#dearvivienne

୨⎯ how they show they love you ⎯୧

╰┈➤ INCLUDES : fang runin, yin nezha, chen kitay, sring venka, altan trengsin, baji, ramsa

fang runin (tpw spoilers)

by fighting for you and protecting you.

rin is no stranger to the cruelty’s of war, however she would happily burn islands full of people to the ground if you so requested for her too even if it meant she had to relive the guilt of mugen. she would launch herself in front of su daji or an army of hesperians, fully naked, weaponless and her contact with the pheonix sealed off if you needed protecting.

she’s far too aware of what it’s like to loose people or watch those you love wither away, so she does anything in her power to prevent you from being the next victim of mortality.

you knew she loved you as soon as she began telling you about her life before sinegard, and her time under altan, because everyone knows she’d rather keep that to herself - and yet she trusts you with it. she smiles as she tells you all about kesegi or how beautiful altan looked with the wings of fire he’d curate. however she also tells you about how lost she felt after altan died, her encounter with the chimei that haunts her dreams some nights - how you’re her distraction from all the loss she carries.

yin nezha (tdr spoilers)

in the most cocky, proud way possible.

he’s been through a lot in life and he’s constantly hurting, but being with you feels like a breath of fresh air and because of that he’ll never shy away from proving he’s in love with you.

he loves to kiss you quick before you both head into a council (much to rin and kitays disgust as they follow behind you), or spending the time he should be sleeping following you around on patrol. he’s also definitely a sucker for back hugs - he’ll find you while you rest between sparring sessions and trap you against him just to ignore your complains that you’re overheating, or find you while you’re helping kitay with battle plans and snake his arms around you and bury his head into your shoulder despite kitays fake gags and comments to ‘get a room’.

he also shows that he loves you by being truly vulnerable around you - he’s the heir of the dragon republic, and even before jinzha was killed he still felt like he had to uphold appearances to prove he’s just as strong as his big brother, to prove he’s fit to be a general. but with you he’s not afraid to cry after a particularly gruelling battle or after an argument with rin or his father, he’ll let you trace the outline of his dragon tattoo gently as his breathing slows with relaxation despite just the thought of the image on his back causing him pain, he seeks out a place in your arms after each time he or you almost died.

he knows he was an asshole back in sinegard, and so he loves to make up for anything he ever said by treating you like his queen - refusing to let you sew up the hole in your uniform even though he barely knows how to hold a needle, making sure you’ve eaten your fill even when you’re surviving on limited rations by giving you half of his portion, somehow convincing his father to limit your patrol time or at least put him with you so he knows you’re safe.

bonus: he ALWAYS has a little trinket you found/made for him shoved into the inside breast pocket of his uniform - a shell, sea glass, stone, carving into a circle of wood, a bracelet made of washed up fishing nets, whatever — he keeps it close to his heart, like you’re the one that’s kept him alive though all his near death experiences, like you’re his wartime spouse that he’s longing to return home too.

chen kitay

in the most quiet ways, ways in which anyone but you might be convinced he doesn’t love you - silently but calculated.

one of kitays favourite ways is silent reading time - moments between patrols where the two of you sit next to eachother, your head on his shoulder, both engrossed in random books you found buried in piles of things, occasionally pausing to talk about what’s just happened in both with a giggle.

he won’t sling his arm around you in public, or invite you to share his uncomfortable bed when your rest times match up (although he will occasionally when he’s extra tired and wants to be in your presence) - but he will let you sit with him as he curates various small inventions that might help the war, or as he studies battle plans with furrowed brows trying to figure out how to guarantee victory.

sring venka

by acting like she doesn’t love you.

THEEEEEE tsundere (i’ve not used that word in years lol), she’ll act like she couldn’t care less about you being around her despite having previously confessed how head over heels she is for you.

she pretends that she doesn’t care that you’re following her around, blabbering about some rumour you heard from another soldier, crossing her arms after firing a round from her crossbow during training while acting like she’s not completely enamoured by the way your eyes light up when explaining a new concept you read about from one of kitays books. but in reality her cheeks are turning pink at the way you’re smiling at her, and her heart rate is speeding up so much at the way your hands brush when walking next to eachother that she’s worried it might jump out of her skin.

however sometimes she lets this facade down, because she trusts you and that’s how you know she loves you - she shows you the vulnerable side she vowed to keep hidden from everyone. when she wakes up in a cold sweat following yet another nightmare about her torment at golyn niis and immediately seeks your comfort out, and when she sinks into your arms and her breathing slows once again and she falls into a light slumber, you know she’s truly in love.

altan trengsin

in private moments of fleeting touches and comfortable mumbles.

in public, the most he’ll give you is a quick whisper of ‘stay safe’ or ‘i love you’ in your ear, or a soft smile during a meeting to let you know you’re plaguing his mind as usual.

altan is the kind of person to shut down under pressure (as we’ve seen lol) and refuse to speak to people unless needed, the kind of person to snap at everyone around him when under pressure - except you. when he’s overwhelmed, he craves your presence more than anything and will send for someone to bring you to his office, where he’ll ask you to stand between his legs and just sink into you - his arms around your waist, forehead pressed against your sternum as he exhales the stress pressing against his temples.

in private, he’s unafraid to prove how much you mean to him - his hands are constantly seeking you out, his knee resting against yours, smiling as you lean your head against his shoulder, a soft kiss pressed to the top of your head as he mutters a shy ‘i love you’ — because nothing else matters except you in moments like that. he feels like he can almost forget the rage and vengeance that’s constantly masking his judgement, that’s constantly contorting his thoughts and feelings, like you’re the key to his real mind.

baji

by teasing you RELENTLESSLY. this man is SO mean but in the most loving way that you can help but adore his teasing comments.

he doesn’t often say ‘i love you’ because that feels far too serious, that feels too much like a promise of forever, and everyone knows that shamans don’t have forever. so instead he falls back on poking fun at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, relentless teasing all while he looks at you like you single handedly hung the stars.

however - in private moments, usually late at night, or after a particularly scary battle where he came close to loosing either you or himself, he’ll find nonverbal ways to remind you that all his teasing comes from the most loving, deepest part of his heart. he’ll sit next to you, an arm draping around your shoulders, sitting in silence with his leg pressed against yours.

ramsa

as loud and proud as possible - the cutest fucking kid ever who will never shy away from telling you or even showing you how much he loves you no matter the situation.

in the middle of a meeting with the rest of the cike? he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and whispering silly little comments in your ears about how altan looks like he wants to strangle someone, or that baji is nodding off to sleep after having night watch. just finished a battle, covered in the blood of those you’d just killed? his arms are squeezing your shoulders from behind despite altan or chaghans comments to behave.

he’s purely just a playful, annoying kid at heart, and isn’t afraid to show everyone just how much he loves you - because if he can find his soulmate in a world plagued by war, why not show off his miracle?

however like baji, if one day after a particularly hard battle he’s riddled with anxiety of loosing you - he’ll pull you aside, hug you in a way that buries your face into his shoulder, make you promise to stay safe next time because he loves you and he can’t loose you.

my first ever post!! why is tumblr so confusing :,( i started the poppy war at the start of summer and i have slowly realised there is NOT enough fanfiction etc so for once i’ve resorted to writing it myself! lol

i’m terrible at knowing if things are in character etc so sorry if a few are a bit ooc (they’re most definitely probably ooc in terms of tbg because i’m current only on tdr sorry!)!! and apologies for no chaghan, qara or suni - i want so badly to add them in future but currently i have no idea how to write for them oops. in future i will 100% add them to other hcs, and maybe add jinzha??? i am a SUCKER for an mcs older brother, that scrumptious man (no pun intended).

୨⎯ MASTERLIST ⎯୧

The Poppy War

headcannons etc…

how they show they love you (♡)

as songs in my playlist

if you sacrificed yourself (☆)

fang runin…

in every life (☆)

yin nezha…

against all odds (♡)

with a reader inspired by saraswati (♡)

chen kitay…

always you, always us (♡)

persuaded academics (♡)

without you (☆)

due for a reminder? (♡)

sring venka…

the only man i ever loved (☆)

altan trengsin…

last of a kind pt.1 (♡)

last of a kind pt.2 (☆)

chaghan suren…

part time nurse (♡)

☆= angst, ♡ = fluff

୨⎯ against all odds ⎯୧ (y.nezha x reader)

╰┈➤ INCLUDES : spoilers for the dragon republic, au where viasra goes with them to boyang, opposites attract, VERY ooc nezha (but the nezha we deserved)

wc: 3.5k

“this is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,”

“well, love makes you do stupid things i guess,”

you and nezha had met during sinegard - same class, same year, wildly different lives.

he was raised with a silver spoon in his mouth - son of the dragon warlord, groomed to be a leader from the first time he opened his eyes, looks that even the sun would pause to admire.

and then you - you were raised in the sticks deep in boar province which notoriously yielded peasant farmers and not much else. tanned skin, knees constantly bruised from kneeling down to plant seeds, just enough money to buy a pot to piss in. you worked yourself to the bone from the moment you’d found out what sinegard and the keju were, refusing to be another nameless, expendable peasant.

so when you first laid eyes on sinegard - when you first laid eyes on him - you weren’t sure whether to be amazed or disgusted. he was gorgeous, his clothes embroidered with his family crest like it was just any pattern, the blue colour of the fabrics something you barely saw back home due to how expensive the dye was. all while masses of people were barely putting food on the table back where you came from.

as soon as he opened his mouth, you knew he had the ‘pretty boy attitude’ to back his status and wealth up.

therefore obviously - you joined forces with rin and dragged each other through school because you each saw yourselves in the other, a lowly peasant who actually earned their place at the school. someone who knew what the real world was like outside the sea of porcelain women, markets littered with gemstones, and embroidered family crests paraded through the streets. you stayed and cheered her on when she beat nezha on a couple of occasions, not even backing away when she first called the fire.

in a similar fashion, rin kept an even closer grip on you as you called on the gods for the first time - she held you as you cried over the new found anger always looming at the back of your mind, she resonated with you when you felt moments away from going insane.

and after the third poppy war broke out you followed her to the militias 13th divisions, the cike.

the cike could be lonely at times, travelling across nikara with a handful of people you knew could be killed at any time, or that could go insane at the snap of a worn down string.

you paid little notice at khurdalain when nezha turned up to help you fight off the federation along with his fathers men. rin might have began falling for his charms - but you would never. you’d never let your heart twinge again like it did back at sinegard as you watched nezha being stabbed in the abdomen, severing his spine. because that feeling was weakness, and hell if nezha was about to make you weak.

however as the gas rolled in over khurdalain you felt your heart twinge once again, fighting against altan along side rin to rush towards nezha, pull him out of the vile yellow substance colonising the air. and when he disappeared behind the yellow screen - you almost, almost felt your eyes well up.

and so the shock you felt even through your drugged state when nezha strolled onto the ship the cike had been tied too could almost be mistaken as relief to see that unwelcome face again. and even as he looked down at you with half of his face covered in winding scars and his lips tugged up in a condescending but permanent smirk, you still growled internally at how gorgeous he remained.

you rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand as you strolled up to the deck of the seagrim, fighting to keep your eyes open and yet everytime you closed your eyes back in your chamber you seemed to jump up in a cold sweat.

“i suppose the many late night watch shifts and constant feeling of unsafety when we’re fending for ourselves is catching up to me,” you think to yourself.

as your eyes adjust to the dark, with only the moon bathing the deck in light at this hour, your eyes land on a familiar form leaning against the railing of the boat. the same blue robes you cursed back at sinegard, just now laid over the back of a much taller, obviously grown up boy.

much to your distaste, you feel your feet leading you in his direction without complete permission from your mind. ending up leaning against the fence next to nezha.

you look up at him next to you - you'd not really had much of an opportunity to take in his appearance since the cike had been, for all intensive purposes, kidnapped. his hair was much longer than when you’d last seen him, pulled back into a slick bun behind his head, over a head taller than you now when previously his eyes had annoyingly been in perfect level of yours. and his face, you assumed he wore half a mask in order to hide his new features, however you annoyingly thought he looked just as perfect as the first time you had laid eyes on him back at sinegard.

you barely realise you’re still staring at him until he breaks the silence, “couldn’t sleep?”

you quickly avert your eyes from his face, instead choosing to watch the river waves gently crash against the side of the seagrim.

“just can’t shake the feeling that i’m constantly in danger is all,” you shrug.

nezha however ignores your response, resulting in you having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“why do you still seem to act like you can’t stand being within 10 feet of me?” he enquires, his eyes staring holes into the side of your face.

you stand there in silence for a moment - were aristocrats not taught subtlety or manners at home?

before you can give any sort of response, nezha jumps in again, “you’ve given me the cold shoulder ever since we picked the cike up - but i saw your eyes at khurdalain as i was being engulfed in that gods-awful gas. you cared,”

you scoff.

it takes you multiple minutes, the moon in a slightly different place in the sky as you muster up the courage to respond to him, clearing your throat before hand. “i don’t know why i cared,” is all you can think of to say.

the two of you stood in silence for a few moments, nezhas eyes not leaving your face for even a second - before he smiles. he actually smiles. you only see it out of the corner of your eye, but the unfamiliar sight somehow warms you internally - suddenly feeling as if you would cut down everyone who got in the way of that view.

the next evening you make your way back out to the same area of the seagrims deck, having to fight back sleep a little more tonight as your mind begins to settle and realise you’re technically safe for once.

as if deja vu, nezha is stood in the exact same spot as 24 hours ago. and once again - you make your way over to stand next to him.

the boy makes some little comment about how ‘you like my company that much?’, however you choose to ignore it, the smug asshole.

his eyes study the side of your face, like he’s taking in the details of your face in the same way you were yesterday. part of you can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking about - and the thought causes a wave of heat to rise up to your cheeks which you chalk down as embarrassment. after all you weren’t used to people staring at you, it didn’t matter if it was yin nezha staring or some peasant farmer from the village next to yours back home.

nezha breaks the silence again, eyes not leaving your face as he does so, “have we got a truce, then?” his voice is almost soft, you can feel yourself practically being enticed into it.

“a truce?” you mumble, refusing to look him in the eyes and instead studying the river bank passing by the side of the boat.

nezha chuckles, you think it’s a lovely sound, despite your attempts to ignore that thought.

“well you’ve not tried to kill me, or even tried to argue with me, while before i couldn’t go a day without you making a snarky comment at least.”

it frustrates you that he was right.

but why was he right? you hated yin nezha, he was the same kid that got into sinegard based on status while you worked yourself to the bone during your childhood, the same kid who made comments about your tanned skin to seem cooler when around the older student, the kid who couldn’t help but nudge the back of your knee when walking down the many stone steps.

but something was different about him - he seemed more humble, humane, sweeter. it felt all to familiar, the kind of thing you’d read in the library while trailing along behind kitay. the way you felt as if you’d do anything to see him smile, as if you’d cut down anyone who hurt him, your heart beating against your rib cage and cheeks becoming warm to the touch even in the cool evening air as he studied you.

after that night it was as if something clicked between you and nezha. he’d join you while everyone ate to engage in something of an enjoyable conversation, when the cike were tasked with backing rin up at autumn palace he even told you to ‘be safe’, and afterwards looked relieved to see you.

you don’t know how it happened but you began looking forwards to your conversation with nezha, like they were a way to wash off the stress of being at war, like nothing else mattered when you could hear his voice.

and a few days before you arrived at arlong - he kisses you.

you’re not entirely sure how it happened, one moment you were talking on the deck of the seagrim under the moonlight as you did most nights, and the next he had a gentle hand cradling the back of your head as his lips pressed to yours. you’d be lying if you said it was a good kiss - you had both spent your teen years, during which many people would usually be dating, fighting in a war. but it was nice, and all of a sudden you couldn’t imagine ever letting go of the snarky asshole you were so sure you hated.

a few days after arriving in arlong, the weight of vaisras plan really began to set in, was it really possible to beat su daji?

and so nezha has the idea to drag you up to one of the cliffs he found himself at the top of many times as a child, pulling you out of bed at the crack of dawn with just a smile and ‘the sunrise will make it worth it’. and well, who could resist a sunrise? or that face?

you trail behind him, chest rising and falling in quick succession as your thighs burn - you hated doing this much exercise this early, your body needed atleast half an hour to wake up before you could muster up enough energy.

as you get to the top you flop down into a crossed legged sitting position, your hands resting behind you as you throw your head back, eyes pressed closed as you catch your breath.

nezha just laughs, sitting down next to you. after a minute as your breathing starts to slow back to normal, you open your eyes and look out at the view. because oh was he right, it was worth it.

from here you could see practically all of arlong beneath you, every winding river, every serene waterfall, from civilian houses to the boat yard. a gentle morning mist was drifting just above the houses, and the lack of clouds in the sky meant you could perfectly see how the sky was painted in beautiful oranges, pinks and purples above everything - like a guardian angel sitting over the city.

“worth it, right?” nezhas smirk can practically be heard in his tone, but all you can manage to respond with is a soft ‘woah’. this was the kind of view you didn’t get in the monkey provenance, the kind of view you could see yourself waking up to everyday after this was all over.

the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while as you watch the sun rise into the sky, causing a soft golden glow to bathe the two of you - you glanced at nezha for a moment, and of course it made him look impossibly more beautiful, but unlike before you gave into your feelings it now only made you smile.

“i’ve been thinking,” nezhas voice cuts through the silence, interrupting the quiet sound of bugs in the grass around you.

you don’t audibly respond, but you nod, before leaning your head against his shoulder, cheek pressed against his uniform as you let out a content breath.

nezha take a deeper breath than usual, opening his mouth once before closing it before he says anything, as if nervous.

and after a moment, “we should get married,” he blurts out, eyes watching the sunrise still.

you don’t think you could’ve possibly sat up any faster, your eyes wide as you look at him, “i’m sorry?” you question as your mouth threatens to hang open from shock. did the elevation cause a lack of oxygen to his brain?

he’s quick to defend his comment though, “we have no clue what’s going to happen in the next few days, weeks, months, whatever- i’ve never been more sure about anything— about anyone. we might never get the chance in the future, so why not?” he looks like a little kid asking his parents for another piece of candy, pleading almost. you’re not quite sure if he’s serious first of all, and if he is serious you’re not sure if you should call him and idiot or kiss him.

you stare at him for a while, eyes slightly wide and mouth hanging a little agape.

however the more you think about it - he’s right. you could die tomorrow, and you weren’t sure what love was like but this had to be it. you couldn’t bare being away from him, he was constantly on your mind when you were apart, you’d started actually thinking about the future for once - as you had stopped hoping for one before now since the future wasn’t a luxury the cike or shamans ever got.

“gods- you’re right. so why not, we could die tomorrow,”

and you do just that.

you don’t have any elaborate service, you don’t tell anyone about it, it’s not even technically a legal binding (because who would be giving our marriage licenses in the wake of civil war?). instead the next day you both make your way back up to that same cliff at sunset, stand face to face and try to guess what people would usually say at weddings with the sparse knowledge you’d earned from books over the years.

but that’s all you need, the two of you, an impulsive but inevitable confession - the two of you promise to love each other through sickness and health and more. you’ve never felt so certain about anything in your entire life, even if you are promising your future to the same kid that years ago you would have given anything to go back in time and not have met.

“this is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” you chuckle softly, his hands pressed gently into yours as you face each other, arlong laid to the left and the sun setting on your right - casting a gorgeous golden glow across nezhas face.

“well, love makes you do stupid things i guess,” he smiles back, his expression nothing but pure content as he wastes no time in kissing you, like he’s locking in your shared promise.

because you could both die tomorrow, but at least you’d die promised to yin nezha.

you ended up choosing not to tell nezhas father, or any of his family for that matter, because even with the stress of war there’s no question that he would have some elaborate way of punishing you. as there’s no possible way he would ever be happy that one of his sons had essentially married a misfit, a time bomb waiting to go mad, a member of the cike, in the only way possible during war. even if it wasn’t done legally yet, vaisra wouldn’t care about that when it came to his punishment.

however you do choose to tell your friends - and at first they’re sceptical of your reasoning, confused why you’d do something so serious on a whim. kitay especially, the boy who at sinegard became like a brother to you, can’t see what you two do and is convinced you made a rash decision you’ll soon regret.

but eventually they begin to come around, and while they’re not 100% on board with your decision they have no place to tell you how to live, and so they accept your choice and support you both the best they can muster up.

whenever around vaisra (or anyone outside your friends and the cike for the matter) you push each other away momentarily, pretending you’re still on the fence about trusting each other fully.

but still, like any good husband should do - when jinzha dissolves the cike demotes rin, he rushes straight to vaisra to defend your honour.

nezhas hand is firmly around your wrist, his grasp still somehow gentle as he drags you behind him with purpose, heading towards his fathers office on one of the docked ships. he hardly even knocks before slamming the door open, standing in the doorway and dropping your wrist as vaisra requests the people around his desk come back later to finish the discussions about boyang, sensing this wasn’t a conversation he’d like to have around so many people

after the last man leaves the room and shuts the door behind him, nezha wastes no time. “jinzha just ordered for the cike to be dissolved,” he states, seething just from having to say his brothers name.

vaisra just nods, a calm expression on his face, “i know.”

nezha looks at him, an expression between disbelief and anger, lips slightly parted as his eyebrows furrow - his expression alone saying ‘huh?’.

“he can’t do that.” nezha clenches his jaw, taking a step towards his fathers desk.

“he can, nezha, jinzha is the grand general,” vaisra reply’s, his voice as calm and steady as usual.

nezha scoffs, looking over at you next to him as if to say ‘can you believe this?’, before redirecting his gaze back to his father. “well he shouldn’t be able too,” you can almost hear his teeth grinding together as he speaks.

vaisra cocks his head to one side, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, challenging nezha to go on and elaborate on what exactly he means.

nezha takes the nonverbal invitation and runs with it. “they’re valuable if we want to win this war - they’re strong, reliable and work incredibly well together, they’re like a well oiled machine where each of them is a separate cog. if they’re separated it’s just a waste of their strength since they work better together!,” he takes a breath before continuing, as if pondering whether he should say his last thing or not, but deciding he should because what could he loose? his father can’t exactly fire him, he’s a valuable general and his son.

“you can’t let jinzha dissolve them just because his precious ego can’t handle their commander talking back to him.”

you’re barely listening as vaisra responds to nezha - instead you’re admiring him. you couldn’t care less right now if vaisra is threatening to execute the cike and nezha immediately or if he’s agreeing with nezha and promising the cike royal treatment. because all you cared about was that nezha, who usually bit his tongue around his father incase he risked what little of his approval he had, was belittling his father and his brother just to protect you, rin and the cike as a whole.

you knew in that moment you’d made all the right decisions leading to this moment - you were ment to be here, by nezhas side, it must be written in the stars. you loved him with every inch of yourself, even if you never thought you’d have the luxury of falling in love.

i have a major love hate relationship with this. please ignore any spelling mistakes and how rushed the end is i finished it at like 2am LOL

୨⎯ tpw characters as songs in my playlist ⎯୧

╰┈➤ INCLUDES : fang runin, yin nezha, chen kitay, sring venka, altan trengsin, baji, suni, ramsa, chaghan suren, qara suren

fang runin

would’ve been you - sombr

let the world burn - chris grey

m.i.a - katseye (‘no you won’t put a leash on a bitch’ LIIKKKEEEE)

INVU - taeyeon

set fire to the rain - adele

soldier, poet, king - the oh hellos (as the soldier)

yin nezha

let down - radio head

family line - conan gray

mamas boy - dominic fike

castle - ateez

selfish waltz - ateez

family line - conan gray

soldier, poet, king - the oh hellos (as the king)

blind love - &team

chen kitay

the great war - taylor swift

moon song - pheobe bridgers

soldier, poet, king - the oh hellos (as the poet)

my tears ricochet - taylor swift

home - wei

sring venka

lacy - olivia rodrigo

girls never die - triples

labour - paris paloma

altan trengsin

i know the end - pheobe bridgers

E.T - katy perry

baji

(my brain is empty ˙◠˙)

suni

nightwalker - ten

ramsa

run wild - &team

chaghan suren

imaginary friend - itzy (i can’t explain it but TRUST)

ancient dreams in a modern land - marina

fuyu no hanashi - given (idea from @kisses4denji !!)

qara suren

bon voyage - dream catcher (‘all cells are directed towards you, even if we’re a little distant we’re together’ heelllooo)

i’m currently working on a request BUT i fear i have way over complicated it so it’s taking a while cuz i’m a slow writer & i’ve been busy making my outfit for an incoming concert i’m going too between seeing my friends while they home from uni - so i’m very sorry it’s taking a while! ive had this in my drafts for a while so i thought id post it so my account isn’t in a total drought LOL.

i wrote this on the train a while back and spent like 1 out of the four hours each way going through my playlist like i was a detective and then completely forgot about it, so i dug it out from the depths of my notion page!

୨⎯ last of a kind ⎯୧ (/p!altan t. x reader)

╰┈➤ INCLUDES : /p = platonic, childhood friend reader, spoilers for ‘the poppy war’, mentions of mugenese testing/abuse, altan’s a softie at heart

wc: 2k

“i said, lift your arm,” a slap rang out, bouncing off the walls of the stone room - you could almost hear it rattle off glass bottles filled with various organs and bodily fluids which decorated the room.

your eyes stung with unshed tears as you followed the demand, lifting your arm out straight with a shaking hand as your cheek began to pulse and heat up where the hand had just come down.

just like each and every other time, the sting as the needle pushed into your skin caused you to let out a whimper, eyes threatening to start watering. and once the needle had been retracted, you had to bite the inside of your cheek in that same place which was now swollen and starting to bleed, arm tingling.

your mind felt fuzzy, feet feeling like they were floating along the floor as you’re led to an all too familiar cell and thrown in clumsily, knees knocking against the cold stone floor and grazed hands coming down to catch your fall as best as possible.

the screech of the cell door closing behind you is all you need for the tears to begin spilling from your eyes, instinctively crawling to the boy only a year or so older than you who sat in the corner like usual.

he says nothing - he doesn’t need too, not that he could say much even if he wanted too. his arms wrap around your tiny shoulders that shook like a leaf, chin resting against the crown of your hair which built with grease from a lack of washing. he pulled your frame into his own small lap as he tried to hide the way his own body shook, trying to forget today’s experiment which left his head fuzzy and limbs feeling like a pin cushion.

you look up at the boy through glassy eyes, the familiar face soothing you as much as possible. you’d never seen him before until you were thrown into a small stone cell following a long, torturous boat journey from speer. you didn’t know why you were here, why youd been taken from your mothers arms, who the boy in front of you was, why you felt an immense sense of calmness whenever you looked at him.

his crimson eyes were oddly comforting for something that mirrored blood, his hair greasy and matted, his skin dark in a shade that mirrored your own. yet his harsh eyes drew you in like a blanket, his arms wrapped around your shoulders felt like freedom and home at the same time.

all you knew was his name - altan trengsin. one of the few things he knew how to say, and the only thing you knew apart from your own name.

your throat almost burned as you tasted fresh air for the first time in as long as you could remember, rather than the sickly smell of chemicals and blood. your hand safely tucked into altans as you knelt down, gasping through glassy eyes.

you didn’t understand a word the man knelt in front of you was saying, and you didn’t care much for whatever he was telling you as long as it meant no more experiments.

and no matter what the future outside that small cell held, you were at least comforted by the fact that altan would be there with you, holding your hand, a safety net to fall back on when things got hard. a replacement for the big brother you don’t know if you ever really had back on speer.

being a year apart made harder than it may have been for anyone else passing through sinegard. the two of you spent an entire year apart when altan began there - breaks when he could leave the campus feeling like they couldn’t come fast enough while the weeks he was free flew by as if someone had written less time into existence, filled with studying for your own keju exam.

and so when his second year rolled around and you took your first steps through those big gates, it felt like his heart could finally slow down a few beats again - no longer having to worry if you were safe without him, no more waiting for your various letters to appear in front of him in the mess hall.

however when you managed to accidentally pick a fight with a boy in your class within the first week of class, because he made some inconsiderate comment regarding your appearance, altan was an odd mix of angry on your behalf and worried for you. he knew you could hold your ground obviously, you could easily keep up with him when sparring (sometimes even disarming him) - he was worried what the boy might pull.

“i’m not going to actually fight him - he took my response completely out of context and jumped to the conclusion that i wanted to fight, i’m simply just going to talk to him,” you shrug as you make your way towards the area behind a building you were yet to step foot in during any of your classes, altan trailing behind you in a way he would with no one else, like a guard dog.

“that’s not how this works, [name],” altan voice comes out in a tone that could be mistaken for a growl, running a hand through his tussled hair.

the cool evening air blew past the two of you, having opted to have this what you hoped would be a short conversation about the misunderstanding, after classes to avoid any suspicious prying eyes from fellow students or professors.

“why? are you worried i won’t be able to talk myself out of this like usual?” a bubbly giggle falls from your lips, a stark contrast of the sour expression on the man behind you, looking over your shoulder to make eye contact with him.

“no,” he said firmly, tone almost faltering as his eyes met yours, “just— it doesn’t usually work out like that, and if it gets physically you’ll be penalised,” he explains, trying to sound rational. but in reality he was catastrophizing - irjah wouldn’t allow one of his two self trained child weapons to be suspended or expelled in a worst case scenario, and these petty start of term fights never went too far, it was just the physicalized anxiety from what was to come in students first year mixed with being in a new place.

“it won’t get physical, since you’ve followed me all the way here - so you’ll be here to protect me if needed,” your eyes look forwards again as you round the corner of the building, eyes landing on the boy in your class. altan mentally cursed himself, he hadn’t meant to follow you all the way here like some overprotective brother, as he knew deep down you’d be fine.

as altans eyes landed on his form he immediately realised he did in fact have no reason to worry. the boy was at most 5’6ft tall, muscles barely developed beneath his oversized uniform which was obviously a hand-me-down from an older brother, pupils constricting as he noticed altan behind you. of course, he was just some warlords son who got into sinegard based on status - someone who hadn’t realised you weren’t just some southerner with an overly positive attitude thinking sinegard was your time to become someone, but the second known surviving speerly who had said other speerly trailing after her with an expression like fire at all times.

just as you’d predicted, the exchanged ended within two minutes with the boy acknowledging you hadn’t meant to come off as if you were looking for a fight, and he even agreed not to make further comments about you in general.

all while altan stood behind you, arms crossed and eyes seeming to reflect a flame that wasn’t there — warning him.

you barely knew what genuine worry was until altan left sinegard and was whisked off to the cike almost immediately. when he was at sinegard alone you knew irjah would be there to watch over him, that he’d be safe within the stone walls that had taught the most important military figures for decades. but in the cike, he was scurrying off across the country eliminating those who threatened the empress.

so the same day of your graduation, you immediately sought out tyr, the commander of the cike, ready to threaten him into recruiting you. however you didn’t need to look far, you didn’t need to even speak - he sought you out himself, requested your presence in the militias 13th division (much to altans distaste).

throughout the build up to the third poppy war you remained in the cike, firmly by altans side - and when tyr disappeared and altan had to step up, you stayed firmly in the same place. an unspoken promise from childhood which kept you attached to his hip in and out of battle, through rough tasks and celebratory evenings following success.

and so when the downtown explosion in khurdalain rattled not just the city but also the cike, both mentally and physically, you couldn’t help but worry about him - and ‘worry’ didn’t begin to explain the half of it.

after hours of helping in the triage centre, you were finally permitted to leave and rest, although rest wasn’t on the front of your mind in any form. as if on auto pilot you immediately began the trek to altans office in order to check in on him. despite not being bound like chaghan and qara, sometimes it felt like you were in ways both mentally and physically twinned.

from afar you see qara slip out of altans office door, her eyes almost glossy and as you got closer you could almost smell smoke from her clothes. you entertain the questions directed at you from the other cike members for a moment before excusing yourself to slip into the same door qara had just escaped from. you didn’t bother to knock - it didn’t feel necessary anymore, because your presence was never unwelcome.

altans head whips up from the papers he’s studying on his desk, mouth opening as if to bark an order or question the meaning of a mystery visit while he was so overwhelmed, until he notices who was standing just inside the door.

you apply some pressure to the door by leaning back against it until it clicks closed behind you, taking a few steps towards his desk as his expression visibly softens - like he’d smoked a pellet of opium each time you blinked, his worries suddenly easing on his shoulders.

“i don’t think qara will appreciate smelling of smoke, it’ll be kind of hard to wash it off for a while with all the chaos,” you say with a soft smile tugging at your lips, hands hanging behind your back srill as you approach him.

altan almost chuckles at your comment, a tinge of guilt evident - something the others wouldn’t have gotten from him, and even if they did they probably wouldn’t have noticed it. “i didn’t mean too, i’m just-“ he sighs, fingers pressing against one of his temples as if to try relieve a headache.

“i know,” you cut him off, rounding his desk and leaning back against it just next to him, hands splayed against the wood behind you.

you both sit in silence for a moment before you push yourself up again, taking a step towards him with arms hanging open. altan accepts the gesture like it’s muscle memory, arms snaking around your waist and forehead resting against your sternum as your hand tangled in his hair, an attempt to soothe him you’d picked up as children, the same gesture altan would offer you back in the cell.

“who knew being commander was so much stress,” he mumbles, slightly muffled by the fabric of your uniform tunic.

you chuckle, unable to respond verbally before he continues speaking. “i didn’t know someone could be this angry constantly - even me,” he sighs, sounding as if he was letting out a breath he’d been holding since the bomb had exploded earlier on.

altan was hardly a polite man - he was angry, he craved vengeance for an island he hardly knew, the phoenix may as well have two fist fulls of his hair as it directed him like a puppet. but being around you was different.

you were calm, levelheaded, rational, you never let your anger get the best of you and he wouldn’t even be able to tell you had contact with the phoenix if you’d never called on the fire in front of him, you were plagued by opium addiction and had a stable grasp on your god - you were sane. you had a pure soul, and it tended to rub off on him when you were around.

“being around you makes it fade away for a moment, my heads clearer and i’m not— consumed by rage.” he sighs, and if you didn’t know any better you might have thought his voice was breaking and he was tearing up.

altan trengsin - the scary cike’s commander, a man almost constantly overtaken by rage, reduced to a much calmer, borderline soft man when around you — his lifeline since childhood, the one who kept him sane while the phoenix screamed for total control.

this is one of my first times writing like this (recounting a period of time/relationship) so i hope it’s readable and makes sense!!

i was tempted to also write about altans death BUUTT i wrote this at 1am after finishing the dragon republic and couldn’t bring myself to make myself even more sad (justice for my beautiful men baji and suni, and my son ramsa bro) — HOWEVER, i might write a part 2 for that & then reader dealing with the grief etc.

lower case is intended - apologies for any spelling mistakes!

୨⎯ persuaded academic ⎯୧ (c. kitay x reader)

╰┈➤ INCLUDES : established relationship, awfully cliché and cringe ‘question for kiss’ storyline, chen acts-of-service kitay, kitay is the brains reader is the brawn’s

wc: 1.1k

“this really isn’t as difficult as you’re saying it is - it’s basic strategy,” kitay sighs the moment your head hits the open book in front of you.

“you have to face the enemy of 5,000 men in an unknown location, with no idea of the terrain or conditions - how do you arrange your similar sized army effectively?” his voice is slowly growing more frustrated, ending each sentence with a sigh as if every question is diminishing his will to live.

based on the location of the moon outside the library window you guessed it was about two in the morning. you and your hardly sympathetic boyfriend kitay had agreed to study together for your upcoming strategy test that master irjah sprung on you in class today (although it quickly became him tutoring you instead), and you were growing frustrated. it was no secret to anyone who knew you that you were a fighter, not a planner like kitay - you excelled in combat, so the idea of studying strategy for more than 10 minutes was worse than the thought of death. which oddly, made a match created in heaven - who ever said opposites didn’t attract?

kitay knew this, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to offer you his help - and he never learnt his lesson. each time he left just as frustrated as the last time.

your cheek is smushed against the open textbook, a prominent frown on your face as you whine, “i don’t know! tell them all to run in at the same time, start swinging and shooting,” you mumble, mostly joking. however the implication made kitay cringe and drag his hand down his face.

“c’mon kitay! it’s late, i wanna sleep,” you groan, sitting up straight again and leaning back in the uncomfortable library chair, giving him your best pleading face. your eyes were willing themselves to close, your back and neck aching as if you’d been waging a war for months on end, your growing brain cloudy.

kitay however is unaffected by your lame attempt at puppy dog eyes and just rolls his, “do you think the enemy will care how late it is during battle? you’re going to fail strategy if you don’t concentrate - we’re not leaving until you answer at least that last question,” he sighs.

you groan again, throwing your head back - anyone might think you belonged in a school for the arts pledging drama.

after a moment you sit up with a completely revised expression, now wearing a borderline evil grin, “can we make a deal?”

kitay sighs once again but doesn’t refuse you, “go on.”

“every question i get correct, you have to give me a kiss,” you let out an evil giggle after speaking.

kitay had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes again, “you are so incredibly cliché, you know that? which romance books did your mother send you this time?” kitay thinks for a moment, “but fine - anything to get you to concentrate.”

you almost jump up from your seat from joy. kitay was the best boyfriend you could’ve wished for, the kind you’d have fallen asleep dreaming about as a child - however he was anything but the biggest fan of physical contact. he showed you his love through actions, through unspoken favours, through remembering the little things and more. kissing, hand holding and hugging were much further down on his relationship checklist - so him agreeing to your terribly cheesy and cliché idea was like finishing a day of classes without any new homework assignments.

his agreement immediately peaked your concentration, you sat up in your chair as if good posture would increase the flow of ideas into your cloudy, tired brain.

“you have to face the enemy of 5,000 men in an unknown location, with no idea of the terrain or conditions - how do you arrange your similar sized army effectively?” kitay repeated, this time sounding a little more patient than the first time.

you ponder over the situation for a moment - you still had no clue what the correct answer might be, but you felt as if you could pull factors from questions you’d previously answered earlier this evening.

“send a small squadron arranged in a turtle shell formation to analyse the terrain and collect information about the enemy but send them in from a different direction than the one you will attack from, then they’re protected from enemy fire and they can relay information about the battlefield so you’d have some time to plan the best course of action,” you ramble off, a far too smug look on your face as you do so. you knew it wasn’t a good plan by far and kitay could of course think of something much better, however for thinking on the spot it wasn’t terrible.

kitay thinks for a moment, as if visualising your suggestion, before tilting his head to the side and shrugging, “there could be improvements, but it’s better than your first answer — see? it’s not that difficult to think of some sort of plan,” he huffs, but almost looking like he’s going to chuckle at your proud expression.

you throw your hands in the air and lean back into your chair again in a silent celebration, suprised you’d thought of anything whilst being this tired. and the best part? kitay had to fulfill your stupid agreement.

you stand up from your chair after a moment, stood in between yours and kitay’s chair as you bring your hands up to rest gently on his cheeks, a proud smile on your face.

kitay winces as your hands make contact with his cheeks, “your hands are freezing,” he groans, however his cheeks are slightly warm under your palms, so you know he’s not entirely mad about your agreement.

you scoff, a smile still on your lips, “well yeah, it’s late and therefore freezing.”

before kitay can throw out any witty retorts, you lean down and press your lips to his, eyes pressing shut as you lean in. kitay takes less than a moment to return the kiss, one of his hands resting atop of yours on his cheek as if it keep it from moving - i knew he wasn’t as against this as he tried to act, you think, unable to stop yourself from smiling into the kiss.

you tilt your head to one side for a moment to deepen the kiss before pulling away, the same familiar butterflies you got every time kitay so little as looked at you fluttering around your stomach. you press one quick kiss to the corner of his lips before giggling to yourself and sitting back down, crossing one leg over the other with a far too smug look on your face.

kitay seems a mix between flustered, taken aback and joyous before he clears his throat and turns back to his textbook, “next situation—.”

thank you anon for the ask!!!! i finally finished tbg after my last post and i fear i had to take a mental break because even thinking about tpw had me sobbing after that ending :,) i knew what happened (i’m amazing at spoiling things for myself) but it still hit SO hard. ive started reading the cruel prince since finishing tpw and im currently a little happier lol.

i wrote this in like 20 minutes when usually i take like two days of coming back to it and editing so its not my best but i love a good cliché cringe lil fic.

I lov your works btw pls don't die 🙏🏼

୨⎯ if you sacrificed yourself ⎯୧

╰┈➤ INCLUDES : fang runin, chen kitay, sring venka — vague injury detail, angst (i think)

wc: 500-1k

fang runin (tbg spoilers)

“i hate to do this,” riga hums as you watch him tap his blade against the side of rins neck where she laid below him, “killing off the last of you. it’s so final, but you speerlys never gave me any choice - you always had to be troublesome.” his voice is like gravel in your ears.

you’d been knocked down not moments after the missing third of the trifecta had been awoken from his years long slumber, a blow you hadn’t been expecting but had resulted in you loosing consciousness until a moment ago.

you thought this would be a good idea - rin was convinced the only way to beat the hesparians was to force them to face the complete strength of the trifecta, so you’d followed them up this mountain as back up. and yet, now the four of you were practically beaten by the man you’d travelled all this way to recruit.

rigas sword retreats into the air in preparation to swing down at rins neck as your pupils dilate, and the world came to a stand still for a moment. suddenly you had all the strength in the world, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you clamber to your feet and make your way towards them as fast as your limbs can carry you.

you wedge yourself between the two of them the moment rigas sword comes down at a speed you didn’t think was humanly possible. your blade snapped in two at the sheer force of his strength, crumbling between you as his blade lodged into your shoulder. you could’ve sworn you felt the bones being split in two as his blade somehow ended up lodged into your upper chest. part of you grateful he’d swung at the side your heart wasn’t located in, so you had at least one last moment to see rin.

your legs shake as you use every ounce of strength to hold yourself up between the two of them, looking over your uninjured shoulder at rin. she was still in a pile on the floor, sat up a little as she stares at you with the saddest eyes you think you’ve ever seen. which surprises you a little - for such an angry person, you thought she’d have a gaze full of determination to avenge you, but instead she looked like a heartbroken version of the girl you’d first met back at sinegard.

“run-“ you manage to muster up, your legs shaking beneath you and juxtaposing the cracking tone of your voice. as you speak riga attempts to yank his blade free of your shoulder, a searing pain shooting through your upper body as he does so, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip to hold back a scream.

out of the corner of your eye, you notice jiang beginning to push himself up from where he’d crumpled to the floor - a glint in his eyes that told you he wouldn’t let riga push him around this time, that he’d help give rin the opportunity to run.

“go!” you gather up the last of your energy, fighting back the black that’s creeping up on the sides of your vision. you watch as rin’s eyes flicker between the door and you, before pushing herself up from the floor with the most apologetic expression you’ve ever seen on her face - which disappears from your sight as she turns to run to the door.

rin had lost count of how many days it had been since you’d sacrificed your life to give her a chance to run. every day blended into one - but they’d succeeded. arlong belonged to them, and therefore nikan was theirs. the southern coalition had won the war, but rin was still at war with her own mind.

beads of sweat begun to appear on rins forehead as she tossed and turned in her sleep, kitay none the wiser as he stares out one of the many magnificent stained glass window in the yin’s estate. her eyebrows pinch together in anguish, the same dream plaguing her sleep as everytime she closed her eyes.

“run-“ you breathed out, weakeness too obvious in your voice for rins liking as she took notice of the blade lodged deep into your shoulder.

rin wanted to cry but the shock and adrenaline in her system made it feel like her eyes had been sucked dry as a desert. barely having taken notice of what they’d said.

“i’m killing myself so you can escape, and you can’t even listen to me this once?” your voice rings through rin’s ears as the temple around you both fades to black.

but not before you turn to face her, blade lodged deep into your bone as riga fades to darkness. the expression on your face was one rin had never seen on you before - one of hatred, pure despisal and distain.

you knelt down in front of her, hand roughly gripping onto her chin as you tilt her head up to face you. a cruel grin pulled at the sides of your lips, the same one she’d seen before on altan as he plagued both her nightmares and waking moments.

however as you open your mouth to spew hatred into her system, she’s jolted awake by kitay shaking her shoulders.

as rin opens her eyes she notices her sped up breathing, his her heart is hammering so hard against her ribs it feels as if it might burst out, and that her hair is sticking to her forehead due to being dampened by sweat.

she can’t hear anything as kitay’s lips move, but she could guess that he was asking her what’s wrong. kitay always cared like that.

“i’m fine,” rin whispers, not trusting her voice not to crack if she spoke any louder. but she wasn’t okay, and kitay knew that - he could feel it, he could see it in her eyes, the same heartbroken look she’d worn since they’d lost you. they might’ve won the third poppy war, but rin was still fighting with all the loss— your loss.

chen kitay (tpw spoilers)

this wasn’t a battle - it was a massacre. master irjah had been flayed and hung above the gate into the city, the empress had fled, the ninth and twelfth divisions had surrendered and been gathered into prison camps. golyn niis had become hell on earth.

“kitay— listen to me! for once!” you plead as your hands grip onto the blood soaked material of kitays uniform, eyes stinging with tears as you realised your fate had already been decided. no one was surviving this, but if you could help kitay— he might.

“lay down, it’s inhumane i know but i’ll help cover you with bodies like our comrades are doing-“ you ramble, eyes darting desperately between his, then behind him to look out for the federation soldiers you could hear approaching.

“are you insane— what will you do?!” kitay argued back, you could practically smell the fear seeping from his body, just like everyone else. but it was easily masked by the metallic smell of blood that filled the city.

“kitay you’re much more important- your mind could save this country if you survive— *please* just listen to me!” you continue pleading, beginning to grow desperate as the clashing of swords grows closer to you.

“i will find somewhere to hide myself after you’re hidden and safe,” you promise, talking so desperate and fast it’s a miracle he could even understand you.

kitay looked at you like he wanted to take your hand and run, but that would be suicide - the federation and control of every exit from the city, and fighting back had become hopeless. the mugenese were ruthless and bloodthirsty, whatever people thought of speerlys those years ago, you didn’t think it could even compare to the federations military.

after a moment kitay seemed to give in, the exhaustion of battle settling in to his limbs and stopping him from fighting back any longer as he lacked the adequate energy to do so. you gave him a hand as he laid down amongst a handful of bodies - the bodies of the men you’d ran side by side into battle with. he gagged once or twice but soon just closed his eyes and obviously began thinking of how this was necessary.

you take a deep breath and summon up all the energy you had left to drag a few barely cooled bodies on top of him as others had been doing around you, not stopping to take a breath until you could no longer make out where he was yourself.

standing just next to the pile of corpses, you notice how your hands were beginning to shake, something unusual for a trained soldier. this was true fear.

“stay there— when it’s safe i’ll come out and find you again, stay alive kitay,” you wouldn’t have noticed you were beginning to cry if you hadn’t spoke, voice cracking slightly and giving it away. however you’re interrupted by the clashing of swords meerly meters away now - and so you wipe your tears on your blood-soaked sleeve and unsheath your sword.

it couldn’t be many of them, they’d come through this part a few times now - but how you were wrong. you’d planned to fight off the few coming your way and then run to find shelter. but as you stood in a ready position, at least 40 men round the corner.

you barely had time to process any features of the men charging at you before you were skewered on a handful of blades. blood dripped from your lips as you coughed, falling back onto the same pile of bodies you’d just tugged over kitays alive form. as the light fades you can almost hear kitays laboured breathing from under the bodies, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you die knowing he’s alive.

“it’s only a day dearest, don’t miss me too much,” rin’s tone was laced with sarcasm, “i’ll see you tonight,” an attempt to cover up any fear she felt - something that had always mirrored you.

kitay however didn’t laugh, “come back down,” his expression was grim as his hands gripped onto her shoulders hard enough to be grounding, go bring her back to the present. “i don’t care what happens up there, but you come back to me.”

kitays heart broke a little everytime rin and him had to go seperate ways - because everytime he saw your teary eyes back at golyn niis, the last time he ever looked into your eyes. he’d hold onto rin’s shoulder in the same way you did the last time you touched him, and whenever she left he could always hear the sound of your voice in the back of his head.

‘i’ll take care of her on the other side when she one day leaves and doesn’t make it back.’

once rin is almost out of view as she begins the ascent up mount tianshan, for a moment the clouds around her mould her sillouette into something like you— and he almost lets himself believe he’s watching you hike up that path. that he’s letting you leave him alone again.

but at the last moment rin’s familiar outline reappears and kitay has to concentrate on not sinking to his knees in dismay. it’s not uncommon for his mind to play tricks on him and mould the world around him to almost allow him to believe you’re still here with him, but it hurts just as much each time, maybe even more as time goes on.

sring venka (tbg spoilers)

you hadn’t meant to do it, honestly. but as rin began grilling venka about her theoretical, traitorous activities from her time alone earlier in the war, time felt as if it stood still for a moment.

you notice the figure in the window the moment it appears - ironic really, how you noticed it just as venka did and yet she jumped into action before you could blink. even while being accused of being a traitor by one of her closest comrades.

and just as quickly you notice how rins hands are stubbornly pushing back against venka’s shoulders as she lunges forwards to push the tanned girl from the line of fire. to say rin was herself recently was far from the truth, but her new found severe unawareness of her surroundings and clouded judgement was about to get one of them killed.

with time frozen, your body reacts on pure instinct. before your consciousness can catch up with your body you’ve flung yourself directly in front of the two of them. and almost as instantaneously, you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs.

it almost felt as if someone had come along and removed your windpipe within a split second, and panic rises up your spine until you glance down and notice the crossbow bolt lodged into the centre of your neck.

you’ve barely even hit the floor as the life fades from your eyes, you don’t feel the heat rise in the room as rin sends a flame rumbling towards the assassin following a second bolt, and you don’t hear how venka winces as she realises rin has burnt handprints into her shoulders.

it takes a second but as the moment comes to an end, as the danger is quelled and the trio can assume some basic level of safety again, venkas heart sinks as she notices the lack of a presence behind her. as her eyes trail down to the floor where your still warm body rests, for the first time since she was just a girl she feels the urge to sob.

but she doesn’t, the idea of not crying for you is almost physically painful, and yet she kneels there in silence as she gawks over your far too still form. because this couldn’t be real, surely? any moment now you’d push yourself up from the bloodied wooden floor and assure her that you were fine as you always did.

but you didn’t stir, and your chest didn’t start to rise and fall again. and she really has to admit to herself that you were gone - from now on, she was in this virtually alone. but it didn’t make sense to venka - she’d been the one attempting to push rin out of the line of fire, and when rin pushed back she’d realised the bolt would be coming straight for her neck. but it never hit, and instead you were dead.

guess who’s making a comeback!!!!! i hope LOL

anon i hope this does a little bit of justice to what your ask, i wasn’t quite sure how to get all characters in one scenario where reader sacrifices themself for everyone SO i split it up, but then i got stumped on nezha altan and the rest of the cike so it sat in my drafts for a month :,) i’ll probably end up doing a part two with them, but i wanted to post these three and hope it gave me some motivation back!! (i’ve also been busy and sick my apologies </3)

late merry christmas to those who celebrate and happy holidays!! my parents got me the poppy war collections edition and i fear it’s the best present i’ve ever got. plus i’ve been reading babel to start making my way through all r f kuangs books and i can’t get past seeing robin as kitay but im LOVING it

୨⎯ part time nurse ⎯୧ (chaghan.s x reader)

╰┈➤ INCLUDES : probably ooc chaghan, i described altan as a monster but i mean it in a ‘woaaahhh that persons a monster of a human they’re so buff’ way????? i love my speerly criminal, reader is embarrassing lowkey (i relate), brief mention of wounds/lacerations, (also not proofread so ignore spelling mistakes i’m lazy)

wc: 900

“will you— chaghan hold still,” you huff, cotton wool surrounding you where you sat on your bed, a bottle of disinfectant (which was pretty much just some clear alcohol and water) resting against one of your legs.

chaghan should’ve known better - altan hadn’t arrived that long ago, but he’d already been named tyr’s new successor, and while you understood chaghan wasn’t happy— to put it nicely, altan was a monster. freshly graduated, but he carried himself like he was already head of some army, he swung his trident like he was born with it already in his hand.

but chaghan? he was upset that his future position had been pulled from under him like a rug, and he just couldn’t sit there and take it. numerous times challenging altan, fighting tyr’s decision to his face and behind his back, led to altan having enough.

and then they were gone for three days, no sign of them apart from an occasional wave of flames from the valley that clearly came from altan. and when they returned? gods, chaghan was a sight for sore eyes.

obviously altan was beaten up a little himself, but it was nothing like chaghan. his long white hair was singed at the bottoms and considerably shorter, his uniform missing patches either due to being ripped by altans trident or having been burnt away, and he was clearly exhausted- not to point out the multitude of bruises, scratches and cuts across his pale skin.

and so here you were, having dragged him into your bunk so you could prevent any infections from settling in to his injuries, his beaten form sat in front of you (and considerably slumped forwards in exhaustion).

chaghan winces as the soaked cotton wool dabs over a particularly deep laceration on his shoulder, and you could almost see a bruise forming in real time next to it.

“you could’ve just had a civil conversation with tyr and altan, was this really necessary?” you breathe out, less annoyed at him for being unable to sit still and instead just worried about him. you’d know he would be upset at something like this —after all he was promised tyr’s position— but upset enough to constantly challenge altan and then fight (or get beaten up) for it three days?

“i doubt that would’ve got through to either of them,” he grumbles - you didn’t think you’d ever heard him sound like that, his exhaustion was very prevalent in his tone and yet he sounded just as annoyed as some kid with all the energy in the world to put towards challenging authority.

“yeah well- maybe stick to prophecies and the pantheon for a while, so you can heal up properly,” you scoff in reply, reaching for a bandage just next to chaghan.

unable to find any scissors, you decide instead to just further rip his uniform to be able to wrap the bigger of his cuts - after all his uniform wasn’t exactly wearable anymore anyways. you grip the fabric either side of the laceration you were just cleaning, ripping the fabric so the arm of his tunic comes away completely, giving you full access to his shoulder.

“i’ll uh, find you a new tunic after,” you break the silence that had settled in, glancing up at his face for a moment before focusing back on his wound.

chaghan doesn’t say anything, but you can almost feel his glare on you, as if his uniform wasn’t already completely ruined by the speerly he had to challenge a few times too many.

you decide to work in silence, as the man in front of you was obviously still salty about his lack of future command, and you’d rather not become the new victim of his misdirected anger. your hands work quickly as you wrap a bandage around his shoulder to keep it safe from any debris that could cause irritation or infection, before doing the same for the other handful of deeper cuts across his upper body and one of his things.

eventually the silence becomes suffocating- which was odd. you always found chaghan easy to spend time with in silence, just in eachothers presence. but with his anger, it felt uncomfortable and so you wanted to try and adjust that.

“you know, i’m kinda glad altan is now tyr’s successor,” you chuckle softly — wrong move. you can feel chaghans white eyes glaring into the crown of your head as you clear your throat and attempt to finish your sentence and maybe save yourself, “you would’ve been a strict commander- and i can’t see baji listening to you much, you know? so- you saved yourself a headache really,” you chuckle again, hoping chaghan didn’t decide he was done with your comments and completely murder you.

instead, as you looked up from wrapping his last cut, he just stared at you through squinted eyes and furrowed brows as if trying to read you like a book. he simply just stink-eyed you in silence for a few minutes until you spoke up and broke the smothering silence again.

“d’you uh- want me to cut off the singed ends of your hair off..?” you ask, tone unsure.

chaghans eyes trailed over to his shoulder where you’d ripped the arm of his uniform off, and then down to his leg where you’d done a similar thing to wrap that laceration, before looking back at you, “no, i’ll ask qara,” he sighs.

this was my first time attempting to write anything for chaghan so i do apologise that it’s so bad and lowkey ooc :,) it’s been a WHIIILLEE since i’ve read much of chaghans scenes oops i think im needing a reread of tpw and tdr

i tried to go in the direction of “chaghan would’ve commanded like a demon… he would’ve taken away their free will. chaghan would’ve shattered minds” with the whole ‘you would’ve been strict!’ thing but i have definitely underplayed what he would be like LMAO