#getting this in right at the end lmao

[hotshotsxyz]

Happy holidays and happy 911 Gift Exchange to the lovely @julianbaashir ! I hope you enjoy this silly firefam fluff! And a huge thank you to @paranoidbean for setting this whole thing up!

And That's What You Missed At The 118

(firefam) (buddie) (1.4k words)

cabin pressure inspired firefam fluff with a little buddie for fun!

No one at the station is stupid enough to say the q-word. If someone was an idiot, though, it wouldn’t be an inaccurate way to describe the shift. They’re five hours in, and the single call they’ve gotten was for a malfunctioning smoke detector. 

And Buck. Is. Bored. 

And about to make it everyone’s problem. 

He’s got a plan.

Step 1: Gather the team.

“Chimney! How’s my favorite brother-in-law?” Buck asks cheerfully, dropping to the sofa. 

“Depends,” Chimney says, raising an eyebrow and looking up from his book. “What are you about to ask me to do?”

Buck holds a hand to chest, mock affronted. “What have I ever asked you for anything?”

“I seem to remember a couch that was occupied for an exceptionally long time,” Chimney replies. 

Buck waves his hand. “Aside from that.”

“Well–”

“Anyway!” Buck interrupts. “That’s not important. What is important is that you grab Hen and anyone else you can find and meet me in the kitchen in twenty.”

“Pretty sure Hen’s still drowning in paperwork, Buckaroo,” Chimney says. 

“And that, my oh so handsome and intelligent brother-in-law, is why you’re going to be the one to get her.” Buck bounces up from the couch and grins. 

“You know,” Chimney calls after him as he heads towards the stairs, “Maddie and I aren’t actually married.”

“Not yet!” Buck tosses brightly over his shoulder. 

Step 2: Find an ally.

“Hey, Probie! Good to have you back on A-Shift!” Buck claps Ravi on the shoulder. 

“Dude, I graduated like three months ago. I know you know my name,” Ravi says flatly. 

Buck bites down on a grin. “Ravi,” he says imploringly, “I need your help.”

“Mm,” Ravi hums. “Nope!”

“C’mon,” Buck whines, “It’ll be fun! I just need you to distract everyone for like two minutes.”

Ravi pats him on his shoulder. “Should’ve started with ‘Ravi’ instead of ‘Probie’, then,” he shrugs. 

“I said it was good to have you back!” Buck protests. 

Ravi leans back in his chair and stretches. “Good to be back,” he grins. “Did I hear kitchen in twenty?”

“Yeah,” Buck grouses, “but it’d be more fun if you were in on it.”

“Nah, I’ll wait for the surprise,” Ravi deadpans. 

Step 3: Find a different ally.

Eddie glances up from the journal he’s writing in before Buck gets a chance to say anything.

“Oh, I know that expression,” he says fondly. “What are we about to get up to?”

“See,” Buck says, not even trying to keep from smiling, “I knew there was a reason you’re my favorite.”

Eddie pushes away from the table and gives Buck his full attention. “About time you admitted it,” he says. 

Buck feels himself go a little pink, but ignores it in favor of explaining The Plan. Which is really quite simple. And maybe less of a plan and more of a game. Anyway, it’s called–

“The Traveling Lemon,” Eddie interrupts with a grin. “I remember. You want me to distract everyone while you hide it?”

The urge to press a smacking kiss to Eddie’s lips in thanks for his brilliance is… surprisingly strong. Buck will deal with that some other time. 

“Got it in one, I have no idea why I bothered with Ravi,” Buck says. 

“Nobody’s got your back like I do,” Eddie says. It sounds like a joke, but damn if it isn’t true. 

“Hell yeah,” Buck says, bumping Eddie’s fist. 

Eddie nods at the door. “Go ahead, I’ll keep them all occupied.”

Step 4: Hide the lemon.

The game is simple. Hide a lemon in plain sight, and send the rest of the team looking for it. It’ll keep them occupied for an hour, at least, and Buck will get the satisfaction of making everyone’s day a little brighter. It’s the perfect plan, and it just needs the perfect hiding spot to go along with it. 

Buck pulls the lemon he’d snagged from the kitchen out of his pocket and sets off to find the perfect place. 

He steers clear of the loft, where he hears Eddie telling a story he’s heard before, one that Buck knows will give him almost six minutes exactly to hide the lemon. 

The locker room is his first choice, but the glass walls (which, by the way, he’s been at the 118 for six years and he still doesn’t get that) rule it out. The bunk room is too obvious, and the team would catch him on the way to Hen’s temporary office. Which leaves one of the trucks, or the gym area. 

Or something even better, Buck realizes as he glances up at the stairs. They’re open to the bottom, and the gap between the steps and the frame is just wide enough…

He stashes the lemon and jogs up to the kitchen. 

“The lemon,” Buck announces dramatically, “Is in play.”

Half the team groans, but Buck knows his team well enough to know that competitiveness will get the best of all of them. 

Step 5: Wait for someone to find the lemon, then return to Step 4.

Or, Buck thinks three minutes later when the station alarm sounds, accept that the EMS gods have it out for you. 

“It was a good try, Buckaroo,” Hen says, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Chim says with a friendly shove towards the engine. “We can pick it back up when we get back to the station.”

Ravi drops Buck’s helmet onto his head as they jump on the truck. “I’m almost sorry I didn’t agree to help in the first place,” he says, grinning. “I’m sure someone will find it when we get back, though.”

Buck drops into his seat next to Eddie and goes to remove the helmet. 

Eddie grabs his wrist. “Careful, Buck, you already tempted the EMS gods once today,” he smirks. 

“Oh come on, you don’t believe in the EMS gods,” Buck whines. 

Eddie shrugs. “Fine, take it off, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Alright boys,” Hen calls from the front, “that’s enough banter. We’ve got a serious situation.”

The atmosphere in the truck immediately sobers. 

“Cat up a tree on Sunset,” Hen deadpans. 

The entire truck breaks out laughing, and doesn’t quiet until they reach the scene. 

Step 6: Rescue a cat (that probably doesn’t actually need rescuing).

Ravi’s operating the ladder, Eddie’s climbing it, and that leaves Buck to comfort the distraught cat owner. 

The young woman sniffs and rubs her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just… Honky’s not supposed to go outside at all, but I thought he’d be fine in the backyard.”

“Don’t worry,” Buck says, “Eddie’s got him. He’s the best in the business.”

The woman looks up from her shoes. “I’m sorry for wasting your time,” she says quietly. 

“Hey, no waste!” Buck says cheerfully. “We’re here to help, that’s what we do.”

“Thanks,” she says with a hesitant smile. 

From the tree, Eddie calls down to them. “Got him! We’ll be on the ground in no time.”

The woman heaves a sigh of relief. She stares at Eddie for a moment before looking back at Buck. Or, actually, her eyes track a little above him. 

“Can I ask you a question?” she says, suddenly far less hesitant. 

“Sure,” Buck says with an easy grin. 

“Do– uh, do firefighters usually have lemons taped to their helmets?”

Buck’s jaw drops. 

“Told you someone would find it!” Ravi calls cheerfully from the truck. 

Step 7: Find and delete every single picture taken during Step 6. 

Within half an hour, Buck gets a text from Bobby. 

Is this what you all get up to when I’m away?

The attached picture is of him in the truck, laughing, eyes glued to Eddie, with a lemon taped to the top of his helmet. 

So, okay, maybe he needs a Step 8. 

Step 8: Return the lemon to play. 

“Nice job, Buckley,” Eddie says, leaning against the railing next to him. 

“Not going to look for the lemon?” Buck asks, bumping his shoulder. 

Eddie grins. “Oh I know exactly where it is. Top of the fridge, in the bowl of bananas.”

“Damn, Diaz,” Buck whistles, “You’ve got an eye for this game.”

“Nah,” Eddie says, “I just know you. Still bored?”

“Nope,” Buck says happily as Chimney darts past them, head on a swivel, only to run directly into Hen in the loft, “mission accomplished.”

Hen and Chimney both dissolve into giggles. 

Eddie looks at him with that soft expression he always seems to be wearing these days. “Mission accomplished,” he agrees.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

summer of junior year 06/11

[itseghost]

very straightforward redraw because this quest and this whole scene have been ON my mind.

[basslinegrave]

pin-up

b&w originals

[royaltea000]

I love Bai Long Ma he truly don’t gaf

[why-the-heck-not]

today very much wasn’t as cozy as the pictures of it, but let’s pretend it was

[vaguely-concerned]

having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????

[gunsatthaphan]

"do you agree? - yes."

[bullagit]

due to personal reasons i am now firmly on team “i hope aziraphale does change heaven for the better actually (going on the assumption that his return is as straightforward as it seemed etc” 

like if the alternative is just this ohhh he’s so NAIVE and SOFT and so WRONG and he’ll have to LEARN A TOUGH LESSON etc etc nonsense then yeah 1000% go for it babe knock it out of the park

i hope choosing hope and kindness pays dividends. i hope the soft traits that made other characters continually disparage and underestimate him and his intelligence turn out to be his greatest assets bc i kinda don’t give a shit about a “toughen up it’s the only way everyone else knows better” life lesson for this character

(which like honestly a lot of the rhetoric is dismissive of the fact that persistent goodness in the face of an existence of disparagement takes great strength and that at the end of the day aziraphale has always been able to stand up in his own way)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?

uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!

[tulakhord]

the thing about the black sails finale is that dead/alive is a false dichotomy, which is why there lingers this need to vote for a secret third thing. it has roots in the same false dichotomy of victim/perpetrator that silver cannot get himself out of, that eleanor cannot get herself out of, that silver tries to put madi into, that max understands and weaponizes, that vane crawls out of at his very end. the answer is that james escapes the narrative, or rather the narrative can no longer contain him. the question of james flint or james mcgraw is a false dichotomy that can no longer contain him. he becomes the secret third thing, or is becoming it, in season four. he is unmade because he is removed. as far as the story is concerned, he is dead, because the storyteller can no longer conceive of what he has become.

[shima-draws]

Me? Drawing Tododeku for the first time since *checks calendar* APRIL of LAST YEAR???

[reineydraws]

based on that one bert and ernie behind the scenes photo of jim henson & co. :')

i drew this for fun and then i started thinking about how robin could be a two-person puppet dick's parents created and puppeteered together and dick inherits it when they die and he ends up passing it along to subsequent siblings to use together when he creates his own nightwing one and then i got emotional about it + the inherent quality of family-as-legacy that the robin puppet represents 🥺🥺 they have to share the role. robin means not being alone!!

bonus lol:

[wazzi2ya]

After some time of dating, when Husk and Angel decide to get married (by Lucifer, as the closest thing to "holy" authority in Hell), the moment they exchange rings they can each feel the chains of their deals pulling and then breaking, freeing them from their contracts since, once married, their souls belong to each other.

(add on: inspired by this)

[lokh]

what do you think toshiro's version of laios would've been like if he was still with the group during the shapeshifter shenanigans

there have been a few speculations in the tag and among the fans and they are all very good SO i am going to take this opportunity to insert a bit of my shipping bias as i like in my interpretation LMAO agdsfgdfgv

i noted that in actuality shuro seems to have a very good grasp on laios' character??? this is most obvious in the manga later on but even seeing how he criticises laios in their fight... iirc nothing he says is actually untrue or wildly exaggerated, and while he does express frustration over something he feels like laios Should have control over (noticing his cues), he is also aware that laios isnt being malicious and that hes Just Like That. what i mean to say is that while i think his version of laios may seem more pushy and in-your-face, i dont think it will be overwhelmingly so. if its post-fight, i think the idea of laios (and marcille) being willing to do anything to get falin back made a big impression on him, as well as the idea that they need to eat and rest in order to succeed in their goals, so those aspects would be prominent in his version. he seems pretty observant, so i think for the most part the physical traits would line up, but i think there would be specific things that stand out to him that would appear strangely striking on his version of laios (like. idk something about his eye colour or the subtle contrast of his armour and chainmail. he seems to have a weird sense of aesthetics if extras are anything to go by lmao). if hed actually been paying attention all those times laios had gone on about what the hell ever, then it might be even MORE hard to tell apart his version since he would also have a good grasp on what laios should know. so either his version of laios is pretty difficult to pick out, OR despite the character being accurate his appearance is too. stylised lmao (exaggerated features or something) OR!! they just get him to pull out his monster gourmet guide thing and are able to tell from there. iirc everyone was surprised at its appearance so its possible toshiro had also never seen it before

IN MY IMAGINARY SHIPPING SCENARIO............ lets say that his laios isnt able to be picked out immediately and that the monster guide thing also doesnt immediately occur to anyone. what the real laios Specifically notices is how close this other laios keeps getting to shuro. and hes like. ??? why is he getting so close to him, theres no way i get that close to him??? but no one else seems to be picking up on it as weird, so hes having a small crisis like do i REALLY get that close to him???? and now that hes on the outside he notices shuro subtly leaning away and he feels both a wave of shame and..... protectiveness??? (JEALOUSY??????) and he immediately steps in and grabs him like Hey!!! cant you see hes uncomfortable???? weve been through this already!!! and like. ok i cant believe im doing this again but i need to separate this into different endings

a) the whump route: i dont think shuro ever envisioned Actually Telling laios about his frustrations outside of being basically cornered into it. has he ever spoken up against what was expected of him?? has he ever been confrontational???? i think part of what held him back from expressing his frustrations, along with the cultural norms, could be fear of what the reaction would be. if he had done the same in any other aspect of his life (his family, his inheritance), i think he would expect disappointment, disapproval, more proof that he doesnt add up to expectation. to be honest i dont think he Truly believes that laios is the type of person to react like this. but it was strong enough to prevent him from acting and i think would be projected onto his image of laios. maybe fake!laios says something dismissive like Well if it really bothered him hed say something right? what, he cant even stand up for himself? cmon, shuro, prove that you cant handle it just like everything else. and thats pretty much the fastest giveaway that it isnt really laios. of course this would be a HUGE tonal departure from what the actual episode/chapter was, so:

b) the dumbass route: both laioses break into fisticuffs, and, yes.... barking. and so they speedrun the entire encounter as the shapeshifters true form appears and, after laios points out that thinking too hard about others versions of you can tear apart groups and peace of mind, they pointedly do not speak of it again. they think about it though. a LOT

c) the normal route: both laioses argue normal like and the group ends up being able to tell them apart because the fake laios goes on a little too long about how theyre all here for falin and everyones like ok its not like he DOESNT love his sister but.......... the rest of the scenario probably goes like canon, though then i would want to see what everyone Else thought of shuro

[shalomniscient]

i just woke up, it’s 7am and i’m having thoughts about jingliu…

if there was one person on the luofu who knew jingliu the longest, it was you. not the high cloud quintet or the cloud knights, you. the daughter of jingliu’s master, and the stubborn sword champion’s personal healer. she entered your life as a gangly, hungry girl who could barely hold a sword in both hands—and now, she’s the greatest warrior the luofu has ever seen.

but more importantly, now, she’s your wife.

it seemed almost like an inevitability, that you’d fall for her. for all that she was your mother’s disciple, you didn’t see her much as children. jingliu would always be training, and you would always be studying. it was only after she became a member of the cloud knights, and you a member of the alchemy commission, that things would really start to blossom—like a lotus flower, bright and pure.

you were the only healer jingliu really trusted and even allowed to heal her. the warrior had a stubborn streak several miles wide, but perhaps it was the echo of your mother in you that had her obediently heeling to your treatments—a fact that always awed her fellow cloud knights, who teased her relentlessly about it. “whipped,” they’d say. jingliu would only grumble and grudgingly thank you, before leaving the clinic and decidedly and publicly putting every one of her squadmates on their asses during a sparring match.

but nonetheless, it is no one but jingliu who comforts you when teng xiao arrives at your door, a set of armor folded neatly in his arms, and a grim, apologetic look on his face. that night it is jingliu who sits by your side, letting you weep into her shoulder as she awkwardly and clumsily attempts to console you. grief burns through you like a wildfire, but jingliu is there, her presence soothing and cool like moonlight. you both fall asleep tangled in each other’s arms, finding that, if nothing else, there is comfort in shared loss.

the next morning, you ask her about it as you both still hold each other close. jingliu’s mouth opens and closes, struggling to choose the right words. “i swore to her that i’d protect you,” she answers. it makes you smile, just a little, even if grief still twists sharply in your heart.

“you’re protecting me by cuddling me?” you tease her, and her pale cheeks flush.

“that’s— i believed you might have needed—“ she stammers, and you cut her off by pressing closer against her cool body.

“i’m just teasing,” you whisper against her skin, arms tightening around her muscular form. as if to ground yourself, as if to assure yourself that she’s really here. “i appreciate it, jingliu. thank you.”

at your words, the warrior relaxes. her voice is barely higher than yours when she replies, tinged with a hint of tenderness. “of course.”

jingliu is different, after that. you guess that it’s because you are all she has left—much the same in how she is all you have left. there is a gentle awkwardness to her now, like someone who has never known how to be soft trying to learn for the first time. she sits patiently as she lets you fuss over her wounds, knowing that you need this, that you need to know she’s alright. she only looks away when you get a little too close, when she can feel the warmth of your breath on her skin, and she hopes you don’t notice (you do).

she comes to the house whenever she can, which feels just a little emptier without your mother’s commanding presence. she stands shoulder to shoulder next to you at the counter making dumplings, her rough, battle-scarred hands dwarfing your own more delicate ones—but she wraps the dumplings with finesse all the same. you eat them together, quietly, but the silence is comfortable. you know each other enough that words are unnecessary. these nights you can only ever fall asleep in her arms—and she can only ever fall asleep in yours. neither of you question it, but what is there to question anyway?

jingliu ends up being many of your firsts—including your first kiss. it happens on one of those nights, tangled in each other’s arms, with nothing but a sliver of moonlight to illuminate jingliu’s pale face. you feel her pulse jump under your touch, as your thumb traces the ridge of her cheekbones and your lips press gently against hers. kissing her is nothing grand, no fireworks or butterflies—just the quiet sense of finally coming home.

jingliu is your first time, too. her hands trail down your body with reverence, lips pressing kisses like prayers against your skin. she brings you to the edge of heaven with her fingers and her mouth until you lie boneless on the sheets. she kisses you while your essence is still smeared across her lips, and you eagerly return the favor.

jingliu is your first and only love. it’s the soft, quiet kind, more of a respite than a whirlwind in and of itself. a shelter where both of you can return to, when the world becomes too much. you’re there for each other at the lowest lows and the highest highs—jingliu attends the ceremony as you’re sworn in as the cauldron master of the alchemy commission, eyes trained only on you as you accept the honor. and you attend jingliu’s ascenscion ceremony for the title of sword champion, standing at the forefront of the crowd, a proud smile on your face. to jingliu, that is her true victory.

and yet, even as the sword champion, there are still things she fears—like telling you she loves you. it takes a grand amount of coaxing from her new friends—a blacksmith, a high elder, and a pilot, respectively—before she works up the courage. she whispers it against your neck one moonlit night, intertwined with you in the sheets. her voice trembles ever so slightly, her breath fanning unevenly against your skin, and she tenses when you laugh softly. but the tension bleeds out of her immediately when you say it back, and she slumps against you, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

(baiheng and yingxing later force her to buy them drinks, and she does so, grudgingly. after all, they were right when they said there was no way you’d say anything other than ‘i love you too’. dan feng only attends for the free alcohol, but he is happy for her nonetheless.)

your marriage is a quiet affair—or as quiet as it can get, with baiheng and yingxing together on the guestlist. but it is perfect, to you and jingliu. the rings were crafted by yingxing, inlaid with stones baiheng discovered along the trailblaze. neither of you actually wear them on your fingers due to your jobs, but none other than dan feng gifts the both of you corded red rope to loop the rings through and wear as a necklace. it becomes your greatest treasure, even centuries down the line.

the next few months of your life are calm and routine—until jingliu returns home one day with a teenager, of all things. the boy has long, shaggy, white hair, and curious golden eyes. He reminds you of a cat.

“this is jing yuan,” jingliu introduces to you. “my disciple.”

the boy greets you politely, before jingliu sends him off to an empty room in your home for him to claim as his own. once the boy is out of sight, you turn to jingliu, quirking a brow.

“disciple?”

she nods. “yes. i believe he has potential.”

you only hum at her answer, stepping forward to fix her collar. she lets you fuss, as you always have, and then presses her lips against yours gently, her hands on your waist. “trust me,” she whispers, and you do.

jing yuan fits into your life more easily than you expected. a sharp-witted young man, quick with a blade but even quicker with his words. it isn’t long before you grow fond of him as well—in an almost parental sort of way. before you realise, you start fussing over him the way you fuss over jingliu. it seems you’re not the only one susceptible to jing yuan’s charm, since the newly formed high cloud quintet adore him just as much—baiheng, especially, is delighted to have another little brother figure besides yingxing. jingliu is no exception; the pride in her gaze as she watches jing yuan train is visible to anyone.

nowadays, your home feels fuller. it is no longer just you and hingliu making dumplings—another pair of hands, sometimes even another three appear to help. the dinner table is full more often than not, and there always seems to be more plates in the sink. sometimes you find purple fur on the floor, or the occasional jade-like scale in between your couch cushions. but joy, you learn, is fleeting. nnd no one ever notices it is here until it is gone, ripped from your hands before you can even blink.

jingliu is your first and only love. she is also your first and only heartbreak.

everything you’ve built with jingliu over the course of centuries crumbles in a matter of days. the battle against shuhu is vicious. you can barely even keep up against the constant stream of injured that flood the alchemy commission. you and your colleagues down energising pill after energising pill to stay on your feet and support the xianzhou forces. tet the news from the frontline would nonetheless bring you to your knees.

baiheng, dead. yingxing, cursed. dan feng, imprisoned. and worst of all—

jingliu, mara-struck.

the ten lords commission keep her under strict watch in a holding cell. you barely have the time to visit, what with the number of patients that demand your attention. jing yuan is the one who visits her, by his authority as the new arbiter general. he speaks to you when he can, updates you on her condition—but you’ve treated enough cases to know when something is bad, even if jing yuan tries to assuage you with purposefully vague wording.

she barely recognises you when you approach her. her beautiful ruby eyes are covered by a ragged, black cloth. thick, metal bindings encircle her wrists and restrain her arms behind her back. you call her name, quietly, gently, trying your hardest to stifle the tremble in your voice. sometimes, there is a flicker of recognition. most of the time, there is nothing.

you return to an empty house. it’s so, so cold, and your bed is far too big. you hold tightly to your ring, praying that jingliu be spared this fate. but the aeon does not listen.

because no more than a few months later, jingliu breaks free from her confinement, and rampages across the luofu. smoke chokes the air as ice and frigid wind sweeps across the epicenter that is jingliu. but instead of running away, you run towards her. the ice seems to part and melt before you as you run. you need to see her.

instead, all you witness is the majesty of the lightning lord, as he strikes down your beloved.

nothing remains of jingliu. they find no body, not even any remnants of armor or personal effects. after that, they strike her name from every record for her dishonor. all her achievements, her victories—erased. as if she never existed. you are forced to resign as cauldron master in shame, with your apprentice dan shu taking your place.

you feel… nothing. only a pervasive, parasitic emptiness spreading through your entire being. you spend your days in a bed in a guest room—you can’t bring yourself to set foot in the room you once shared with her. the kitchen lies deserted. you barely feel hunger or thirst, or any sort of sensation. and yet, you keep living. your cells respire and your lungs draw breath, and your heart still thumps in your chest—even as your soul rots and decays.

the only thing—or person, rather—that stirs you now somewhat is jing yuan. he has lost everyone too, this general who will always be that curious-eyed boy to you. you do your best to pick yourself up; if not for yourself, then for him.

(but jing yuan knows. he sees it in your eyes, the truth of the matter. the guilt that gnaws at you, that compels you to keep fussing over him.

you think that caring for him will help you atone for the way you failed jingliu. he wants to tell you that his master would’ve never thought such a thing. but he doesn’t, and lets you mother him all the same.

he needs this too.)

jing yuan appoints you as his personal healer, even as his advisors protest. they question your ability—after all, how could a good healer not even mend the one she loved most?

that moment is the first and last time you ever see jing yuan angry. it fades as quickly as it comes, however, and you are appointed as his personal healer nonetheless. you remain by his side for the next few centuries, watching as he grows more and more into the role of the general. the pain of your loss doesn’t heal—not fully, at least, but it scabs over.

still, you can’t help the ache in your chest when jing yuan approaches you one day, a young boy at his heels.

“this is my disciple, yanqing,” he introduces. the boy has flaxen hair, and expressive amber eyes. there’s a fire in them, a determination that you remember seeing in a pair of ruby ones. he greets you, politely and a little shyly.

it’s a painfully familiar scene, and the best you can manage is a wordless smile.

yanqing becomes another target of your fussing soon enough. he squirms when you check him over for injuries, insisting that he’s fine. the boy is incorrigibly stubborn. but in the end, he is still a boy. his enthusiasm, unmarred by grief and loss, brings a liveliness to your monotone life. you can’t help but sneak a few more extra strales into his pockets for swords when jing yuan isn’t looking.

(but he knows. jing yuan always knows.)

you are not happy, not truly, not without her, never without her, but for now you are content. the boys in your life give you reason enough to keep going.

yet your life turns upside down once more when the stellaron bursts on the luofu. jing yuan keeps you away from the whirlwind of conflict, assigning an elite squad of his knights to guard your house. it makes you curious, but the answer reveals itself to you only a few days after the crisis is resolved.

there, standing amidst the unconscious bodies of the cloud knights supposed to guard you, is none other than the ghost of your beloved.

she’s as beautiful as the day you lost her.