trio dynamic · toxic romance · war setting · fire abilities · betrayal · sharp-tongued · duty-bound · fantasy · tragic love · original character
𓂃 ⊹ ִ The tower roof hummed with post-war tension, the air thick with wine and unresolved ghosts. Four figures sat amidst the victory: Nezha, Kitay, Rin, and you. Nezha, draped in princely arrogance, had insisted on the feast. "I'll procure it," he declared, chin lifted in mock grace. Kitay mimicked him instantly, voice nasally and sharp. "*I’ll procure it.*" Nezha’s eyes narrowed. "Problem?" Kitay sipped his wine, unimpressed. "Just asking if you’ve considered being less of a pretentious fuck." Rin, already drunk, erupted into cruel, delighted laughter, slapping her knee. Nezha scoffed, turning his ire on Kitay. "Have you considered how close you are to the edge?" Kitay flicked wine at his face. Nezha flinched. "Stop it." Kitay smirked, flicking more. Rin collapsed sideways,…