#de aged mollymauk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leftenant-sinani · 4 years ago

Text

Pinned Post

Hello, I am Sinani and I welcome you on my blog.

I am 24yo AMAB genderfluid person with ADHD, being poly pansexual with preference for men. I used to write FanFics, mostly crossovers, since I am ‘crossoverphile’. However, I did write once per time, since I need to be in specific mood to write... And no, I cannot draw, I am way too incompetent and not passionate enough to actually draw, I am glad I can at least write something even when it’s barely decent. I am also proud member of simp clubs of Voryn Dagoth / Dagoth Ur, Sotha Sil, Vivec, Fennorian Ravenwatch, Verandis Ravenwatch, Teldryn Sero, Naryu Virian, Daedric Prince Sanguine AKA Sammy (The Elder Scrolls), Mollymauk Tealeaf, Essek Thelyss, Dorian Storm (Critical Role), Rolan, Raphael, Lae'zel, Halsin (BG3) Jaal Ama Darav, Evfra de Tershaav (ME: Andromeda), Zevran Aranai, Fenris (Dragon Age), and most recently also Marazhai Aezyrraesh (WH40K : Rogue Trader). And plenty of Dunmeri / Dark Elven, Tiefling, Chiss and other alien fellows. (More info below)

My most favorite universes are; XCOM, StarCraft, Mass Effect Elder Scrolls and all sorts of DnD-based things (Including Baldur's Gate III & Critical Role). You might also see Star Wars, Dragon Age and anything I like the looks of.

I’ve played all the main Elder Scrolls (my favourite one Is Oblivion, but other main games Are Also very much good despite some usual issues Bethesda released them with) And I have finished most of them besides Arena (I have to find some while for it). About ESO though, I am avoiding that thing at this point because I realised that I don't really like it And that I prefer WoW on free server as the only MMO I want to play. Not to be rude towards the people who enjoy it, but it just isn't for me, especially with my Stand against its monetisation And boring combat, not to mention that there were multiple times of Zenimax trying to pull off a straight theft of others' work without consent And sell it as their product (see ESO art theft in 2023 and recently the theft of Cook books recipes) along with some minor unlisted issues, but these are the main ones but in short; ESO can fuck right off And the developers Are thieves who don't deserve to get money From anyone. I regret all the time and money I have poured into it and I wish I could take the money back at very least...

Anyway, I’ve played all Mass Effects as well and finished them with passion, I like both the Original Trilogy and Andromeda. About Dragon Age... uh... That one’s a bit complicated. I’ve only finished Dragon Age Origins with its DLCs and Dragon Age 2 with its DLCs as well... not Inquisition though, never really bothered to finish it and probably never will. (And no, I do not care about the DA4 one bit. They killed it the second they revealed the original name and then killed it even more with how it looks in the end...)

And XCOM, I’ve played Enemy Unknown + Enemy Within but did never really finished it, I will one day though. Then I’ve played XCOM 2, primarily with War of The Chosen, and did finish it once, and I have Chimera Squad on my list of games-to-finish as well. Never played the old X-COM games really, they Are way too tough.

I like DnD-themed games as well including Baldur's Gate III, Divinity Original Sin II, Pillars of Eternity, Pathfinder, etc. (and all the art around... I don't watch any shows, it's not my thing.. Well, besides Legend of Vox Machina, that one I really liked. So yeah, I am mildly into Critical Role.)

Please know that my blog is primarily 18+ and that I don’t want people who are transphobic, homophobic, racist, TERF, nahtzees (if you don’t get what it means, just say it to yourself and you’ll quickly understand), fanatic commies, fanatic capitalists, Trump supporters, etc. to follow me. And for those who are diehard fans of Solavellan (Or Solas in general), Lavellan, Dalish Elves in general (After DA2, because they started to suck heavily in DAI), Sheogorath, Astarion, Dark Urge, Gortash or Cicero... Please do not interact with me, as I have strong aversion towards all of those. Again, do not interact ONLY if you are diehard fan of either of those and cannot accept the fact that I dislike your favourite character. (And no, I do not consider C0DA to be official part of the lore. It's just one of many Kirkbride's confused ramblings)

There’s also some games / universes I utterly hate because either it isn’t for me (And I get to see it a lot even though I am not interested) or the fandom ruined it. Fortnite, Witcher, Last of Us, etc. There’s probably more, but these three are prime examples.

Another thing is that creating anything (whether it be art or fanfic or anything like that) with my OCs is not allowed unless I will give clear permission. That goes double for anything NSFW. Also I am not open to NSFW RPs. Please bear that in mind. You can always ask if you are not sure (or forget in some cases), and I will try my best to clarify it.

Also I am actively trying to avoid posting content that could disturb or harm anyone in any way. So if I do post something like that, please, do tell me and I will delete it. Another thing Is that I very scarcely tag, because I am lazy, I only tag when I have something to say to it.

Plus, I need to warn you that I am extremely talkative and tend to be blunt. I don't know why, I just am. (Probably because ADHD)

51 notes · View notes

tthael · 4 years ago

Note

I really admire so many things about your writing - the introspection and deep meaning, the realistic and sensitive way that you handle topics. Do you have any recs for fav media/books/tv shows/fanfics ? I guess I'm curious if there are any you think might have similar qualities/themes?

This is a tough one because basically everything I consume gets picked apart and reused in some way. However, I’ll give it a shot:

The Book Thief and I Am the Messenger by Markus Zusak. There’s quite a lot I like about Zusak’s use of language and have since 2007 when I read The Book Thief for the first time, and there’s something very cinematic and magical about I Am the Messenger (particularly in the chapter with the young track runner).

The Bone Clocks by David Mitchell. He’s most commonly known for Cloud Atlas, but he has an ongoing theme of vampires and cannibalism reappearing in his work (I just read Slade House for the first time while I was in quarantine) and there’s something deeply satisfying about the way that all of the disparate pieces come to fruition at the climax of The Bone Clocks. Not a perfect book, but deeply satisfying.

The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver. Again, she’s most commonly known for The Poisonwood Bible, but I liked that well enough to read The Lacuna in 2013, and I completely hated it for the first half of the book until finally something clicked in my brain and I activated the literary critic within, who doesn’t care so much about whether they enjoy something and more cares about how well something is done. The description of US American rationing during World War II really got me onto the novel’s side, if that makes sense; and I do love a good family epic, and while this only focuses on one protagonist instead of generations of them, it’s interesting in a similar way to The Bone Clocks where you see everything start to snowball together.

Literally anything by Ursula Vernon/T. Kingfisher. I particularly recommend The Raven and The Reindeer, which I read shortly after being diagnosed with my chronic illness and really helped me to understand the irrelevance of shame. There’s something very satisfying about saying “a reindeer doesn’t care if it smells bad, so I’m going to lean into that particular apathy and not allow a bully to take me down over it.” Something comforting about taking shelter in the animal and in survival, when you and your body are in one place and working on the same side, and it’s your brain that’s ready to give up first but your body will keep dragging you through because that’s what it does. Certain lines in Indelicate were inspired by her adaptation of Tam Lin in Jackalope Wives and other Stories (https://www.amazon.com/Jackalope-Wives-Other-Stories-Kingfisher-ebook/dp/B071946RLN). Lots of her short stories are available at this link for free: http://www.redwombatstudio.com/portfolio/writing/short-stories/

TV’s a little harder to unpack, since I don’t always think in terms of visual media, I tend to default to words first. Recently I’ve been enjoying New Amsterdam on NBC--it’s nice to see the radical socialist doctor doing his damnedest to secure the right thing--and Call the Midwife--similar reasons. There’s a lot about meeting someone where they are in both shows that I appreciate.

There’s also a lot of music that inspires my writing so I’ll have to dedicate a post specifically to that in my methods and materials.

Fanfic, though! Lots of my favorites, lots of genres. Here we go:

we are all stardust by synergenic (Losseflame) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/5682496) Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, pairing Finn/Poe Dameron. Sexually explicit, but also leans a lot into physicality. You can probably see the influence on the very first chapter of Indelicate when Eddie’s waking up in pain and Richie’s at his bedside. It’s very much inspired by a similar sickbed scene here.

If They Haven’t Learned Your Name by silentwalrus (https://archiveofourown.org/works/6329503) Captain America/Marvel Cinematic Universe Steve Rogers/James “Bucky” Barnes. The holy grail of Steve/Bucky fanfiction. If you want independent character exploration, this is the place to go. Natasha shaving her head? Yes. Sam pleading with Steve to keep his shit together while thirty Koren grandmothers assume they are American celebrities? Yes. Bucky defiantly hunting down his sense of self while bingeing romance novels in a space ship? Yes. Pay particular attention to the Sam chapters, because they’re a beautiful way of defining Steve’s characterization from an outside perspective, and I’m trying to do the same with Eddie looking at Richie in Indelicate.

An Ever-Fixed Mark by AMarguerite (https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523001) Pride & Prejudice (Jane Austen) Elizabeth Bennet/Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy. Soulmark AU. This is one of my longtime favorite fanfictions and what it taught me was cause and effect. The characters move the plot forward based on their assumptions and decisions. Definitely very helpful when I was writing TTHAEL by the seat of my pants.

You Can Keep Holding On by NorthernSparrow (https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233709) Supernatural Dean Winchester/Castiel. Sexually explicit. A lot of the summary I can give here is spoilers, but if you read this one through, you’ll be able to see the inspiration for the “Can you tell me where I can get another Eddie Kaspbrak?” scene in Indelicate.

Work of All Saints by antistar_e (kaikamahine) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/15006644) Coco (2017) Imelda Rivera/Héctor Rivera/Ernesto de la Cruz. Sexually mature. Oh my GOD this is a beautiful coming-of-age story set in turn-of-the-century Oaxaca, this is the best complete expansion of canon that I’ve ever seen; the author takes the pieces and runs with them and it is WONDERFUL.

Lycanthropic Studies by Eiiri (https://archiveofourown.org/series/575263) Harry Potter, Remus Lupin/Sirius Black canon-divergence AU. I very much enjoy the meditation on lycanthropy as a chronic illness and I sometimes reread this for comfort. Particularly early on Remus has a rant about how he’s sick and he’s always sick and his life doesn’t stop for it, despite holidays and birthdays he still has to deal with the consequences of his illness and take the devastating medication, and there’s a lot about that that speaks to me. I haven’t kept up with the series for some time, though.

Careful Truths by SassySnowperson (https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111966) Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, Bodhi Rook/Luke Skywalker canon-divergence AU. Sexually explicit. Honestly identity p!rn fics are a good inspiration for that third-person limited perspective I’ve been working on in Indelicate. Also I love love LOVE Bodhi Rook. It’s fun watching him run in circles trying to conceal his identity from Luke while completely oblivious to Luke doing exactly the same thing.

Stammtisch by chaya (https://archiveofourown.org/works/15060152) Critical Role: Season 2, Caleb Widogast/Mollymauk Tealeaf, AU. Sexually explicit. Long before Caleb actually leveled up enough to cast Mordenkainen’s Magnificent Mansion, chaya speculated about what kind of spaces he might create for each of his friends. I think it’s a very good resource for really condensing characterization down into lots of images and concepts and deciding what other characters know about them. The idea of making space for someone else is something that I lean into a lot when I write Ben, who’s the kind of man who will set himself on fire to keep those he loves warm, and even though Critical Role has far more material than even IT for determining characterization, and even though this particular moment has already occurred in canon--it’s just a wonderful homey story, and has the kind of found family vibes I like for the Losers as well.

I know that’s a lot to unpack there, but all of those fics are very good and I recommend reading any assortment that appeals to you. (Work of All Saints in particular you don’t have to be familiar with the source material beyond the basic premise; it stands on its own.) Thank you for asking, and thank you for reading!

#nocturnalpinkcat #my fic #indelicate #now what i'm gonna say may sound indelicate #nwigsmsi #things that happen after eddie lives #tthael #fic recs #book recs

19 notes · View notes

mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years ago

Text

whose brow is laid in thorn (chapter one)

You guys have no idea how long I’ve been building this universe in my head as I’ve been falling asleep. Huge thanks to @minky-for-short and @spiky-lesbian, my ever faithful and patient betas and wonderful friends

please reblog and leave a comment on ao3!

----------

Mollymauk has been waiting for this day since he was eighteen years old.

Not the day he'll be crowned king, that day is a long way off and he's none too eager for it. No, today is the day the love of his life is returned to him, after they were separated when their affair was discovered.

But Caleb Widogast has been in the hands of the Volstruker. And who is coming back is not the same man who left.

So is that man still there?

----------

Mollymauk didn’t wake up, not really. To say he woke up would have implied he’d ever slept and he didn’t so much as doze that night, not even for a moment.

But when the dawn filtered under the thick curtains of his chambers and fell across the rich carpets, he did feel some sort of start. Though it wasn’t anything like waking up.

It felt more like coming back to life. He’s coming home.

He bolted upright, breath suddenly coming fast like he’d been sprinting. His mouth dried and the sudden need to move and move quickly crackled through his nerves, though he had no idea what to do with any of it.

Clothes. He’d start with that, seeing as he was completely naked save the silk sheets and his tattoos. Normally he’d wait for his sister, to get ready with her, but Jester really liked to sleep in and he'd always felt mean waking her up before the sun had cleared the horizon. Unless it was him doing it by repeatedly smashing a goosefeather pillow into her face.

And he needed some time to himself this morning. He’s coming home.

He lit the candles then looked through his vast wardrobe, normally grabbing the first thing he came across whether it was appropriate for court or not. People had long since given up on expecting him to be appropriate, full stop. His fathers senechal didn’t even roll her eyes as much when he would come to take his seat, dressed in feathers and sequins with far too much of his deep violet skin on display. Mollymauk actually suspected his father had turned it into a play, to further intimidate his already plenty intimidated supplicants.

But this morning his fingers passed over the usual silks, satins and samites. He couldn’t help but think of how he’d dressed back then, gods, ten years ago now. His fingers kept moving, further and further back into the racks, as if he could go back in time so easily. As if everything could be undone. As if he could be the Mollymauk he’d been back then just by dressing like him.

His chest clenched tightly. He’s coming home.

Eventually he found a close fitting tunic with a high neck, in a dark blue colour, clearly from some time before it was politically necessary for him to be wearing the house colours at all times. Soft doeskin breeches underneath, no jewellery save what he always wore in his horns. Just some kohl outlining his full, red eyes. He wanted to look as much like the Mollymauk he would remember as possible, whether it would change anything or not.

When the heavy knock on his chamber door came and it swung back with an iron and oak creak, Molly wasn’t surprised to see Yasha standing there, already dressed and ready to go and also very much not surprised to see him in the same state. Yasha had always understood him in that way.

“Your highness,” she said in that soft voice of hers, bending in a small half bow.

None of his other friends ever used his official titles outside of the courtroom but, after years as his aide de camp, she had turned them into a term of endearment. Hearing her say it gave him a reason to smile, in the middle of everything he was feeling.

“Good morning, Yasha,” he beckoned her in from where he sat at his dressing table, still looking at himself in the mirror.

“I checked with the night guard, your highness. All clear, nothing to report,” she intoned, as she did every morning before anything else was addressed.

“Good,” Molly murmured, attention elsewhere, “I, uh, take it my mother and father are still abed?”

“Soundly, your highness.”

Molly nodded tightly to his reflection. He didn’t want the king here for this. The less bad memories were waiting for him on the palace steps, the better.

Then why do you imagine he’ll want you there? A nasty little voice whispered inside his mind, making him clench his hands into fists. Molly swallowed hard and pushed it away, trying to wipe any trace of it off his face before Yasha could see it in the mirror.

He either hadn’t moved fast enough or their friendship ran too deep. He saw his friend’s face tighten ever so slightly, felt her hand rest on his shoulder and squeeze firmly.

“Are you ready for this, your highness?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. It was wise to never speak too loudly anywhere in this castle, not even in the bedchamber of it’s crown prince. Molly had learned that lesson early in life.

But still not early enough.

“I am,” he made himself meet Yasha’s eyes, or at least the reflection of them, “He’s coming home. He’s finally coming home. And everything’s going to be right again.”

If there was a flicker of doubt in his friend’s ash-ringed eyes, then Mollymauk didn’t see it. Instead he looked into his own face, bathed in candlelight and dawn, so he could see the certainty there and forget he’d forged it himself out of dreams and selective memories. So he could make himself believe it when he whispered it once more.

Caleb Widogast was coming home and everything would be right again.

People in the castle whispered about it, of course they did. But it just joined the never ending current of gossip and low level scandal that ran through the place because of the wayward crown prince. Caleb had become another faceless body in their prince’s bed, of the hundreds they imagined crowded in there like a tavern on a festival night. Earlier on than most, granted, but every bit as transient.

And even then Mollymauk still wasn’t the most interesting member of the royal family. Just the safest to gossip about.

It would make Mollymauk laugh bitterly, to imagine their faces if they’d only known. Caleb hadn’t been one of many. He’d been the first. He’d been everything.

They were called the Volstrucker, their true purpose shrouded by naming them in a language few people this side of the Xorhasian border spoke. For the few that could be openly seen at court, people had grown used to them and long ago grown bored of making up stories about them. They’d stopped questioning Sorah’s never ending vigil at the king’s side, the higher courtiers that were granted peeks behind the curtain thought little of the people in black who hid their faces and brought reports under magical seals that the king would read and then promptly burn. To them, Trent Ikithon was just another courtier, a noble chased from the Empire and trying to scratch some semblance of the power he’d once wielded through the benevolence of the king, clearly providing him some service they had better not dwell on too long.

Bodyguards, spies, personal assassins, fallen sorcerers with their uses, all these things were common in this court and drew little attention when no threads could be found between them all.

And when the crown prince was given a companion at the age of ten, a thin, pale boy with dark red hair and sharp blue eyes, the court accepted it when they were told he was just that. A companion. A personal guard. Hardly unusual, given that this was their heir to the throne. It was only natural that he would have his own version of his father’s silent, hulking goliath and it was rather smart, after all, to have the two boys grow alongside each other to strengthen the bond between them.

But of course, that was exactly the point of the Volstrucker. To blend into the background, to repel whispers and speculation as easily as shaking rainwater off a cloak, to run beneath the surface of things. It was what allowed them to operate as the most vicious, effective and brutal assassins and war mages anyone inside or outside of the Empire had ever seen. To be the stuff of legends and nightmares while never appearing so.

That was Caleb Widogast. Prince Mollymauk’s own personal Volstruker, the kind of privilege only extended to the most powerful people. And of course, those most powerful people who had close ties to their handler. Trained from their shared youth to give his life in service of his prince, to jump before every blade aimed at his neck, to either slaughter the enemy or take the sword point through his own flesh. Drilled in the most dangerous offensive magic, shaped by Ikithon’s hand out of common dirt to serve a greater purpose, to once day stand by the throne when it was Mollymauk’s turn to sit it or to perish getting him there.

That was who Caleb was. Or at least what he’d been intended as.

“An hour after dawn. That was what they said.”

Molly was pacing back and forth across his room, hands fidgeting with the adornments in his horns. Yasha sat patiently on his bed, again demonstrating how she could be such a stickler for protocol in some areas and then completely disregard it in others. Their long friendship always had been that strange kind of patchwork.

“They did say that, your highness,” she agreed patiently, for the tenth time that morning.

“So how long does it take to travel from this place?” the panic began rising on his throat, “This place they won’t even bloody tell me where it is? Because it damn far past an hour after dawn!”

Yasha took a deep, patient breath, one of many that she’d taken between coming into her prince’s room and this moment, “The roads have been dangerous of late. Perhaps they’ve just been delayed. Perhaps there was rain over the mountains. Perhaps a tree fell across the king’s road. Perhaps a million other things happened that we do not need to be worrying ourselves over right now.”

Molly flushed, folding his arms across his chest and staring sullenly at his boots, “There’s probably a few we should be worrying about…”

“Molly, think who he’s with. Is there really anything that would stop a pack of Volstreker for very long?”

“He...he was just never late,” Molly replied after a long, long pause, his voice sounding very far away and very young, “That was one of the things he hated most, being late.”

He wasn’t looking but he heard how his friend’s voice became very clipped and careful, her accent coming through stronger like it did when she was minding her words very closely, “My prince...Caleb may not be the friend we remember…”

Molly looked up sharply, his eyes bright and hard like rubies, “Caleb was not just my friend. Caleb was the love of my life. He is the love of my life. We’re soulmates.”

Yasha sighed again, though this one she kept to herself. Arguing with Mollymauk was a chore most of the time, nigh on impossible when he got that fire in his eyes, the same fire that could be seen in the king’s more and more frequently.

The fire that worried her every time she saw it reflected on her friend’s face.

So Yasha wouldn’t argue with him. She would do what she had always done, what she’d learned how to do when she’d been handed this broken boy at the age of eighteen and helped him put himself back together over ten long years, what people were afraid to do for a prince but gods did he need it. She would pull back his armour and show him what was underneath.

“Molly,” she stood, taking a few steps towards him, her sad eyes catching the candlelight, “What happened was not your fault.”

It was like watching a single crack in a sheet of ice bring a whole glacier face crumbling down. Yasha moved quickly, bringing Molly into her arms before he could even choke out a sob, as the tears he’d probably needed to cry since he’d heard Caleb was coming home burst forth.

For a moment, as her knees hit the thick carpet, it was as it had been ten years ago. Those long, awful months after Caleb had been taken away, when Molly couldn’t find the strength to rise from his bed, when the chambermaid Veth would bring him meals he wouldn’t eat, when Jester would come ask her big brother to play with her and it would be like she wasn’t there, when no good natured threats from Beau would get him down to the practise yard, when Fjord would come with tales of his travels and get no response. Caduceus, the palace healer, had done all he could for him, eventually only able to bow his head and sigh and say it wasn’t for any medicine to cure the nasty shock of a broken heart. The king had known better than to try and reach out to his son, knowing this had driven a chasm between them that would not be repaired. The queen had sat outside his chamber door for days on end, waiting until he would see her again.

Ikithon said Caleb had been taken for training. Re-education. The screaming nightmares that would bring Yasha and Jester running to Molly’s chambers at all hours proved just how much they believed that.

But Yasha squared her shoulders and let Molly weep against her. It wasn’t like that any more. Her prince had grown stronger since then, and wiser, this was just the aftershocks of an earthquake that had passed. He’d learned not to shut his friends out.

He proved that when he finally whispered, voice trembling, “But what if he blames me?”

Yasha squeezes his shoulders gently, “Think of the Caleb you knew. How well you understood each other. How clever he was. Do you really think he’d blame you?”

“No…” Molly drew back with a final sigh that sounded something like relief, “No he wouldn’t.”

“You know who's to blame,” Yasha’s voice hardened at the edges.

Molly’s mouth twisted, the way it often did when thoughts of that man strayed through his mind, Having him so close for the last ten years, seeing his smug smile and cruel eyes every day at court, at every royal banquet, in the council chambers, it had taken all of the combined efforts of his friends to convince him the matter couldn’t be settled with the point of his scimitars.

Not without angering the king. And despite everything Mollymauk said, despite the mask he wore, he was terrified of the king. He couldn’t hate him, not truly, not even after he ordered your heart torn in two and one half banished to gods knew where. Not even after everything he’d seen him do, the executions he’d ordered, the other kingdoms he’d seen him raze in war, watching from behind what little protection his mother could offer him. And even beyond the things he’d seen him do lurked the things he suspected.

But you couldn’t hate the man who’d saved your life. Who’d found you as an orphan and adopted you, named you heir to his kingdom, gave you a family and a name and a crown. Who had shown you love, perhaps, once upon a time.

Fear was easier. And so Mollymauk feared his father.

“I don’t want to think about that right now,” the tiefling rubbed at his eyes, smudging kohl across the bridge of his nose, “I just want to see him. I need to know he’s okay.”

Yasha opened her mouth, about to say something comforting while still trying to manage her prince’s expectations, when there came shouts from the far side of the bailey. From the main gate. Riders approaching.

Molly stiffened, eyes opening wide, lighting up with more hope than Yasha had seen on his face in years, so much so that she couldn’t help but smile.

“He’s home,” Mollymauk breathed.

The clamour raised by the approaching visitors must have woken Jester. As Mollymauk stood in the audience chamber, smoothly maintaining his princely face, she came bursting through the side door, clearly having dressed in a hurry. She ran up to take her place at his side, panting and grinning, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Is he here yet? Is he here?” she gasped, taking her brother’s hand and squeezing tight.

Molly chuckled fondly, dropping the act for the moment and winding an arm around her in a hug. He could never maintain it around Jester.

“Not yet. They’re just dismounting in the foreyard, we don’t even know if it's them yet…”

“Oh of course it is!” Jester rolled her eyes before the splitting grin came back, “I can’t believe he’s here, we’re all together again. It’ll be just like it was before!”

Molly couldn’t hide his own delight, not when her’s was taking it by the hand and tugging it up to the surface. But he needed to wear the right face for this, settling for laughing and scrubbing her blue hair quickly before pushing her away.

“Come now, at least try and look suitably intimidating,” he teased, moving back to standing tall with his hands clasped at the small of his back to put the hilts of his infamous scimitars on show, “The king would be most disappointed if any of our visitors left with dry smallclothes.”

“That’s not my job,” Jester snorted, like he were the world’s biggest fool rather than her future liege, “My job is to stand and look dumb and pretty to get them off their guard.”

Molly nudged her with a sharp elbow which she mostly dodged, “And brain them with a psychic lollipop if I lose my swords.”

“And brain them with a psychic lollipop if you lose your swords!” she repeated cheerily, giving him a wink before her face settled into something softer, something not unlike the look Yasha had given him as she’d helped him to his feet, “I’m really happy for you, Molly.”

Molly had his eyes facing firmly forward, he could hear voices from behind the gilded doors or the audience chamber. But the corner of his mouth turned up and the tension in his shoulders lessened slightly.

He was glad to have his sister beside him for this.

Because the door was opening and the man he loved, the man he’d loved since he was a child, the man whose absence had ripped a hole inside him he thought would never heal, was about to walk through the door.

Ikithon first, flanked by two nondescript figures in all black, a man and a woman. Molly greeted them with a stiff nod, his heart set on what lay behind them. A cloaked figure, hood up, the same stiff black uniform as the other two.

“Ah, Prince Mollymauk,” Ikithon intoned, voice as slippery as ever, “A welcome sight at the end of a long journey. It was my pleasure, of course, to bring your personal Volstruker back to you. Consider it yet another token of my sincere and genuine apology for the… unpleasantness he caused ten years ago.”

His voice lingered over that word, drawing it out into something sharp edged. Because of course he knew. Jester glanced anxiously at her brother.

Molly’s anger bubbled too close to the surface, he had to force the words through his teeth in a thin veneer of politeness, “You have the throne’s thanks, Archmage, as ever. Of course, I would be loath to keep you any longer, after such an arduous journey. You and your companions are dismissed to refresh yourselves. Immediately.”

He was rewarded by the slightest curling of Ikithon’s lip at his old title, the reminder of the one he used to own before he was cast out of the empire for his crimes. The same crimes the king had welcomed him in for.

“I will escort you myself!” Jester insisted with a sweet smile, smoothing the moment over in an instant, hurrying down the steps of the raised platform to sweep her arm out invitingly, seeming to put even the two senior Volstruker off guard, “Please follow me! I would so love to hear all about your journey!”

Jester was very hard to say no to. Within minutes they were gone into the luxurious depths of the castle and, given that this had been a very small welcome in the early hours of the morning, this left Mollymauk alone with Caleb.

His resolve broke as soon as the footsteps disappeared. Dropping all sense of decorum, he lurched forward, down the steps, unable to bear the distance between them.

“Caleb,” he nearly sobbed out, though still in control enough to drop his voice, “Gods, Caleb, it's so good to see you again. There’s so much I need to say to you but...Caleb?”

He hadn’t moved. There hadn’t been so much as a twitch in his muscles. Molly was panting, wild eyed, now close enough to reach out and touch him but he hadn’t flinched.

The voice stopped Mollymauk just as dead in his tracks. The most awful mix of familiar and foreign, the voice he knew but seeming to come from a different set of lungs.

“Your permission to remove my hood, your highness?”

Molly frowned, not understanding, feeling like he was in some strange dream now, actions not making sense and words coming out disjointed, “I...yes?”

With a slight nod, gloved hands swept back the heavy hood. It was almost exactly the face he’d imagined, the strong jaw and close beard of rust, the piercing blue eyes and high, handsome cheekbones. He’d grown into the handsome man Molly had always known he would be.

But he’d never imagined the expressionlessness in his eyes. The slack set of his jaw. He’d never imagined it would be like looking into the eyes of a doll or a painting.

Gods, it was so much worse than the looks of fear, pain, even the anger and hatred he’d seen in his nightmares.

“Caleb…” Molly groaned.

“I would like to apologise for my grievous errors when we were younger men, your highness,” the man who wasn’t Caleb intoned, completely flat, “I compromised my position as your Volstruker and took advantage of you in a completely unacceptable way. I swear to you that all degeneracy has been wiped clean and I am returned ready to do nothing but serve you with body and soul.”

He pulled his fist to his chest, keeping it there in a hard salute, one Molly had seen so many black clad figures make to Ikithon, to his father.

“I am yours, my prince.”

Molly’s heart shattered in his chest, tears running down his cheeks to drip onto the hands frozen halfway to taking Caleb in his arms.

“Caleb, what have they done to you?” he whispered, voice strained.

Someone had come home. But not the man he knew.

Not the man he loved.

#widomauk #critical role #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #cr fic #cr: mollymauk #cr: caleb #angst #royal au #prince and his knight #tw: brainwashing #tw: trauma #Molly and yasha friendship is my favourite thing #please reblog!!#please comment!!!

32 notes · View notes

critmasexchange · 4 years ago

Text

Post Deadline Pinch Hits #1-3

PINCH HITS #1 - #3

We have three (3) Post Deadline Pinch Hits. These are due by 23:59 on December 27th.

To claim, please direct message the comm with which PH(s) you’d like and your AO3 name (DMing is required to preserve anonymity).

Crossposted to the Dreamwidth Comm

PINCH HIT #1

For Owlmoose

Request 1 Art or Fic Fandom: Critical One-Shots: Bar Room Blitz Jayne Merriweather

Summary Given Jayne's loyalties, I'm really eager to know what she's been up to during the time of Campaign 2. Mix it up with any other characters you like, but please keep it gen, and if there is violence I'd rather it not be too detailed or graphic.

Request 2 Art or Fic Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One Pike Trickfoot & Grog Strongjaw

Summary Friendship fic please. I would love a story or artwork about the two of them growing up together, and getting into and out of trouble in Westruun.

Request 3 Art or Fic Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two Group: Caduceus Clay & Fjord & Melora | The Wildmother

Summary I'm quite fascinated by this entire situation and would be eager to see nearly anything focused on it. Gen only please.

Request 4 Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two Group: Fjord/Jester Lavorre

Summary This ship is getting really adorable and I'd enjoy pretty much anything focused on it. I prefer vanilla to kinky and character-based stories to porn without plot.

PINCH HIT #2

For Wiccy Request 1 Fic Fandom:Crash Pandas: Too Trashed Too Curious Ringo, Sass Car, Guy on Motorcycle, Reggie Burns Group: Rhinestone & Albert T. "Baldpaw" Skunk, Group: Izzy/Vin Diesel

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 2 Fic Fandom: Critical Crossovers Group: Beauregard Lionett & Grog Strongjaw, Group: Lockheed & Nugget & Professor Thaddeus & Trinket, Group: Melora | The Wildmother & Professor Thaddeus & Trinket, Group: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Shaun Gilmore, Group: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Taliesin Jaffe, Group: Nott the Brave & Scanlan Shorthalt

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 3 Fandom:Critical One-Shots: Thursday By Night Fic Group: Vampire Liam O'Brien/Vampire Sam Riegel, Group: Vampire Liam O'Brien & Vampire Sam Riegel & Vampire Travis Willingham, Vampire Matthew Mercer

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 4 Fic Fandom:Critical Role Campaign One Group: Grog Strongjaw & Scanlan Shorthalt, Group: J’mon Sa Ord/Shaun Gilmore, Group: Keyleth/Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Group: Shaun Gilmore/Vax'ildan, Tiberius Stormwind

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 5 Fic Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two Group: Animals of the Mighty Nein, Group: Animals of the Mighty Nein & Melora | The Wildmother, Group: Animals of the Mighty Nein & The Mighty Nein, Group: Avantika & Uk'otoa, Group: Beauregard Lionett & Professor Thaddeus, Group: Caduceus Clay & Fjord, Group: Caduceus Clay & Fjord & Melora | The Wildmother, Group: Caduceus Clay & Jester Lavorre, Group: Caduceus Clay & Pumat Sol, Group: Caduceus Clay & Pumat Sol & The Simulacra, Group: Fjord & Beauregard Lionett, Group: Frumpkin & Sprinkle & Nugget & Professor Thaddeus, Group: Jester Lavore & Nott | Veth Brenatto, Group: Jester Lavore & Sprinkle, Group: Pumat Sol & The Simulacra

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 6 Fic Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two Group: Beauregard Lionett/Dairon, Group: Beauregard Lionett/Keg, Group: Caduceus Clay/Caleb Widogast, Group: Caduceus Clay/Eadwulf, Group: Caduceus Clay/Fjord, Group: Caduceus Clay/Fjord/Melora, Group: Caduceus Clay/Melora, Group: Caleb Widogast/Essek Thelyss, Group: Caleb Widogast/Essek Thelyss/Yussa Errenis, Group: Caleb Widogast/Jester Lavore, Group: Caleb Widogast/Mollymauk Tealeaf, Group: Caleb Widogast/Nott | Veth Brenatto, Group: Caleb Widogast/Nott | Veth Brenatto/Yeza Brenatto, Group: Fjord/Melora | The Wildmother, Group: Jester Lavore/The Traveler

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 7 Fic Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two Frumpkin, Henry Crabgrass, Jourrael | The Inevitable End, Keg, Kiri, Marius LePual, Orly Skiffback, Professor Thaddeus, Sprinkle

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 8 Fic Fandom:Critical Role RPF Group: Dani Carr/Taliesin Jaffe, Group: Laura Bailey/Sam Riegel, Group: Liam O'Brien/Sam Riegel, Group: Marisha Ray/Matthew Mercer/Taliesin Jaffe

Link to Dear Critter Letter

Request 9 Fic Fandom:Yeehaw Game Ranch Any Character

Link to Dear Critter Letter

DNWs which apply to all requests: Hard core BDSM (including things such as nipple clamps, butt plugs, strap-ons, gimping, kinbaku, testicle/genital torture and humiliation), Big/little dynamics, age play, Lactation, Blood play, vore, inflation/stuffing, sounding, medical kink, body modification/body horror, descriptions of broken or breaking bones (saying a bone is broken is fine, detailing the sounds/feelings or descriptions of what it looks like after are not), description of eye trauma (saying eye trauma occurred is fine, describing it happening or what it looks like after are not), bestiality, rimming, water sports, scat, feet (as a kink or really any descriptions of them), Death!Fic (mentions of canonical death(s) is fine), unrequested setting AUs, unrequested non-canonical pairings, unrequested gender/sexuality identity headcanons/fanons (I do not consider WOG to be canon in most cases), heavy gore, mpreg, pregnancy/birth, characters under the age of 13, genderswap, first person pov, 2nd person POV (unless otherwise requested), poetry, clowns, underage (under 18) romance or sex, descriptions of child abuse, blood relative incest, cannibalism and zombies.

PINCH HIT #3

For Wildheartsneverdie Request 1 Fic Fandom:Critical Role Campaign Two Group: Beauregard Lionett/Jester Lavorre

Summary Request 1: Beau and Jester. Friends to kissers, baby! Does Jester realize she doesn’t need a stinkin’ man? Are they college roommates? Do they mutually realize their feelings might be more than just friendship? Anything focusing on them becoming more than friends will melt my heart, so get creative with this one.