#mollymauk would have just stayed dead.

[astrid-beck]

(Pssst, time to change your ask button, too!)

Considering your posts re: Molly coming back, what do you think of Taliesin's decisions re: Kingsley?

oh shit thanks just changed it. anyways! i think kingsley is probably the best salvaging of that plot beat wrt to what i see as a major thematic core of c2 (living in memory means neglecting your present + you are all the people you used to be and the notion of a discrete and whole past self is an illusion because you are continuously changing, but that means you can also still change right now, today, and isn't that freeing). i am glad that they didn't just revive a totally unchanged mollymauk with no ramifications, i think that would pretty badly undermine the like. coherence of that piece.

that being said. kingsley is pretty messy isn't he lol. i would have to rewatch early campaign to have a better-formed opinion on how he interfaces with molly as a character but. well he only got one episode to exist. i think there's potential there for him to be just as good of a coda as molly's permadeath would've been, but not nearly enough time for that to actually be the case in practice

(i just finished c2 ama)

[mxlinoe]

Mollymauk and the Modern Dionysus

Something that has always driven me insane is the weird accuracy of mollymauk/lucien/kingsley’s story to that of Dionysus. Like, it’s a tired thing to equate Mollymauk to Dionysus - i’m sure everyone in the fandom at some point has done that - but i cannot stress enough how entirely accurate it actually is.

Lets start from the beginning: dionysus’s creation myth.

Parts of it vary here and there depending on who you ask but the story goes Zeus is having his nth affair with Semele. Hera finds out, but instead of just outright killing her, disguises herself as an old women. In disguise she speaks with Semele who reveals shes pregnant with Zeus’s child. Hera deceives Semele and tells her to ask Zeus to show his godly form “and deceived by Hera she asked that he would come to her as he came when he was wooing Hera” (Apollod. 3.4.3). This means basically come to me as your godly form, and when zeus did “came to her bridal chamber in a chariot, with lightnings and thunderings, and launched a thunderbolt” (Apollod. 3.4.3) it fucking killed her. From there, Zeus sews the childs heart to his leg and months later Dionysus is born from Zeus. Theres another version of the story where Zeus impregnates Semele by giving her a liquid version of Dionysus’s heart?? “Liber, son of Jove and Proserpine, was dismembered by the Titans, and Jove gave his heart, torn to bits, to Semele in a drink” (Pseudo-Hyginus, Fabulae 167). Keep in mind this constant idea of death.

Anyhow, where the story really varies is who ends up raising Dionysus. Obviously, Semele is dead, and Hera wants him dead so he can’t stay on Olympus. Apollodorus states that he’s raised by the king and queen of Thebes as a girl (keep this in mind). A whole other version of this story is Dionysus is the child of Zeus and Persephone. This gives him connections to the underworld, death, and rebirth. Another version of the myth has him raised by nymphs? It all jumps around and I can’t find concrete textual evidence for anything but what Apollodorus states.

That’s where the story pretty much stops varying. From this point on it’s agreed that Hera drove Dionysus mad to wander the world and he teaches people about wine while he wanders, then he gets back to Greece and yayyy hes on the pantheon. 

Second thing to look at: Madness

In Euripides’s ‘The Bacchae’, Dionysus returns to Thebes to learn that worship of him has been banned and to clear his mothers name. He returns with a group of “bacchants”. When he arrived in Thebes, Dionysus drove Semele’s sisters mad - and then they fled up Mt Cithaeron to worship him. In the meantime (still in disguise) Dionysus is arrested and begins to drive King Pentheus of Thebes mad. The funniest part about this is how EXTENSIVELY Dionysus is physically described: 

“Well, stranger, I see this body of yours is not unsuitable for women’s pleasure— that’s why you’ve come to Thebes. As for your hair, it’s long, which suggests that you’re no wrestler. It flows across your cheeks That’s most seductive. You’ve a white skin, too. You’ve looked after it, avoiding the sun’s rays by staying in the shade, while with your beauty you chase Aphrodite” (Euripides. Bacchae. 564-571) 

LIKE??? Anyway. He starts to drive Pentheus insane by tricking him, causing a fire, and an earthquake. He persuades Pentheus to go undercover IN DRAG to the maenads (the women driven crazy on the mountain). Dionysus knows that this will be his death, but Pentheus doesn’t. So he goes up the mountain and is promptly torn apart by the women who believe they’re actually tearing apart a mountain lion (because they’re also mad). 

There’s also a myth where Dionysus gets captured by pirates during his worldly travels because they think he’s so cute so he drives them mad and then turns them into dolphins. Dionysus also drove A king of Edonia in Thrake (north of Greece) mad and in this madness the king killed his family. Dionysus really enjoys driving people mad. Like, I lose count of how many times he’s driven mortals mad for disrespecting him.

Thirdly: historical evolutions and aesthetic

Dionysus is an ancient god, believed to be as old as wine itself (which was invented in 6000 BC). He’s gone through a good few aesthetic changes over the years, but my favorite and most important thing to note is that Dionysus once had horns. HORNS! Because of these aesthetic changes, he’s also sometimes split into three separate “eras” - Mycenaean, Orphic, and Hellenized. The first is the oldest known Dioysus, he’s depicted as an older, beared figure with horns. It seems he was more worshiped for his connections to the Underworld and e was associated with marriage, death, sacrifice, and sexuality over wine. Orphic (of Orphisim, from Orpheus) is a younger, androgynous figure with horns. Dionysus was a central figure in Orphism because of his connections to death and rebirth, which correlated with Orpheus going to the underworld (and also correlated with Orpheus being torn apart by the maenads). Hellenized Dionysus is the modern day one. He’s still androgynous but doesn’t have horns :(, and the main thing people cared about regarding him was being the god of wine.  

Dionysus is also half the time wearing women’s clothing. Here’s some quotes about Dionysus and how he dresses from Lucian’s “Dialogue of the Gods’:

“Well, Zeus, I should be ashamed if I had such a son; so effeminate, … tying up his hair in a ribbon, indeed! and spending most of his time among mad women, himself as much a woman as any of them;” 

“Anyhow, my dear, this wearer of ribbons, this woman among women…” 

I also want to mention that Dionysus is cited multiple times being. Uh. the bottom? The receiver? I have no other way to say this that is pg lol. I make this note not to sexualize but to highlight the fact that out of all male gods who had fellow male lovers, he is the only one to “fulfill” the “women’s role” in sex. The rest of them were doing it, but it was only being done to him. Everyone’s favorite myth is Dionysus and Prosymnus and the creation of the “toy”. In that myth he, yknow, does it to himself on Prosymnus’ grave. There’s also a quote that describes is androgyny as:

“Androgynos (androgynous) : [A word applied to] Dionysos, as one doing both active, male things and passive, female ones [in sexual intercourse].” (Suidas s.v. Androgynos)

So, finally, with everything I just said in mind, how does this related to the threeleafs? Let’s make a check list to see the amount of overlap!

Queerness? Check and check. Mollymauk is so aggressively bisexual and gender-nonconforming it hurts. I wish Molly lived longer so we could see more of the transness that totally was going to happen but alas, the dice rule. I know we don’t know where Molly lands in bed, but most people see him as a bottom anyway so I thought I’d include the facts above about Dionysus’s position in bed.

Madness? Check and check! Focusing on Lucien a little more here I sort of equate the “pattern” from the Somnovem to be akin to the madness Dionysus emposes upon people. Mostly because when you are driven mad by Dionysus you’re seen as a maenad - and when you’re exposed to the pattern by the Somnovem, you’ve got yourself an extra few eyes. 

Death and rebirth? Check and check and check and check and check and check!! Must I even spell it out for you? It is the MAIN part of the threeleafs! 

Three different “eras”? Check and check! I feel like I’m stretching the link here but I thought I’d mention it. The fact that there’s three versions of the same person in one body - that all each have a defining difference between the three of them - reminds me a lot of Dionysus. Lucien being the oldest and more associated with his madness. Mollymauk more associated with the parties (by the fandom mostly) and sexuality. Kinglsey closely associated with identity. It’s really interesting to me to see the shift in how important wine was to Dionysus’s characterization over the three “eras”.

Horns? CHECK AND CHECK. When I learned Dionysus once had horns I went so crazy. He had bull horns, and bulls were notoriously used in ritual sacrifice for Dionysus. Bulls and serpents are some of his sacred animals. While Mollymauk may not have bull horns, he definitely has a snake tattoo!

I’m sure there’s more things I could link between the two of them but these four are the main things that have been driving me absolutely insane for a few years. I know Taliesin said he was really inspired by mermaids but I have a really hard time believing that when there’s THIS MUCH STUFF that lines up between the characters and Dionysus. 

Soooo, that’s basically it. I’m sure I forgot something I wanted to say but whatever. Mollymauk was so right when he said “I am your god, long may I reign”.

[magnus-sm-writes]

WIP Intro: Body

Genre: Literary Fiction/Speculative/Weird | Progress: Querying | World: Earth | POV: Second Person, Braided Narrative (weaving past/present)

The Past (2000)

The narrator wakes up in his own grave as a Newly Returned Person. As is protocol with NRPs, he's expected to continue the life of The One Before: keep his name, continue his job, and live with his wife, Fransisca. However, both the narrator and Fransisca know that he is not The One Before. When the narrator meets another rogue NRP named Van, he realizes that there's more to his new life than just pretending to be a dead man.

The Present (2001)

Van goes missing. The narrator searches for him, terrified of losing the man who has allowed him to become himself. He and Fransisca deal with his grief and guilt while searching for Van, and make an unexpected ally along the way.

Literal Logline

In a thinly-veiled trans allegory, a man learns how to love after undeath.

Inspirations

Mollymauk Tealeaf, "Moonkids" by Abbey Mei Otis, that part of Fight Club where the narrator is frantically trying to find Tyler Durden, Glass Animals' "Dreamland" album, my gender dysphoria, Kelly Link's Magic for Beginners collection, the theory of the doppelgänger, my grandmother's death

Characters

The narrator has no name that belongs to him. He hasn't quite gotten used to being alive yet, but he's getting better at it.

The One Before is the person the narrator is supposed to be. He is dead, and will stay that way.

Fransisca is the wife of The One Before. She's strangely understanding of the narrator's plight and comforts him through his grief.

Van is the first NRP the narrator meets that refuses to pretend to be a dead person. The narrator falls in love with him for that.

Setting

A world where the dead have begun to come back. Some people believe this is the real Y2K; others believe God has begun rejecting souls. Whatever the cause, NRPs are cropping up around the world. A particular hotspot is New York City.

In early 2000s New York City, the narrator's job at a shitty motel and fight to find Van brings him to some unsavory places with equally unsavory people.

Excerpt

She looked at you with pain, but no anger. You were wearing her dead husband’s face like a poor Halloween costume. If she were angry, you would understand. But she looked as if she’d been stabbed. A deep pain you didn’t know yet. You’d never known loss before, because you were the loss.

“I’m not him.” You wanted a cigarette. You wanted to run away. You wanted to hide in the cabinets. There were so many things you wanted in that moment, and you could have none of them.

Taglist

@flower-reads, @drowsy-quill

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

[dent-de-leon]

Thinking again about...moments when Lucien is just so lonely and depressed and despondent. Thinking of how Molly sat alone in the tavern in Alfield and had a panic attack. How anxious he got in the gentleman's hideout when he was confronted by someone from his past--Molly expecting all the nein to turn on him and abandon him right then and there.

How much it means to hear Caleb accept him, "Perhaps we have learned all we need to learn from this conversation. Maybe it's time to turn in...I am satisfied, Mollymauk Tealeaf. For now." The way Molly sounds so sincere when he thanks him. "This is not how I expected things to go...thank you."

They're all he has now, the nein. And when Lucien's last living relative, the person he thought of as his only family--when she cuts him out of her life, he wishes he was dead. How much would it have hurt Molly then--who already lost the circus, the people who raised him--how would it feel if he was abandoned by the Mighty Nein too?

Especially after how desperately vulnerable Molly lets himself be in that moment, aching not to lose this, to lose the only people he has left--"I'm not saying that I know what I'm doing or anything, but I don't want anybody--I want this to work. I need this to work."

Molly who is always running from something, who is terrified of letting anyone get too close and finding out about Lucien and a shallow grave and how terribly hollow and Empty he always felt--

Molly's whole heart shatters when he loses Lestera. When Yasha and Jester and Fjord are all taken. He's so fiercely protective of his loved ones and can't bear the thought of losing anyone else. Yasha even berates him for rushing to the rescue of strangers, risking his own life for people he doesn't even know.

The way Lucien just wallows in his misery until someone else is there to snap him out of it, using sex as a coping mechanism to just distract himself from all his pain, wanting so badly to just be with someone and feel their warmth. Aching for companionship.

Does Molly still feel the same? Does he still try to fill that gnawing Emptiness? When he has moments where he aches to be seen for who he is, when he feels "broken" and craves affection, longing to feel more alive, whole--does he ever let himself act on those feelings? We know he's been lonely still, since Lestera. That he tries to brush it off, but still admits that painful truth to Yasha, "Suppose I could use the company, I am recently out of a relationship the hard way..."

And...months after his death, when Molly still thinks back on a gentle forehead kiss, comparing it to the last moments Lucien spent with his own lover--does he ever wish they'd had more time? That neither of them had to be alone? "A tender banishment. Caleb. Softness and light. Clammy skin under rough lips. Molly's nose brushing Caleb's hair...Those memories were gone. All of it was lost to him now. Kindness is never lost or forgotten."

Are those moments truly gone, or does that longing stay with him still? When Kingsley wakes from a long lovely dream and a terribly violent death, when he's still reeling from shock and confusion and the numbing ache of Emptiness, still trying to piece together who he is...he sill flirts with the "cute magic man," still falls back on old habits like Molly and Lucien before him.

If there are ever moments when Tealeaf starts to spiral again, when he nearly succumbs to that clawing, lonely Emptiness--does he reach out to the man he saw as, "softness and light" still? Does he still ache for a familiar touch, a tender banishment? For someone to quiet all the nightmares, and make him feel less Empty for a little while?

[violent-backed-starling]

Critical Role Double Life AU

So this would be the player characters and Essek in the world of Double Life (Minecraft Series)

The Pairings (randomized)

Beau & Tary - Daddy Issues

Veth & Ashton - Alcoholics

Fearne & Pike - Hot Girl Shit

Essek & Jester - Everyone has a Crush on Them

Grog & Caleb - Brains and Brawn

Fjord & Dorian - Shy Charisma Boys

FCG & Bertrand - Old Ass Man & Older Ass Robot

Laudna & Mollymauk - Back from the Dead

Vax & Imogen - Loves a Marisha

Percy & Yasha - Oh, So you have White Hair and Trauma?

Scanlan & Caduceus - All or Nothing

Vex & Orym - Keepers of the Brain Cell

Chetney & Keyleth - Animorphs

So same rules as double life, each couple has 3 lives and they share hp, last pair standing wins!

Beau and Tary take a minute to get along, but eventually they work together okay after bonding over their shitty dads. They spend quite a bit of time with Percy and Yasha. I think they would set up a thoroughly trapped base. I think they build a mansion and winery for their base and make a load of potions. They have an enchanting table for sure. Beau is very much the up close and personal fighter whereas Tary is a little more distant. He sends tnt minecarts and squishes people with anvils.

Veth and Ashton are both suspicious of each other at first, but they still get shit done. They get on better as they spend more time, realizing that at least the other won't stab them in the back. They make a bunker for a base, and stock it with booze, bolts, and fireworks. Veth traps the shit out of it. They are a terrifying combo in battle with Ashton up front and center taking hits and destroying people with his hammer and Veth picking off people from a distance with her crossbow. Veth does still spend a bit of time with Caleb on the side though.

Fearne and Pike get on fairly easily. They are both iconic and get shit done. Fearne loves to spy on everyone else and comes home with drama. She is also an arsonist and we love that for her. Pikey is more restrained in her chaos, but she is still out there causing problems. She sets off more traps than she would like to admit, but miraculously survives most of them. She is a bit better in combat than Fearne is but, they are both very good at surviving fights, even if they don't get the most kills. I think they build up a bakery and hide a bunker underneath it. They also just have several lava traps and fire pits around their home to defend it.

Essek and Jester already know each other and get on well. Together they build a beautiful tower, like the one in Tangled. It has several secret entrances and passageways. Jester seems like the type of person to have an army of tamed wolves. So she absolutely does, they all have special collars and are all named. They are both distance fighters as well so their towers works well to keep them out of harms way whilst they shoot arrows and throw fire charges as well as splash potions. Essek is a fancy lad and I fully believe that he has loads on end crystals and obsidian that he uses as his main weapon. Jester somehow got her hands on a trident (she stole it) and is wreaking havoc with that from the tower. Jester also keeps several bees just because she wants to.

Grog and Caleb get on okay at first, Grog is pretty friendly for the most part, but Caleb is wary of him. I think their base is a tower, but this tower has a bunker at the bottom that serves as a quick restock point for Grog since he is out on the battlefield with his axe wrecking shit. Caleb stays up in the tower mostly, shooting his fire charges, flame arrows, and pouring lava down the sides on the tower. Grog is very excited about all the traps that Caleb cooks up and happily uses his supply of end crystals whenever he can. They work well together.

Fjord and Dorian get on well, but is takes a minute for them to actually trust each other. Their base is a ship sat in the sky floating on clouds. These two are quite versatile in battle. They are good at both ranged and close combat. Fjord has several puffer-fish that he uses in close combat as well as his sword. Dorian uses his axe when in close combat. When at a distance they use their tridents and arrows. Fjord can be impulsive at times, but overall these two are some of the more peaceful members on the group. They don't have many traps set up, but they do have several alliances. They are allied with Beau, Tary, Essek, Jester, Orym, Vex, Caduceus, and Scanlan.

FCG and Bertrand get on alright, not the closest, but they do alright together. They do have the most accessible base out of everyone. It isn't trapped at all, but they are mostly left alone, well, their base is. Bertrand is a tricksy guy and manages to rile up many of the other folks. They don't dislike him, but they don't trust him either. FCG on the other hand is pretty well-liked and trusted. They are not the best in combat, but they seem to come out of it alive. Bertrand does know his way around a sword and FCG has an affinity for his crossbow.

Laudna and Mollymauk get on like a house on fire. They have the cutest home on the server. It is a cottage with a patchwork tent attached to the side. It is cozy and colorful. They have matching friendship bracelets that they made for each other and everything. They of course spend time with Imogen and Vax as well as Yasha and Percy. They spend quite a bit of time together as they wander the land together. If you spot one the other is likely somewhere nearby. As they get closer they swap stories about walking up from death. Molly is their close combat expert whereas Laudna is their sniper. Molly goes around with his swords and Laudna shoots from from far away with a bow.

Vax and Imogen are wary of each other at first, but eventually get on pretty well by the end. They share a house atop a hill where they have a pretty good view of several other people. Imogen has a stable of horses as well. They often ride into battle together, striking fast and retreating before people know what hit them. They often visit Vex and Orym, Keyleth and Chetney, as well as Laudna and Molly. Imogen is more of a distance fighter, but Vax is good either close up or at a distance.

Percy and Yasha eventually grow to trust each other but it starts out a bit rocky as they are both quiet around people they don't know or trust at first. They have a nice castle. Yasha has a beautiful garden and Percy has trapped the land around the castle thoroughly and has made several escape passages. He is already paranoid enough coming into this. Together they build makeshift graves to those they have lost after spending a lot of time together. Percy also makes a load of snipers perches around the map. Yasha goes with him and hides little caches of stuff by each hidden perch so that they are always ready for a fight wherever they are. She also stashes some food in his perches so that he doesn't run out of food. He often helps sharpen her blade and makes her a bunch of little things to help in battle.

Scanlan and Caduceus get on well enough. They respect each other. Caduceus is pretty calm and lives in a small cabin by Scanlan's mansion. Cad keeps a small mushroom garden and makes a load of potions that he shares with most anyone. They don't have any true enemies as they are just kind of vibing. There is usually music playing at their base. Scanlan gets a load of fire charges and end crystals from people just by asking. This man has a silver tongue and he knows how to use it. They don't have many traps, but the ones they have are weird and effective. They have several animals just roaming around their base. Scanlan is ruthless once the get into battle and so is Caduceus, after all, death and violence are very much parts of nature. They are oddly terrifying because of how fast they switch from being welcoming to just killing.

Vex and Orym get on pretty well. They work together extraordinarily well together. They make plans and stick to them. They are another ranged and close combat duo. They share a regular keep, nothing super fancy but it is nice and functional. They have several traps as is to be expected. They know what they're doing. They are good at using terrain to their advantage. Vex perches with her bow and Orym slips through battles causing damage as needed and catching hits on his shield. Vex keeps a few potions on her at all times just in case. They are prepared but not overly so and adapt as needed. Orym respects Vex and she is just happy to have someone who will actually follow the plans she makes, but will make ideas on the fly by himself as needed. They compliment each other, especially in battle.

Keyleth and Chetney take a minute to warm up but they get there, eventually. They have a base that is a huge oak and their basement is a hollow surrounded by roots. They are a bit worried about how flammable their base is as the days pass, but they store most of their better stuff under the earth anyways. They are an absolutely terrifying combo in combat. Chetney is always a wild card and an absolute menace, whereas Keyleth is terrryfying in her raw power and switch from being her more socially awkward, charming self, into a lean, mean, killing machine. These two often talk about their lengthened life spans what that means for Keyleth on top of Chetney's experiences. He gives her a bit of confidence she didn't have before and his rough edges have been softened a bit. They trust each other in battle completely. Sure Chetney will spy on people, dig tunnels under others bases, and steal from people, but he is her ally and they work well together.

Randomized Death Order

Vex & Orym

FCG & Bertrand  

Percy & Yasha

Essek & Jester

Grog & Caleb

Fearne & Pike 

Grog & Caleb  

Fjord & Dorian  

Essek & Jester  

Chetney & Keyleth  

Beau & Tary

Vax & Imogen

Fjord & Dorian

FCG & Bertrand

Laudna & Mollymauk

Grog & Caleb

Vax & Imogen

Scanlan & Caduceus

Fearne & Pike

Scanlan & Caduceus

Laudna & Mollymauk

Chetney & Keyleth

Veth & Ashton

Vex & Orym

Chetney & Keyleth

Laudna & Mollymauk

Scanlan & Caduceus

Vax & Imogen

Fjord & Dorian

Beau & Tary

Veth & Ashton

Percy & Yasha

Essek & Jester

Fearne & Pike

FCG & Bertrand

Vex & Orym

Percy & Yasha

Veth & Ashton

Beau & Tary - Winners!

[proelio-procusi-a]

mini   character   playlist   :   share   at   least   five   songs   that   remind   you   of   your   muse,   or   that   you   associate   with   your   muse's   character   arc.   including   lyrics   is   optional.

Vax'ildan

1 Running up that Hill - Samuel Kim cover

Say, if I only could \ I'd make a deal with God / And I'd get Him to swap our places / I'd be runnin' up that road / Be runnin' up that hill / With no problems

2 This is Gospel - Panic at the Disco

Don't try to sleep through the end of the world / And bury me alive / Cause I won't give up without a fight / If you love me let me go

3 Death is a Bird Flying - Dominik Zingler, Nicolette Stewart & Port Sulphur Band

Death is no man / Death is no wraith / Death is a bird / Flying

4 Far From Home - Sam Tinnez

I'm sending a raven / With blood on its wings / Hoping it reaches you in time / And you know what it means

5 Hey Brother - Avicii

What if I lose it all? / Oh sister, I will help you out / Oh, if the sky comes falling down / For you / There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

Mollymauk

1 Empty - Chase Atlantic

Tell me why the fuck I feel so empty / This might be the reason that she left me / Mama, what's the reason I feel empty? / I might pop another, please don't tempt me / Tell me why the fuck I feel so empty

2 Freak Show - Dead Posey

One for the money, two for the freak show / Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh / Three gettin' ready, four 'cause you never know / Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh

3 Afraid - The Neighborhood

When I wake up, I'm afraid / Somebody else might take my place / When I wake up, I'm afraid / Somebody else might end up being me

4 Cast the Bronze - Raynes

Make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something I can do / And I'll paint it red / If you're still unsure, let me lie for a day / Before they formally announce me dead / When I'm gone, cast the bronze for the bust of my head / To be displayed in the library / Engrave that I gave my consent / To be anything that anyone prefer I be

5 I'm Still Here - Cover by Colm R. McGuinness

And I want a moment to be real / Wanna touch things I don't feel / Wanna hold on and feel I belong / And how can the world want me to change? / They're the ones that stay the same / They don't know me 'cause I'm not here

Weylyn

1 I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

I never trust a narcissist / But they love me / So I play 'em like a violin / And I make it look oh so easy / 'Cause for every lie I tell them / They tell me three

2 Devilish - The Phantoms

Revenge, my favourite dish / Your sins falling from your lips / Lights out, time to make a wish / Oh oh oh, so devilish / So devilish / Oh so devilish

3 Sinners - Barns County

Dancing on cold feet / Marching on cobble streets / Oh sinners come down, yeah-eh-eh / Yeaaah, I must be good for something / Yeaaah, yeaaah, yeah

4 Warriors - Imagine Dragons

In youth, you'd lay awake at night and scheme / Of all the things that you would change / But it was just a dream

5 The King - Rosendale

The father decreed / The new rule of law / His son to be banished outside of the walls / But the son had a plan / And his heart was convinced / There'd never be room for both king and a prince

Caleb

1 The Man who Can't Forget - Bart Zeal and Karliene

He saw his whole world breaking / That tortured soul I met / In a prison of his making / The man who can’t forget

2 Turn Out the Lights - Crane Wives

You don't have to believe every single thought / That tumbles through your head / Just 'cause it sounds like you talking / Sometimes all you can do / Is say goodnight and tuck your demons into bed / 'Cause they're not worth fighting

3 Ember - Katherine McNamara

You'd hold me (hold me) / Control me (control me) / You stole me (stole me) / Your plan almost broke me / Ashes remind me / Just who am I / I am ember / 'Bout to start a wildfire (wildfire, wildfire) / I am ember / Burning down your empire / Glowing brighter than the darkness inside of you / Can't escape the flame no matter what you do

4 Angel on Fire - Halsey

And I'm fading away, you know I used to be on fire / I'm standing in the ashes of who I used to be / But I'm fading away, you know I used to be on fire / You know I used to be on fire

5 Waving Through a Window - Cast of Dear Evan Hansen

Give them no reason to stare / No slipping up if you slip away / So I got nothing to share / No, I got nothing to say

tagged by : @astraltouch tagging: @notyetfixed @infernaliscor @aschcregen @xbadnews @arcanecast @cupcaketrickster

[saphirered]

Would a Mollyxreader be possible where they briefly had a relationship when the circus passed through the reader’s hometown, but when they meet again in Trostenwald and the M9 forms, neither acknowledges that they know each other until the first night in Alfield. Molly has his drink and panic attack. The reader goes down too because they just saw Molly get shot and have emotions about it. Some combination of angst, fluff, and pda ensues

Hope this turned out how you hoped! Sorry for the wait. Currently going through all the requests assembled outside of the autumn prompts. 😘

The memory replays in Mollymauk's head, over and over. No amount of drink can quell this but he can certainly try. If he’s knocked out cold, he can’t think about this, can he? That’s reasonable logic, is it not? Not at all but that won’t stop him from doing it anyway. He blinks and again it flashes; pain spreads through his body. Arrow strikes true. He’s been injured plenty of times, has lost consciousness plenty too, but never so close to death. The suffocating earth burns in his lungs again. His eyes wander, searching for anything, anyone to show him he’s not alone, this is not history repeating itself, this won’t end in him digging himself out of yet another grave, if at all. When his eyes land on you he wish he hadn’t seen. You look at him in horror. The world turns to slow motion. You shout his name and when you try to run to him, escape the attacks of the creatures that attack you, you only manage to dodge the first, but the second rakes across your abdomen, and that’s that. You drop. Still with your last strength you try to crawl over to him, bleeding and broken, but then the blade stabs down into you once more and you are unmoving, hand stretched towards him. Your eyes close, brow furrowed in pain before you go limp. Had he the strength left to shout or cry, he would have but he feels himself slip from consciousness too. And then he returns to the tavern, pulled out of that vision again when you sit next to him. 

“So what number of drink is this and how many do I need to catch up?” You make yourself as comfortable as possible. Still Molly sees the violent of blood, ash and dirt, the holes in your clothes show the bandages beneath. Even with magical healing did you need more extensive wound care. You’re out of the thick of it so that’s good at least but you’ll need another boost in the morning once the resident healer has had time to recover. 

“None of your business, and none.” He answers swinging back the contents of his cup. “You should not be drinking right now.” First time ever he’s the voice of reason here. You roll your eyes and order a drink anyway. It was worth a try. 

“I’ll just take a guess then. We did just almost die.” There’s humour in your voice but it’s morbid and he comes to realise this is your way of coping. He sees the tremble in your hand as you lift the mug of ale. He sees it in his own hands too. Breathing is more difficult and Molly wonders; do you feel it too? He waits for you to finish your drink and order another while he nurses a refill of his own and thinks. 

He knows if he’s dead that might be it. Does he want to go? Hell no but death is part of life and he’d be a fool if he wasn’t going to fight tooth to nail to stay. That’s within his control but when he saw you fall… When that blade stabbed through your back and he swore he saw the light leave your eyes, he has never been more terrified of death in his life. This is all too much. This violence. Perhaps he is not meant for adventure. Stories are fine. Pretending in the circus is too but this is real. This is very very real. These are real people and not some strangers. He might have just met them but he cares about them. And then there’s you. He’s not spoken the words and neither have you so he doubts the others know of your previous involvement. You’ve not given them a reason to figure it out. It’s been strange but what short-lived romance he shared with you, he’s come to realise runs much deeper than he thought. He thought he could separate it, thought he could leave it in the past, if only to see if you’re still the same people, or how different you’ve become, but he can’t separate you from his past, from you now. He cares. He cares very much and the thought of losing you, especially because you tried to save him, that is too big a burden to bear upon his heart. He’s been wasting enough time. 

Molly feels lightheaded, bends over the bar holding onto the cup in his hands so tight his fingers begin turning lilac. His breathing is strained and he trembles. Then he feels a gentle palm hesitantly lay against his back, another pulls the cup from his iron grip and replaces it with a warm hand. He holds on tight, not crushing, stills somewhat mindful of his strength and the fact this hand belongs to another, to you. You tell him to breathe. You tell him all will be well. You whisper sweet nothings. You sit closer to him and he is thankful for your warmth because he feels so incredibly cold. You have him sit up, have him focus on you and while he has some trouble to not let his mind slip and wander, you succeed in keeping him grounded. You never once let go of him as you stabilise his breathing until the lightheadedness fades enough to no longer feel like he’ll pass out any second now. Still his breath is somewhat shallow and the tremble remains, you force a smile. 

“How about some fresh air?” It’s not quite an order but it’s definitely more than a suggestion. His lungs burn at the thought of an open space, where he does not feel confined. When did this place start feeling so heavy? You wrap an arms round him, let his drape across your shoulders. Despite Molly’s insistence he’ll be fine, you ignore him and he’s thankful because the moment his feet touch solid ground, he loses his balance and you catch him. You give him a look as if to say ‘I told you so’ and Molly cannot even find it within himself to argue or counter with some witty remark. You begin guiding him outside, through the back because neither of you feel like setting foot in that street again. The smouldering fires still remain, as does the gore and blood and you do not need a reminder of everything that happened just an hour ago. 

“How-how are you?” Molly once he feels comfortable he can stand on his own two legs takes up residence at some of the empty supply crates set against the wall as you pace. He doesn’t know why he asked the question and is already quite certain he knows the answer.

“Just peachy.” You deign a sarcastic eye roll. Molly snorts. Should have known. “You?” He thinks. How is he doing? Terrible would be the short answer. The long answer, he doesn’t know how to put words to that. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders sinking. In an instance you’re at his side, your hand on his shoulder, the other lacing with his. He’s thankful for you, for your attention and your care.

“Why are you so good to me?” It’s a genuine question but he didn’t intend to speak these words aloud. You again force a half smile. 

“Because months ago a man living larger than life walked into my hometown and told me he liked leaving every place better than he found it. And I thought, a man like that may have known few kind things from the world beyond the circus tent. Perhaps that could be changed.” You reminisce to all those times, when you grew closer, to something more. You recall the intricacies, and how Molly made you feel wanted and alive. When you’re with him you’re not a victim to the whims of this world, of other. When you’re with him you make your own fate. To see that same man right now, scared of something you cannot begin to comprehend. He never felt like he needed to know every single detail to understand. Neither do you. That doesn’t make this any less frightening. 

“A wise man. Handsome too, he must be.” Molly finds his humour. You bump your shoulder into his and shake your head. That forced smile turns into a true one, and a giggle even escapes your lips. That’s what brings joy back to his mind. It’s so easy. It’s so easy loving you. He’s been trying to ignore it for a while, after all he left with the circus but you’d known even back then one day he would stay, and you would remain. You were given a second chance and look what you two had done with it? You’ve been dancing around each other, been denying that you were once more than familiar and instead opted for being strangers. And for what? 

“Very handsome. And boisterous. Enigmatic yet an open book. A true charmer too. Anyone would be a fool to not fall for that philanderer.” You lift your fingers to his chin but he brushes them away and angles to fully face you, eyes filled with judgement and jaw dropped. 

“Philanderer? Excuse you! I pride myself on my charm but I will not take judgement from your hedonistic arse, thank you very much!” He scoffs crossing his arms. You cup his cheeks and Molly forces himself to not lean into your touch. 

“You’ve had plenty of positive opinions of my ‘hedonistic arse’ in the past. Something changed?” You muse. His hands land over yours and pull them from his cheeks, instead lacing with yours, playing with your fingers, brushing along every callous, cut and scrape. 

“I suppose your hedonistic arse has its charms.” He sways. “Does that make you feel better?” 

“Does it make you feel better?” You retort. 

“If I said yes can we forget us being fools and will you let me kiss you?” A bold spark of confidence. He caught it, and used it and when you chuckle, he’s afraid he might have made the wrong move, that he might have ruined it or you weren’t on the same page. When he feels your lips against his, any doubt in his mind disappears. It’s a short and sweet peck but in that moment Molly truly realises what he’s missed and knows; he doesn’t want to miss out on any of this anymore. He’ll take every second he can get because time spent with you is never wasted. 

“Just a kiss? Did you leave that creativity in Trostenwald?” He nudges that spot just below your ribs, at your side that has you double over instantly. You catch yourself onto him and retaliate, still mindful of both your injuries, but whatever pressure there was, seems to have disappeared and been replaced by this familiar comfort. You’ll have your tough times and so will he but you’re here for each other. When you can’t brave the world, he’ll hold your hand. When he feels abandoned, he’ll know that no matter what he’ll have you at his side. Not a moment is wasted. 

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E134 & 135 (April 27, 2021)

It's late, it's great, it's... Talks Machina! Tonight's guests: Ashley Johnson & Taliesin Jaffe! Immediately, I distractedly pour beer onto my steak instead of steak sauce. It's been one of those weeks, what can I say?

Taliesin has a new rule for 2021 - no passively wearing t-shirts. Button-downs only! I appreciate this from a distance. Caduceus had a very hard time saying goodbye to his family. The vision from the Wildmother helped a lot in giving him peace. He also is conflicted because Caduceus knows he should stay, but really didn't...want to stay, which surprised Taliesin.

Ashley laughs that sometimes during voiceover recording or recaps, she has moments of thinking - "I wasn't there for this scene! And then I remember that Travis was playing her, or Matt was playing her. Oh yeah, I totally remember this!" Even now Blindspot's reach...reaches.

It's so intense being the focus of Matt's attention in one-on-one situations. "It's so stressful. Math goes out the window, everything goes out the window, it's like woo-woo-woo." There's intense pressure not to fuck it up. Right before they started the game, Travis made some offhand comment about her being ready to die, and during the whole Stormlord scene he kept making eyebrows to remind her of it.

Being the Stormlord's champion gives her a feeling of purpose, a special reason to exist. She thinks about how much longer she would have been in the service of Oban if the Stormlord hadn't saved her.

The whole Clay family didn't leave all at once, it was one every few years. His sister was the "hypnotized version of Danny Kay in the Court Jester," who was ready to get out as soon as possible. She was the "anywhere-but-here" sibling and was the smart one. Taliesin feels bad that she went out and immediately turned into stone.

Ashley is super excited about the Holy Avenger. If she can roll well and actually hit something, she's very happy to be carrying it around.

Caduceus has just connected his dream with the plot/the Mighty Nein. Tal's embarrassed it took him so long to figure it out, especially since he wrote it & had intended it to be a nice connection to Mollymauk!

Yasha is holding onto her last request just in case it comes up in game again.

Cosplay of the Week: a spectacular Astrid in black velvet by @shelflifecosplay on Twitter. She looks amazing!

Caduceus doesn't really care about the intent of these people not caring about/believing in the gods in their location. Especially since he follows a nature god, he thinks "clearly you guys have taken this as far as it's gonna go, and clearly you all couldn't get over your shit and are now causing problems hundreds of years later." He's not one to take offense.

In a similar vein, exploring this place is very wild to Yasha as she's already working on navigating her relationship to the Stormlord.

Both Caduceus & Yasha (and Taliesin & Ashley) are disappointed that Charlie can't follow them through the rest of the dungeon. :( "There was a sidequest. We deserve a robot!"

Caduceus has embraced a certain amount of "fuck it" practicality and has been willing to bend certain personal rules to keep everyone alive. He is less and less conflicted casting Speak With Dead when bodies in dangerous situations might be able to reveal information.

Taliesin was Dani's last hug over a year ago. :(

Aeor in general is very hard for Yasha to wrap her brain around. She's a little frightened by it. The eyes on Beau and Caleb are really freaking her out. She's a little like the group's border collie: "I'm gonna keep you all together! I'm gonna keep you all safe!"

"Matt is the kindest, most wonderful soul, but there is a darkness sometimes...Where does that come from?"

In any other circumstance, Cad would have been doing Superman loops in that ward's flight. He was disheartened by the sheer scope of what they were looking at. Brian is loving the art coming out of these scenes.

Brian laughs that we are now seeing the "push-the-button" side of Ashley the way we know Travis does. She tries to hold back where Yasha would, but she really likes the element of chaos. She loves the robe she pulled out.

Fanart of the Week: Molly leading the Tombtakers by casukaga on Twitter.

Brian has put an old-fashioned typewriter on a modern DJ stand for a bit. I am both stunned and utterly unsurprised.

Taliesin talks about various museums he's been to: The Twinkie Museum, the Museum of Miniatures, a dollhouse museum, the Museum of Jurassic Technology...Brian tells us about an exhibit he and Ashley saw a history of STDs & the effects on the body over time. "There were a lot of jars..."

Taliesin has been thinking about Cad's conversation with Veth a lot since they had it. He stands by everything he said, and notes that Veth is a very difficult character to play asking very difficult questions. He wonders where Sam is at with the war between what you want to do and what you feel you must do.

How does Yasha feel about an Official Relationship with Beau? Great! She was worried about how to make the transition from friends to significant others & was very excited for Yasha to be able to share this openly with her friends. She likes being embarrassed by Beau's PDA.

Caduceus is comfortable heading out with the team because he is convinced that even if he dies, this is what he was intended to do. Yasha loved that they had one last family dinner.

Caduceus doesn't really register the Aeor effect as magic, just general weirdness affecting his attempts to keep people alive.

Ashley & Taliesin are both super conscious of the time they are spending in every choice. Ashley does feel like she's trying to eke out a few more moments here and there where she can. It's such a wonderful game and she wants to get the last few moments with her friends where she can.

And that's that! Is it Thursday yet? (Yes, yes it is!)

[captainkingsley]

My favorite dnd setting is Eberron and now I'm thinking up an Eberron au for the Nein for the fun of it. Some get a class swap, too, but I guess that just comes with the setting change.

There would obviously be a whole different plot, and while I don't want to undertake the ordeal of writing an entire fic, here's my ramblings for the Nein and how they'd fit into the Eberron setting.

Molly, a Risian tiefling with ice coating his horns. Blood hunters in Eberron have their own suggested lore, and with it I could see him being a part of the Order of the Silver Night. For every cut to himself, a part of his soul seeps out of him, making room for Lucien — the original owner of the body, and possibly attached to the Lords of Dust, having defected from the Order? Molly hopes to break the connection between them before all nine of the eye tattoos open.

Caleb, formerly a student of the floating towers of Arcanix, now a very accomplished artificer, with his steel defender, Frumpkin. After uncovering that one of his teachers has a connection to the evil bound and whispering under the towers, he's been on the run and learning how to use the new post-war technology to topple the heirarchy of the school.

Veth, who made a deal with one of the daughters of Sora Kell to get her family back, now a warlock. Still a rogue, as well, which I think some botched thievery led to her losing her family and becoming indebted to Sora Teraza. She was promised that once she fulfilled her debt, she'd get Yeza and Luc back — but Veth isn't sure how much the hag wants.

Fjord, a former member of the Diresharks, running from the Lhazaar Principalities out of his fear of the agreement his Prince made with the Emerald Claw. At first he tried sailing with another crew, but after Vandran's ship was attacked by one flying the colors of the Diresharks, Fjord fled to the mainland in hopes of severing his connection.

Jester, also a planetouched tiefling, but one with influence from Thelanis, carrying with her the stories from the Fae plane. There are some stories that have unwritten endings, and she's going to find them — even if one of them is her own.

Beau, the only one getting a race change, though her appearance stays the same: a kalashtar monk, whose quori helps her still despite the tension between her and her family. Her quori does their best to help her cope with her struggles after she left on bad terms, while training her to control the abilities she never finished studying in her time at the monastery.

Caduceus, a druid following the ancient ways of the Gatekeepers, living in a secluded area of the Shadow Marches. Firbolgs aren't common in Eberron, at least in Khorvaire — so the strange, ancient magic he uses to bar the dead from entering the material plane is shrugged off as just a part of what he is.

Yasha, a planetouched aasimar of Shavarath, as strong as the steel and iron that are associated with the plane. Bound to pursue one side of the conflict, but she doesn't know which one. One day she feels the pull from the devils, and the next the celestials pull her toward a path of justice. The Silver Flame has an interest in her helping to unlock her full potential — maybe that's where she met Mollymauk.

Any of the Nein could wind up Dragonmarked, as well — I know official Eberron lore suggests that they're connected to race, but my own personal homebrew of Siberys Dragonmarks will manifest on anyone of any race or family, so.

[intergalacticwanderer]

(Circus Kids week day 1 - first meetings)

Molly almost missed it at first. There, out in the field, was a spot of storm cloud grey, not moving but not quite the right shape for a stone either. He leaned forward in the cart, squinting to try and get a better look and his tail waving in the air behind him. Was that...

“Hey! Gustav!”

Further up in their procession of carts the leader of the carnival turned back to look his way, the half elf already wary at his tone. “Yes?”

“I think I see someone out there! Can I go take a look?”

Several more pairs of eyes turned his way at that, but Molly was undeterred, tail still lashing back and forth as he flashed Gustav a grin.

“It could be a bandit, Molly,” Gustav said.

“Could be!” Molly said cheerfully. “Could also be someone needing help. Just a quick look, no problem, right there and back.” Knowing how he liked to do things, it would most likely not be right there and back, and from Gustav’s expression, he knew that too. But Molly just kept grinning, hoping that he might let him do it anyway.

Gustav sighed and then held up a hand, the line of carts coming to a rolling stop. “A quick look,” Gustav said, fixing Molly with a stare when the tiefling bounced out of his own cart. “Fifteen minutes, and then we’re moving again.”

“Got it!” Molly said, knowing that even with the time limit Gustav wouldn’t actually leave him behind (though he might have to jog a bit to catch up). Giving a quick wave to Toya he walked out into the field, hands resting casually on the hilts of his swords. Gustav could still be right about this whole thing, after all, and even he had his limits for being a fool.

Grass swishing against his calves as he walked closer, the grey shape he’d seen earlier definitely resolved itself into a person, facing away and sitting hunched on the ground. Asleep, or resting maybe? Hopefully not dead at least. When he was ten feet away with still no reaction Molly figured it was time for him to speak up.

“Hey! You okay there?”

The person gave a ragged gasp and surged to their feet and- whoa, yeah, she was big, definitely taller than him, and a lot more muscled too, but when she spun around to face him, she just... stopped. Stared at him with wide eyes and didn’t move, mouth slightly open.

Molly found himself thinking of wild animals and he approached slowly, raising his hands in the air. “Ways out in the wilderness to be on your own. Want some company? Some friendly company is always nice,” he said as he came closer, now only around five feet away and still no movement from the woman. At this point he was almost positive she wasn’t a bandit, and if she was she was she’d fallen on some hard times. The muscles he’d noticed had a drawn quality to them, and both her hair and clothes were worse for wear, showing serious exposure to the elements. And even with all of that, she still looked like she could easily kick his ass. If nothing else he found himself admiring her ability to survive.

“I think I’ve got some food here,” he said, and while she still didn’t move from where she was standing her eyes tracked his movement as he dug in his pockets, and she blinked when he pulled out an apple with an “Aha!”

“There we go! Something sweet, perfect to take the edge off a long day.” It was a bit more bruised than he would have liked but he held it out her way, waiting to see what she would do.

She reached out, hesitant, and his heart leapt when she took the apple from his hand. Her skin was cool where their fingers brushed together and Molly beamed as she took her first bite. “That’s all I have but there’s more that way,” he said, turning and pointing towards the waiting line of carts. “S’not much but there’s people and food and place to sleep if you’d like, no questions asked. One night or one month, any is fine by me.” He knew he might be over extending the hospitality of the carnival by making the offer, that it wasn’t his place to say, but the way she hadn’t even spoken yet, how she had the tiniest little smile just from getting to eat a bruised apple...

(Even now, several months later, Molly still woke up with nightmares of dirt clogging his throat. Remembered quiet evenings with a blanket draped over his shoulders and being able to say nothing but the word “empty”.)

“Ah, I almost forgot myself!” Molly snapped his fingers and the woman jumped slightly at the sharp noise. “Mollymauk Tealeaf, at your service,” he said, giving a dramatic bow before straightening back up with a grin. “Though you can call me Molly.”

She nodded, still chewing on the apple, and his heart leapt again when she cleared her throat.

“My name is Yasha,” she said quietly, and oh her voice was rough, but he could hear a hint of something softer, more mellow. He hoped he could get the chance to hear more of it.

“Yasha, wonderful! A lovely name for a lovely person,” he said, and moved up to stand next to her. “I have to be heading back, but if you'd like to come with...?” He held out his arm, hopeful.

Yasha paused. Hesitating. And then, slowly and gently, she placed her hand on Molly's arm. Nodded.

His heart just about soared.

Molly couldn't stop smiling, tail waving behind him, and he placed his other hand over Yasha's, her giving a tentative smile in return as they started to walk.

“Now! There's a few more people for you to meet, but I’m sure they’ll love you.” He patted her hand. “You have nothing to worry about.”

He knew in that moment that Yasha was still a stranger, and that she might not stick around. This could just be a passing encounter and soon enough she’d be on her way. But if she did stick around?

As one carnival stray to another, Molly knew that she wouldn’t stay a stranger for long, and he couldn’t wait for the chance to get to know her.

[railroad-migraine]

Okay spoilers for Ep 33/34 of Campaign 3 so it's a read more kinda post :) Rambles ahead, feel free to ignore.

You have been warned!

So I haven't watched the episodes yet, I'm still playing catch up, but I was partly spoiled by a YouTube recommendation (thanks for the spoiler in the vid title btw /extreme sarcasm) and partly curious so I just had to look up WHO DIES BC THEY ARE MY FAVES (they're all my faves at this point ngl)

And ooooooh boy. For some reason I expected Orym to die. He'd be with Will and other fallen friends and family again, be able to rest his head and not have to worry so much anymore (ofc I do not want any of them to die bc I love them all, but in my head it made sense y'know)

But Laudna. My fun scary girl. I love her so so much.

She's barely had a life and it's already been taken from her. I really want her back, but I'm unsure how that will go. (Keep in mind I don't know the full context yet of the tough battle Matt threw at them yet :))

There's gonna be so much potential for spiralling morality narratives and angst and revenge and unrealistic promises. Would she even be the same person if she came back? What could this spark within the party and their values? In Laudna herself? Would Delilah still be clinging onto her mind, would she have a stronger or weaker control over her body?

Or will the party just... Move on. She stays dead, hopefully finally finding some peace after years of loss and loneliness, after meeting a rag tag group who genuinely cared for her, after protecting people she loves. She won't become someone or something else, like Mollymauk and Lucien and Kingsley. She'll just remain as they remember her, as simply but amazingly Laudna.

That said, despite me being in mourning a few episodes behind the inevitable, I am excited for whenever whenever Marisha returns to the table.

Be it an NPC, guest character, or PC - I always look forward to an introduction. Whether Marisha will come back as Laudna (who in my opinion was her best character yet), or a completely new character, I am excited to see how/who she will play next.

[purpleandsilver]

Behind my eyes it's coming down

Fuck it here's some shadowgast fluff.

Title from Lucky by Aurora. It's an excellent, wholesome, gut-wrenching masterpiece. Go listen to it.

Spoilers for campaign 2, episode 140.

Essek watches from afar as the Mighty Nein get reacquainted with their previously dead friend. With Mollymauk. Molly to his friends. Essek smiles and sips his tea, made from "dead people" according to Jester. He doesn't think about it. Today- is it still today? Time felt different in the Astral Sea. It almost felt endless, and yet nonexistent- death had been very present.

He saw Caleb die and then he saw him come back.

He saw the Mighty Nein beg, plead for their friend whose body had been occupied from a horrendous entity. A terrible soul had taken over and it almost doomed the world.

He saw the resurrection spell fail. He felt anger at the unfairness. The Mighty Nein achieved absolute miracles. They stopped a war. They fought a god! And yet, when it mattered the most, they couldn't save their friend.

And then they did it. They brought him back. One failure did not led to another. Now that friend stood slightly confused but with a grin on his face. The Mighty Nein laughed and cheered and joked and drank and celebrated. Essek stayed in the shadows of a tree within the Blooming Groove and merely watched. He had participated somewhat but duty called him, and he could not stay long. Such is the life of a Shadowhand. He would have a hard time leaving, though.

Who wouldn't, in his position?

The thought made him pause, his lips mere centimeters from his tea cup.

With the Mighty Nein he was safe. With the Kryn Dynasty, he was doomed. Essek goes back and he's done for. Because let's face it: Essek's greatest sin will not be hidden for long. Not with the Dynasty's investigation. Not with-

There's a sudden tightness in his chest. Essek sets down the teacup and pulls his shaking hands under his cloak. He has to go back, no matter what. He could do some good, with whatever time is left for him. Perhaps he could write something about the beacons, fester doubt in the minds of the people. He often worried about the power the Luxon religion held over the nation. He worried that it made the people of his nation do unwise things, ignore hard truths, all for selfish reasons. Perhaps he could help foster relations with the Empire. Teaching Dunamancy could be a first step in that. Expanding the understands of magic all for the sake of unity. Perhaps-

Essek closed his eyes and leaned against the tree. Think small, Thelyss. He didn't have a lot of time left. Not with how close the investigation was getting to the truth.

The tightness in his chest returned and Essek took a deep breath. He didn't want death. He wanted to live. To see the Mighty Nein and whatever future they had. He wanted to begin anew with them, regain their trust, he wanted to know more about them. About Caleb, who made him feel things he hadn't felt in years, perhaps his whole life. He wanted-

Yes, he wanted to live. But duty calls.

Essek stood up. His rest was over. The Mighty Nein were beginning to wind down as well. Talk of sleeping reached his ears. Good, they needed a rest. Especially Caleb.

Essek took a deep breath and turned away, intending to cast his teleportation spell right then and there. They would understand if he left without saying goodbye. Duty calls.

Duty to his nation. Duty to his position as Shadowhand, as-

A hand grabbed his arm, stopping him mid cast. Essek jumps and spins around. He cloak catches the teacup and it knocks over. Essek ignores it because there before him is-

There, in the light of setting sun stood Caleb. His red hair ablaze in the sunset. His eyes alight with joy. Caleb puts his other hand on Essek's other arm.

"I'm not letting you leave just yet, Thelyss."

"You know I'd love to stay Widogast, but-"

Caleb steps closer to him, his hands still holding onto his arms. "Let's stop with the formalities, ja? We just saved the world. You just helped to save the world. Fjord told me about what he said to you. I can't help but agree with him: I've seen all I need to see."

"Caleb...." Why is there tears in his eyes? Why does his chest feel like it's going to collapse inward? Why does saying anything more than his name hurt?

Caleb let's go of Essek and steps back; Essek follows. He reaches up with a shaky hand and brushes a stray piece of ginger hair off of rosey cheeks. Sets his foreheads against another.

"Oh Caleb...."

"Can I kiss you?"

Essek nods, tears streaming down his face. "Please."

There are no words after that.

[dent-de-leon]

Hey I have some serious brainrot about this so I'm also gonna infect you with it:

Fjord and Jester and Kingsley stopping by Rexxentrum to visit Caleb and running into King's sister Aldreda and niece Mari at the market. Aldreda wants nothing to do with him and tells him "I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY, LUCIEN!" and he and Jester and Fjord have to explain to her that her brother Lucien is, essentially, dead.

They tell her that he was making his way as a treasure hunter, but he reached too far and was killed in a terrible accident trying to retrieve a deeply cursed object. He would have stayed that way if he hadn't been found and revived by the M9. He doesn't have many memories of who he was before and goes by the name Kingsley now.

Aldreda doesn't know whether to despair at the loss of her only living relative or to be happy that Lucien got a second chance to clean up his life and make something happy.

Kingsley has no idea how to react to someone who only knew him as Lucien, not Molly. But he feels an urge to protect this woman.

The tiny tiefling girl, Mari, reaches out for his hand. He takes it in his.

They smile.

aHHH my heart is still breaking about how soft and tender Lucien was with his niece and how badly he wanted to be a part of his sister's life and just--this is exactly the kind of post campaign content I'd love to see. King running into Aldreda while visiting Caleb in Rexxentrum, a stranger that feels so familiar. The rage and betrayal and grief in his sister's eyes, the way all of it still feels too raw and painful--

I really do love the thought of both of them having the chance to reconnect, to find some closure. Aldreda grieving the life Lucien lost, the future he could have had--but still seeing the softer side of his heart in Kingsley. A joy and freeness to him that Lucien never got.

King wanting to be there for his family the way he couldn't be before, still trying to do better--"I try to be a good person, or whatever I think that means." Feeling Lucien's kinship and protectiveness for Aldreda, still having Mollymauk's bleeding heart.

King carrying Mari in his arms and singing her songs Toya and the Moonweaver once taught him--

[mollymauk-teafleak]

The Problem with Magic Markers

Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short

If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

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Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.

-----------

Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.

Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.

And how silence was very, very worrying.

So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.

So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.

“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”

There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…

Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.

“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”

Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”

Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”

Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”

Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”

Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.

“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.

Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”

Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.

“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”

As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.

Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”

Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.

“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”

His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.

A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.

But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.

The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.

Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.

“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”

Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?

It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.

But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.

“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.

“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”

Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”

Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.

Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.

Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.

Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.

Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.

“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.

When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.

So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.

His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.

As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.

“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”

Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.

Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”

Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”

“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.

Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”

For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.

After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.

“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”

Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”

“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”

Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.

“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”

Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.

“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”

“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.

“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.

“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”

He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”

Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”

There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Thank you, Katze…”

“Is it done yet?”

Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.

“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”

Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.

“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”

Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”

Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.

As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”

[spoiler1001]

Prompt: An AU in which Caleb is a prince who is courting circus performer Molly

The king was dead. Caleb didn’t seem to care too much, King Ikithon was not as beloved as the new king to be. Caleb was dressed to the nines, the castle was decorated with love. Caleb should have been happy. The crops were growing after Trent had razed them to the ground. The crowd loved him, especially after he had… dethroned his benefactor. Caleb couldn’t help but feel guilty for taking such a final stance. As it stood now, Caleb had pledged loyalty to the Kingdom, not the king. 

The castle was big. Caleb had always known that since childhood. What was now boreing into him was how lonely the Castle now was. With Trent gone, so left his supporters which left the prince bereft of friends. 

And so the coronation commenced. The people voted on what they wanted as entertainment. They chose a circus. Of course, Ikithon had all but banned that form of entertainment or most forms of such from the kingdom. Caleb had no such plans on doing so and in fact, invited them to the coronation himself. Now all he had to do was wait. For six weeks.

Caleb wondered when the people would tire of the gimmick of him just not being Trent. He killed the last king and whether or not it was justified, that is still how he came to power. 

“Sir?” one of Caleb’s advisors announced. Caleb’s eyes looked up to the Half-orc advisor. The other man continued. “There is someone from the circus here to see you.” 

That took him by surprise. They weren’t expected for weeks still. Maybe they were making sure it was safe. It would make sense. 

“Let them in,” Caleb spoke up, straightening the front of his shirt, the prince crown resting heavily on his head. 

In walked a purple tiefling that was the most beautiful person Caleb had ever seen. Multicolored tieflings were not something new to Caleb. One of his other advisors was a bright blue tiefling with violet eyes. This person seemed to smile with his whole body. His coat had the symbols of every god one could fit on a piece of cloth. Caleb wondered for a moment if this person had taken a tapestry and worked it into a coat. It would be impressive if that was the case. 

“Ah, Your highness. My name is Mollymauk Tealeaf of Gustav’s traveling circus. We made good times on our travels and will arrive shortly.” The tiefling bowed, smile lines accentuating his grin. Beautiful art etched onto his skin like the ink were locked in an embrace with skin. 

A moment passed before Caleb could look away. 

“Welcome.” He gave The newcomer a shy smile. “I hope you enjoy your stay in our kingdom.” 

Molly tilted his head to the side, bowing to the king. He seemed to be trying to read him. Of course, he was littered with scars, probably from being run out of many towns. 

“It has been a while since this circus has been in this kingdom. Long before my time. Gustav himself spoke of how a king threatened death on any of us if we returned in his lifetime.” The tiefling picked himself up. 

“That king is dead,” Caleb announced. His voice was louder, more confident.

“Long live the king.” The tiefling replied back. 

“And what is your name, and your purpose of arriving ahead of your troupe,” Caleb asked. The tiefling was a guest, whether Ikithon would have allowed it or not. 

“Mollymauk Tiefling. I am here to secure a location, housing, and the such.” Mollymauk’s smile returned to his face. 

“My advisors can discuss such matters with you about location, but there is space here for more than one carnival on such grounds.” Caleb decided. It also made the castle seem more accessible, less of a looming figure. The half-orc took a step forward to escort Mollymauk out. 

“Thank you, your highness.” Mollymauk nodded towards him and was led out of the throne room. 

The tension in Caleb poured out of him. Mollymauk seemed to be everything Caleb himself couldn’t be. It was so alluring. Maybe the castle could be less lonely. 

“It’s ok to be attracted.” A voice rang out. It was thickly accented. 

“Jester.” Caleb turned his head to face his closest advisor. 

“He was hot. It’s fine that you noticed that.” Jester shrugged. 

“I almost don’t want him to leave.” Caleb leaned back. 

“So ask him on a walk around the courts, see if he’s interested.” Jester pulled Caleb to his feet. 

Caleb stood up and straightened his tunic. 

“Not in this, I will have to do this in more casual clothes.” Caleb blushed. An obvious attempt at stalling but not untrue. 

------

Mollymauk had been led to a guest room not too far from the crowned prince’s room. Molly frowned at the Lack of life that had littered the halls. The king seemed sad, lonely, in need of a friend. If Molly wanted to leave every place better than he found it, could he in good faith leave the prince- king, If Molly left with the others when they are planned to- to his own devices.

Molly sighed and shook his head. His bag was laid on the bed with respect as he was left to unpack. The door closed but there was no click of the lock. There were a few minutes of silence before there was a knock on the door. 

Molly opened the door and there stood the prince in casual wear and only a golden circlet on his head, accenting his reddish hair. 

“Hello, your highness.” Molly bowed and smiled. 

“No need to bow, I was just seeing how you were enjoying your room.” Caleb blushed. 

“It’s warm,” Molly admitted. There was a fire in the fireplace, so the temperature was warm, but there were no personalizations. So it was emotionally cold. 

“Oh. If you’re not too busy, I was wonder if you would like to walk around the courtyard, with me?” Caleb mumbled, hiding his mouth with his hand. 

“My prince if I didn’t know any better I would say that you were courting me.”  Molly smiled, trying not to laugh. The poor prince turned even redder. Molly almost felt bad for the prince. 

Caleb was silent. Oh. ok. This was new. 

Eventually, the prince spoke.

“Would there be an issue if I were?” Caleb asked, finally looking Molly in the eyes. Poor guy was scared. “I can back off if-”

Molly grabbed Caleb’s hand. “I would be honored to walk the courtyards with you, My Prince.” 

“You can call me Caleb.” the prince whispered. 

“Well then, you can call me Molly.” Mollymauk smiled at Caleb, who slowly returned the gesture.

[saphirered]

Can I request the Mighty Nein funding out the reader had been hiding a kinda injury

I hope it turned out the way you wanted it! Thanks for requesting 😘

(Caleb)

Caleb is no stranger to physical injury and has embraced his squishy wizard nature. You however have covered up many injuries in the past, letting them heal on their own as you always had before you had handy clerics around to fix you up. Old habits die hard and unlucky for you, when he’s not nose deep in a book Caleb will see right through your brave face act.

Upon finding out you’re injured Caleb would simply sit you down. He’ll take it upon himself to tend to your injury despite your best efforts to convince him you’re fine and it’s just a scratch. He knows better.

Silence. You’ve never managed to get a word out of the wizard when he’s caring for your ailment. He’s completely focussed but will listen to you talk so his silence is not rooted in concentration.

Caleb won’t mention your injury to anyone. It will be your little secret but you’ll be able to catch him staring at you, and when you meet his eye he’ll give you a little half smile; a nonverbal ask to see if you’re alright.

(Beau)

Training accidents happen but hardly ever exceed bruises. A sparring match gone wrong may have ended with you getting a bo-staff to the ribs with a little too much force but you play it cool. It’ll be fine. Just some bruises. You assure Beau you’ll sleep it off and it wasn’t that bad.

Beau’s not entirely convinced and definitely pries until you come clean. Persuasion isn’t Beau’s strong suit but she makes some solid arguments, and threats that leave you forced to reveal your secret.

Upon seeing the injury Beau will curse like a sailor, telling you you should have told her. Best not to mention the trouble breathing… Wether you want to or not she’ll go get the clerics to fix you up despite any and all protests.

Beau will keep grilling you for weeks, bringing your injury up as ammo in any argument she needs won and will keep a close eye out. She’ll refuse to spar with you but we all know Beau likes her training and with you being one of the very few actually able to keep up (sorry Fjord) she’ll give in and beg you to train with her again, this time more mindful of her actions.

(Fjord)

Fjord may play cool but he tends to be a worrywart and when he already has enough on his plate you be mindful not to stress him out by facing him with anything else. That includes you getting a pretty heavy hit from an enemy in combat.

Back on the ship you resign yourself to the lower deck and cargo hold duties as to stay clear of Fjord’s direct line of sight. You’d take the crows nest but an injured leg will do you no good climbing.

Bad weather and a leg injury at sea do not mix well and you, being slammed into the side of the ship unable to get back up sends Fjord in overdrive. He’ll help you below deck to a safe spot and prepare for basic care until one of the clerics can come fix you.

Fjord’s seen enough injuries; others’ and his own and knows well enough what you got didn’t come from your little tumble. He’ll be extra tentative but scold you for not saying anything and telling you you should tell him in the future.

Regardless of the clerics’ opinions he puts you on bedrest for the next few days until he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. Don’t count on being allowed to go up to the crow’s nest for a while though.

(Veth)

Having taken a tumble down the stairs while reading a book and conversing with Caleb (who you had to swear to secrecy) you deliberately stayed clear of Veth unless you had any sort of object to lean on to support yourself.

It’s more out of embarrassment you’re hiding this one even though your ankle hurts like a bitch. Every time you, Caleb and Veth are in the same room you’re sending the wizard death glares when he holds back a comment or laugh at your desperate attempts to keep this a secret.

Veth’s a mom and if there’s one thing moms are good at it’s figuring out when someone’s hurt. The moment your facade falls through, she’ll go into overdrive, pushing you to lay down on a couch or similar soft surface area, rushing to get you extra pillows and the likes.

Be prepared to have Veth hoover over you until you’re in the clear. She’ll do whatever she can to make you comfortable and brings you some trinkets to pass the time. Maybe don’t ask where she got them because they were definitely not in her previous possession.

(Jester)

It was gonna be an epic move! You’d jump down, weapon at the ready to stab down into the creature; death from above! Didn’t go as planned as you got swatted out of the air by the creature before you could strike down.

Luckily no one saw. After the battle you just claimed the plan fell through and you had to improvise. Meaning, you gritted through the pain of being rag-dolled into a cavern wall, got back up through the pain and back to battle.

If only Jester hadn’t asked you to help harvest the monster parts so you could sell them. You could barely carry your weapon, swinging it; different story. But Jester is persistent and you couldn’t just refuse the cute blue tiefling so you obliged gritting through the pain hoping no one would notice you taking a quick breather every so often.

Jester did notice and came to inspect your work, with a tap on your shoulder you feel a radiant warmth spread through you, making breathing and moving in general a lot easier. A thanks is in order and you’re sort of glad Jester keeps this on the down-low.

“Next time just tell me, okay?” Jester makes you pinky promise and you know that’s binding so you better keep your promise.

(Caduceus)

There’s a reason why you leave the cooking to Caduceus. You’ll happily cut some vegetables but try to stay away from anything else throughout the process of preparing food. When Caduceus asked you to watch the stove and add some spices to the food as he rushed to the pantry to get some more ingredients you were worried…

What should you do? Caduceus didn’t tell you how much to add of anything. Maybe you can just sniff the spices? Yeah, that sounds right. Opening the small jars and pouches one by one go through. You add a little of the fragrant ones and a bit more of the neutral spices.

One sniff of a red flaky powder sends you into a coughing fit, your airways burning like a blazing fire. Water doesn’t help. If anything it makes it worse. You get your breathing and cough under control but you do not trust your voice and scalding throat so when the firbolg returns you keep quiet.

No responses from you are a bit odd and what were you thinking you could keep anything from this man. Caduceus calls you out on your behaviour asking questions that need words and not nods, shakes, shrugs or the likes.

Upon you trying to talk he immediately knows what happened. Putting on a quick brew, in a short time you’re presented some tea to remedy your burning throat. It may not be your worst injury ever but it surely is an uncomfortable one. You gain a new appreciation for the dead people tea.

(Yasha)

You felt like you couldn’t do anything but try to hide the bleeding gash on your side, luckily covered by your clothing. Yasha had already gone through enough, last you needed her to deal with is the knowledge she injured you severely when under the control of someone else.

Back to normal you head into the next fight. For some reason you’re faltering and making mistakes you otherwise wouldn’t. Yasha notices and will be at your side in an instance to defend you but a single enemy blow sends you unconscious.

You can confidently say that opening your eyes to a raging barbarian pouring the contents of a healing potion down your throat is one of the most terrifying and admirable moment’s you’ve witnessed in your life.

Yasha asks when you got the cut since your bloodstained clothes don’t 100% add up. Tempted to come up with an excuse Yasha has you figured out. Prepare for endless apologies and a guardian angel watching over your shoulder threatening anyone with even remotely malicious intent into thinking twice about their actions.

(Mollymauk)

Molly will pretend he hasn’t noticed you’re hiding anything when he’s caught on you are being secretive. You’re entitled to your secrets.When he finds out you’re injured that’s no different. Unless it’s something that could be the death of you he’ll play along. You’re stubborn so you get to feel the consequences of your stubbornness.

He’d ask you to help him with this new routine he’s been working on or push you to spar with him. He’d make sure you have to pay extra mind as to not make it hurt as bad as your injury does when resting because that’s when the severity of your injury becomes clear to him.

Molly would deliberately make everyday tasks a little harder. You’re doing dishes? could you carry the heavy tub of water? Setting up camp? Keep pressure on this or hammer that into the ground. Will put your things out of your reach where you’d have to climb or jump to get them.

He’ll keep these shenanigans going until either you come clean about your injury or he really gets worried to the point he’ll have to step in for your own wellbeing. The former usually occurs leaving him smug and willing to carry you claiming to be your daring saviour.

Depending on the severity of the injury he’ll be a pretty decent caretaker spending time with you and assisting you whenever you need it. When it’s not as bad anymore he’ll be teasing you as much as he can. He won’t make you forget your stubbornness and pride gets in your way of admitting defeat and we all know he loves winning the game.