widomauk-week-archive

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...and that’s a wrap!

thank you to everyone who put in the time to participate and the community for encouraging each other throughout the week - you are all amazing! when i first put the idea out there for a widomauk week, i was unsure people would even be interested, but y’all have blown me away. i hope everyone’s feeling just as inspired and motivated coming out of this! again, thank you so much for making this all possible!! you guys are incredible!!

remember that we’re still accepting late work, too! the ao3 collection will remain open and i will still be checking the tags for a bit. additionally, if i missed a post of yours - please send a message and we’ll fix that! tumblr loves to not put things in the tags sometimes, so apologies if somethings slipped under the radar.

if widomauk is still around in 2020, we’ll be back again! :)

❤ ♡ ❤ ♡ ❤

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@widomauk-week day 8 - FLOWERS

Caleb works hard. He works hard every day to keep his place in the village. It’s backbreaking, and hand roughening, but he’s learned that the best way to survive in this world is through hard work. His parents instilled it into him when he was a child, so, so long ago in Blumenthaal, where every family did their best to contribute, so they could pay the king’s tax. Clearly – viciously clearly – he could recall when the neighbour’s child was taken away as collateral for the unpaid dues on their farm, how he had clung to his Mutti’s legs, his father’s hand gripping strong into the fabric of his shirt as they watched from the window as the child was dragged away, kicking and screaming, the father (for the mother had died of a fever a few years past) alone, fallen to his knees weeping pitifully.

And so Caleb had worked extra hard, his parents hadn’t had to tell him that what had happened to Julian would easily happen to him should they fall behind.

But that was long, long ago, and now, Caleb works himself to the bone. READ MORE

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The eighth and final oneshot in my Critical Role @widomauk-week  collection is here!

Thank you to everyone for supporting this oneshot collection! I really do appreciate all the love and support it’s gotten. I hope to write more Critical Role fics in the future as well (and one in particular will be connected to today and Day 2′s oneshots)! 

Read the first oneshot here! 

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Last Day of Widomauk Week!

Don’t know why I’m so excited, devastated its ending. Its been so much fun, I feel like a better, more accomplished writer because of this and it’s given me a wonderful sense of community. Thanks so much to @widomauk-week for organising this, its been the first collaborative fan thing I’ve ever taken part in and I loved it!

Final Day- Flowers 

———

Molly sat on the bench outside the courthouse and enjoyed the warmth of the day. The sun was at the perfect height in the sky, perfect and bright as a newly minted gold piece. Rain was on the way to judge by the heavy grey clouds gathering just behind the skyscrapers and the scent in the gathering wind, though Molly didn’t mind that so much. Rain was good. Rain made the grass smell nice and the leaves look sugared and the lamps and headlights come alive and start to dance. Evening rain was the best of all, when you could lie in the dark between waking and sleeping and hear it rap on the windows. It was already late afternoon. Sun in the afternoon, rain in the evening, that was a perfect kind of day.

A perfect day to get married.

They hadn’t intended for it to be today of course. They were still in that uncommitted, airy phase of having no date and no venue but definitely having the intention. But honestly, the thought of facing all of the planning and spending and stress just to throw a party didn’t appeal to either of them.

So when Caleb had murmured, half asleep, face half pressed into Mollymauk’s chest, that he wanted to marry him that day, that very minute if possible, the tiefling had laughed. And he’d said, “Okay.”

And here they were.

Keep reading

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Day 8: the Sun and Moon

i choose to believe the Moonweaver’s Ribbons is an all-day event, not just while it’s dark.

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Happy last day of widomauk week!

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Pairing: Widomauk

Rating: T

Warnings: Fairy tale AU

Preview:

Day 8: The Sun & Moon

“Once upon a time, there was a sun fey. He was bright like sunshine and during the day, he would walk the skies, making sure that no one was left in the shadows for too long. And then there was the moon fey. He was beautiful like a moonbeam and during the night, he would walk the earth, making sure that no one was lost in the darkness.“

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DAY 8 – JUNE 10TH:

Flowers || the Sun & Moon

Last Day! Some lovely celestial parallels to end on 🌙☀

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Poor Molly finds himself with a broken tail in this fic for the @widomauk-week “Healing/Taking Care of” prompt. All the healers might be tapped on magic, but the team wizard has a trick or two up his sleeve.

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I Was sick for all of Widomauk week which sucked! So here! Sun and Moon!

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Day 6: Class Swap/Role Reversal here’s carnie blood hunter Caleb and street magician Molly, let’s pretend i’m not late ^-^”

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Day 7 of @widomauk-week “Healing, Taking Care of” Molly really needs to learn to take care of himself and not worry Caleb so much

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Class Swap/Sleepy Intimacies

(Still behind but I’m working on it! Here’s day 6 of @widomauk-week !)

Caleb slumps, exhausted, onto Molly’s bed.

“Long day at work, love?”

Caleb just groans, face down on their pillows. His impact disturbed the notebooks, textbooks, and loose paper Molly has strewn everywhere but Molly doesn’t mind, he wasn’t really studying anyway.

Caleb lifts his head, frowning at a rogue piece of paper that got stuck to his forehead but not bothering to remove it.

“I don’t know how you get any work done with all these disorganized… I hesitate to even call them notes,” Caleb shakes his head, knocking off the paper and grabbing it to read, “What does this even say? Is this Common or Infernal?”

Molly leans over, squinting at his own handwriting. “Mix of both?”

“How?”

Molly shrugs, grinning. “I dunno, it works for me.”

Caleb blinks in disbelief then shakes it off, accepting that he’ll never fully unravel the enigma that is Mollymauk Tealeaf. He sits up and squeezes in between Molly and the headboard, putting his chin on Molly’s shoulder and looking down at the incomprehensible arcane gibberish in the book he’s pretending to read. There’s marks all over the page, from underlines to arrows to scrawled words in the margins, which makes Caleb’s book loving heart slightly enraged, but he knows that Molly needs all the help and short cuts he can get to glean any information from these heavy tomes.

Molly has never been much of a reader, which makes his career choice of wizard seem completely absurd and out of his depth. Still, there’s something undeniably appealing about magic, the ability to take the threads that make up reality, wind them around your fingers, and pull until it resembles the world of your dreams. Even if it means he has to spend hours studying and copying obscure scripts. Even if it means struggling to keep up with his studious peers.

Caleb supposes he can’t really criticize Molly’s career choice, considering his own choice to align himself with Bloodhunters despite being a small, squishy man. For Caleb, his psychical capabilities are irrelevant; he will stop at nothing to invoke some sense of justice in this world by hunting down the root of the undead rot their society suffers under. Even if it means he comes home battered and bruised, covered in as many scars from his own blade as he has from the blades of strangers. Even if it means sacrificing parts of his already diminished humanity.

Caleb takes a deep breath, clearing his mind of blood, blades, and bruises. He turns his attention back to Molly, hoping he’ll be able to drown out the fears and guilt slowly eating away at Caleb.

“Have you learned anything interesting lately?”

“Mm, you know how it is. Lots of words, lots of writing. Although, I can do this now.”

Molly waves a hand in front of his face and then it’s Caleb’s face smiling back at him. The smile looks… wrong, much broader than Caleb’s usual small, restrained smile. It’s a very Molly expression on a face not at all built for it.

“That’s pretty good.”

Molly-Caleb winks at Caleb-Caleb before the illusion dissolves, replaced by Molly’s devilish smile and the horns to match.

“Thanks. What about you? Hunt down any monstrous monsters lately?”

“Same as usual. Dead things dragging themselves out of graves. There was an undead toad today.”

“A toad? Couldn’t you crush that with your foot?”

“It was ten feet tall.”

Molly laughs hysterically, like he does when he’s drunk or Caleb’s managed to tell a good joke. Caleb rolls his eyes, stifling a snicker of his own. Molly is easily entertained, though, to be fair, it does sound a little ridiculous.

Through tears of laughter, Molly barely pulls himself together and says, “Oh, you poor thing. Did it get your arm?”

Caleb grunts, unhappy to see that Molly noticed his injured left arm even after he’d covered the painful bruises.

“Here,” Molly sets his book on the side table, turns to move behind Caleb, and maneuvers him onto his lap, “I’ll give you a massage.”

“You don’t know how to give massages.” Caleb gives Molly a doubtful look over his shoulder but doesn’t resist, trusting and tired enough to relax into Molly’s hands.

“Pretty sure I just rub your back and you eventually feel better.”

Caleb laughs like music, gracing Molly’s ears. It’s a beautiful, rare little sound and Molly wishes he knew the spell to capture it in a bottle and replay it whenever he wants.

He’s concentrating so much on keeping his nails out of the way, not pressing too hard, and kneading the tension out of Caleb’s muscles that Molly doesn’t notice Caleb falling asleep until his full dead weight falls back on him. Smiling softly, he extinguishes the floating, dim lights with a snap of his fingers, clears some notebooks off the bed, and pulls the covers up over him and Caleb

As soon as he lays down, Molly realizes he’s just as tired as Caleb is, days of late night reading taking its toll and leaving him just as worn out as he would be if he’d fought a ten foot toad.

Caleb is already snoring against his chest, gentle vibrations and steady white noise lulling Molly to sleep.

Molly’s half-opened eyes glow in the dark, glancing once more around their room and down to Caleb’s face. He’s smiling in his sleep, hopefully enjoying a rare good dream.

That smile, that face, that warmth against him.

That is magic.

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The seventh of my Critical Role oneshots for the @widomauk-week event is now posted!

Spoiler warning—this fic is a bit of a canon-divergent take on Episodes 26-28 of Critical Role, Campaign 2. 

I hope you enjoy reading it!

Read the first day here!

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Pairing: Widomauk

Rating: T

Warnings: Canon compliant, Ep 55 Spoilers

Preview:

Day 7: Ashes

He tastes ashes in his mouth.

There’s a whisper in his ear and he can sense the beginning of a spell being woven around him. The magic winds around him and Caleb thinks to fight it but then a brief glance back and he sees the impossible.

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[Image description: a colored pencil drawing of Caleb and Molly from Critical Role. Molly is a lavender tiefling with purple hair, dark purple horns, and red eyes. He is wearing a low-cut white shirt, dark blue pants, and thigh-high boots. Caleb is a pale man with ginger hair and a scruffy beard. He is wearing a gray shirt and brown pants with boots that end halfway up his calf. They are sitting on a green couch, and Caleb is sleeping with his head on Molly’s shoulder. Molly has his arm around Caleb and he is kissing him on the top of the head. End image description.]

Widomauk Week Day 5: sleepy intimacies! Because my brain does not work sometimes (mostly because I spent all of yesterday watching Between The Sheets), I forgot to post this! Please accept this late art, and never mind Molly’s arms.

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[Image description: a colored pencil drawing of Caleb and Molly from Critical Role. Caleb is a pale man with chin-length ginger hair, a scruffy beard, and very blue eyes. He is wearing a gray tunic and black pants. Molly is a lavender tiefling with short purple hair, dark purple horns, and red eyes. He is wearing a brown shirt and black pants. They are sitting in the floor of a blue tent. Caleb is sitting cross legged, and Molly has his legs pulled up to his chest with his hands on his knees. Caleb has one hand on top of Molly’s hand, and he is smiling slightly. Molly looks apprehensive. End image description.]

Day 6 of Widomauk Week: Healing, taking care of. This is a scene from a fic I’m working on, in which Yasha rescues Caleb from the scene of his burning home (killing Ikithon in the process) and brings him to join the circus. Eventually, as you might have guessed, Molly comes along and Caleb helps Yasha look after him while he’s new. It’s a bit of a stretch but I really wanted to draw this scene and Widomauk Week gave me an excuse!