✧ ˚ ·After the war..

A/n: meow

Contents: angst, fem reader, character death, inspired by the poem included here from the 1939, have fun reading

Words: 552

Your hands shake around the yellowed and hardened paper, previously dry spots being marked by the wetness of your tears now. Not even hearing your own cries, your mind can only focus on the swimming letters that bubble up to your lash line and over your eyes, taunting you like giants and beasts your beloved used to tell you about. 

Faded lights fall in broken leaflets through the window as the sun outside kisses the surroundings mountains, the glass itself broken at the edge.

‘When the war is over,’.. you read again, fighting the urge to choke as you manage to catch each letter from the corners of your tears so you can put them back together, drinking in the familiar handwriting like it is the finest liquor. If you could, you would drink away whatever remained of your life with the contents of this letter, if only you could, but you can’t, and you make yourself read the following words..

‘we’ll get married and the earth will grow flowers like you’, the next line reads, the ink heavy in a few spots and you can imagine Jiyan sitting at some dirty, broken camp, writing the letter with an old quill that spills ink rather than write with it. He is surrounded by huddled men that trust him, that keep following him even if it means following him to the ends of the planet to eradicate this enemy that threatens them all. The smell is heavy from the campfire, and the coals are a roaring red and orange, sending blazes of flames licking up at the midnight sky. He can vividly see the pots of flowers sprouting just outside your window. And suddenly the mere thought of you, your smiling face, feels like a bed of thorns and nettles that he needs to lay in. And the quill in his hand presses harder, making the lines thicker, and he curses his own hand.

‘and your womb will carry the most beautiful girls in the universe.’ 

White hot agony fills you, and for a moment you can swear it is all anger within you trying to claw its way out, yet nothing comes out of you but sobs that wreck your entire body and have you clawing at the sofa in front of you. The cover is a dark teal, you feel cursed for simply touching the color now. Why, why, why, why, why him, why now? Has he been reckless? Has he forgotten the promise?

The edges of the paper are dotted with dark red splotches, and a few dry petals had fallen from the letter when you opened it. This had been found in the pocket on his chest, right over his heart where he thought he would be able to keep you closest to him. None of it mattered now; you clamp a hand over your mouth, your throat hurting raw from how long you spent on the floor like a wilting flower in a storm, your roots not strong enough to help you endure it as they once were.

You curse the world, you curse the tacet discords, you curse the ranger that brought you this letter, and you curse Jiyan for departing, you curse him for not taking you with him.

The world will never feel alive again. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Older doodle of Jien dragon form + Jiyan dragon form. All my friends unanimously agreed that Jiyan would be a huge dragon, and Jien is already big so take a wild guess at what a giant he is.

They're just cuddling your honor ✨🐉

Still working on polishing his design, but I really like how its turning out.

Supportive boob holding anyone?

Idk what came over me, don't ask. I do have to say, I'm proud of this new art style I'm trying to cook up. It's much less straining on me than the way I used to draw before so that's slaying

A/N: Not sure what to say other than that I love writing angst and that I hope you enjoy this anon, sorry for the wait :)

Contents: Familial Jiyan x Twin!Reader, GN pronouns, angst, short lol, character death

Death crawls through the midnight blue washed streets of the Jinzhou, its flaky claws seeking and scratching. And seek out their victim it did. Found in a cozy bed that reeked of illness and herbal medicine. Ashes of incense laid on top of a long wooden tray fashioned in the looks of a dragon.

There were more dragon motifs sprawled around, in the embroidery of the blankets, on the painting, on tea cups and jewelry, but not one of those could protect the one confined within the bed and the one forever gone. Pale skin glistened with the remnants of sweat and water they were bathed in, and their hair smelled of old flowers in summer heat, and it was only going to get worse should they remain here, hand held by the person closest to them.

Jiyan. The General. The Qingloong. The medic in his youth. Their brother.

He had returned from the front lines at long last for a short reprieve, only to find his beloved sibling in a worse state than last time. It horrified him even more than the sights he encountered in war, and it shook him to the core. What’s worse, he could smell death waiting at the front door, and entering behind his heel after he went into the bedroom..

His hands gingerly held onto their cold hand, knuckles pressed against his forehead as he remains quiet, foolishly hoping warmth would spring to their skin and they’d greet him with a ruffle to his hair and call him silly for worrying so much. He swallows thickly, cheeks wet from the trail his tears left behind and he breathes out a breath so heavy, one would question how the world didn’t cave in where he sat. 

“I love you…so much..” he whispers before lifting his head up, eyes fluttering shut to spare himself the sight of their forever slumbering face, his lips lingering on their knuckles in expression of love they’d never feel again.

They didn’t share just blood, they shared their childhood years, interests, and they shared their mother’s womb together. Their bond was one closer than any other, yet it was severed all the same as any other. 

“I miss you…”

Even with all the knowledge Jiyan could’ve plucked from Jinzhou and from the outside nations, all various medical practices and all kinds of healers, Jiyan couldn’t save them.

Maybe in another life he saves them, but in this one he gets to carry their memories until his own demise, forever haunted by their absence. 

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Will you stay?

A/n: save me sad dragon general, save me... sad dragon general you better get ready cause I'm sending happiness your way whether you like it or not

Content: Jiyan x Reader (fem implied, but no pronouns used), angst undertone but it all turns to fluff, Jiyan referred to as a husband, word vomit, non sexual nudity implied, not proof-read, maybe a tiny bit ooc? Feedback is appreaciated

Moonlight cascades through the open window in silky streams, showering the white sheets with silver and shimmer. The world is at peace, and quiet prevails all around, much unlike the main battle front. For only a few hours he spends here, Jiyan feels as if his lifelong wish is fulfilled. A facade it is, a dream, but it is comforting in all its delusion. Maybe one day it will come true, and he won't be forced to abandon your warm embrace for another month, and more, to fight.

His eyes move from the window and down at you where you have nestled yourself against his chest, your arms draped around him. It’s well into the depth of the night, yet both of you are denying sleep that so obviously hangs heavy over your eyelids - as any hour more means longer time spent together. And up until that point he has been listening to you talk about your days in the city, your fingertips tracing his chest and the occasional scar that paints itself thin and textured, different from the rest of his smooth skin. When you trailed off, he was quick to notice. His chin dipping slightly down to look at you.