#thinking of. molly using blood magic to heal the rest of the nein

[dent-de-leon]

I do love that it’s cannon Lucien can use his Blood Hunter powers to heal, he’s just really bad at it. That’s so funny to me. Imagine being injured and just having a blood cleric with the worst bedside manner ever and also he can’t heal to save his life—

[grayintogreen]

WIP Wednesday

Since it's an off week for YCDHN, here's a little snippet from the next chapter!

“I did not think Lucien would do that again,” she finally said once Molly had lost sight of the dolphin entirely and the rest of its pod had abandoned the fishing boat with full bellies and confidence in their own immortality. Near the stern, Jester was climbing up some of the rigging to get a better look at them as they chased The Backbiter and Molly jerked away from watching her to gape at Cree, instead.

“Again? When did he have time to do it before?”

“Last night.” Cree ran a hand down her muzzle, her claws grazing her whiskers just enough to make her shudder. “He took over Chance.”

“How the hell did Chance even get your-“ Molly paused and Cree shot him a withering look.

“Don’t.”

He pressed his knuckles to his lips, but couldn’t successfully hide his smile. “Congratulations.”

“Shut up. Shut up.” She threw her hands up. “It was childish. It meant nothing and Chance did not deserve any of that! I should have mentioned it when I came in, but I was furious and exhausted and I did not think he would do it again so quickly- I did not think he would even have the opportunity! The blood prevents him from taking over any of us. That is how blood magic works.”

Molly could be grateful for that fact without having to comment on it, especially with how utterly lost she looked. “I should have known better. The Lucien I knew is so very much the Lucien I have now and yet I expect him to be better than this, to have learned anything after what was done to him.”

Molly, without concern for his safety given how an actively unhappy tabaxi had both claws and teeth to deter personal space violation, got right up on her and clasped her face in his hands. “Hey. Look at me. You didn’t change overnight either. Sure you’re less stubborn than he is, but we had to work on it.”

Cree didn’t pull away, but she didn’t relax either. “Do you think he can change, Mollymauk? Do you think either of you can truly find yourselves when the other one is right there to mock you?”

He tensed up. “I know who I am.” Or, at least, he knew who he wanted to be. He’d come a long way towards figuring his shit out and Lucien was starting at the ground floor- maybe a few inches beyond given how hard the Somnovem had beaten him. “It’s time he figured out who he is now that he has nothing.”

She finally pulled away from him. “Isn’t that the trouble? Lucien has always had nothing.”

“He had you. Don’t justify his shit decisions. He was the one who couldn’t be satisfied.” He was only repeating what she already knew, so he cringed and turned back to the rail and the endless ocean. “What do you want to do about him, Cree?”

She didn’t answer for such a long time that he was concerned she had just walked away entirely, but when he glanced to the side, she was still standing there, her head down. “I want him to grow the way I did. Despite everything, he still means so much to me… But if he cannot grow then I know that he will keep me from growing. I do not want him to become a cancer to me, Mollymauk, but…” She bared her teeth. “I hate him so much right now. He can’t even allow himself to break, much less heal. He is just chasing another opportunity- another net. Anything to avoid facing that there’s other ways if he will only work for them.”

She looked up at him, then, her golden eyes watery and when she spoke, it came out small and choked. “There are nine of us, Mollymauk. Do you think that’s enough to remove him from this madness, rather than just allow him to continue it in a different form?”

He didn’t have an answer to that. Lucien was proud and stubborn and had an agenda that only aligned with the Nein’s on a technicality. They couldn’t trust him not to try and run off if he found something better. They couldn’t trust him at all and doing so might cost them.

But to not trust him meant giving into the idea that he couldn’t be changed, which concerned Molly on two levels. If Lucien couldn’t be changed, did that mean he would reach a point and stagnate as well? Were they only ever going to be fully realized people if they came together as one?

He shuddered at the thought. No. Lucien could change. If he was going to have to deal with him, he was going to become a better fucking person or else Molly might go mad from not having a way to escape from him.

To Cree, he just said, “Whether he likes it or not, it took nine people to break him. Maybe it’ll take nine people to put the fucker back together again.”

[sockablock]

hey are requests still open bc I am still FULLY CRYING about Molly coming back to life holy SHIT. I have a thing I want to request and that’s Molly having to come to terms with whatever changes his body went through - new blood hunter abilities, longer hair, the much larger scar from Lucien’s v gory death - after he comes back to life.

Molly doesn’t ask what happened to Nott. He doesn’t ask them where they are. He doesn’t even ask who Essek is, and only gives Caduceus a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning away and wandering off.

His feet are bare on the soft teal grass. This time of year in the Blooming Grove, faint glowing insects hover around his ankles. The leaves of the old blue wisteria trees hang like a sheet across the sky. He is wrapped in a cloak of quiet moonlight, grey on the graves as he passes by.

Eventually, he comes to a lone headstone. It is long, and flat, and smooth. He sits down.

If he is different in any way, nobody says. It’s taken him a few days to find his words again, and it’s clear that his memories are still trickling back. Veth had joked that he used to be more entertaining, but they all know that his returning in any capacity is already nothing short of a miracle. To the Mighty Nein, he is still as miraculous as before.

To himself—to Mollymauk, he thinks he’s a bit leaner. He’d never really been one for rigorous training—not aside from what it took to throw a sword and catch it—and yet, this body seems hardened, now. It’s still a bit sore in some inconvenient places, and the tall one, Caduceus, mentioned that he shouldn’t do anything too strenuous to avoid opening his scar. This newest mark runs like a seam down his shoulder to his navel, making the rest of his scars look like paper cuts. He isn’t exactly sure how to feel about that, yet. Beau offered to help him design a tattoo to cover it, and he isn’t sure how to feel about that yet, either.

A faint breeze runs through the Grove, tousling his hair. It’s longer now, and Molly might have liked that more if he’d been around to enjoy it. He suspects that he might have been, in one way or another, though not nearly present enough to make the executive choices. Otherwise, he might have tried braids. Maybe hair dye. Not  only that, but the...what had Caleb called him? The “previous occupant” had taken off Molly’s horn charms and necklaces. For the second-life of him, Molly can’t remember if he’d kept them. He can’t remember much about the last ten months—which might be alright. He doesn’t know if he wants to.

(He does remember some things, though. He remembers taking his shirt off the first night at the Grove and seeing the other scar left behind. It is closed now, and healed well over with blood magic, but when Molly reaches up and traces it down, he can feel how the cut drips into his abdomen. He remembers how it felt to have the blood pouring over, to boil with fury and die of shock, under the stars.)

He looks at them now. They haven’t changed a bit.

Another wind kicks up. Molly isn’t sure exactly what time of year it is, but he shivers. The Clays are kind, but the whole family towers over Molly, so their spare clothes fit him poorly. Firbolgs are also—well, furred—and Molly suspects that this borrowed tunic is on the thin side. His tail curls inward as he realizes he’s going to sneeze. He feels his muscles tense, he breathes in—

And suddenly, something warm is draped across his shoulders. He glances up.

“Oh. Yasha?“ His voice is strained. It feels as if Molly hasn’t spoken in a year, but at the same time, he feels like his throat is worn. Almost like he’s been giving frequent speeches with wild abandon. Now that he’s had some time to recover, the combined effect sounds like someone trying to remember how to talk, but only being allowed to do it through a rusty pipe.

“Come to join me in my musings?” he still says, stubbornly.

“She’s not the only one. ‘Sup.”

Molly doesn’t have to turn to know that Beauregard has walked into the rows of graves just behind Yasha. The two of them have been pretty attached to each other lately, except for when Yasha comes to check on Molly. The strongest part of him, the part that hung on the longest, is privately quite pleased by this.

“And you’ve given me your cloak.” He grins, but just at Yasha. “How kind of you, my dear.”

Okay, so not that privately.

“I was worried you’d be cold,” Yasha says, concern endearing. “Sorry your old coat wasn’t doing better. Jester says she can probably Mend it, or try to paint you a new one—“

Molly waves his hand. “No, no need, dear. I should do it. It’ll give me a thing to work on.”

Yasha nods. “I’ll let her know.”

Distantly, Molly can hear footsteps approaching. He counts four, maybe five pairs, if one of them is lighter. After a moment, there’s the sigh of cloth, and six pairs are walking.

Movement joins Molly on the headstone. He turns, and now Beau is seated beside him. Yasha stands like a guardian at his back.

Both of them are much, much wearier, Molly notices. Even though it’s been less than a year since his “death,” Beau is riddled with new scars from combat, and Yasha’s tattoos have gotten much bolder. Oddly, that’s reassuring.There’s something in the fact that Molly’s body changed, but theirs did too. And even if he can’t remember it, that’s something they have in common.

On the other hand, though, it makes him feel...he shakes his head. He gazes outward.

He asks, “Why did you follow me, then?”

Beau responds first. She does so with a snort. “Of course we’d follow you, you idiot. You were our friend—or...okay, technically, at the time you’re actually a crazy cult leader—“

“No, I meant—“

She cuts him off. “Right, yeah, details. Not important. Listen, it...it was a whole long thing, and it was complicated, but the important part is that we really, just really wanted you back. That’s why we did any of it. All of it. And why nothing could stop us.”

“Not even me?”

“Hell, no. Since when could you stop me?”

Molly chuckles at that. He glances at Yasha. “Is that true?”

“Which part?” she says. Then she says, “Yes. It is.”

He matches the tiny smile on her face. Then he turns back to stare at the woods past the graveyard while behind him, the rest of the Mighty Nein come to a halt.

His smile widens. “What I was actually trying to ask, though, is why you all followed me here. Just now. I thought you were going to prepare for dinner?”

“My parents took over,” Caduceus says. “They told us to take a break.”

“Besides!” With a burst of jewelry and her flouncing skirts, Jester squeezes onto the other end of Molly’s headstone. “We wanted to spend more with you!”

“Now that you’re interesting again,” adds Nott, taking a seat at the base of the stone with Fjord. He reaches up to wink at Molly, “Hey, roomie.”

“I thought I should get to know you as well,” says the new voice. Molly remembers that his name is Essek. “We, ah...we are both purple, so that is something we already have in common.”

Molly laughs at that. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Caleb. “It’s like there are two of you now. Like your shadow. Or a duplicate.”

“I am still the funny one,” Caleb says. “I plan on defending that title. Even from you.”

Molly laughs again, and this time, he does turn. He can see that the whole group have gathered around him now, sitting beside him, standing behind him, in the grass.

They are all so tired. They are all much stronger. Molly has gathered from the scars on their bodies—as well as from the scars on his own—just how powerful they must be now. He knows that he isn’t the same, either. Sometimes his blood feels like its boiling. Sometimes he is moving, and he can swear that it’s through snow.

But the Mighty Nein are here. There are nine of them, now. And that, he thinks, in and of itself, must be a miracle. And as he looks at them now, drinking their presence in, he thinks...

Maybe some things haven’t changed, after all.

—

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[failedskillcheck]

Change with the Tides (Part 1/??)

A/N: Hiya! This is a little thing that I wanted to write, where the reader is a changeling wizard/rouge working for the Gentleman and joins the Mighty Nein! This takes place around 2x14-2x16. I’ll probably write it for the whole campaign.

You grew up in the various orphanages of Wildemont, starting in Port Damali, then Alfeild, Nogvurot, Trostenwald, Rexxentrum, and Deastock, eventually ending up in Zadash.

Due to your race, people found it hard to trust you. You didn’t really blame them, you had been picking pockets since you were seven. In Alfeild, you managed to steal a few spellbooks off of a traveller and began teaching yourself magic. Mostly Illusion spells, but you got your hand on some water-based magic as well.

When you grew out of the system, you were in Zadash, so you went about looking for the Gentleman. By the time you were 23, you had a secure career with him.

That is until a group barged into the underground bar, a strange collection of individuals calling themselves the Mighty Nein… but there were only seven.

From your seat at the bar, you couldn’t see them. You subtly put up your usual disguise, a human woman with brown hair and dark eyes, except you keep the hair a platinum blonde, the closest colour to your true form.

Cree noted one of the adventurers, a purple teifling she called Lucien. The man was a literal peacock. In fact, you’re pretty sure you saw a peacock tattoo creeping up his neck. You noted the others. An aloof half-orc, an energetic blue teifling, a massive woman who could probably crush you, a human woman in Cobalt Soul blue, and a human man in dirty brown clothing, sticking close to a small goblin. The goblin surprised you. You were all too aware of what people thought of monstrous races like hers.

The group went to the Gentlemans’ table, and you snickered, sipping on your drink. Then, Clive comes over and leans over the bar, “He needs you.” You sigh, down the rest of your drink, and walk over to the table, knowing that the drink will be paid off later.

“What’s up Boss?” You say as you reach the table, grabbing the chair closest to him. You’re his best employee. He knows that, everyone here knows that. There’s very little you can’t get away with.

“Ah, Y/N. Meet the Mighty Nein. You may recognize those two,” he gestures to the purple teifling and the monk, “as the two who murdered the High-Rictor. They’ve agreed to do me a favour, in exchange for me clearing their names.”

“So you’re the sorry sods he’s making go to that blasted facility,” you turned your head to the Gentleman, “Let me guess, I’m going with them?”

“You are the one who found it.”

“So when do we leave?” You asked, looking back at the group, who all seemed to be talking to one another. All of them except for the half-orc, who was instead watching you.

“Tomorrow, we need to prepare first.”

The Gentleman waved you off, and you went to your bed in the upper part of the Evening Nip, then preparing some things for your mission tomorrow. You went down to the bar, waiting for the Mighty Nein.

They finally arrived, and they were blindfolded and escorted to a dock, where you parted ways with you’re colleagues and rowed down the river with the Mighty Nein. You led them down the river, not talking and very aware that the half-orc and the monk were watching you. The Nein then decides to pull a race, and the goblin uses her ring of water walking. Until she hits a rock.

As she’s being pulled into the boat, you see a dark mantle drop, wrapping around her head, as well as the man and the half-orc. Luckily, you’re able to defeat them with almost no injuries.

“Those weren’t there before, I swear.” You say as the monk woman accuses you of trying to kill them. As she’s yelling at you, she stops and urges everyone to go faster due to rock monsters.

You drift downward before docking and sitting on the gravel beach as the large woman and blue teifling clear the rockslide.

“Mind telling us your name?” the half-orc asks, sitting beside you,

“Y/N,” you say, looking over, “And no, no last name. What about you?”

“I’m Fjord,” he says, then points to his party, “That there’s Beauregard and Jester. Then Mollymauk and Yasha. Those two are Caleb and Nott.” He pointed to where the goblin was braiding flowers into the man’s hair.

“Right. Apologies for the cave-in, when I first discovered this place, my group got attacked, one of them decide to destroy the wall.”

“Not a problem Y/N!” says Jester, clearing away the last rocks, “See, already cleared”

Mollymauk walks over and offers you his hand to helo you get up, as he does, he pulls you close to whisper in your ear, “Do you have any clue who I was?”

Was. Interesting choice of words, Mr. Mollymauk. “No, Cree seemed to though. So whatever little gang you two were in, I certainly wasn’t a member.”

“Something tells me there’s more to you than meets the eye Y/N, and I for one, am interested to find out what.”

Mollymauk back off at my shocked expression, walking away before saying over his shoulder, “And it’s just Molly, dear.”

We go down the stairs, through many trapped rooms (which Nott kept forgetting to check, leaving you to pick up her slack), Fjord almost falls down a pit, before finally reaching a large chamber.

The first thing you notice in the room is a teleportation circle, though it’s broken. You tell this to the Nein, which makes Caleb give you a quizzical look “And how do you know what a broken teleportation circle looks like?”

“I may be nothing more than a thief, but I am somewhat educated.”

You all begin searching around, and eventually, Caleb finds a journal written in Draconic. As you discuss it, the temperature drops and a skeletal form stretches from the group, ghastly skin stretched over its face.

“My secrets are yours.”

After that, you and the Nein launch into battle, and shockingly, you all fight very well together, working in sync.

You watched Jester sink to the ground, your own head pounding from the mental attacks. Molly charged at the undead Siff Dunder, and you shouted “Finish this Mollymauk!” as you ran towards Jester, giving her a healing potion you kept in your pocket.

The temperature drops again, cold energy emerging from a bookshelf. You can physically see Caleb remembering something, his eyes lighting. He mentions a physical form, like will o’ wisps and you swear under your breath as a series of attacks knocks Yasha unconscious. Jester is by her side instantly, healing her, before she and Beauregard pull down the bookshelf.

A large urn stands amongst pots and small cases, and Molly reaches through and destroys the urn. Siff, who was just attacking you and Fjord as you tried to distract it, disintegrates, and you both breathe a sigh of relief.

You all take a bit of time to collect yourself, and Fjord once again sits beside you, “Alright, I need to know. Why no last name?”

“Never got one.” You said, drinking from your waterskin and checking for any injuries.

“Orphan?”

“Yeah”

You notice a flash of something like sympathy on his face, and but in “I don’t need your pity. I’m perfectly fine without parents.”

“I was gonna say me too.”

You look at Fjord, “Right, sorry.”

Fjord looks like he’s about to ask another question, but you’re interrupted by Nott rubbing oil on herself and squeezing through the hole. Yasha just breaks the wall.

Why was that hot? You think to yourself

You see Nott bent over a case with her thieves tools out, trying to open a lock. Two minutes pass and you hear a gas leak and repeated coughing. “Poison,” she croaks, handing out the jewelry she found, even handing you a piece.

Beauregard searches through the urns, finding a spellbook, which she gives to Caleb. He traces some pattern in the air and finishes the spell, looking around the room. Your back is turned, but he gives you a look, nodding at Beau. You’re definitely hiding abilities other than the rouge ones you’ve displayed.

He points out a sword called the Magicians Judge, which Yasha takes. Molly, Jester, Fjord, and Beau leave to investigate further down the river, while you make camp with Caleb and Nott.

“You know magic,” Caleb says after a long stretch of silence. “How?”

A simple question, but you were reluctant to answer, Fjord already knows too much about you. “I stole some books off of a travelling wizard when I was 15. I was going to sell them, but they seemed interesting, so I taught myself.”

“How old are you?” Nott asked in between sips of her flask.

“23.” You answer, resting your head on your bag.

“What spells do you know?”

“Just a few illusions. Makes thievin’ easier.”

The interrogation seemed to stop then, and a few minutes later, the others return, and you all fall asleep.

You dream of being chased through Alfeild after stealing the books. You ran and ran, jumping on carriages until you deemed yourself far enough away. Late nights of learning magic, trying to get a hold on precious components with no money. Slowly learning.

When you woke up, you realized you shouldn’t have slept around strangers, your true form peeking through. You shift slowly back, keeping your cloak wrapped around you.

“Fjord, you have a little something right here.” Jester says, pointing out the dried blood on the corner of his mouth.”

“Oh, yeah, I grind my teeth,” Fjord explains blushing slightly as he wipes it. As he does you notice his tusks are shorter than other half-orcs you’ve seen.

Jester notices it too and starts questioning him about them. Fjord gets nervous and says “When I was younger, they used to make fun of my teeth, so I got rid of the target.”

“The kids at the orphanage?” You ground out, all too familiar with asshole kids

“Yeah, it just kinda became a habit.”

“Did you ever kill them?” Yasha asked, looking very serious,

Nott quickly became concerned “Yasha. Have you ever killed a kid?”

No answer.

Immediately, the Mighty Nein promised that if he grew them out they’d support him. You had a moment then. These people hadn’t known each other long, minus a couple of obvious pairings, but you could tell they were good people. Certainly better than the Gentleman’s goons.

You all make your way up to the Gentleman’s lair, keeping quiet. You’re lost in thought, right up until you take the blindfold off of the Nein. You pull Fjord aside before he gets to the Gentleman.

“I still have to talk to the Boss about it, but would it be alright if I maybe tagged along with you guys for a bit? You seem like good people, and I think I need a change of company.”

“I’d have to talk to the other, but I don’t have a problem with it. You’re a good fighter Y/N, we could definitely use you.”

You nod and wait for the Mighty Nein to finish the meeting with the Gentleman before you sit down with him.

“Hey, Boss?” You say, waiting for permission to speak, “I was thinking, I might try travelling around a bit. I’ve never been good at staying in one place, you know my past. And those Migh-”

The Gentleman held up a hand, and you felt the entire bar fall silent. He was going to say no, you knew it.

“Y/N, you’ve been my best employee for the last several years. Your talents are unmatchable, and I don’t think I’ll ever find a replacement. But I get it. A change of pace is always needed. Go pack up your things, and don’t worry about your bar tab, I’ll pay.” He slid a pouch of gold across the table, “Here’s a little something to start you off.”

Holy shit.

“Thank you, sir.”

The Gentleman nodded, and you ran to pack your things. Fjord said something about the Leaky Tap, so you headed over. Right away, Jester threw her arms around you.

“Welcome to the Mighty Nein!”

[omniscientwreck]

To Belong

Alright here’s some hurt/comfort as requested. Canon divergence where Caleb wasn’t able to dispel Gaudius’ hold on Essek. 

One of Lucien’s many eyes looks toward him and everything slows. Warmth seeps in through his pores, sinking in through skin going straight to his head. He hears their call and for a moment he resists but, why would he? 

He’s never belonged. He didn’t belong in Roshona, surrounded by religious zealots blinded by the comfort that comes with trust. Incurious, simple minded fools. He didn’t even belong with the Nein, not really. None of them trust him, he’s been eclipsed by his sins and nothing can break through to them. 

He needs a blank slate, if he is to belong anywhere he has to be able to start over completely. That is what Gaudius offers, a new beginning, no judgement, no proving himself. He doesn’t have to work for their acceptance and love fills his heart. The Somnovum will take him as he is and there’s never anything he’s wanted more.

Everything is clearer now, these people were never in it for him. He drags his hands, beginning to pull at the strands of gravity as Lucien fills his mind with the power he can achieve once he’s one with them. When he joins the city.

The human lifts his hand to cast at him and without even thinking he waves his hand to counter the spell. “Essek no!” The blue tiefling looks horrified, feigning care even now. 

He curls his fingers in, pooling gravity and thrusts his hands forward, centering the darkness on the wizard who’s toyed with him for nearly a year. The effect isn’t immediate but it will pay off, he’s sure and those caught inside, the humans, the clerics, the angel, the halfling will feel it’s effects soon enough. 

The firbolg is the first. He hasn’t taken much damage but this seems to get to him. As Essek’s fingers clench he crumples like paper and Essek squeezes before releasing. He flies as far as he can but it isn’t far enough. More will come. 

Up next, he feels the thief resisting, she’s strong and muscles through but it’s not pretty. Her form stretches briefly as he pulls and stretches with two hands before snapping back into place and he’s sure she cries for the wizard who cannot hear or see her. Something twinges in the back of his mind but Lucien calls out again and he remembers the family waiting for him. 

The monk tries to appeal to him through her newfound abilities, she seems to be able to see through the darkness. She tries her hardest to reach some part of him still foolish enough to turn away from happiness and towards them, he hardly listens. She moves to run out of his grasp but just before she can make it he grabs hold and twists. Her body contorts and he can almost feel her crumble away, but she gains control and she just barely breaks out of his grasp. 

He feels Caleb try to resist but his efforts just aren’t enough. He looks Essek directly in the eyes, and he hears whispers of the wizard’s voice try to get through to him, “You must break free, we need more time”. Essek’s face stretches into a wicked grin at this obvious manipulation tactic (I will show you belonging the way he couldn’t bear to) as he twists his wrist and pulls down, compressing the body in front of him. The wizard nearly leaves his influence but he’ll have another chance to take him down. 

The angel didn’t stand a chance. She can’t resist the pull of his gravity and even if she could scream the monk’s name she wouldn’t be able to see her or save her. As he finishes with her his mind drifts back to memory, spurred by the wizard’s sweet words. We need more time. It will take time. You were not born with venom in your veins. Something snaps in the back of his mind and the Nonagon’s whispers turn to acid in his mind. He can see properly, he drops the spell and turns to Lucien, screaming as he turns on the beast with nine eyes, unleashing a torrent of inky black lightning, hitting him square in the chest. 

-------

The battle is over and by some strange grace they’re all alive. The Nein are both celebrating and consoling each other. In the end they appealed to Molly and, for the second time, he was his own undoing. 

It feels like intruding to be there, he who has done another irrevocable deed. He would leave immediately if he still had the energy but that effort is insurmountable. Caduceus had gotten them back to their own plane and they’re resting in an open field, surrounded by Caleb’s alarm spell, taking turns at watch. None of them are quite ready to be around their loved ones quite yet, needing one more night together as a family before dealing with the gravity of what they’ve accomplished. 

Fjord holds Jester, keeping an eye on the horizon and whispering comfort as she silently cries into his shoulder. Beau and Yasha are curled together trying to sleep, Caleb has Frumpkin around his shoulders and Veth is curled into his side, Caduceus’ legs overlapping with Fjord’s in the tight space. There’s hardly room for Essek to sit in this small circle of sombre camaraderie, and the emotions of his travelling companions are simply too much for him so he stands to put some distance between them. Just for a moment. Just so he doesn’t have to look them in the eyes.

He stands, knees cracking and makes his way out to he open field. Nobody seems disturbed, none of them react and nobody calls after him. In the night air he’s met with stars and silence, the night sky used to comfort him. Now it’s a void he could be swallowed in and with the way he feels right now, he wishes it would. 

His hair is coated with somebody’s blood, his body is battered and bruised and his spirit is shattered. They’d taken him along to help, they’d allowed him such an important opportunity to redeem himself and he’d nearly killed them. He’d made it far easier for Lucien to knock them down, luckily Caduceus and Jester had been focused and able to heal quickly enough. He’d ended up being a burden and once again a traitor. 

“Essek.” He hears his name, a warning so he isn’t startled. Caleb’s voice drifts on the breeze, “Are you alright?” 

He sighs, letting his head fall and squeezing his eyes shut. “No.”

“Let’s sit.” 

He obliges, silent, waiting for Caleb to set the tone. 

“You need to know we do not blame you for what happened. Yasha turned too, these things are not our fault.” 

He can’t bare to look over but he does anyway. Caleb’s eyes shine with worry, furrowed brow pulling creases into his forehead. “It could have turned out so badly Caleb. That magic, it’s made to kill. You are all very lucky for your ability to escape and my comparative lack of experience in battle. I could have turned you to dust.” 

Caleb sighs, “Guilt over hypotheticals is a waste of your time and energy. You could have, but you didn’t. We’re all still here, and we wouldn’t be without you. Don’t let yourself fall into the trap of comfortable self-loathing, you’ll waste years.” 

“You couldn’t understand Caleb, I was convinced. I didn’t even want to resist. It was only-” he pauses on the brink of the confession and decides to throw caution to the wind, “It was only you that brought me back. My mind wasn’t my own, I was imprisoned and lied to and I was stupid enough to believe it.” 

“I understand more than you know.” He looks instantly older, Essek has frequently wondered what Trent had done to Caleb to take such a bright and excellent man with so much kindness in his heart, and turn him hard. “I have been deceived, lied to, it lead to my worst moments. I’ve told you we are not so different and it’s clearer now more than ever. If there is redemption for me, as I’ve been assured many times there will be, you will find yours.” 

Essek shakes his head, “It would have been nobler for me to die for the world than to continue this pathetic existence. It would have been a just end, poetic and balanced. Now there’s so much unresolved I don’t know where to start or where to go.” 

Caleb’s hand covers his on the grass, “Well, we can start by researching, it’s what we do best. Everyone else has someone to go to, family to see, something to go back to. I only have forward momentum, more to learn and see. You could join me, we can go back to Aeor and see what comes.” 

Essek nods, “I do not deserve that but because I am a selfish creature I accept your offer.” 

Caleb squeezes his hand and he looks up again, into his eyes, “It does not matter what you think you deserve. You are not the decider of what I offer you.” He has a fierce look about him, he may have hit a nerve, “Trust that I know what I want and when I say I want you with me it’s not out of pity or some savior complex. Let me offer you this and quell any self-pity or doubt. I’m not obligated to like you or want to be around you, but I do because I like you Essek. I think it should be plain by now that I like you a great deal and I hope that you will come along with me, to see where this leads us.” 

Despite himself, Essek turns his hand over under Caleb’s and tentatively laces their fingers together. He’s seen him do similar things with the Nein and when Caleb doesn’t flinch he relaxes a bit. “I will trust you in this. I am also quite fond of you. Thank-you, for your words. For your trust. One day I hope to feel worthy of such a gift.” 

Caleb squeezes his hand and leads him back to the tent where they sit side by side wordlessly before falling asleep, still holding hands.

[dndestinies]

//i’m gonna post some kaislynn/molly headcanons bc it’s my blog and no one can stop me

he’s probably what convinces her to leave trostenwald (not bc INSTANT CRUSH, more like actually talking her into getting out of comfort zone)

gets her out of her shell in general, tries to get her into shenanigans (and probably succeeds) and to open up to casual friendly physical affection (which would be VERY slow going)

they bond over being weird despite having totally opposite temperaments/being an introvert & extrovert to extremes, trusts him more than most of the group early on since he seems to have the least amount of ulterior motives (other than jester and yasha probably). might teach him (and yasha!) about plants & flowers since she’d be the ONLY PERSON IN THE PARTY WITH ANY NATURE PROFICIENCY, and would let him play with Juno in ferret form when he needs something to do

molly probably knows she has a crush once it sets in tbh, she’s not good at subtlety or even lying lmao. might even catch her doodling him in her sketchbook. is both a teasing bastard but also kind about it at the same time.

she doesnt have a card before he gets lorenzo’d, but his nickname for her is ‘sunflower’ (i stole that from either a reader insert fic on ao3 or a thing on tumblr?? i forget but i LOVE it)

doesnt trust cree IMMEDIATELY because of the blood magic more than anything, but also seeing something making molly visibly uncomfortable is so out there that it’s a red flag

in werebear au, she first transforms in front of the nein when lorenzo was about the kill him; i’m thinking her silver cuff bracelet is how she keeps herself in control most of the time, and she just casually takes it off and bears out when she sees molly about to die (and by casually i mean consumed by RAGE)

i think werebear works well for a molly lives au, cause a huge ass werebear charging at you might’ve been enough to get lorenzo to at least get away from molly long enough for her to heal him and scold the shit outta him (while still transformed, bc it would be funny)

in canon au, some weird feywild-y shit happens after he dies akin to yasha’s wing bustin’ out. maybe weird eye shit or shadows bleeding off her body as she’s grieving, idk! think dark fey-type stuff

would probably want to take his coat with them, but unless they actually were a thing beforehand she would let the rest of the nein decide what to do with his things. i cant remember if he had anything moonweaver-related, but she’d probably take that as her memento. would probably ask jester if she could help collaborate on his deck sometimes

she probably gets really clingy to caduceus (as much as he’d be comfortable with at least), as he’s just such a soothing presence to everyone while they’re grieving, and they can also bond over nature & the wildmother. eventually might worry that she’s using him as a replacement for molly and back off for a while til they talk about it. either way they probably end up as besties/platonic somethings in both molly aus

after finding molly’s empty grave, she’d be keeping his coat for the time being. it’s a blanket now.

oh god she would have such i-hate-him-but-he’s-hot feelings about lucien you don’t wanna know; if he caught on to her feelings for the ‘sliver’ and teased her about it she would probably actually punch his stupid face. like i said she’s not good at subtlety

at molly’s second ressurection? she’s crying, can’t even look at his fucked up body until the group’s started the ritual. i have no idea if her help would’ve made a difference in the first try, druid magic and all that, but either way she’d be making him promise to thank the Wildmother later

he notices her last, as her legs are too weak to get up while she’s watching him go through the nein and remembering his deck. as soon as he’s said the word ‘sunflower’, since no card, she’s running at him and practically knocking his ass over with the force of the hug. big passionate smooch if they were together, but definitely getting tears all over him. probably the only time she doesn’t get all flustered around a naked person

she’s watching him like a hawk once they’re back at the grove, mostly because she’s just so happy and relieved that he’s okay. she skips out on the team meeting to keep an eye on him, and is still out there when he curls up and falls asleep.

does not let jester do greater restoration if she can help it; they have NO idea how this process works, and messing with it could be a bad idea! no touch!!

if her and molly actually end up together, they end up moving (semi-permanently bc molly can’t possibly stay in one place) to nicodranas, bc you know the beach life eventually grew on kaislynn, but she also tree walks to the blooming grove regularly

if kingsley.... wellp she’s gonna be real sad about it but she also wants him to be happy, so she’s just gonna keep her memories close and try to become a better liar

[peach-the-owl]

Or something with the Cree trying to get rid of the child because she see's how they trigger memory's and want to stop it. But Lucien protects them saying how he needs them.

The Anomaly

Child of the Nein (Lucien & Child!Reader)

You genuinely had a hard time figuring out if what you were doing was worth it or not, the Tombtakers weren’t what you’d call "good people" and yet for some reason or another you just couldn’t bring yourself to abandon them. Perhaps it was your childish ignorance at the hope that maybe, just maybe there was a chance you could appeal to Lucien’s better nature or that a sliver of Molly was still in there somewhere. After all it was quite obvious Lucien had grown attached to you, not to mention he could, at times, recall very faint, blurred memories that belonged to Molly, all of which you were involved in. However you weren’t the only one to notice these little moments, a certain tabaxi was also catching on and was starting to perceive you as more of a threat because of it.

Moving ever closer in on the supposed end goal, you were met with an explosive greeting when entering the ruins of Aeor, something that could’ve easily killed you was shielded by Lucien taking the hit for you. You still took some damage and were left with a ringing in your ears as you look around to see Otis, Tyffial, and Zoran all unconscious, Cree badly damaged by the blow and despite Lucien taking most of the hit he was unaffected. Voices came out muffled over the sound of your fast beating heart, tuning out everything as you try and calm yourself from the near death experience. Looking over you can see a few looks of guilt aimed at you by the Nein, so wrapped up in their plans they’d most likely forgotten your presents, even catching sight of Essek with them who looked generally shocked to see you in the first place. You don’t have time to dwell on the matter long as you’re suddenly teleported to another location and on the move, coming back to your senses just in time to feel the effects of a magical quake shake through the area while making your way deeper into the ruins.

"Are ye alright?" Lucien asks kneeling next to you, taking a moment to catch your breaths.

"Ummm, yeah I-I think so." You reply, shaking yourself back into reality again. "Are you okay?" You already knew the answer to the question but just let the words slip out anyways.

"Perfectly fine." He gives you a side smile.

"Of course he’s fine, he’s untouchable." Cree huffs under her breath, though you still catch it. The three of you travel deeper into the ruins, fighting off any creatures that get in the way, Cree and Lucien doing most of the work while you stayed more to the sidelines as support. Finally you find a place to stop and rest taking some time to heal and bandage up your wounds while they conversed with each other. You zone them out as you look yourself over, at this point you now had 6 of those red eyes on you, still not fully sure what each of them do aside from now having darkvision. Those dreams where still present too, always welcoming you, always offering great knowledge and power. The power part you didn’t really need or care much for, but knowledge was a handy thing, however you tried not to fall too deep into their possible false promises. Things were so complicated now and it was hard and exhausting for you to deal with all of this because let’s be real here you were just a kid, you didn’t ask for all this, you just wanted to live a simple, happy, fun filled life with your friends… Who were you kidding, your life was never simple, happy and fun filled at times, yes, but never simple.

"I’ll take watch, you two rest up." Lucien's words pull you away from your thoughts you look up and watch him walk off to patrol the area, leaving you alone with Cree. You try to settle down but the hard stare from the tabaxi was not helping things and you end up staring back.

"Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing." She says with a low growl. Your brows furrow in confusion at her.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m not really doing anything." You reply, hoping to move away from whatever was happening here.

"Playing stupid isn’t going to work either, I know you’re a cunning one when you want to be." Sure she had a point, you could be quite the little charmer and deceiver but what did that have to do with your current situation? She suddenly pounces on you, one hand grabbing your neck, claws slightly digging into you, making you let out a small yelp.

"What's going on? What are you doing?" You weren’t really thinking, just letting words tumble out in fear and confusion.

"I should’ve gotten rid of you when I first had the chance, but I let you stay thinking you couldn’t do anything to harm our mission. I see now how wrong I was in assuming your presents wouldn’t affect Lucien like you have, placing that imposters memories into his mind! Once he sees how much of an infection you were he’ll be thankful." She sneers, her grip tightening around you as magic sparks to life in her free hand. Every joint in your body erupts in pain, like your blood was being moved in all the wrong directions as Cree holds her focus on you. Unable to move you let out a cry at the feeling of being split apart, then it stops, her weight on you disappears, the pain still lingers but is mostly gone. Slowly, hesitantly you crack open your eyes to see Cree partly sprawled on the ground, like she’d been thrown off of you and looking up nervously. You follow her gaze, landing on Lucien who steps in front of you like a barrier, and while you couldn’t see his face his menacing stance told enough as he then stalks over to the tabaxi.

"Cree." His voice comes out as a growl, while closing in on her. She scrambles to her feet, holding her arms out in defence.

"My Nonagon, please if you would just listen-" She’s cut off by Lucien grabbing hold on the collar of her coat and harshly slamming her up against the wall.

"You are treading very thin ice right now. If I were you I’d choose my next words carefully." His voice comes out as a hiss as he holds an intense stare on her. Cree takes a second to find her words before speaking.

"This child is an anomaly and they’re jeopardizing our goals, don’t you see it? They were originally with that imposter and yet you openly welcomed them. You'd rather save their life then the others, they don’t even serve a purpose! All this child's done is play a few measly songs. They’re messing with your head, and are nothing but trouble you have to believe me!" She explains, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. You never liked how they’d refer to Molly as some "imposter" but knew better then to speak up about it in this tense situation.

"Jeopardizing?" Lucien raises a questioning eyebrow at the word before letting out a low chuckle. "I can’t believe ya feel threatened by them. They have their purpose for being here just as much as you. They haven’t slowed us down either, it’s their rowdy friends that have been the largest obstacle to our plans."

"That’s the other thing, they're friends with those people, shouldn’t that be a sign of trouble?" As much as Cree tried to show confidence, she was shaking, especially when Lucien narrows his eyes at her.

"If anythin', yer the one losing sight to our goal, best get yerself back on track." He lets go of Cree causing her to slid down the wall a small ways before catching herself.

"Why keep them around? What’s their purpose? I have to know!" She blurts out without thinking, covering her mouth in self shock once Lucien gives her a pointed glare.

"You wanna know so badly, do ya?" He lets a sigh. "Fine. For yer sake think of it like this; every ruler needs an heir, every god an avatar." He pauses, giving you a chance to also let this information sink in, thoughts flooding your head trying to figure out if there was more meaning behind this. Cree also seemed to be having a hard time wrapping her head around what was said to her, she opens her mouth to say something but Lucien beats her to it. "Now that that’s all sorted out, this conversation is over. Since we don’t wish to rest here, let’s get a move on." He then walks over to you and offers a hand, with slight hesitance you reach up and take it letting him hoist you back onto your feet and start leading you farther down into darkened city of Aeor.

"Is-is that really all I’m here for?" You will up the courage to ask, looking up at him still a little confused, he stares back down at you with a softened expression compared to how he looked at Cree earlier.

"Only if ye want to look at it at face value. There’s more to it then that, but I suppose some just wouldn’t want to understand." He gives a side look over at his loyal cleric who now walks a bit of a distance behind the two of you.

[a-write-for-soreeyes]

Marry Me? [caleb widogast x reader]

Caleb Widogast x Reader - MUSIC FIC

[with Platonic!Mighty Nein x Reader]

The song is “For the Dancing and the Dreaming” from ‘How to Train Your Dragon 2’ followed right behind by “The Skye Boat Song” from ‘Outlander’ bc I feel as though it really fits with the end of the fic and all of the feels it gives me.I’ve had this idea forming in my head for a while now and I decided to just go for it and write it, it does contain spoilers for a character after ep. 27 of campaign 2.

You know the rules, y/n = your name, h/c = hair colour, s/c = skin colour

Also I have no idea how to write accents so just imagine I wrote Caleb’ accent well.

Fic Word Count - 1710 (aprox.)

(When you should start the song I’ll put a little ‘s’ in brackets to let you know)

Italics means lyrics and bold + italics means that multiple are singing at once.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Battles can be easily won, but they are not so easily forgotten. We lost so many people on the way to defeating the dark forces that kept a grasp on our world. We had seen so much together, and we had lost so much together. But we were still standing, well some of us were, Fjord had taken a few too many hits and was getting healed by Jester, while Yasha, Beau and Nott were patching eachother up across from me.

After the final battle we had decided to walk to the nearest town before setting up camp just outside the perimeter of the town untouched by the battle that was raging but a few hours ago, rather than find and inn in town and scare the locals with just how bloodied and beaten we all were.

Taking off my boots and socks I stretched out my feet, then started to wipe the dirt and blood from my face, trying to rid myself of the grime even though I knew it was a losing battle. Hearing the sound of heavy footsteps on the grass come up next to me I knew who it was instantly.

“y/n? Can we talk about what I asked before what just happened, happened?” I looked over to the right of me, where the voice had originated from and saw Caleb standing there looking shyley at the ground, back up to me and then back down once again. Giving him a quick nod I scooched over on the fallen log I was sitting at and let him sit down next to me. 

“I’m sorry I sprung the question on you just before we were about to head right into battle but…” I felt him turn towards me eyes burning into the side of my face, “but I couldn’t look death in the eyes and not know if you wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.” He licked his chapped lips before turning back towards the flickering flame and continuing “ And if one of us didn’t walk out of there, I couldn’t live with not knowing the answer to that question.” 

I turned towards him and letting loose pieces of my h/c hair fall into my face and taking in the state of the man beside me. Tears welling in his eyes, hair a mangled mess, dirt and some blood that he couldn’t seem to wipe off still on his face, clothes tattered and shaking slightly, as though the adrenaline from hours earlier had yet to wear off. Looking back to the fire now warming my s/c face I took a look around at our friends. They were bloodied, battered, and bruised. I looked over at Caleb expectantly waiting for him to say anything at all, and just as he was about too he was cut off.

From my left I heard the sound. It started quietly, just a giggle before becoming louder and other voices soon joined. Laughter. Jester must have said something to the rest of the  group that had accumulated across from Caleb and I, as they were cracking up and leaning on each other for support tears coming to their eyes and slowly rolling down their now cleaned faces. A much different reason for the tears on their cheeks from a few hours ago when we were in the heat of battle. (S) “Heh, look at them, always ones to fund the bright side even after seeing as much as we just have.” Caleb let out a breathy laugh and continued to watch the group joke with each other.

“Caleb?” I asked, not turning to look at the redhead next to me, “I wanna get married to you.” I uttered softly as I looked around at the rest of our small family, joking and laughing, sometimes a bit too hard and cringing at the pain that shot from different areas from where they had been hurt and only recently healed.  Instead of an answer I heard Caleb start to whistle softly, so much so that the sound almost got lost in the light wind around us.

“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas, with never a fear of drowning.” Looking over at Caleb I saw him lost in what I could only assume was his own memories, “And gladly ride the waves of life…” Caleb turned towards me, suddenly looking straight into my eyes as he said, “If you will marry me.” letting a small smirk slip on to his scruffy bearded face. I recognize what he was singing almost immediately. It was a wedding song that Molly had sung to us one night when we couldn’t sleep, we too excited for the day ahead to come, thinking that it would be an easy mission, only for us to lose Molly before the fight had even ended.  Seeing the tears in his eyes reflect the light of the flames he continued to softly sing to me, “No scorching sun, nor freezing cold will stop-” 

“Will stop me on my journey! Sorry.” Fjord called out as he sung (extremely) off key distracting Caleb and I from getting lost to each other and calling our attention to the group that was now staring at us expantly. 

Slowly turning my face back to him, gently Caleb continued “If you will promise me your heart. And love-” He let out a shaky breath and tried to gather himself in hopes to stop himself from crying. Wiping his tears I took his face in my hands softly. 

“And love me for eternity,” I continued as my voice cracked feeling all the emotions I had tried so hard to suppress about Molly’ death start to arise. “My dearest one, my darlin’ dear,” there was music suddenly coming from the left of Caleb and I, only to see Nott making magical instruments appear and start to play the tune, “your mighty words astound me.” grabbing his rough hands in mine I started once again, “But i’ve no need of mighty deeds, when I feel your arms,” Hoisting Caleb up and out of his seat next to me I swung him around trying to dance through the tears in our eyes, the pain from our sore bodies and the laughter that came tumbling out of us, “Around me!” 

Hearing the instruments pick up in time with Caleb and I’ terrible festival dancing, “But I would bring you rings of gold, and even sing you poetry-”, “Oh would you!” Beau yelled as we passed our group of friends.

“And I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside me!” Around us the small clearing started to light up with thousands of fireflies swirling around the camp above us in strings and start to light up the trees, bushes and colourful flowers that surrounded all of us. Seeing Beau grab Yasha’ hand and start dancing, and Nott, Jester and Fjord all join hands to start spinning around the fire with Caleb and I. 

Halting the dancing for just a moment we all stepped back from our partners we bowed to each other, “I have no use for rings of gold,” sliding our hands up and against one another before crossing them back to back and the palm to palm once again, “I care not for your poetry,” hearing Caleb let out a small chuckle we started to spin in small circles before continuing around the bonfire that had grown slightly bigger since the beginning of the dance casting shadows along the trees of our figures dancing, feeling the soft grass between my toes and the grace of Caleb and I’ hands just slightly brushing against each other, “I only want to hold your hand,” Caleb let our a loud laugh at that, and I could feel his warm breath heating my face even more that the fire next to us did.

“I only want you near me,” the redhead continued.

Now grabbing my raised right hand in his left and gripping my waist with his right, my left came up to rest on his broad shoulder, we sang in harmony “To love and kiss, to sweetly hold. For the dancin’ and the dreamin’!” Letting out squeals of delight as he lifted me up and my cape swung around us. “Through all the sorrows and delights,” now hearing the rest of the Nein start singing along and whooping and hollering at the moves that were so effortlessly flowing out of us all, “I’ll keep your love beside me,” feeling ourselves start to run out of breath the music picked up tempo, “I’ll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning,” Dipping up and down quickly along with the music we all swung ourselves wildly about, trying desperately to hold onto each other, “And gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me!” Finally halting and pressing our foreheads together everyone panted heavily and let out loud belts of laughter except for Fjord who continued to hold the final note, “MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, I’M STILL GOINNNNNGGGGG.  I’m done.” Every one of us laughing wildly at the antics that had just insured, only halting as Caleb bent down on one knee and pulled out a small pouch dropping two simple gold bands into his open palm and slowly looking up at me, “so? Will you? Marry me I mean.” He looked expantley at me as though I’d change my answer after everything that we had been through in the past few years and the extravagant dancing that we just did. “Yes. I will marry you Caleb Widogast.” I exclaimed happily as the rest of the grouped whooped and hollered and yelled cries of joy into the night sky. 

Slowly he slipped the cold, gold band onto my ring finger and myself doing the same to him we looked at eachother, just basking in the comfort that the fire, and the sound of the terrible singing of our friends, of our family gave us before leaning in for a soft kiss, that only lasted but a moment before Nott started to make throwing up noises causing Caleb and myself to let out a small chuckle.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Ja. I love you too.”

[analisegrey]

Februwhump Prompt

“Cauterization” (Read on AO3)

And Home Before Dark (a direct sequel to Into the Woods)

Caleb is upright.

Mostly.

That’s in no small part due to the arm Molly has braced around his waist; the healing potion Molly’d fed him had brought him back from the brink, but it still very much feels like he was shot- a lot- and it’s quite painful. That’s to say nothing of the beating he’d taken before they’d fled the battleground; the barbed bolts were just added insult.

He can feel time flying past as they trudge through the woods. He’s fairly certain they’re heading in the right direction, and therefore back toward help, but Caleb’s not entirely sure they’ll get there fast enough. He hasn’t told Molly, but his wounds have started to bleed again from the movement of walking, wet warmth making what’s left of his shirt cling unpleasantly to his skin. More worrisome, as far as Caleb’s concerned, is that he knows nightfall isn’t far off. Another hour at most, though full dark will hit them under the tree canopy much faster. Caleb’s already having difficulty seeing where he’s going; he tells himself that’s due to the low light, and not the dizziness of blood loss.

He considers his options. He knows they have no potions left- if they had any, he’s certain he’d have been forced to drink them by now. Neither he nor Molly are gifted with healing magic, and Molly has already done his best to bandage Caleb’s wounds with his and Caleb’s shirts before they’d gotten moving. If there were anything else to be done, Molly would have done it.

That doesn’t mean that Caleb has done everything he can, yet.

He knows Molly is going to argue with him. It’s the best possible solution, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good solution, and he’s only considering it because he’s relatively certain getting back to town before dark is incredibly unlikely, and he in no way wants to be caught in the dark woods while leaving a trail of fresh blood behind. It’s asking for trouble, and neither of them can handle any more of that right now.

“Molly- Mollymauk, wait please.”

Molly comes to a stop, looking over at him. “Do you need a minute? We shouldn’t stop long, but we can rest a moment if you need-”

“Molly.” Caleb gathers some of his dwindling strength and projects more confidence than he’s feeling. “The bleeding has started again, and if I do not stop it we will attract predators and it won’t matter how close to town we get. Something else will find us first.”

“Wait, you’ve started- why didn’t you say something, Caleb?” Molly breaks off into muttered curses, lowering Caleb down to sit so he’s propped against a tree before reaching for the strips of shirt he’d used to bandage Caleb’s wounds. Caleb catches Molly’s wrist before he can make contact.

“This is me saying something. Molly, the bandages are not enough. Neither of us can heal, and there are no potions left.”

Molly frowns at him, barely visible to Caleb in the growing dimness. “Then what would you suggest we do? You said we had to stop the bleeding-”

Caleb shakes his head, lifting a trembling hand to let a small curl of flame lick over his fingertips. “No, not ‘we’, Molly.”

Molly’s expression goes from confused to understanding to horrified in quick succession. “No. Absolutely not. We can’t be that far out from town now; we’ll get there and get you help. No need to do anything foolish.”

Caleb snorts a laugh, then winces at the resultant spikes of pain. “I think we are well beyond pretty lies at this point, Mr. Mollymauk. Even if we move at full speed, it would be a close thing to get there before dark, and we both know we’re not going that fast. I am leaving a trail even the stupidest of predators could follow easily. That is all of course beside the point that I am slowly bleeding out. If we are to make it safely out of the woods, something must be done to stop it. We have tried dealing with it in more traditional ways, and they have failed.” Caleb looks from the flame flickering on his fingertips down to the blood-stained bandages. “Trust me when I say this is not a choice I am pleased to be making, nor one that I make on a whim. If I thought there was another way, I would happily consider it.” Caleb glances back up at Molly in the failing light and gives him a pained smile. “Mr. Mollymauk, if you have another suggestion, now is the time.”

Caleb can still see just enough of Molly’s face in the flickering firelight to see the anguish and indecision written across it. “Caleb, there has to be a better way than-” Molly gestures down at Caleb’s hand. “-what you’re proposing.”

“If there is, I cannot think of it. And unless you’ve been holding back an idea, I think I would like to get this over with quickly, please.”

Molly’s face twists, and he spits a curse in Infernal that has Caleb flinching back. Molly holds his hands up in apology and composes himself before running a hand over his face with a frustrated huff. “No, no I don’t have any other ideas.”

Caleb nods, stifling a groan as he settles himself more firmly against the tree. “Alright.”

Caleb’s been hurt a lot in his life, in many different and horrible ways, but there’s something uniquely awful about the way burns feel. They throb, the pain penetrating and inescapable, and by the time he’s on the last wound, he hesitates, his fingers hovering over the injury. The three he’s cauterized already are screaming flares of agony, and realistically he knows adding one more won’t make much of a difference. If anyone deserves this kind of torment it’s him, but part of him still rebels at the thought of willingly putting his fingers into the last wound and searing it closed. He needs to focus, to do this and get it done so they can get moving, get somewhere safe, but there’s a part of him, a treacherous whisper of thought that wonders if his parents had felt this, or if the smoke had taken them first-

“ Caleb .” There’s a burst of pain against Caleb’s cheek, snapping his head sideways; he blinks, Molly coming into focus in front of him, his arm lowering. “Are you with me?”

He isn’t, not entirely, but he’s present enough. “Ja. Ja, just-” He jams his fingers into the last bolt hole with a choked-off noise and lets his fingers ignite before he can think about it. The pain is immediate and nauseating, and he viciously bites down on the scream that wants to rip its way out of him. When he’s sure it’s done he lets his hand drop to his side, his head thumping back against the tree, and he takes a moment. It’s not until Molly’s hands settle over his and squeeze that he realizes how badly he’s shaking.

“Caleb, mo chuisle, are you alright?” Molly’s voice is laced with concern, and Caleb is sure his face must match, but the light’s dim enough now he can’t see more than the basic shape of Molly in front of him. He responds with a gently unhinged laugh and a shake of his head.

“No, probably not. But time for that later, ja?”

“Caleb-” He can easily hear the frown in Molly’s voice, but chooses, as he does with many things, to ignore it. He pulls his hands away from Molly’s and gets one on the tree behind him, the other on the ground, and pushes himself up with a groan.

“Gods above, Caleb, you stubborn arsehole.” Molly’s hands are on him in an instant, helping steady him once he’s upright. “You could have taken another minute. A minute won’t matter.”

“We can’t know that, Mollymauk.” Caleb gives him a tremulous smile.  “Let’s get going.”

There’s a brief pause in which Caleb can feel the weight of disapproval from Molly’s stare, but Molly doesn’t say anything, just takes one of Caleb’s arms and flings it over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around Caleb’s waist to steady him before they start walking again.

“One of these days,” Molly huffs as they walk. “We’re going to have a long and probably unpleasant conversation about that deflection thing you do.”

“What do you mean?”

“You-” Molly pauses then says, “When you’re hurt you brush it off, like it doesn’t matter, or- or like you’re trying to get us to ignore it. You did it a little when we first met, but you do it more now.”

Caleb’s momentarily stunned. He thinks back on his interactions with the Nein, with Molly, and he can see what Molly’s talking about, the trend; it causes a painful curl in his gut, and gods, he doesn’t have the energy for this now.

“I’m not one to pry.” They go around a small boulder, Molly leading him deftly to the side and forward again. “You’ve never really dug into my past beyond that first time with everyone else, and I appreciate and respect that. A person should get to keep their own secrets, and only share what they like.”

He thinks Molly’s going to drop it, and is just starting to relax when Molly says, “If it weren’t for you almost getting killed so frequently, I’d leave it alone. But I’m scared one day we’re going to ignore something we shouldn’t, and you’re one who’ll suffer for it.”

Caleb has a number of responses he could make to that, but none of those will appease Molly, and would in fact probably just make him more worried than he already is. Caleb’s grateful for the low light; Molly can probably see him, but it’s easier to pretend he can’t when Caleb’s mostly blind. It soothes the crawling under his skin he gets when people look too closely, when they see him, not as he pretends to be, but as he truly is.

Caleb considers his words carefully, and Molly- wonderful, ever-patient Molly- gives him the time to get his words in order. “It’s complicated.”

Molly’s arm tightens ever-so-briefly around Caleb’s waist. “Then explain it to me.” His voice is gentle, and Caleb’s heart squeezes, wondering how he deserves someone so kind.

“When we first met, the group of us, I was not in a good place. Nott helped, she always helps, but even she, as much as she tries, can only do so much.” Caleb huffs a laugh, and brings his free arm around his middle when the laugh jostles his injuries. “That’s not to say I am perfect now, mind you, but I was much worse back then.”

Molly is quiet, but Caleb thinks he sees him nod.

“I- I care now, in a way I did not before. Back then I didn’t know you all the way I do now. We were all just a group of asshole strangers thrown together and-” It’s getting harder to think clearly, to articulate the muddy swirl of his thoughts. He sighs, leaning more heavily against Molly. “Now that I know you all better, I have a clearer idea of our strengths, our weaknesses. My priorities have shifted.”

“What changed? You know we all care about you, right?”

Caleb drops his hand from his stomach to find and pat the arm Molly has around his waist. “Ja, I know you do, schatz.”

“Then why? Why don’t you want us to help you?”

Caleb aches from the subtle hurt in Molly’s voice. How does he begin to explain? How does he tell Mollymauk that he doesn’t want them wasting resources on him, doesn’t want them using a potion on him that might keep one of them alive? He’s come a long way in terms of how he views things, how he views himself.

But.

If it comes to a decision of whether it should be him or someone else who lives, he just doesn’t see it as a very complex choice. He doesn’t want to die, but he will so someone else can live.

“It isn’t that I don’t want you to help me. I appreciate the care you show me. I just have a better idea of how to deploy our often limited resources.”

“You know you’re not any less important than anyone else, right?”

“Molly-”

“No, you listen to me.” Molly’s voice goes hard, and he comes to a stop, forcing Caleb to stop as well. Molly angles to face him, even though Caleb can’t properly see him at this point. “You’re just as important as anyone else. Your safety is important, your well-being is important, your health is important- physical, mental, or otherwise. You can say your priorities have changed, and I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel, but that doesn’t mean my priorities have changed.” Molly sighs, shifts a little more, and Caleb startles at the touch of a hand to his face. “I can’t believe we’ve gone through so much, experienced and survived all that, just for you to decide that we shouldn’t care for you for whatever reason you’ve got built up in your head.” The hand on Caleb’s face flexes, and he leans into it as Molly’s thumb runs up over his cheekbone. Molly’s voice sounds closer and softer when he continues. “I know to you it makes sense, but believe me when I tell you I want to know if you’re hurting. I want to know if you’re unwell or in pain or just having a bad day. You’re part of my family. I love you and care about you. Please don’t shut me out.”

Caleb swallows past the lump that’s taken up residence in his throat and nods. He doesn’t trust his voice, but does trust that Molly can see his response. The cauterized wounds are pulsing, hot and insistent like small fires in his belly, his whole body aching with the edge of fever, but none of it hurts the way Molly’s quiet plea does. He wants to give in, desperately wants to give Molly everything and anything he wants. He can readily admit his life has improved greatly since Molly came into it, since the whole of the Mighty Nein came into it, but there are still things he has to do, things he must accomplish before he can even begin to deserve the kind love and affection Molly shows him. Molly is still waiting, expectant, and Caleb sighs wearily.

“I- I will try, schatz.”

“That’s all I ask, love.” Molly leans in and kisses Caleb, a quick press of lips to his forehead, and Molly hisses as he pulls back. “Fuck, you’re burning up. It’s time we get going. Sooner we get back, sooner Jester can have a look at you.”

Caleb steadies himself as best he can, takes a shuddering breath, and braces himself to move again. “Ja. That- that is a good idea.”

Molly tightens his arm around Caleb’s waist, and together they find their way out of the woods.

[mollymaymaukme]

Mollymauk x Reader: From Beyond the Grave, Part 10

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11,   

 Molly barely manages to stay upright as he rounds the corner. Desperately chasing after the feeling that was now just a cold void inside of him. He does not take notice of the unusually large raven sitting in the willow, only what has been planted beneath it.

    “Y/n” The sound a husky whisper as tears begin to spring forth into his vision. His steps slow as he comes to your still body. Falling to his knees as agony rips into his chest and tears at his heart. “. . .to late. . .my love I’m sorry.” His words barely making their way through his sobs.

    Caduceus felt the abrupt change in his graveyard the moment it happened. The Nein watching as his face fell blank, sorrowful eyes turning to where Molly had just disappeared behind the temple. “Lily. . .”

    Yasha takes one look at where Molly had gone, Caduceus’ expression, and back to the Nein before she seems to make a decision. The barbarian quickly makes her way around the temple and the rest of the Nein follow in confusion.

    The others were quicker, the firbolgs lagging behind the pack, and the scene they came upon only spurred their confusion more.

    Yasha’s head was bowed and Molly was limp in her hold as ugly sobs racked his body. The body of a girl only half buried was ashen and paled in death. In the branches above the trio a giant raven sat watch, its own head bowed as though it understands whatever tragedy took place.

    Caduceus puts a hand on Beau’s shoulder before she can speak. “How about you all follow Nila inside and have a cup of tea?” The firbolg normally so easy going had the slightest strained edge to his tone. Silently urging the others to do as he asks so he can deal with this new development.

    Before they can follow his request or protest it there is a choked spluttering coming from the shallow grave. Darkened blood and fluids flying from her lips in droplets and small streams that travel down her skin in grotesque contrast.

    Molly practically flies from Yasha’s arms to the girls side. “Y/n?!” Trembling hands try to clear the blood from her face and only succeeds in smearing it. “Y/n, please stay with me.” She has resumed breathing although it is a wet and withering sound, every third breath she chokes and must sacrifice the next breath to cough the fluid up.

    The tiefling turns wide eyes frantically to the group “Jester, Caduceus-- heal her!” His voice breaking as he begs.

    Jester shoots a bewildered look to the other Cleric and is stilled from going forward to help by the firbolgs slow shaking of his head. Caduceus slowly makes his way to the trio and kneels on the other side of the girl, his calla lily. “I’m afraid we cannot” His voice seems to physically cut into Molly.

    “What do you mean?! Yes you can. She is obviously hurt!” He gestures forth with his bloodied hands to prove his point.

    A tired sigh “That kind of magic only works on the living. . .and she is not.”

    “She is breathing! She is-”

    Yasha seems to understand, at least in some small part, what Caduceus is trying to convey and silences the tiefling with a soft squeeze to his shoulder. “Molly. . .” Her always soft voice rippling with her own grief.

    “I don’t understand. . .why would I be led here if we can’t help?” His franticness leaves between one breath and the next. Shoulders sagging as he trails fingers across her cheeks and smooths her hair back.

    “Only the gods could say. And I don’t think we are dealing with just one anymore.” Caduceus shoots a wary look up to the raven. Unnerved how its gaze never leaves Calla Lily. He sighs and turns his own gaze back to her, “Her grip is fading. I can feel it.” He looks up at Molly. The tiefling so lost and helpless as he stares down at his lover. “The Wildmother helped keep her here. But I think I understand now, that Calla lily couldn’t wake up because she was giving the life the Wildmother gave her to you.”

    “Oh why do you have to be so stupidly self sacrificing?” Molly groans as he cradles her face in his hands. Wishing that she would wake and push her cheek further into the heat of his hand, like she always did--even in her sleep she would always curl closer to him. But she remained still with only the small rises of her chest to assure him she was not yet dead.

    But even that small assurance did not alleviate the despair of her current state.

    The Nein recognize the anguish that the dead leave behind for the living in the way Molly clutches at strands of her hair, body hunched over her as though to protect her from the non existent wind. In the way Yasha rubs small circles into the tieflings back with her gaze lowered to the ground unable to look at the girl. Even Caduceus seemed more dull in his mannerisms, eyes telling of his own pain that ran deep and jagged.

Kitor comes forward to herd them away from the grieving. Nila and Asar long ago had gone back inside to keep the child from witnessing the scene. “Let us go have that cup of tea like Caduceus suggested.”

They do not resist, although their retreat is hesitant as they long to comfort their friends. Caleb tosses a last look over his shoulder before snapping his fingers and following after the others. The orange tabby materializing beside Yasha and going to curl up in her lap.

“C’mon y/n. Come back to me. You can do it my lovely wild woman. If anyone can do it its you.” Molly whispers against her hair before leaving a lingering kiss on her forehead.

----------

“Wake up Y/n”

Your eyes slowly open to find only a dark space speckled with lights that shimmer to much to be the stars in a night sky. The tired ache and echoing pains are still present in your body but unlike before you could clearly feel the biting cold. Shivering violently as the chill takes hold of you as it has been unable to do since you were laid in the grave.

A cold hand urges you to sit up before it drapes a black cloak over you. The feathered thing did not hold the owners heat but it did help ease the chatter of your teeth. You look to the man who was kneeling beside you. He had distinct elven features that were cut with human flaws. Half elf then. Inky hair falling in straight curtains brightly contrasted by a colorful strand just to the side of his face.

“I am Vax’ildan. But you can call me Vax.” His eyes are sympathetic as he helps you stand.

“Where am I?” Your voice small and rasped unpleasantly.

“The Court of the Raven Queen.”

You nod without protest to being here. But something wasn't’ right. You could still feel your heart stuttering along, so unlike the expected condition of most guests to this plane.

You need Vax’s assistance to walk. Your body so pitifully weak and broken, your soul still tethered to the mortal plane could not grant you energy from there.

From the darkness emerges a grand pavilion. Inside was an ornate throne, all carved in the same black marbles and obsidians, where a tall figure sat. You did not need to be told who it was. This was the Raven Queen.

Vax has to help you kneel before her throne and then again help you stand.

“I am pleased my champion” Her porcelain masked features prevent you from seeing her lips move but even her words seemed to echo all about you. You cannot see her pupils but it is a tangible feeling when her gaze moves to you that forces your head to bow. “As for you. I am far less thrilled to have you in my court again.”

“Again?” A shivered word so quiet you don’t think she heard it at first.

Talons tap against the marble slowly “I suppose having a soul tampered with so much would lead to memory loss.” She sighs.

Before you can ask for clarification a bright light grows from across the space. Briefly forcing you to cover your eyes. Once it has ebbed away you look back over to see another woman. You feel an unconditional pull and devotion to her.

“Wildmo-”

“Melora. Fashionably late as always.” The Raven Queens head swings to look at the newcomer.

“Can’t rush a tide Raven dearest.” Her voice bring you warmth in this desolate plane.

“Oh my dear child.” She tuts as she strides towards you. Your eyes completely entranced by her.

Dark skin was tinted with green that shimmered under the specks of light dotting the darkness, her hair tumbling down her back in green mosses woven with colorful blooms. Blue eyes that gazed upon you constantly swirling and shifting like the ocean. Russet feathers and vines twined about her form to clothe her in a surprisingly flowing gown that trailed in her wake.

Vax bows his head in respect to her and steps back as she cradles your face in her hands. “You’re wilting my lovely. My poor child.” She brushes her fingers through your hair and you are immediately invigorated with a new humming energy that grants you both strength and warmth. “But the suffering isn’t for naught, you’re doing such a good job. Those children especially. I am so very proud of you child.” She smiles down at you softly.

“Let us not forget what we are here for Melora.” The Raven Queen seems tired of the scene before her.

“A moment Raven dearest, I am meeting my chosen for the first time face to face.” She turns back to you with a secretive grin “Well, not the first. But the first in your memories.”

Your mouth opens and closes for several moment before you manage a soft, “Hello” even your voice improved and unwavering.

“Hello y/n.” She kisses your forehead “Let us get to business and hopefully get you back to that Moonweaver disciple sooner rather than later.”

The Wildmother steps away and goes to take a place beside the Raven Queen’s throne. Branches sprouting forth from her fingertips to twine and grow into her own throne.

“Now we may finally start” The Raven Queen straightens her form and her dead eyed mask stares straight through you. “You wish to return your chosen to the living, yes?” Melora nods with a bright smile. “I will grant your request. . .only if you give me the soul of Mollymauk Tealeaf.”

[dent-de-leon]

Lucien being so wary and scared of magic because of the hag that desecrated his brother's corpse, because of the blood hunter scars on his own skin that scared his sister away--because of the way his soul shattered at the height of his ritual, torn asunder and scattered amidst the Astral Sea. Because of the nine Eyes that still brand his skin, still bind him to wizards who have always tortured and enslaved fate touched souls like him.

Lucien is taught first and foremost that magic is pain, that it is fueled by unfortunate victims and those with nowhere else to go, that it is always a powerful mage preying on someone vulnerable. Of course he distrusts Caleb from the very first moment, of course he'd see another mage--employed by the Cerberus Assembly archmage who killed him--and loathe all that he is.

"I'm careful," he tells Caleb and Beau. "Especially around practitioners of magic. Have a bit of a history--especially with those that walked alongside such individuals. Pardon me if I mistrust certain aspects of the arcane that might, I don't know, be hanging out in the unspoken wings of our arrangement. So I'm careful..."

When Veth casts Phantasmal Force on Lucien, conjures that image of Caleb in his mind, it really gets under his skin. "Claim the rest. The wizard's mine." It feels very vindictive and personal. And I think a big part of that is just how much of an effect Caleb has on Molly--a perceived "weakness" Lucien hates himself for.

When Lucien tries to tear into Caleb, he experience this very real, visceral pain, feels how much it physically hurts Mollymauk to hurt Caleb. It's only when Molly's soul sees Caleb is unharmed that that pain eases."His forehead tightened, burning with pain, as if something in there was scratching to get out. It calmed as soon as Caleb turned out to be little more than a clever mirage."

When Caleb called Lucien Circus Man, it truly broke all of Lucien's control for the very first time, shook something deep inside. In the novel, it's enough for Mollymauk to manifest before him visibly, and he's terrified. Lucien despising how much sway this lonely little wizard holds over a shattered shard of his heart, how a few kind words are enough to twist him from his life's purpose, threaten the grand vision he sacrificed everything for.

In that final fight in Cognouza, Lucien makes a point of killing Jester and Caleb first. And as Laura points out, Lucien kept targeting them because they were the ones who kept succeeding on their Persuasion checks with Molly. He punishes the Nein every time they dare to reach out to Mollymauk and really break through, every time Lucien can feel his own resolve slipping away.

So he's especially cruel to Caleb, lashes out at him and tries to tear apart this remnant of another life. He hates that a piece of his own heart and soul still feels for this man, that an Empire wizard of all people is still clinging to some broken fragment that "shouldn't exist." "It wasn't me. He's gone, and you will all die and join me." "He's gone. Let him go. Let it all go." None of it ever dissuades Caleb though. He still fights to bring Molly back until the very end; unwavering loyalty, unconditional love. Caleb refusing to ever let go of Mollymauk, even when it kills him. And Lucien...Lucien is still all alone--

Thinking of all the scars Lucien still bears from magic, how the Somnovem admitted being the Nonagon meant he would suffer terribly. "What will it cost?" "Pain and pain and pain. A dear price for a man, a pittance to a king. And nothing to a god, cosmically ordained."

But then there's Caleb Widogast, Molly's, "softness and light." Caleb's gentle touch as all his magic flows through him--stitching his wounds shut and wiping away the blood, anchoring his lost, wayward soul. He is warmth and healing, the catalyst for Tealeaf's first breath--

Caleb using magic to heal both his own broken heart and his Circus Man's wounded soul. "Caleb is going to set his hands on the Transmuter Stone...and think of all the time and energy that went into making him able to destroy and tear down, and how good it feels to subvert that and turn it, and use it to build. And restore. And heal. And I begun to summon up every ounce of learning, and ability, and skill, and inspiration and imagination I have--and channel it into the soul. And fill it with the shared connection that everyone here has, and try to summon our friend back from the beyond."

[corinthian-og-begay-docrime]

Chapters: 2/20 Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Nott/Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf & Caleb Widogast, Captain Avantika/Fjord (Critical Role), Beauregard/Jester Lavorre, Yasha/Zuala (Critical Role), Yeza Brenatto/Nott Characters: Nott (Critical Role), Caleb Widogast, Mollymauk Tealeaf, Caduceus Clay, Jester Lavorre, Fjord (Critical Role), Yasha (Critical Role), Beauregard (Critical Role), Veth Brenatto, Bren Aldric Ermendrud, Kiri (Critical Role), Yeza Brenatto Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Human/Vampire Relationship, Vampire Hunters, Rape/Non-con Elements, Graphic Description, Murder, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Nonbinary Character, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Best Friends, serial killer best friends, Blood and Gore, Blood Drinking, Implied/Referenced Torture Series: Part 1 of Nott and Caleb shenanigans, Part 2 of A complete collection of Widomauk Summary:

About 100 years ago the supernaturals revealed themselves to be real. 50 years ago humans and supernaturals started living in peace. Well mostly in peace, there is still a lot of crime that happens back and forth. Mollymauk and his best friend and partner Yasha are Zadash homicide detectives, they have just made a home here new to the town. They move into an apartment building owned by a perky woman with bright blue hair named Jester Lavorre. He ends up meeting Private investigators Nott and Yeza Brenatto, Cad the herbalist and Fortuneteller Caleb Widogast. They are all in his opinion oddballs. Then he meets Bryce and their ten-year-old daughter Kiri. He thinks nothing of it until his boss Norda tells him that there are a lot of supernaturals that live in Zadash. While on a case he meets Fjord a demon hunter and Beau a monk. Who revealed to him that his neighbors are all ancient vampires, Specifically serial killers and they are here to help get rid of the problem known as the Mighty Nein. Molly doesn't believe it until he catches his neighbors murdering someone. Caleb calmly explains to him that the men they killed deserved it.

VETH

The nine-year-old girl walked through the woods, it was the quickest way to get to Bren's house. Yeza was supposed to join her but he got sick with the plague.

        "Remember Veth, never walk in the woods alone." Her mother's words echoed through her ears. But she didn't listen, she should have listened to her mother. Halfway through the path, she was snatched up by a monster. She screamed when it lifted her up. Screamed when it bit her neck. She tried to fight back but it was too strong for her. The thing smiled at her baring its sharp teeth.

"Should I turn it?" it said

"Let me have a turn. I am hungry too," another voice said "It's food," the other monster reached for Veth. She bit its hand hard enough to draw blood. "Bitch!" it screamed "It bit me!" the thing grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to a pool of water and drowned her. They left her for dead. And she did die. But having bit one of the vampires and having its blood in her system she turned.

That night she woke up again, her throat burned. Everything was too loud. She walked the rest of the way to Bren's house. She needed help. He could help her. She hoped that he could help her. He was smart. She threw rocks at his window till he came downstairs. She could hear his heart racing the blood pumping through his veins.

"Veth," he said, "What happened to you?"

"I was attacked," she cried "I am not. I am not alive. I don't know what happened to me, I am not," she sobbed.

"Veth it's gonna be okay I am going to get my mother," he went back inside and got his mom. Bren's family are witches, they live outside of the village. They had no coven because they had been kicked out of their old one. Veth had never asked why all Bren had said was that it was because of him. Veth and Yeza are Bren's only two friends. Uma kneels down in front of Veth. She lays her hands on her son's best friend.

"Veth," she says quietly. "I am so sorry," she says

"What happened to me? Am I going to die?"

"I am afraid you already have died," she explains "You were attacked by vampires," she said "You have a choice to make,"

"What choice is that?" Veth asked

"You can choose to feed. Or if you don't feed then you will die,"  

"but I don't want to kill anyone," Veth said

"You don't have too, just a cup of human blood and you will be fine,"

"I don't want you to die," Bren said "You are my best friend,"

"We will protect you if you choose to feed," Uma said

"Ok," she said "I will go it. How exactly do I do it?" Veth asked

"I will be right back," she said leaving she came back with one of her bowls and a knife.

"Let me do it mother," Bren said

"Are you sure Bren?" Uma said

"Yes, She is my friend," he took the knife and cut his palm letting his blood drip into the bowl. Veth's mouth watered. Uma handed the bowl to Veth, while Veth drank from it Uma wrapped Bren's hand in a cloth.

YEZA

Yeza is also nine years old when he is turned. Veth turns him to save his life, she askes him before. He joins her and the Ermendrud family. He and Veth hunt animals in the woods, they stay away from humans. They help their new family, bring them food in the cold winters. Mentally they age, physically they stay the same. Nine-year-olds forever. They watch Bren grow their friendship strengthens as the years pass by. When they are fourteen or would be fourteen they get married. Yeza has always loved Veth. And Veth loves her back. Leofric Ermendrud marries them, he is happy to do it. Glad to see that they are happy even if they will never age, or grow old together. Bren is happy too, he wants his friends to be happy. And when they tell him he just smiles and says

"Well, it's about time,"

JESTER

Jester comes to them when Bren is 16 years old. The young girl herself is sixteen, while out gathering herbs for his mother, he, Veth, and Yeza find her. She is badly injured they take her home. Uma Ermendrud tried to heal her but the wounds are too deep. Veth sits with her in the middle of the night she stirs.

"Hello," Veth says

"Hi. Am I dying?"

"Yes, but you do not have to be. I am a vampire. If you want I can turn you,"

"If I say yes I won't die?"

"Well, you won't stay dead"

"Okay then yes," she says. Veth turns her and they have another addition to their family. People in the village start to get suspicious of the Ermendruds. But since they do not cause trouble they leave them alone for now. Jester becomes quick friends with Veth, Bren, and Yeza. She learns from the two how to not kill humans, and how to kill the animals they feed on. Since they only need the blood the animals they hunt they bring back for their human family. They do not let any part of the animal go to waste.

BREN

Bren is nineteen years old when his parents are murdered, an outsider comes to the village a man named Trent Ikithon. He gets the villagers riled up and they go to Bren's home. The three vampires are more than willing to help defend their family. Uma says no that it's not necessary, she tells them they can't attack the village. It will only make it worse. Bren tells them to run, that they will catch up with them shortly. Veth, Yeza, and Jester reluctantly leave them behind. A decision they later regret. Bren's parents are burned along with their house. Ikithon spares Bren. He says it is because he is not a witch. Not like his mother or father had been. Ikithon is also a vampire, he's been around for a long time. It's clear in his eyes. He takes Bren as his slave. When Bren does not meet up with Veth and the others they go back to the burned remains of the house. Veth cries while Yeza holds her in his arms. Jester looks through the remains. She only finds two bodies, she comes back to her friends and looks at them.

"I think Bren is still alive," she says

"Then we will have to go and find him," Veth says

"Agreed," Yeza says.

Bren spends fourteen years as Ikithon's blood whore. He is not the Ikithon's only blood slave either, but he is Ikithon's favorite. There are a few others, the only other two he connects with are Astrid and Eodwulf. They are like him, they come from witch families but do not have magic. It's under Ikithon Bren learns what he and the other two are. A special type of witch, that does not have their own magic, they draw it from other things.

Bren is thirty-three years old when he dies. It took fourteen years for his friends to track him down but they find him. They come just in time to watch Ikithon slits Bren's throat. Veth had a choice to make go after Ikithon or save Bren. She chooses Bren. Veth runs over to him, she doesn't know if he wants to be turned or not. She knows she should ask. But she doesn't as she feeds him her blood. She hopes she is not too late to save him. They all wait, Bren wakes up. The fatal wound to his throat is healed save for the scar left behind from the blade. Jester gets ahold of some human blood for him. So he does not kill anyone by accident. He feels the magic buzz at his fingertips. Bren is unsure of what is happening. It takes him a moment to realize what it is. Like Ikithon had told him and the others who were kept as slaves here, he was a siphoner. Vampires were magic, and now that he was one he could use that magic.

The four friends free the slaves that Ikithon left behind, they all make the decision to help people. They travel around killing bad people. They also search for Ikithon. But he is nowhere to be found.

BRYCE

Bryce twenty when they first meet the odd little family. They themselves are considered odd by the village they live in. They decide to talk to the strange little girl and boy, the strange girl with violet eyes and the strange man with a scar across his throat. They learn that this group is vampires. They asked if they can become one and join them. The oldest one says its forever, and that they will never be able to come back to their home. Bryce says that it's okay. Veth the little girl is the one to change him. She is the oldest vampire out of all of them, but she doesn't look the oldest. Which confuses Bryce until they hear the stories. They ask if they can join their quest to stop bad people from hurting the innocent.

CADUCEUS

Its been 100 years since the group of vampires the Mighty Nein as they call themselves an inside joke. They meet Cad while they are resting at a nearby village. Cad is a demon, though he is pretty harmless and mostly just likes to work in his garden and make tea. He gladly agreed to join them. It's when they meet Cad that Veth and Bren change their names. Veth feels her name no longer fits her. She settles on the name Nott. It's a joke. Nott, the brave. Bren chooses the name Caleb Widogast. He feels that it fits him better and he can leave behind what happened to his parents. What happened to him. He doesn't talk about it and his family doesn't ask. They've seen the scars he has. Nott is the only one who really knows what happened. He told her, and she understands his hatred towards the vampires who take advantage of humans and turn them into "blood whores"

KIRI

Kiri is ten when they find her. Her parents were killed by a monster. The Mighty Nein rescued her. Kiri is a fae, she sticks to Jester for the first few days, then Nott, then Yeza, then Caleb, Cad and finally Bryce. She sticks with Bryce the most. Because she is fae she doesn't age much. She can't talk like them. She just mimics words and she has no voice of her own. At first, it's creepy but then again their little band of misfits is creepy already. Their group is composed of five vampires, a demon, and a fae child.

[widogastlie]

precipice caleb, yasha. the mighty nein. “Caleb,” Yasha says his name carefully. “Nott and Jester. They will want to say goodbye.”

Caleb is no stranger to pain.

It’s inevitable as the resident squishy human (or so Jester is always keen to remind him) that he will end up getting injured. This doesn’t feel like that. This was so much worse. Just moving his limbs is exhausting, sending pain spiralling through his limbs.

“Caleb.”

Caleb attempts to open his eyes. It’s too much effort and he huffs out a groan. Even a twitch of his fingers is too painful.

“Look at me.”

The voice is both compassionate and commanding. There’s only one person Caleb knows who would try and order him back to consciousness.

“Yasha,” Caleb says or tries to say. He slurs, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

There’s a touch of a hand in his hair. Caleb doesn’t like people touching him as a general rule, but it’s soothing in comparison to the spasms of pain. With effort, Caleb opens his eyes. He squints in the bright light, there’s a blur of black and white above him, and then the hand in his hair shifts to shield his eyes.

Immobile has never been a position Caleb can handle when he’s conscious, but there’s nothing he can do. When he shifts on the ground, trying to move his aching limbs, the pain is intense, and he lets out a soft noise of pain. “What’s-?”

Yasha looks down at him. There’s a cut above her eye and dirt smudged in her hair. “We were attacked. Separated from the others. Nott went to find Jester.”

Nott is okay then. Caleb is ashamed that it has taken this long to think of her. With Yasha settled on the dirt next to him, Caleb takes stock of his situation; most of the pain is centred at the base of his skull and his stomach. The rest is radiating out from various cuts and bruises, and magical aftershocks. Trying to shift his hand to touch his stomach wound is more effort than he can handle.

“Stop it,” Yasha says, her hands surprisingly gentle as she readjusts his arms. The position is more comfortable but Caleb grunts, fingers twitching. “How bad?”

“Bad enough.” Yasha’s eyes are beautiful this close. Caleb blinks. Weird, the things you notice when you are trying to distract yourself. Yasha blinks but doesn’t say anything more. Though Caleb often longs for silence, it can be overwhelmingly loud inside of his head. For once, he thought, it’s quiet.

There are his friends to consider; Nott, who has been such a balm to his disaster of a life. Jester, who gives him such hope that Nott will be okay; her laughter and care, her need to help anyone however she can. Beau, who is as bad as he is at some things. Fjord, who makes Caleb feel, often, as if they are co-parenting children. He laughs, groaning as pain throbs in his stomach. Yasha mutters something Caleb can’t understand and there is pressure on his wound. Immediately Caleb feels sick, nausea rolling through his stomach. He lets out a sound that is more whimper than groan and bats weakly at Yasha’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” Yasha says, her deep voice sympathetic as she keeps applying pressure. “I do not want you bleeding out.”

Understanding what has to be done and having it done are two completely different things. Caleb’s fingers curl around Yasha’s wrist, his grip loose. There is a blackness creeping at the edges of his vision and he blinks a few times to focus on Yasha’s face. The longer she keeps her hands against his wound, the less he feels it.

“S’not hurting so much.” Caleb licks his lips. Yasha doesn’t look enthused by this news. In fact, her eyes flick up to the forest, looking for something. Caleb doesn’t know why; if his wound hurts less, they can follow Nott to the rest of their friends.

Caleb just needs to take a quick nap.

He is used to napping on the road; there’s usually someone snorting in his ear, a different cadence depending upon who was with him. The others would be scattered about the cart, their voices washing over Caleb’s tired body, Frumpkin either curled up against his neck, perched on Yasha’s shoulder, or Fjord’s head, heedless of Fjord’s sneezing. If Caleb concentrates hard enough, he can almost pretend that Beau is beside him, hand slung over his waist. Fjord is driving, Frumpkin meowing primly to whatever curse word Fjord is using. Nott and Jester’s laughter rings down the path, and Molly and Yasha’s quiet conversation is soothing enough to send him back to sleep.

There’s a sharp sting to his face and he jerks his head, pain exploding into his consciousness.

“Don’t sleep,” Yasha hisses.

Caleb blinks and looks around for the others but they’re nowhere to be seen. He’s still on the ground, a headache pounding at the base of his skull. When he looks down his body, there’s a red liquid that he knows too well bubbling up through Yasha’s fingers. “Oh.”

Yasha looks panicked. Caleb can’t remember ever seeing that expression on her face.

“You’re scared.”

Yasha swallows, eyes narrowing. When she meets Cale’s eyes, the irritation gives way to disbelief. “You are dying.”

It’s as blunt as Yasha ever is.

“Probably,” Caleb says. There’s a lot of blood seeping out from under Yasha’s hands. Without Jester, there’s little that can be done. They’re fresh out of healing potions. “Least you won’t forget,” he pauses, gasping for a breath. His chest is tight, and it’s getting harder for him to get the breath he needs. “To get potions again.”

Yasha’s hands clench a little, causing a spasm of pain to cripple Caleb for a moment. “That’s not funny.”

“Wasn’t,” Caleb cuts off again. There’s an occasional painful wrench from his stomach wherever Yasha presses a little too hard, but otherwise, Caleb is comfortably numb. He has the feeling that if he says anything, Yasha will throw him over her shoulder, heedless of his injuries, all the way to Jester. He doesn’t think he could take that. “Meant to.”

“Tell me about Frumpkin,” Yasha says. 

Caleb's eyes go unconfused and he smiles, thinking of Frumpkin. “You like him, ja?”

Yasha nods. There is a faraway look to her eyes. “He reminds me of a time I thought I had forgotten.”

Caleb starts talking, explaining how he first summoned him, how long it’s been. He avoids certain lines of thinking that will lead down paths he doesn’t want to face. He does not want to think about the sadness and darkness in his life. “What do you like most about him?”

Yasha doesn’t often share, but as she stares down at her hands, still pressing against Caleb’s wound, attempting to keep his blood in his body, her lips twitch into a smile. “He is soft.” Giving Caleb an amused look, she adds, “he does not talk.”

The laugh this time is not terrible, though Yasha apologises softly anyway. 

They lapse into a silence, punctuated only by Caleb’s pained breathing, and Yasha’s muttered curses as she scans their surroundings.

Caleb’s always figured he would live a long life; penance for his crimes and things he can’t help but dwell on. If he is to die, he’s always assumed it would be in the pursuit of trying to save his parents. More recently, he’s been equally as content to die protecting his friends. Content is something he’s spent a long time thinking he would never be again. Friends are equally as surprising but no less welcome.

“Thank you,” Caleb says eventually.

“Why?” Yasha doesn’t look at him, her eyes on the treeline. Caleb doesn’t think she’s even heard him properly.

“You’re a good,” he pauses, takes a breath, “friend.”

Yasha finally looks down at him, a shadow in her eyes. “What are you doing?”

Chest heaving, Caleb tightens his grip as much as his tired body will allow. “Please.”

“No.” Yasha adjusts her grip, gritting her teeth visibly as she peers at his wound. “I do not want to hear this. Until they get here.”

Caleb winces as his stomach pulls and his head pounds. It won’t be long. “Don’t think-“ He cuts off as Yasha presses a hand to his face. It’s wet and sticky, but Caleb meets her eyes slowly, blinking so that he can focus. As long as he doesn’t focus on why her hand is wet, he’ll be fine.

“Caleb,” Yasha says his name carefully. “Nott and Jester. They will want to say goodbye.”

It’s costing her a lot to say, Caleb knows. She doesn’t back down from a fight and this is not easy for her to admit. Caleb’s guilt is an almost constant companion, but it seems almost overwhelming in the moment. “Yasha, I can’t.”

“You will.” Again, it was more order than a suggestion. “I cannot explain this to them.”

Caleb’s throat is tight, his head pounding painfully in his chest. He doesn’t want to do this. For the first time in so many years, he doesn’t want to give in and die, but he can’t hold on, so weak and tired. “I can’t.”

Yasha says nothing for a long time. She doesn’t let him go, leaning down until she can press her forehead to his. “You are a strong man, Caleb Widogast.”

Caleb’s laugh is watery and pained, but he manages to pat the side of Yasha’s head gently. “Not. But thanks.”

Yasha sighs, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Stubborn man.”

Caleb will give her that one. There are less painful ways to die, he supposes, but he is glad to be here with a friend. He wishes they were all here. 

“Protect Nott,” Caleb says, hand clenching into Yasha’s fur jacket.

Yasha’s face twists into distaste, reluctance. “Caleb-“

“Please,” Caleb says, drawing whatever energy he has left to talk to her. “Don’t let, mm, Fjord blame himself.”

Fjord is always the first to try and protect them, to make sure they are safe. If one of them dies while he is absent, he will still feel it as a failure. He can’t let this weigh on him.

“Molly and Jester. They are-“ Caleb pauses, closes his eyes as his body spasms with pain, “they made me laugh when,” another pause, another spasm, “I didn’t think I would again.

Yasha's eyes look wet, her fingers tight around Caleb’s. Her other hand is still pressed to his wound, a futile attempt to protect him.

“Beau,” Caleb starts, thinking of his fellow human, the way her secrets seem as heavy as his at times. Though he hopes she will never hate herself as much as he does. “Take care of her.”

“I will.” Yasha’s voice wavers. “All of it.”

Caleb is so, so tired. “You were all good to me when you didn’t-“

It’s dark, Caleb thinks, just Yasha’s blue eyes bright against it. They swim above him, and Caleb welcomes the darkness like an old friend –

- until frantic yells and a crashing sound burst through his calm and he blinks, jerking hard against Yasha’s hold.

“Easy,” Yasha commands, though Caleb doesn’t know whether she is taking to Caleb or whoever is crashing through the trees.

“Caleb!” Jester’s scream is echoed by Nott. “We are coming!”

There’s the sound of twigs snapping and a thud as someone falls to the floor beside him. A familiar blue face appears above him, her eyes wide and scared.

“Oh Caleb,” Jester says, eyes drawn to the wound. So expressive, she looks horrified and scared. If Caleb had energy left, he’s sure it would panic him more. “So squishy.”

Caleb huffs a laugh, vision dark and so tired. Yasha is still holding him as Jester works, muttering under her breath. Nott’s fingers, so familiar, are in his hair.

“Hold on, Caleb.” She’s beautiful. When Caleb tells her so, her eyes widen. “Caleb-“

“I mean it,” Caleb says, feeling something along the skin of his stomach. “Don’t need to change.”

Nott closes her eyes, touching her face to his forehead. “I need you.”

“It’s alright,” Caleb says. A shadow falls over him, and when he can focus, Fjord is hovering above him, an unhappy tilt to his mouth. “Not your fault.”

Fjord says nothing, though there’s a careful look in his eyes. “Keep still. Jester will help.”

“I do not know,” Jester starts, sounding devastated.

The tingle is still there, so Caleb reaches out weakly, touching Fjord’s arm. “Fjord.”

“I hear ya, Caleb,” Fjord tells him.

Caleb believes him.

“Listen,” Caleb needs them all to know. “It’s okay.”

“Shut up, Caleb,” Beau snaps, though Caleb can’t see her. “Less talking if you wanna live.”

Cale opens his mouth.

“Even if you don’t,” came Molly’s response, just as adamant as Beau’s. “You’re not dying here.”

When Caleb meets Yasha’s eyes. She is actually smiling, though it’s tinged with sadness. “Did I not say?”

“Yasha, please move your hand.” Jester’s eyes are bright. Yasha looks reluctant and Caleb appreciates it, but Jester knows what she is doing. He pats her knee and slowly, Yasha draws her hands away from his stomach, though she rests them on his arm. Caleb may have a better relationship with bathing these days, but he’s certain his friends are going to end up dunking him in water if the state of him right now is anything to go by. Providing he makes it out of this.

“Thank you, Yasha,” Caleb says.

Yasha nods tightly, but her eyes are bright when she looks at him.

There’s a long drawn silence, broken only by Jester’s triumphant crow. “There! The Traveller has given me the energy, Caleb. It should hurt less soon.”

Caleb lets out a breath, feeling like he’s been holding it for an age. Exhaustion overwhelming him and he swallows. “Can I sleep?”

Jester nods, touching his face gently. “We will be here when you wake.”

For the first time in years, Caleb lets himself trust in someone else. His friends murmur assents, and he is safe; without hesitation, Caleb closes his eyes, content that he will mend – and wake up – still surrounded by his friends.

[contagious-addiction]

The Adventures of Mollycock Pealeaf and Co. Pt 1

Beaten, bloody, and furious, Beau brought her staff down with a resounding crack atop the remaining magic user’s head. They crumpled into a pathetic heap at her feet as she struck them one more time for good measure, just to vent her anger at being surprised - once again - by an ambush in the middle of the night. It was something she was really starting to get tired of.

Nott was heavily wounded, two large gashes in her sides but still managing to carry herself closer to the rest of the group with her crossbow still notched.

“Yasha? Fjord? Jester?” Beau called over her shoulder after giving Nott a nod, scanning the area for the heads of her companions she’d lost track of in the fray.

The snow obscured their forms over the dip of the hill, but the sound of Fjord’s “We’re alright” Yasha’s “I am fine.” and Jester’s “Right as rain!” seemed to show that they weren't in any harm.

“I think we have, ah… A problem, Beauregard.” Caleb spoke hesitantly from his place on the ground, cloak obscuring what she could only assume was Molly. Beau shifted, her brows pulling together as she frowned, suddenly worried.

“Hah?”

Caleb scratched the back of his head with a strange expression on his face. He looked puzzled but almost... Asmused.

“Mollymauk.” His mouth twitched and he cleared his throat, hiding his grin with the back of his head. “He is a... Bird. For now.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Nott stopped her scavenging of the bodies of the sorcerers around them and watched Caleb stand aside to reveal in all his glory, a lavender peacock with horns and jewelry to match.

Fjord, Yasha, and Jester crested the edge of the snow covered hill just in time to watch Beauregard dopple over in a fit of laughter while Nott brought her silver flask to her lips, drinking deeply in response.

“Why is it always Molly shit happens to.” Beaureguard howled, bent over and clutching her sides in pain and histarea.

The peacock - polymorphed Mollymauk, as Caleb said between his own smirk - seemed to take offence in Beau’s laughter, his feathers lifting as he made a god awful trill of a noise and displayed his wings aggressively at Beau, flapping them and kicking the air in her direction. Snow followed his movements and he sunk lower into the powder before shaking his feathers again and jerking his head to look at the figure of Caleb beside him as if to plead for his defense. He was given no assistance from Caleb, who only lifted and eyebrow and shrugged.

Beau flinched at Molly’s display and brought up her staff, holding it between herself and Mollymauk

“I fuckin’ hate birds.” Beau grouched, glaring at Mollymauk before looking up at Caleb who had contained his previous laughter and was now watching Mollymauk with interest.

“Can’t Jester turn him back with one of her restoration spells?” Nott asked as the rest of the Mighty Nein caught up and took in the sight of Molly.

“Mollymauk will be fine,” Caleb assured them as Jester gasped excitedly, eyeing the new visage of Mollymauk as if he were a cute puppy instead of the distressed form of a polymorphed Mollymauk. “This spell will wear off in an hour or two at most. For now we, ah. Have to keep him from running away or hurting himself. Which should be easy enough.”

“Molly you are so cute.” Jester cooed, rushing up to kneel beside him. Molly blinked at her and tilted his head, fluffing his feathers and raising his tail feathers slightly which were oddly maroon, similar to his coat both in color as well as spotted with the vague symbols of his coat. “I don’t think you’d very warm with your little bird legs in the snow so let me carry you.”

Reaching out for him was a mistake on Jester’s part. Mollymauk raised his legs and wings, pushing off her offered arms in a desperate attempt to distance himself from her embrace.

“Ouch-” Jester rubbed her inner arm where Molly scratched her, pouting as Mollymauk flared his wings and quickly retreated and flead down the snowy hill.

“Shit he’s runnin’-!” Fjord cursed.

“Yasha, grab him!” Beau shouted.

“Oh. Ah. Okay.”

Bending down, Yasha beconed Mollymauk from her place a bit farther down the hill. Molly slowed, but lowered his head and tried to dart past Yasha after a moment of hesitation. It was all over for him in that moment as her hands caught him in a vice grip around both wings in a way that held him secure as well as kept him pinned to the snowy ground. He made a call of distress and eyed Yasha with betrayal in his eyes.

“Got him.” She called as the rest of the group followed suit.

“Mollymauk.” Caleb knelt and Molly’s wide red eyes snapped to attention, training themselves on the wizard warily. “I’m going to cover your head with my jacket. You will feel safer then but you must trust us.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed and his neck bobbed as he took in the sight of his friends.

“Ja, that is good.” Caleb soothed before slipping his battered coat off his shoulders and throwing it over Yasha’s hands.

“Should I-”

“Mm. You can let go Yasha, I’ve got him. Danke.”

With quick hands Yasha released Mollymauk and Caleb replaced her hands with his own, folding the coat around Mollymauk snugly but enough to allow him room to shift if he was uncomfortable.

“There.” Caleb huffed, his breath sending plumes of steam into the air.

“Jeez, you would think he would have been fine with me picking him up…” Jester frowned as she stood beside Caleb. “I can take him now if he’s too heavy for you Caleb.” She offered.

“No, it is fine.” He assured her, shaking his head once before adjusting his grip and holding Mollymauk a bit closer to his chest. He could hear him make a soft crooning trill, which was still loud compared to the volume of the group around him, but not nearly as loud as the near screech he’d sent Beauregard’s way before.

“Yes yes, you are fine now, Circus Man.” Caleb reminded Mollymauk before looking to the rest.

Jester was already tending to the rest of the crew, patching them up with healing words and first aid where it was needed. Luckily Caleb was barely touched, thanks to Mollymauk’s quick reflexes and successful blood maladict. He just was hit in Caleb’s sted with one of the caster’s last ditch spells.

“You make a very good bird Mr. Mollymauk. Very showy.” Caleb said with a grin as he trudged his way back to their cart through the snow. They got a new cart weeks ago after they rescued their friends and Molly had… Well. Caleb tried very hard not to dwell on what transpired then aside the fact they needed to be more careful with the people they make enemies with in the future.

He could hear Molly hiss under his coat and Caleb chuckled softly, carefully adjusting his grip on Mollymauk so his tail feathers weren’t bent awkwardly against his arm.

“I am sorry,” he admitted “I did not think the caster would turn you into - ah - eh. A peacock. Like that. But you will return to normal soon.”

He reached the horses and cart soon enough, climbing into the canvases back of it with Mollymauk as the rest of the party got to their own horses - three of which they’d purchased recently due to the death of their other two horses and release of Loaf after the kidnapping situation.

Settling against a sack of grain they kept for the horses, Caleb settled Mollymauk in front of him and lifted his coat hesitantly.

Molly raised his head with a jerk, glancing around the wagon before seeming to relax.

Satisfied that Mollymauk wouldn’t run off immediately, Caleb sniffed and pulled his coat back over his shoulders since the biting cold was starting to numb his hands, wrapped as they were.

Mollymauk snapped his beak twice, catching Caleb’s attention as he crawled into his lap.

“Ah- wait, Mollymau-“ Caleb protested with his arms up, but it was no use. Molly worked his way into Caleb’s lap, feathers fluffed and tail splayed out behind him in a maroon waterfall of feathers as he made himself comfortable in the crook of his cold legs.

“Okay.” He sighed, resigning himself to a lap full of bird that reminded him strangely of Frumpkin weight wise. Molly adjusted his wings and flared them ever so slightly, and Caleb hesitated for a moment before letting his cold fingers press into the inviting peaks of Molly’s feathers.

He was warm. Not that Caleb thought he would be anything different, but it was still a drastic difference from the ice of his finger tips that his skin felt raw and ached.

Mollymauk barely reacted, just stared outside the wagon as the rest of the Nein saddled their horses and talked amongst themselves. He did however, make an awful crooning call sound that made Caleb jolt and Molly shift in his lap. By the sound of it Mollymauk had caused Beau to fall off her horse, her indignant “Fuck You Molly!” following soon after.

“You stop that.”

Mollymauk turned his attention to Caleb now and if a peacock could look smug, Mollymauk was in fact wearing a shit eating grin. As if to say “now why would I do that”.

With a shake of his head and a gentle brush of his fingers through Mollymauk’s feathers, he turned his attention away from his feathered friend and out the back of the cart as Yasha poised her horse just behind the wagon. Most likely to guard their backs, but mostly to keep an eye on Mollymauk in case he tried any other daring escapes while he was transformed.

“Ready back there Caleb?” Nott’s voice called from the front of the wagon - she must be driving the horses today.

“Ja. We are settled.”

“Let’s move out then.” Fjord called from ahead somewhere.

“Yeah I’m sick of sleeping in the cold,” Jester replied with a sigh “Next town we stop at we’re staying at the nicest, warmest hotel okay?”

“I’m alright with that.” Yasha replied.

“Eh. I mean. We could save up our coin for, I don’t know, diamonds worth 300 gold a piece or something instead.” Nott stressed.

“Now that is a stupid idea.” Jester pouted, and Caleb shook his head with a fond grin. He didn’t have to see her to know she was springboarding off of Nott’s criticism and would make sure they had what they needed by the time they reached any type of situation close to death again.

The cart lurched forward at the snap of Nott’s wrist, and Caleb grasped Mollymauk a bit firmer who slipped in his grasp with a displeased hiss.

“Sorry.” Caleb apologized as Mollymauk settled himself again in the tangle of his legs.

[dunamanticarchivist]

The Munchkin Nein - Mollymawk Tealeaf

Explaining this series

A Mollymawk is a genus of albatross...i honestly have no idea what that means, I am not a taxonomist, I just know it’s something birdy. And I can read wikipedia to get a feel for what they are culturally. Something something sailors and mariners (maybe that explains why he rooms with Fjordy our resident shady sailor)

Anyway, we’re here for the crunch. And admittedly, this character is one of the reasons I got into thinking about this series to begin with, since there has been discussion about how ...well, unimpactful Mollymauk has been in fights. Going to lay out a couple of my thoughts before we actually get into the mechanics.

[Also, edited one day after the post, before M. Mercer decided to whoop dee doo, it’s time to put an end to the naysayers and give the poor Ghostslayer some buffs. And here I was defending Molly as he was; oh well, gonna update the crunch]

First off, if you’re going to compare each character’s output with one another, there can only be one eventual winner and that’s no damn good for anyone. If you compare the options taken as compared to those available, then you’re going to be critiquing on choices and once again, De gustibus non est disputandum, so I’m not gonna go there.

So let’s take a step back and see what Molly has thus far presented himself as and is, from what we can see. I think first and foremost, Mollymauk Tealeaf is a carnie, possibly influenced a great deal by Taliesin Jaffe our pyramidal fey lord and saviour ‘s extensive carnival experience. I will admit, I have never met a carnie, or know what they actually do or are. But from my internet gleaning and perusing (and Talks Machina thank you Brian Cabbage head), I’ve come to think of them as style over substance, highly extroverted and verbose individuals. Competence is optional. Laughter is not. Which really makes for an interesting character, in D&D or real life, I would love to meet a carnie and talk about the meaning of life with them while being as drunk as a sailor on shore leave.

Anyway, back to Mollymauk, there is actually a very recent post on reddit on his actual performance in combat that paints him in a better light, and the usual reddit discussion shenanigans. The one part of that that shifted my view decisively, is the realization that dual wielding is an aesthetic. Molly isn’t a fighter; he isn’t a master swordsman whose blades are an extension of himself nor does he have an instinctive feel for moving his blades in a fashion to cause harm. His scimitars are made out of cheap carnival glass for god’s sake; it's a miracle they haven’t shattered yet. I get a sense that those blades were mostly for show, until they had to be more than that. Still, that isn’t the comfort zone of Molly, who would rather talk and charm his way out of a situation. Which is reflected in his repeated use of Charm Person, Enthrall, and the infamous Vicious Mockery.

So in my opinion, the combat style of Mollymauk reflects his partially revealed backstory. He wants nothing to do with his potentially violent past and is all in on his solely carnival memories. If he could choose, I think he would be a pacifist.

Nonetheless, this is D&D where unless you are an Oath of Redemption paladin, pacifism is not going to be all that attractive since there are so many things that want your hide. So violence it's going to be. With that in mind, that doesn’t always mean you leave behind what you are, going into combat. I can write a whole other series on the human behind the soldier, but that’s for another time, so I’ll just leave this quote from LotR here

“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”                                                                                   -Faramir, The Two Towers

Right so, proper crunch time. Level 5 Tiefling (Devil Tongue Variant), Blood Hunter Order of the Ghostslayer.

Armaments: 2 Scimitars that do 1d6 + 3 (DEX mod) apiece, due to the Two-Weapon fighting style. Two attacks with the main weapon, and using a bonus action, can attack with the second scimitar, giving three strikes tops.

As a bloodhunter, one of the ways to increase your damage output is crimson rites to imbue your weapons with magical damage. In Molly’s case, he has Rite of Dawn and Frozen, to add d4 radiant or cold damage respectively. He will gain an additional option at Level 6, that’s just more versatility, but more importantly the damage die increases to d6 (which on average is worth 1 point more). Having 3 damage types is not really versatile, but not completely one dimensional either. Each rite comes at the cost of 1d4 HP deducted from the maximum that only recovers when the rite is deactivated (he isnt healed by that  d4 when max HP returns)

At the moment however, this makes his scimitars 1d6 +1d4 + 3 if activated. As many have pointed out, it takes 1 bonus action to activate each scimitar and Molly only has 1 bonus action each turn. Also, striking with the second scimitar takes a bonus action. It doesn’t help that many of the blood curse options, one of which we do not yet know when Molly leveled to 5, takes up a bonus action as well.

Speaking of blood curses, the one we do know Molly has used is Blood Curse of the Eyeless, which has saved the asses of many of the Nein by inflicting disadvantage on one or two of the incoming attacks. Being a reaction with 60 feet range has contributed greatly to its usability.

Molly’s archetype of Ghostslayer is a situational benefit that contributes a WIS mod to damage undead creatures (+3), at level 11 this will affect all creatures, but for now, only undead creatures will feel this dual wielding sword swinger’s wrath.

[7/6/18 11pm GMT+1 update: Crimson Rite die is now d6 at level 5 bloodhunter, instead of the d4 mentioned above. Also, the Ghostslayer archetype halves the damage suffered when activating Rite of the Dawn. Considering the damage taken also increased, this is a welcome change (though compared to previously, on average, Molly suffers .75 damage less (rounded up to 1) per activation of Rite of the Dawn, though 1 damage more when using Rite of the Frozen. This downside would have happened anyway at Level 6, but now there’s at least a slight improvement. 

Also, as part of the update, Molly would have the option to switch out Blood Curse of the Eyeless. I suspect he would, based on more metagaming logic of a greater variety of playtesting. So might bring us up to 2 unknown blood curses. There are many many other fascinating options, and we might see them within 4 hours of this update]

A couple of things grant Molly some durability in combat. He took the Feat “Tough” which gives more HP when levelling, so at Level 5, he already has the highest HP total of the Nein. Also, his AC is listed as 15 which implies either studded leather or chain shirt. That’s probably on the lower end for the Nein, but sufficient for combat (i guess? depends on how hot Matt’s dice are). Finally, he purchased the Periapt of Wound Closure, which stabilizes him if he goes down. Also, when he rolls dice to regain HP, the results are doubled. (I’m unsure if it applies to healing done to him, or just healing he does on himself; if its the former I can already see the disaster tiefling combo come to life). 

Edit: I’ve asked around and it appears to be specific to interactions involving self healing with hit dice (d10s for Molly) such as healer’s kit and short rests. Still the point stands. 

Regardless, it allows Molly to function like a glass cannon, just like his swords. Yes he’d take hits, but he’ll return the favour, and the difference is that he won’t break, while the monster will eventually be shredded.

And we move onto the Tiefling part of Molly, which mechanically, has 3 spells. Vicious Mockery, Charm Person and Enthrall. All of them involve the target making a WIS save against Molly’s DC 11 [ 8 + 3 (proficiency) + 0(CHA mod)] and if succeeded, the spell does nothing (which has fuelled the perception that Molly hasn’t done much)

The first is a cantrip, while the latter 2 are level 2 spells that can only be cast once per long rest.

For vicious mockery, failing the WIS save causes the target to suffer 2d4 psychic DMG and suffer DISAD on its next attack roll, functioning as a second blood curse of the eyeless. Of note, this and Enthrall, are the only abilities of Molly at >30 to 60 feet ranges, unless he chooses to pick up a rock and throw it. Not very effective, but definitely worth a laugh.

For Charm Person, up to 2 humanoids can be affected. The WIS save is made with advantage if Molly or the Nein are fighting it (debatable if they are being attacked and not fighting back would negate this). Failing the WIS save imposes the “charmed” condition for one hour, unless the spell ends prematurely or they start harming the target. The charmed condition gives advantage to social interactions checks, which with Molly’s CHA mod of 0, would probably be very helpful. Also, for 1 hour, the target cannot attack Molly with weapons or harmful spells

Finally, Enthrall targets visible creatures of choice. The WIS save is made at advantage if in combat. Failing it gives the target disadvantage to WIS (perception) checks on any creature other than Molly for up to a minute. Once again, probably not a combat spell. But Taliesin did use it successfully against the alligators to distract them temporarily from Kiri, so who am I to judge?

The only thing I could think of for these two spells, is possibly to use them together. So while Molly, this colourful spray of bright clothes, tattoos and energy of a tiefling, charms and enthralls a high value target, the rest of the Nein slaughter their guards and entourage.

So there it is, Mollymauk Tealeaf, performer extraordinaire and occasional sword swinger! I personally think that if this is what Molly is, there could be advantages in going full carnie. Make use of that acrobatics proficiency to climb the head of a giant, wield a scimitar in your tail with that sleight of hand +6, hell juggle swords in combat to look threatening and maybe force a WIS save or two to take the heat off of others. The options are endless outside of the book rules and it is up to Taliesin Jaffe to play out this disaster of a tiefling. Hopefully, Matt is kind in these rulings, to reward good RP which is what everyone is here for.

Fortunately, Taliesin is a very experienced D&D player as demonstrated by his extensive knowledge of other character’s abilities (I think he, Matt and Liam together could probably recite half the rulebook and write out the other half by instinct). If I had to make one mechanical optimization choice, for the next ASI, take a +1 to DEX and +1 to CHA to round that score up and get that bonus. It’s also an upgrade without drastically altering the RP choices that can be made.

Thank you everyone who’s reading and liking this series! It’s almost thursday and I’m pretty excited about the next episode like I always am. Maybe even more so now I’ve got a blog. Might liveblog it idk it’s at like 3am in UK when it goes live so depends on my sloppy schedule.

[dunamanticarchivist]

Post Encounter Reserves C2Ep22

Alright thanks to this post and other similar ones, I think I can start a mini-series where I keep track of what the Nein have at the end of the episode, and maybe a bit of speculation of how much fight they’ve got left in them. Note, mega spoilers so run away if you’re not up to date and wish not to be spoilt. So this one is for after the encounter with the merrow. I might post future ones on Monday when people have caught up in the future though. 

Beau burnt through all her Ki points, but that came back on the short rest they took. She stands at 3 HP + 8 that Jester healed with Prayer of Healing, so 11 HP + however much healed with the short rest. 

Caleb used both his level 3 spell slots, one level 2 slot, one level 1 slot. That leaves him with 3 Level 1s and 2 Level 2s. He also spent the dodecahedron luck point. His HP stands at 20 + the short rest heal. 

Fjord spent both his level 3 slots, but are recovered with the short rest. He has a very healthy 48 HP out of a max of 51 without spending a hit dice to heal during the short rest. However, he has 1 level of exhaustion from voring that thing, thus has disadvantage on ability checks. He should probably not take the lead on scouting (which reminds me, his WIS mod is -2)

Jester, oh poor Jester who’s dice rolls were so bad. Burnt through both level 3 spell slots, as well as her Pearl of Power on another level 3 spell. Spent 3 Level 2s, and 2 Level 1s, leaving her with 2 Level 1 spell slots. And those do not come back on a short rest. The lack of healing is looking dicey for any encounter that the Nein will take. At least she has Spare the Dying to stabilize rather than burning the heal and getting knocked down again. No HP lost thankfully. 

Molly used his one Blood Curse use on curse of the eyeless, does recover it on the short rest. His HP is 32 after Jester’s heals, out of a max of 59 HP. He has however, activated 2 of his scimitars, his max was at one point 49 HP. Sadly they aren’t active any more (presumably dropping the rite while looting), but now he recovers his max HP of 59. He will probably be spending just one or two hit dice to heal, since his Periapt of Wound closure doubles whatever he rolls. 

Nott has spent nothing of note except 1 burning bolt and Fury of the Small. Fury of the Small came back with the short rest. Not sure whether he can recover the enchantment on the bolt once expended. No health lost at all. 

Finally Yasha. Holy crap Yasha came this close to going down. Spent her once per day Healing Hands. Spent 1 rage, 2 left. Did not pop Necrotic Shroud. Magician’s Judge still has Dispel Magic. Her HP pool though, is at 9 (NEIN) after healing, out of a possible 55. Lots of healing needed on the short rest. 

Could they take on the venom troll? Mmmh questionable. Unless Caleb gets the Earthen Grasp restrain or Beau gets a Stunning Strike then disengaging while the rest of them pelt them with bolts, blasts, cantrips, throwing stars and harsh words. If they have to get into melee to maximize their damage (for Molly, Yasha, Beau, maybe Fjord) they are going to take a lot of punishment and the poison output will be devastating to everyone else. Caleb would also have to hit the troll with fire damage every turn to prevent its regeneration. That 100 gold seems lost unless they can sneak into the lair, loot and then run. Would be lovely to see them try though.