulled back, staring down at your weak form as if you were a delicious snack.

"Y-you lead the revolt? Why?" Your questions were feebly spoken, still worried she'd kill you. The rebel leader smirked, rising from the floor to grab her sword. Your eyes widened as you realized it was nestled deep into the back of your father, releasing a horrid squelsh as she jerked it out of his body.

"For you of course. Well, maybe to fight off the tyranny and oppression too." You squeaked when Ambessa suddenly stabbed her sword down before you, laughing at your terror, "but mainly? For you, princess."

You quivered as she lifted her sword to trace its top against the bodice of your dress, moving to lift your expensive necklace off your plush skin. "You don't know how long I spent in that frozen wasteland dreaming of having you in my grasp again. I nearly went insane–"

"Nearly? I'd argue you did." You didn't dare turn away from Ambessa, only using your eyes to glance at one of the rebels coming towards you two. The man looked as wretched as Ambessa as he smirked down at you, whistling low.

"Is that her? Now I finally understand that obsession of yours. She's pretty even when she's covered in blood." Ambessa only glared at him, and he quickly raised his hands up in surrender.

"I know I know–she's yours to rip apart." Rip? You trembled, not wanting to know what that meant. Clearly Ambessa hated you enough to take over the entire kingdom just to have her revenge.

#ambessa x reader #arcane x reader #arcane #ambessa medarda #ok it is slightly edited because i couldn't help reading and then going 'NO?NO?NO?#god the amount of times i went 'IM NOT READING ANY MORE!!!'

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