#maybe ill do a nice follow up between these two 👀

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

So, the holiday sads have been a bit of bitch this year, and this scene has been playing in my head for the past few days now. I feel like the holiday season would be a little hard and lonely for our dear Countess and that she would likely do well with a little extra comfort around this time. I apologize in advance for any angst this may cause ♥️

***

The castle was quiet. Almost so that you could hear the soft patter of snow as it blanked the outside world with it's gentleness. The dark hallways a stark reminder at just how late it was as you made your way towards the servant's quarters. Most days you were done with your daily duties much earlier in the night, but today was laundry day - the day where all the linen that had accumulated throughout week, plus all of the Dimitrescu's personals, were washed.

You stretched your sore muscles, letting out a sigh or exhaustion before continuing your way down the long corridors. You were just about to turn and take the hallway that would inevitably - and finally - lead you to your room, when you caught a warm light coming from beneath the doors of the library. You were certain it was probably Miss Daniela on one of her late night romance novel readings, but still - you thought it better to make sure no one had left the fireplace going unattended, just incase.

The soft creak of the door echoed through the empty halls of the castle but did nothing to stir the person who sat so stilly in front of the warm hearth. You stood puzzled for a minute, entirely not expecting what your eyes had fallen upon.

Though, there the she sat - the Countess of the castle and your employer - with a gaze full of melancholy as the firelight danced upon her prominent features, beautifully accentuating them. A small tea cup in one hand filled with a liquid that no longer seemed to hold any warmth to it. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes as if to hold back the weight of a thousand tears. You had never in all of your years working for Lady Dimitrescu seen her look so sullen before - so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard you enter the large room.

Your fingers fidgeted for a moment, wondering if you should even disturb her. But the sadness that radiated off of her was far too immense to ignore.

"... My lady? Is there anything I can do for you before turning in for the night?"

You tried to keep your tone and words as level and professional as possible, but Alcina was still just as startled by them. Almost dropping the small cup in her hand, she looked over at you - her large frame outlined by a flickering glow and a dusting of tears coating her lashes.

"Mh? My apologies, dear, I was a million miles away." She looked back towards the fire for a moment before continuing. "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be awake at this hour."

"Laundry day." You replied simply.

"Ah." She said with a chuckle, though the soft sound lacked in its usual fervor.

You stood there for a breath or two, waiting to see if she had anything else to add before asking her again.

"Well.." She started, ".. be a dear and run along, then. No use in the both of us losing sleep. Another busy day awaits."

A part of you wanted to obey, to bow at her dismissal and wish the Countess a good night. But the all around flat tone to her words only strengthened your concern.

"Ah.. pardon me for asking, my lady, but.. are you alright?"

Again Alcina looked up at you startled, obviously not expecting such an inquiry. And you could tell she was mulling your question over for a minute, likely wondering if it would be out of line for her to discuss such things with one of her staff. Eventually, though, she sighed in resignation and placed the small cup on the table next to her before turning to face you.

"As far as my general existence is concerned, I am, as they say, as strong as ever." She smiled to herself before leaning back to light a cigarette. "But, you see.. I'm afraid his holiday season has left me feeling... less than adequate."

You nodded, that was something you could more than understand. The holidays were always an inherently lonely time of year for you. With both of your parents having died long ago, and your only sister cutting off contact with you the day you came to work at the castle - you could truly emphasize with the Countess.

Alcina looked at you and smiled at your understanding, a long drag off of her cigarette before she continued.

"And while I do my best to keep my spirits up during this festive season, I can't help but long for the company of companions long lost.. for family members gone too soon.. and for a life that no longer exists."

Another thing you deeply understood - you honestly couldn't remember the last time you shared a holiday with someone you truly cared about.

You hummed softly. "I understand, my lady. I hope the girls help somewhat with keeping your mind occupied, at least?"

She chuckled again, this time sounding a little lighter.

"Mh.. that they do." She smiled softly but her eyes still shined with that far away look. "Were you aware there was four of them once?"

"Daughters??"

"Mhm.. Alexandra. She was my eldest. She passed on many years ago, though."

"I had... no idea. I'm sorry to hear that, my lady."

She waved her hand almost nonchalantly.

"It was a long time ago. But this time of year always brings back very fond memories of her. Christmas was her favorite day of the year." This time her smile was warm, filled with love. "Such an inherently kind soul she was. I have no idea where she got that from."

Another chuckle and you smiled.

"Oh, I have some ideas, my lady."

Alcina took another drag off of her cigarette and gave you a smirk.

"Flattery, dear."

In all honesty, though, it wasn't. Regardless of their reputation and the rumors that proceeded them, you wouldn't have the life you did if it wasn't for Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters. There weren't many places for people like you within the village. People who weren't of the norm and didn't follow the status quo. The castle was a safe haven for individuals like you - who fell outside the normality of what was considered 'good and right'.

You bowed low. "Honesty, my lady."

"Mh.. perhaps." She chuckled.

You stood quietly and let the silence of the moment envelope you. The warm glow of the fireplace dancing across Alcina features as you watched them finally begin to soften. And while you knew your small chat hadn't helped ease all of her pain, you could tell it'd at least helped lighten the heaviness of it all.

Still, you felt as though the both of you could do with the company of each other just a little bit longer.

"Would... you mind if I sat with you for awhile, my lady?" You asked softly, bringing a tender smile to the Countess' lips.

"Are you not exhausted from such a long day, dear?"

"Not all that much." You lied, every muscle in your body ached - but right then, keeping this large, sad woman company, was far more important.

She nodded, holding out her hand to the seat next to her.

"Very well, then."

And there you sat, long into the night. Swapping lighthearted stories and deeper ones at that. Laughing at each other's jokes as if you'd known one another for a life time longer than you'd actually had. It was a night filled with ease and comfort. With conversations so warm they almost drove the cold and loneliness of the holidays away.

... almost.

***

[try-set-me-on-fire]

‘you could say I’m fond of you.’ for the soft prompt 👀👀👀

@leothil also asked for this one! Send me soft fic prompts! Here’s the rest of the fills on ao3!

"You could say I'm fond of you," Buck says, head tilted almost sideways, the sort of twinkle in his eyes that Eddie always worried might prove fatal one day for the way it makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

"You could say that, huh?" He crosses his arms, mouth curving upward unbidden. He’s pretty sure Buck is actually saying “hehehe” as he leans forward, giggling, to kiss Eddie’s cheek. Eddie snorts and dodges the attempt, which just causes Buck to follow, until they’re chasing each other in dizzy little circles between the sink and the table. Buck catches him with an arm thrown around his waist, and plants a big wet kiss sort of on his cheek but mostly hitting nose and eye. Eddie laughs in a way that still surprises him, sometimes - a helplessly open thing, so much joy in his body that he has no reason or care to hide.

“Ahem.”

Well, maybe some reason. Maddie stands in the entryway to the kitchen with the squiggly kind of smile someone trying not to. Buck and Eddie are gently frozen around each other, no survival instinct to spring away and avoid capture.

Maddie holds out a hand. “Chim says you owe the PDA jar.”

Eddie makes an indignant sound as Buck throws back his head with a shout of laughter and then, terrible coward, flees the room.

“Nobody was in here! We’re not even at work! This is my house!” Eddie protests even as he digs to find his wallet.

Maddie puts a finger up, reciting “If more than four members of the 118 including the two of you are present at a gathering it counts as a work functio-“

Eddie slaps cash in her hand. “I don’t like your husband very much.”

She grins at him, and then raises an eyebrow. “Two dollars? That seems kind of steep.”

“Inflation’s been brutal.”

She laughs, pocketing her ill gotten bounty. Eddie expects her to return to the party but she stalls there, a curious look in her eyes. Eddie feels suddenly nervous. He counts Maddie as a friend, and he’s pretty certain they’re going to be in laws one of these days, but they haven’t spoken one on one very often and her expression reminds him of the one his own sisters would get when they were about to make his life a little more difficult. He’s started self consciously pretending to rearrange finger sandwiches when she speaks.

“It’s nice to see you being goofy.” When he huffs out a startled laugh she grins and tilts her head, so like her brother. “Evan- Buck is always goofy, no surprise there. But you’re… Funny, certainly, you’re sarcastic, but it’s nice seeing you be silly, Eddie.” She’s so sincere it makes Eddie duck his head, just a little. “You seem really happy. And you make Buck so happy.”

Eddie exhales more than laughs, a quick little sound of awed half-belief. It’s true, he knows it is. It hollows him out completely some days, looking at Buck and seeing such easy elation on his face, and knowing he has some part in putting it there fills up his empty form with light, or champagne, or some other metaphor for love given shape. “I’m glad to,” he says softly. “That’s all I- I want to make him happy, for the rest of our lives. I’m… honestly, the happiest I’ve ever been, and it’s because I get to share it with him.”

Maddie’s smile gets all squished and watery. “I can see why they charge you so much for public displays of affection, you romantic.”

Eddie laughs outright, shaking his head. “It’s the coffee fund anyway, I’d still just be spending it on his ridiculous lattes. This is only an extra step.”

Maddie puts her hand on her hip, gleeful and incredulous. “Okay, even that was stupidly sweet. Do I have to charge you again?”

“Have mercy,” he says, putting his hands up. “I have no more cash.”

“You wanna go mug my brother for it?”

Eddie laughs, and picks up the sandwich tray to bring outside. “Come on, let's go sick Chris on him.”

Later, when Buck sprawls to the ground like a sack of bricks under the gentle force of Chris’s tackle, Eddie tells him to give over extra money to the jar.

“Why?” He grins, sweaty from the chase and smelling like fresh grass.

“Preemptive payment.” Eddie bends down and kisses him thoroughly, ignoring the wolf whistles and groans from the audience. He pulls back just slightly, holding his happiness with two hands, and kisses sort of Buck’s cheek, but mostly his nose and eye. “You could say I’m pretty fond of you, too.”

[eclecticopposition]

tell me about valsethera and those angels and jon 👀<

The specifics of Jon deValjio's extended family drama (which we CAN get into) will have to wait until we get back into roll20. Simply know that he's from a Pathfinder 2e campaign, in which four characters from four very different settings are brought into a world that appears to be grafted out of pieces of countless other worlds. All of them are great.

Jon deValjio is a human cleric from a desert continent that used to be a single massive kingdom, and has since fallen into chaos and been consumed by political infighting. He is a follower of Soralyon, a deity of architecture and ruins, and he basically wanders around trying to uncover pieces of lost history in the naive belief that people are all arguing because nobody knows what the truth is! Their history is being lost! So, naturally, if he can just find all the answers, he can tell everyone and everything will be okay again! No more endless conflict consuming the country or leading to heated political arguments over dinner! Right?

And of course Soralyon would never steer him wrong! That's why every time he gets a weird urge to do something or something unexplainable happens, he is more than happy to go along with it! Because they're in this together! Sure, he kind of got sent to the top of a tower and saw that he'd been somehow transported away from everything he's ever known, but that has to be happening for a reason, doesn't it? Of course it does! He's meeting people from so many new cultures! He is learning so much! And can he be honest? It's kind of nice to get away from all the... you know, all the arguing and everything? Everything with his family and his brother – not that he wants to get away from his brother, of course! His brother's great! Have you heard about his brother? He's a real hero! Like, a real one! Jon never really had the stomach for that. Never was the most popular. But this is great! He's like, a research hero now! He bets that he'll go back home when the time is right. You know, once he's learned the thing he's supposed to learn, and he can go back and teach everybody! Maybe it'll be the answer to everything! No one has ever had an opportunity like this before! It'll turn out okay in the end!

Notably, Jon is from a culture that has almost no non-humans. It does, however, have aggressive feral dragons that raid small towns and eat livestock, and sometimes people. This has led to some tension and confusion between the tiefling bard (who he assumed was some sort of dragon person??) and the party monk, whose monastery worships dragons (eastern dragons, generally benevolent). He gets along great with the party android investigator, because they are both awkward nerds who are determined to figure out all the secrets. We were expecting some juicy drama to come out of the whole situation. Two sessions in, everyone somehow ended up being legitimate fast friends. It even felt earned. He and the tiefling bard even bonded over their worlds being full of weird hierarchies and political bullshit! The monk taught the bard how to meditate! It was great!

Jon rules. He takes notes about like, everything. Very friendly. Kinda clueless. A little self-righteous. A lot naive and head in the clouds. He also has a sickass religious tattoo that makes his entire right arm look like it's made out of banded agate from the elbow down.

As for Valsethera and those funny angels... say, what do you think happens when beings of pure law try to help run a city of humans?

This piece of comedy gold happens. Please behold.

(Featuring the amoral lesbians Des and Aanei, one of whom fed her master to the other, and then who agreed to an ill-advised bargain for power out of a covetous urge to take control of her own life, and a deep and hungry curiosity. The sea demon was also fueled by the covetous urge to see a mortal gorge herself on power and desire and to see what havoc she would wreak if she accompanied her. Deep and hungry curiosity all around.)

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

okay but now we need Peter Two mother-henning a sick Peter One and Peter Three 👀 :D

15. Hugging each other + 45. Feeling their temperature

Peter Three wished he could say Two was being silly. He wished he could wave it off as a change in the weather, allergies, anything other than the truly miserable bout of flu it was building up to be. He wished he could tell Peter Two that all of this fussing was unnecessary and unwanted.

But of course he would be lying. Sickness always had a way of swaying his state of mind and emotion far too easily. It usually came in two stages: firstly, the snippy and standoffish phase. He would take any less-than-positive interaction as a personal affront and square up for a fight, even if it was one he couldn’t win—or one that hadn’t been there in the first place.

The second, longer stage came when he was fully immersed in the ill experience: what the others had affectionately dubbed the “spider squid” mentality, wherein anyone in the immediate vicinity found themself with a sad, sullen, soppy Peter Three suctioned to them. Maybe it was the prickly, shivering sensitivity in his skin that his body mistook as a craving for comfort by proximity.

Whatever the cause, there was very little chance of escape once he got his arms around them. He was currently draped over Peter Two, sniffing in vain attempts to catch a whiff of the smoothie he had prepared on the counter. It couldn’t breach the wall of mucus in his sinuses.

“You may not be able to taste it but at least it’ll be nice and cool for you, huh?” Peter Two murmured, rubbing circles into Three’s back before pressing his palm to the back of his neck. “Mm, still too warm…Let’s get you tucked in and then you can sip on this while I make you a cool compress, okay?”

Three sniffed again, hoping it sounded no different from the others, cursing his stupid fever-brain for its tendency to threaten him with unanticipated waterworks at any available moment. “You already did,” he mumbled, guiltily grateful. “What haven’t you already done?”

No outsider would ever guess that Two had only assumed the role of an older brother in the past year. He had all but shot down Three’s standoffish phase in its tracks by being so infuriatingly soft and kind and considerate from the get-go—helping him peel off his sweat-soaked suit and tug on soft pajamas, always keeping his touch light so he wouldn’t exacerbate the aches. After making tea, rice and toast and deciding it wasn’t enough, he’d gone out to buy the fruits for this smoothie, ginger ale, popsicles and the typical array of medicines. He’d even changed the sheets and pillowcases on Three’s cot so they would be crisp and clean.

“MJ gets a lot of the credit for inspiring me. She spoils me rotten when I’m sick—although I suspect it’s just so she can make sure I stay in bed and actually rest,” Peter Two chuckled lightly, as if all his effort were nothing particularly noteworthy. “I’m just paying it forward. You deserve it.”

“N-No, I don’t…You’re just too good. You shouldn’t have to worry about me; y-you shouldn’t even be here. All this stuff you’re doing to take care of me, it’s just gonna wear you down and then I’m gonna get you sick too a-and Peter One and…”

“Hey, hey, shhh…all this worrying is gonna wear you down, buddy,” he soothed, already resuming the circles between his shoulders. “The only thing you need to worry about right now is getting better. If I can help, I will, and so would you. It’s what we do.” A brief shuffle across the apartment interrupted him and he looked up. “Hey, Peter One. Maybe keep that window cracked after you come in, please; Peter Three would probably appreciate some cool, fresh air.”

“Nnnh, d-do I have to? I feel f-freezing…” There was a hoarse whine in Peter One’s voice, followed by a few rattling coughs that he muffled in the crook of one shivering arm.

Peter Three lifted his heavy head to cast a resigned stare upon the youngest over his shoulder, while Peter Two accepted what he knew was coming with a small, firm nod.

“Close that, then, and come over here to the couch for a bit. Peter Three’s running hot at the moment; if he sits with you, he can warm you right up while I put your blankets in the dryer. We’ll get you changed and then they’ll be nice and toasty for you to climb in. Three, why don’t you have your smoothie while you wait with him? Remember, just small sips, and then I’ll make you another cold compress after I plug in his heating pad and put on the next pot of tea.”

As they were deposited onto the couch, the pair of sick spiders shared a glassy-eyed but no less amazed glance—a mutual awareness that they would owe Peter Two a lot of favors the next time he was in their shoes.

“…Take your time,” they said together.