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dent-de-leon · 1 year

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Kingsley sinking to his knees for both Caleb and Essek. Worshipping his Magician with reverent touches and tender kisses, melting into his arms after being starved for affection for far too long. Adrift in a sea of shattered memories.

The keeper of clandestine trysts taught him prayer was a stolen kiss, laying his heart bare to another under the cover of shadow. Stealing away into his lover's chambers like a thief in the night, warming him all through the bitter Zemnian winter.

Caleb is always soft with him. Gentle. Careful hands combing through his hair, trailing down his spine. Lips pressing soothing kisses along his brow, his freckles, the old scars branching across his throat. Holds Kingsley close enough to hear his beating heart, as though to reassure himself that he is alive and whole. King--Molly--still remembers, is the thing. That moment when Caleb's flicker of magic flowed through him, the first breath of air in his lungs. Caleb willing life back into him.

It makes his Magician's every burning touch feel surreal. Sacred. These gentle, calloused hands that once held his soul. Baring the core of your heart to another is such a heady rush of surrender. Caleb had already witnessed him tear himself apart and stitched back the seams. He held terrifying power over him--yet never once hurt him.

Words are too tricky. Heavy. They lodge in his throat with every tentative touch and warm embrace. Acts of service were familiar, grounding. Easier to swallow than choking on the acrid taste of "sorry"--"Empty"--spilling out over and over. He would rather chase the nightmares away with the fervent passion of a devouring kiss, mouth it over the tender skin of aching wounds. Letting Caleb shower him in love and adoration. Basking in his softness and light until it feels like forgiveness.

Months have passed since Lucien's end. And still the image of his Magician's bloodied body haunts him. Makes him remember why he tore himself apart at the very end. It's gutting, that Caleb deigns to look at him with such warmth, tracing tender hands over every tattoo and scar with enamored reverence.

Essek tries to mirror his motions, still uncertain, still learning the steps in this dance. But King finds it easy to drop a kiss at his forehead, smooth away all the tension from aching, knotted muscle; coax him to rest with a few lingering touches and bated breaths.

And if Caleb cares about him, is happy with him--then King will gladly show his gratitude, whisper his thanks between the barest brush of fingertips and breathless little sighs. Stealing every word from the drow's clever tongue, rendering him dazed and moonstruck.

He thinks he saw the elf before, in the bleeding edges of another stolen memory. Mingling with the sensation of Caleb's lips on his forehead, a strand of hair delicately tucked behind his ear. Everything fading as his body goes cold. He thinks he saw the drow crying. For Caleb. For him. Shedding tears for this stranger he never knew. The monster who tore apart the man they both loved not moments before.

Molly presses the softest kisses to mottled scars where bone wings clawed through. Pours his love into every trembling touch. A warm bath. Silken sheets. A kiss that tastes too much like regret. Fingers clumsily intwined, soft lips on fever warm skin. Devotion as a ritual of loving adoration.

It is an unnerving thing, to be both intimately familiar and a stranger. Yet Caleb still welcomed him into his home. They both let him into their lives. He is here, and he is loved. It's an honor he doesn't dare believe he deserves.

Kingsley soft and sweet and wanting. Nuzzling into the crook of his Magician's neck with a warm rumble in his chest, tail idly curling to trail along Essek's forearm. Caleb absently stroking his hair in immense fondness, murmuring gentle reassurances as King turns prayer into an ardent caress. The soft, breathless chuckle of exasperated adoration. "Good boy."

And when he goes to leave for the night, to disappear like he did back in Darktow, a hand with as many scars as his own reaches for him. Anchoring him. And then there is a lighter touch, Essek rubbing slow, soothing circles at his back.

"Stay," Caleb pleads.

He shouldn't. He shouldn't. An errant memory flickers to the forefront of his mind, lying sprawled out on his back in the bed Caleb made for him--for Mollymauk. Staring up at the riot of color and velvet drapes glinting with silvery moons, the slightly askew portrait of a four-lead-clover hanging in the corner. "I should go," he thinks, this ugly, traitorous part of him. "I can't indulge this weakness any longer--"

Time to run. It's what he does best.

And yet. He doesn't dream when he drifts off in Caleb's arms, doesn't wake screaming with the distant memory of otherworldly black chains. Lucien's blood burning in his veins.

"Just for the night," he concedes.

#widomauk #shadowidomauk #shadowgast #mollymauk #caleb widogast #kingsley tealeaf

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critter-rarepair-reccs · 1 month

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Hello all! Hope your Wednesday has been well so far. This week we have fourteen fics featuring various different polyamorous ships! As always, you can find them below the cut and if you check any of them out, I encourage you to leave kudoes and comments to spread the rarepair love 💕

gilded mischief by annie_blackbird (20,437 words, Explicit) Pairing: Yussa Errenis/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidoyussa) Warnings: Consensual Somnophilia, Safeword Use, Mentions of Slavery

Caleb and Essek spend a night with Yussa, with Caleb under the effect of a sleeping potion. After some discussion, the night progresses with Essek as Yussa's very good boy.

Reccer Says: *grabs you by the shoulder* you need to read this fic. Even if you're not already aboard the Shadowidoyussa ship. It will convert you. It is so soft. It is so hot. Like, the perfect balance of tooth-rotting fluff and scorchingly hot smut. Yussa is Exandria's softest dom and I adore him. Essek is a sweetheart doing his very best and I'm holding him in my hands. Caleb is asleep but the ways he's still a present influence on the story through Essek's POV is absolutely wonderful. Please read it, you will not regret it.

can't you see yourself by my side? by ryseling (7,519 words, Explicit) Pairing: Fjord/Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast (Widofjorester) Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Under-negotiated Relationship

Fjord and Jester are together, and Caleb - hopelessly in love with them as he is - agrees to a threesome. Porn with feelings, Caleb POV.

Reccer Says: Very well written in terms of style. Everyone also feels very in character.

Hearts Full of Light by kaeda (5,032 words, Mature) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Fjord/Eadwulf Grieve/Jester Lavorre Warnings: None

The nein & friends are restoring the blooming grove after Trent's attack in 141. Mostly lighthearted as Jester meddles & matchmakes. POV alternating between Fjord and Jester.

Reccer Says: Jester/Astrid/Fjord/Eadwulf is such an underrated rarepair.

all glittering things by quinn_of_aebradore (32,418 words, Teen) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: Minor Canon Character Death

"Essek Thelyss, prodigious dunamancer and crown Prince of Rosohna. Caleb Widogast, illustrious court mage for the Lord Eadwulf Grieve of Blumenthal. Mollymauk Tealeaf, Opal of Nicodranas, fourth child of the Tealeaf Estate. What happens when affection escapes the bounds of propriety and courting? What comes once a kiss has been bestowed? A romance draped with light and honey, of course."

Reccer Says: I just love this entire AU so much so I'm cheating and reccing the whole thing lol... it's so well done and thoughtfully constructed, and they're sooo lovey dovey and pining and flirty ugghggh - bonus: the lucien vs essek part makes me especially feral 🤣💜

Kisses by the Road by Clare_Hope (6,351 words, Teen) Pairing: Dorian Storm/Fearne Calloway/Dariax Zaveon/Opal Warnings: Alcohol

Fearne wins the drinking contest in Byroden and requests kisses as her prize. Polyamory and shenanigans ensue.

Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!

I dream of you amid the flowers by glittergarbage (66,967 words, Explicit) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: Dirty Talk, Smut, AFAB NB Molly, Threesome

"In which Mollymauk comes back to his body, minus a few memories, at the Blooming Grove. Essek is intrigued. Caleb is glad."

Reccer Says: I LOVE THIS FIC SM.... it's such a perfect post-canon depiction of the slow, realistic, exciting, curious unfolding of their relationship, and I love their characterizations and dynamics 🥰🥰🥰 it's a SWM classic to me

First Light by the_deep_magic (5,673 words, Explicit) Pairing: Ashton Greymoore/Orym/Dorian Storm (Dashrym) Warnings: None

Ashton wakes up while Orym is doing his morning exercises, which they find Very Sexy. Dorian, already awake, agrees and the two of them pretend to be asleep until Orym is done and they can have sex about it.

Reccer Says: Domestic Dashrym, hot smut, and a very well-written Ashton POV 💕

locked in here with us by wanderingbasilisk (3,002 words, General) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: None

"a dragon, a damsel in a tower, a knight in shining armor you can guess how this goes ;)"

Reccer Says: Love a fairytale AU! It's just so sweet and fun and adorable and there's a little sprinkle of angst in there which is sooo good 💜🧡💜 delightful and heartwarming

in the light of long-dead things by Anonymous (3,426 words, Teen) Pairing: Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Blumenshadow) Warnings: PTSD, Panic Attacks

While spending the night in Caleb’s tower, Astrid gets thrown into the past.

Reccer Says: God, the way this one has Stuck with me since I first read it. The visual of Astrid squeezing herself under the nook by the stairs is burned into my brain. Her panic, Wulf coaxing her back to herself and the present, her reactions to Caleb and Essek, it’s all so heartaching and wonderful, I love it so much.

to be in someone else's coat by jaskofalltrades (1,369 words, General) Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Shadowidomauk) Warnings: None

Widomauk/Pre-Shadowidomauk where Molly and Caleb were the ones to walk Essek home from dinner at the Xhorhaus

Reccer Says: Listen SWM canon molly lives AU is a wonderful and rare creature and this is one such example that gave me the warm cozies... also I LOVE WHEN THEY FLIRT AAAA 💜💕

Where I am going you can't save me by thesweetpianowritingdownmylife (20,461 words, Teen) Pairing: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha Nydoorin (Beauyashter) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Vomiting, Blood

Yasha starts coughing up petals, white and blue. There is no doubt to whom they belong. Aka Beaujasha Hanahaki AU. Set after episode 89.

Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!

keep following the heartlines on your hands by floralprintshark (8,014 words, Teen) Pairing: Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast (Widofjolly) Warnings: None

Five times Molly tries to set up Fjord and Caleb with each other and one time Molly gets set up with them.

Reccer Says: I enjoyed it!

We also have two reccs for: the stranger who was your self by Demenior (60,045 words, Mature) Pairing: Fjord/Eadwulf Grieve/Jester Lavorre Warnings: Power Dynamics

Eadwulf joins Fjord & Jester's crew as they sail the Lucidian. POV alternating between the three leads. Fjord and Jester are about to embark on a high-seas adventure...and Eadwulf shows up and insists on joining their crew. They don't know what he's plotting (or what he's running away from,) but that won't stop them from flirting with him until they find out.

Reccer 1 Says: I enjoyed it! Reccer 2 Says: Adorable Fjorester flirting. All the sexual tension of that one sword fight between Fjord and Eadwulf. Unstoppable force (Jester Lavorre) meets immovable object (the world's most miserable, wretched wet dog of a scourger.)

And we have three reccs for: amongst the things left unforgiven by nonwal (63,958 words, Mature) Pairings: Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve/Essek Thelyss, Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve/Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast (Blumenshadow) Warnings: Panic Attacks, Discussions of Suicidality/Euthenasia, Temporary Character Death, Suicidal Ideation

Astrid and Eodwulf start visiting Essek in Rosonah to keep an eye on him, then Essek starts visiting them at Caleb's tower in Rexxentrum to keep an eye on them. They dance around eachother in conversation out of mutual distrust (and flirting) long enough to save Essek from himself and fall in love about it. Astrid and Eadwulf take it upon themselves to save Essek from himself. Two scourgers show up at Essek's home to interrogate him about the Mighty Nein. Then he discovers that both of them are also uselessly pining over Caleb. Then, he gets closer than advisable.

Reccer 1 Says: the character dynamics and banter are absolutely top notch. the author really nails the character voices. Reccer 2 Says: I enjoyed it! Reccer 3 Says: An alternate ending to C2 with a great balance of intrigue, angst, slow-burn romance, and fluff (if you can count three wizards lying to each other for fun as fluff.)

Thank you for joining us this week’s recc list! All the love to everyone who submitted a fic 💕 All enclosed recommendations were submitted by the community via our submissions form, which you can find here. All fic information is as it was provided by the reccer, so it may not be accurate to the author’s intent or the precise contents of the fic itself. Please assume good intent from all parties 💕

Submissions for next week’s list are already open! We’ll be featuring Enemies to Lovers. If you have any you’d like to highlight, you can send them in here. The week after that, the theme is Miscommunication and the weeks after that we’re taking recommendations for Works in Progress and Angst! Submissions for all of these themes are currently open.

If you want more rarepair fic, check out @cr-summer-wildflowers and their event collections on ao3! If you want some friendship after all this romance, take a look at @critter-genfic-events and their recc lists! And if you’re interested in everyone’s favorite wizards, you can’t go wrong with the lists at @aeor-is-for-reccing !

Thanks all and have a lovely day/night/timezone! 💕

#critter rarepair recc lists #shadowidoyussa #widofjorester #astrid x fjord x eadwulf x jester #fjord x eadwulf x jester #astrid x eadwulf x essek #blumenshadow #shadowidomauk #dashrym #dorian x fearne x dariax x opal #beauyashter #widofjolly

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thelavendersquid · 7 months

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Nine Eyes to Feel With

Tickletober Day 5: "I'm not ticklish"

Summary: Lucien hears laughter echoing through the caverns and goes to investigate. The Nein weren't planning on springing a ticklish ambush today, but they're certainly not about to turn down the opportunity when it shows up on their doorstep.

Or, local all-seeing tiefling finds himself more ticklish than he expected.

Set right after Weak Spots

Fandom: Critical Role (The Mighty Nein)

Words: 2.7K

AO3 Link

A/N: This idea lodged itself in my brain as soon as I finished yesterday’s fic and would not leave until I brought it to life. I have a lot of feelings about Lucien, including the firm opinion that he is just as deathly ticklish as we all know Molly was. So here we are.

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The sound of laughter echoing through the caverns is not something Lucien hears often on his trips to Aeor. His head jerks up as he hears it and he turns to Cree, sitting across from him, with a frown. She looks off into the distance, Tabaxi ears twitching as she processes the sound, then back up at Lucien. “It’s not far away.”

Lucien pushes himself up, pulling out a scimitar as he does so. He hesitates a moment, debating internally whether this is a trap, and then glances over at Cree again. “Be on your guard.” Cree gives a nod and follows after him down the tunnel.

A few short minutes later, Lucien’s eyes - all of them - fall on the source of the sound. The opaque, grayish-colored dome that signals the temporary home of The Mighty Nein. And coming from within, the sound of hysterical laughter. Ah. But of course.

Cree hangs back as Lucien approaches the dome. His eyes flash as he attempts to see inside, but he can only make out a few moving shapes. They seem to all be piled on top of one of the shapes, which looks like it’s…wiggling?

Lucien takes a step back and tilts his head at the dome, observing it with silent confusion. The laughter is still coming through - occasionally it becomes stifled or muffled, only for another peal of unrestrained laughter to break through seconds later. This is very strange, even for this group of adventurers.

“What is it?” Cree whispers from behind him.

Lucien takes another step back towards her, but his eyes never leave the dome. “I’m not exactly sure.” He backs away until he reaches a rock off to the side, and sits down. Finally he tears his gaze away just long enough to give a quick glance in Cree’s direction. “Get some rest. We’ll be staying here for now.”

Cree makes her way over towards the rock and sits down on the ground. Lucien’s focus snaps right back to the dome and his head tilts the other direction as he stares at it, confused and yet transfixed.

It’s only a minute or so later that the laughter stops. Lucien blinks and sits back, crossing his arms and still staring at the dome.

There’s a sudden shuffling from inside the dome as, Lucien assumes, its occupants realize he’s sitting there staring at them. A long minute goes by. Lucien can hear whispers from inside - along with muffled giggles that seem to still be trailing off. He tilts his head again, picking at his nails.

A head pops through the dome, followed quickly by several others. And then there they are - all seven of The Mighty Nein stepping out of the dome in front of him. He raises his eyebrows at them, still cleaning dirt out from under his nails.

The group looks like they’re preparing for a fight, putting hands on weapons and generally looking antsy. Lucien supposes he’d better smooth things over. That’s not what he came here for, not tonight at least. He stands up nonchalantly and holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. “Ah-ah-ah, no need for all that. I was merely confused by the sound of laughter coming from within these tunnels. I tracked you all the way from another cavern - you were being quite loud. You’re lucky it was us who heard you and not any number of other creatures.”

To Lucien’s surprise, a few of the group actually break into grins at this. Jester, who is grinning brightly, says, “Oh, we were just tickling Essek!” She gestures over her shoulder - and ah, there’s the honorary eighth member of the group, that drow elf. Lucien had almost forgotten they brought him along.

The elf - Essek - is a lovely shade of magenta and looks mortified, even as he is currently bent over, coughing, and seems to be stifling…is that more laughter? Lucien tilts his head again as a hint of a smirk twists onto his own face.

“I see. Well, lovely to know the path you all are on, I wouldn’t want to run into any more nasty traps you’ve so rudely set for us. Although if you keep on at this volume, it doesn’t seem like we’ll need to worry about that.” He catches Essek’s eye and flashes him a smirk - it works wonders at making the elf look like he’d rather the ground swallow him here and now. The grins begin to fade from the others’ faces too.

Lucien reaches his hands above his head lazily, arching his back and stretching. “We’ll be on our way then. See you soon.” He flashes them another wicked smile and turns away, back towards the tunnel.

A voice cuts him off. Beauregard, suddenly emboldened, steps forward. “Are you ticklish, Lucien?”

Lucien stops in place. He turns slowly back to face them and meets the monk’s gaze. She’s staring him, something determined in her eyes. Lucien raises his eyebrows again.

“I’m afraid not. No trace of that in my blood.”

“Are you sure?” Beauregard presses forward, taking another step closer.

“Aye, quite sure.” Lucien gives a shrug and holds his arms out to the sides. “Go on, give it a try, far be it from me to deprive you of satisfying your curiosity.”

Beauregard steps forward. Behind her, Caleb, Essek, Fjord and Caduceus look worried. “Beau, wait, it’s probably a trap-“

Beau ignores them and walks confidently up to Lucien. He stares at her, calm as can be. Beau studies him for a moment. Then, never breaking eye contact, she reaches out, latches onto his side, and gives it a squeeze.

And Lucien doesn’t catch himself fast enough to stop the involuntary jump away from the sensation he did not expect.

Beau’s eyebrow twitches up. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Lucien says, voice carefully smooth. “Your hands are cold.”

“We’re in an ice cavern.” Beau’s tone is blunt. Her hand is still on his side. She squeezes it again.

Lucien jumps again. He quickly grabs Beau’s hand and pushes it away. He looks rattled for the first time since the group has met him. A wicked grin slides onto Beau’s face.

Lucien takes a careful breath, composing himself. Okay, so that felt strange. But it’s nothing he can’t handle. Back away, say something intimidating, walk off head held high, never deal with it again-AH!

Lucien jumps almost a foot and spins around, indignantly - to find Jester, grinning, from where she snuck around behind him. And apparently stuck her claws under his coat to poke his ribs.

This is not going well.

There’s a tense pause as Lucien stares at the group and they stare back at him. Grins matching Jester and Beau’s are growing on the others’ faces. One of Lucien’s eyes slides over to glance at Cree - who is watching this from afar with a hand over her mouth, clearly smiling. Lucien starts to say something to her. He’s interrupted before he gets very far.

As Jester, Beauregard, and Veth all spring towards him as one.

Lucien dodges sideways and throws his hands out to block them. He manages to deflect Jester, but Beauregard has deadly aim and Veth slips right underneath his arms. Their fingers slide underneath his coat and find purchase on his sides and stomach, squeezing, wiggling, poking. A startled laugh slips out of Lucien as he stumbles backwards.

Fjord, Caleb and Essek exchange a horrified glance behind the others. Caduceus chuckles and steps forward - just as Beau call over her shoulder, “Yasha! Come help me hold him babe, he’s a squirmy one!”

Squirmy is an understatement for what Lucien is currently doing. He’s flailing around like a cat being given a bath, limbs everywhere, fingernails raking down any patch of skin he can manage to reach, tail whipping behind him like a baton, practically hissing. And fighting a desperate - losing - battle to keep the laughter that’s bubbling up his throat at bay.

Yasha pushes forward to join the others in the fray. Lucien hisses at her arrival and reaches frantically behind him - whether to grab for her or for his sword, Yasha can’t tell. She doesn’t give him a chance - as Beau grabs his arm to keep him from successfully reaching her, Yasha grabs him firmly around the midsection and holds on tight - sending her fingers crawling up to scratch just below his armpits, right in the spot she knows used to make Molly howl.

It has a similar effect. Lucien yells out and throws himself forward - but is stopped by both Yasha’s arms and Beauregard and Jester in front of him. Instead he opts to curl up as tight as he can, trying to block their access - as the laughter finally pours out of him. It starts off scratchy, rusty from disuse, but warms up quick as Yasha’s fingers keep wiggling in that stupid fucking spot - until he’s laughing too hard for words in a way that is all too familiar to the Nein.

Cree can’t hold back her own laughter at the sight. This is the best thing she’s seen in months.

Fjord glances over at Caleb again. “Well shit, I guess we’re doing this.”

“We have a death wish,” Caleb agrees. But there’s a hint of a grin on his face and he steps forward all the same. Fjord and Caduceus follow.

Lucien’s struggle to get away renews with great force as Fjord, Caleb and Caduceus descend towards him. He flails again, beating against Yasha with his tail and lashing out with his claws towards Jester, Veth and the approaching trio. To no avail, as they hold him tight. Instead he resorts to death threats, spitting out, “I will kill you! Don’t test me!” It’s not particularly menacing through his laughter.

Jester laughs along. “You were already going to kill us! I’m not stopping just because of that!”

Veth, currently squeezing at his knees, laughs too. “How’s that anti-magic cone working for you now? I bet you’re wishing for an anti-fingers cone!”

Lucien is going to kill her first. As soon as he manages to stop laughing.

Caleb and Fjord have slid their way into the little group surrounding Lucien by this point, and their fingers make contact with his sides and stomach - as Caduceus reaches in between Yasha to pinch up and down his back. Lucien is lost in laughter again. He arches away from Caduceus’ desperately - only to bring himself closer to everyone else, which makes him flail wildly without any plan. He hisses at them through his laughter - which only serves to make everyone laugh at him again.

Jester grabs his tail as it goes whipping past her. She giggles and signals for the others to slow their assault a bit. Which they do, allowing Lucien a moment to pant for breath - but careful to still keep their fingers twitching enough to prevent him recollecting his strength and shoving them off. Jester holds up Lucien’s tail where he can see it. “Hey Lucien, check this out!” She brings her claws down onto his tail, right where the tip connects, and scratches.

Lucien shrieks, there’s no other word that could be used for the sound that leaves his mouth. Every sense he possesses is on overload. There’s nothing but a swirling of colors behind his eyes - all of them. He can’t see, he can’t hear, he can’t feel anything except that torturous feeling on his tail that he needs to stop right now. His arms flail and reach desperately for Jester, trying to grab something, anything to make her stop that scratching. He pitches forward with such force that he slips right out of the hold Beau and Yasha have on him and heads straight for the ground.

Jester, unfortunately, expected this reaction and maintains her grip on his tail as she eagerly follows him to the ground. Lucien resigns himself to his fate and to the sea of mirth that has swallowed him. He’s laughing too hard to even think coherently anymore. He can barely register Jester laughing along with him - and behind her, the rest of the group appears to be laughing at him again.

“Bad spot?” Fjord calls after him. He glances over, grinning, at Cree - who is openly laughing at this sight too, though she looks horrified at the same time.

Jester is giggling. “Wow, Lucien, looks like you are ticklish after all! Did you lie to us?” Lucien does not respond, still thrashing side to side and trying to yank his tail out of her hands even as he’s lost in laughter.

Jester slowly eases off his tail, letting him pull it away. She grins down at him. “Or did you not know?”

There’s no response of course. Instead, Lucien curls up in a ball on the ground. It takes him a beat to realize the tickling has stopped - and no one is holding onto him anymore. They’re all just staring at him on the ground.

Lucien launches himself to his feet, and for a split-second the little group sees their life flash before their eyes as he spins towards them. But as Lucien lunges forward, he realizes in horror that all that laughter has done something to him - he can’t quite coordinate his limbs, he’s been weakened. And before he can react to counter-balance…he stumbles forward and lands back on the marble floor.

Beauregard, laughing, is on him in a flash, pinning him down. She looks over at Jester. “Of course he didn’t know, he thought he didn’t have a single weakness. Too bad he’s ticklish as fuck and we know all his worst spots.” She punctuates this with a sudden scribbling of fingers under Lucien’s arms, making him yell out - and to his dismay, he’s laughing again.

“You could have told me!” Lucien yells from underneath Beau’s nimble fingers. “What happened to telling people things you know about them!”

Beau glances down in surprise, even as Veth - who has appeared next to them to re-join the attack - says, with a smirk, “So much more fun to show you though.” Beau tilts her head, watching Lucien as he dissolves back into laughter. There was something almost playful in his tone just then - and now, as she watches, there’s something she can just catch in his eyes and the grin that splits his face that looks almost…genuine. No longer as forced. In fact, he almost seems to be leaning into the touch instead of fighting to get away. Beau blinks in surprise. That’s unexpected.

Beau backs off slightly, fingers slowing as she pulls back into a seated position. Lucien’s eyes meet hers for a split second. There’s a pause, just for a beat. And just like that, whatever she saw is gone. Lucien is back to flailing around like an angry cat, hissing and spitting and thrashing and desperate to get away. He’s shoved whatever that was away.

Interesting. Beau will file that away for later. For now, she turns and gestures to the others. And the little group goes back to extracting every bit of laughter they can manage to get out of the flailing purple tiefling - very aware this will be their only chance to do anything remotely like this ever again.

It’s only a minute or so later that Lucien finally manages to coordinate his limbs enough to wrestle himself out from underneath them again. This time he’s prepared - he yanks his scimitars out, draws himself up to his full height, and stares them down.

No one follows him this time. They hold their hands up in peace - still grinning at him. Lucien gives them all a ferocious scowl, shoves the scimitars back away, and draws his coat around him without a word - looking for all the world like a disgruntled cat. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it. Instead he gives them another glare, spins on his heel, and stalks off down the tunnel without a word.

Cree stands up to follow after him. She gives a glance over to the Nein, a mixture of horrified and very, very amused. They flash her bright grins in return. Cree looks away quickly and follows Lucien down the tunnel.

A moment later, Lucien’s ice-cold voice comes from down the tunnel - “What are you grinning about?!”

There’s Cree’s purring voice in return - too soft for the group to make out what she said, but with a teasing enough tone for them to have a pretty good idea. Lucien is silent.

The Nein catch each other’s eyes and burst out laughing.

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saphirered · 1 year

Note

It is incredibly late (or early?) Where i live so excuse me if this is rambely.

I got an idea for a Lucien/Mollymauk/Kingsley request. And im Hoping once i have it out in the open I'll be able to sleep.

Basically Lucien and the reader were partners when his soul was scattered the same happened to the reader. They both woke up being buried with no recollection of who they were. Once they meet each other in the Mighty Nein they start getting closer a relationship forms they both feel a sort of pull towards one another. When Molly dies the reader doesn't and Lucien remembers the reader but they don't remember him but they feel the same sort of pull they felt for Mollymauk. Once Lucien is actually dead the reader dies of Wounds sustained but again wake up in a grave with no recollection. They meet Kingsley and again there is this sort of pull.

(basically to really quickly explain my idea, the reader's soul got shattered as did Luciens but their souls are forever linked they are meant to be with each other which is why through every revival they feel a pull towards each other)

Again i am so so sorry if this is weird but it's late and i felt the need to get this out and you were the first person i thought of because I've been reading your Mollymauk oneshots for the past few hours.

Good Morning, good day, good night! I love this concept and hope I did it justice and lived up to expectation. Enjoy 😘

He remembers it well. Your first meeting. Or supposed first meeting. Specifically it was your first meeting in this life. He remembers your whispers to the goblin and the ragged wizard when the fated group later becoming known as the Mighty Nein would first meet too. He was his charming self with his angel at his side ready to pull more patrons to the carnival. The carnival had been his home ever since he first looked up at the sky and saw the stars and moons. The moment he set foot in that tavern, something felt so eerily similar to that emptiness. That something was you. He should have run, Molly should have run while he still had the chance but he couldn’t, or wouldn’t. He’s a stubborn one after all and not even his own instincts could tell him what to do. Sure, who knows? You might be dangerous but you’re not dangerous to him. You’re just… lovely. He’d never even said a word to you. How about he changed that?

“And you? We’d be honoured to have your esteemed presence, my dear. The cards say I should show you your fate, are you willing to see it?” Despite his typical grin and charm you didn’t fall for his ways so quickly. You simply huddle within yourself crossing your arms and making yourself small to take off attention. You’re so used to moving through the shadows you’ve forgotten what it’s like to live in the light.

“I’m not that big a believer in fate I’m afraid, but thank you.” That voice sent shivers up his spine. Like a beautiful song that could bring him to tears. Something within himself, he doesn’t know why but it speaks to relief and comfort.

“You should, you should, you should. Look at the reading I got!” The blue tiefling Jester bounces up and down and you curve a smile. Hesitation. He can work with that.

“For you, love, I’ll even do it for free. Whether you believe or not, I think you can appreciate the irony in holding your fate in your own hand by card, no?” He winks. You cover a snort.

“Fine. I’ll draw a card.” You hold up your hands in surrender and cringe when Jester squeals interposing between the two of you excitedly. He could kiss that tiefling for unknowingly being his wingwoman in that very moment. Molly fans out his cards holding them in one hand and with a dramatic bow offers them to you face down letting you pick on. Your fingers brush over the surface until you settle on one and pull it from the deck. He rises fully and equally dramatic. You roll your eyes but fight a smile turning the card towards him.

“The Moon and the Mirror! The first card that ever called to me. One could say our fates are intertwined.” He winks and that smile breaks through when you shake your head in disbelief.

“I think you say that to everyone.” You retort. You’re unsure whether you mean it or not. Something from the moment the literal and figurative peacock set foot in this tavern there has been something that just changed. Something fell in place. If the world was wrong before, it was right now. It doesn’t make any sense and yet it does but you can’t explain it. It just is. Part of you is frightened. Another part, so deeply rooted wants to indulge. It’s as if this tiefling has the answers to the questions you didn’t even know you had.

“Only to beautiful stories.”

“Beautiful stories?”

“That’s what the Moon means. The moon represents beautiful stories. Even when the clouds cover, the moon’s still there. Whether people see it or not, that’s a different thing. Your story is yours, even if you hide it, wrap it in layers and disguise, doesn’t mean it’s not there.” You take in a noticeable breath. That’s what he was looking out for. He’s spot on. You’re carrying a glamour of your own to cover this past of yours and that’s okay. He’s not telling everyone his life story. Okay maybe he is but none of them are true. Even if it were, nobody would be able to tell the difference.

“And the Mirror then?” You raise an eyebrow attempting to deflect. He’ll play along.

“So you are interested in your fate after all.”

“Well you do make it sound so alluring.” You lean onto your elbows. Oh he likes you. Molly is done for. He likes you a lot. He could get used to your company.

“You are far too kind. The Mirror faces us with the truth, as bitter as it may be sometimes. Even the shadows reflect in the mirror. A reveal awaits on your horizon. It’s up to you if you’re ready to face it.” You take in his words. Something has changed. You just don’t know what or why but this tiefling may just have something to do with it. Is this fate after all? No. Just life, or so you tell yourself.

————

You loved him. He was torn away from you far too soon. You loved him and when he left, with him he took your heart. Your world is bleaker without him. When you visit the places of your memories together, they replay in your head. When you’re in your room and the door opens, you wait for that lavender tiefling to walk in boasting about his latest sham or in various stages of undress, showering you in affection until you tell him you’ll vomit from his ridiculousness. Even the times you were at odds. You’d give the world for just another day with him. Molly died. You’d held his body as he grew cold. You stared into those ruby eyes but nevermore saw the life in them. You closed them and so your world dulled and never fully recovered. They say it gets easier with time and it does. Life moves on and it’s easier to go along with the motions as time passes but there’s not a day you don’t miss him. Not a day goes by where you don’t think of him. Sometimes at night when you wake you look at the sky, look at the moon and talk to him. He might not be there but you like to pretend he’s watching sometimes.

It turned out you both had similar stories. You’d never even gotten the chance to fully tell him yours. The two of you had lived focussing on the lives you had now as opposed the earth you crawled out of and that haunted loneliness you awoke with. You can’t help but wonder that feeling, that emptiness is as close a feeling you got these days. You continued with the Nein while he lay buried. Or used to. Molly died but someone else returned in his stead; the one who ended up in the grave he crawled out of in the first place. Molly is dead and now with that face walks a man who can never be him. You’ve seen him-Lucien in flashes of visions before, faded memories that make you frightened of the past you never lived. It’s not your past after all. Someone else lived it in the body you now call yours. The person before is dead and gone. Same as Lucien should have been. It frightens you because what little you know, you know not what your predecessor was to Lucien, or who they were in general. What if he wants that version back? What if that version comes back? What if you cease to exist and this other person takes over?

But then you met the devil himself. Lucien, what a curse to know him. He shares the same face as your Mollymauk but he is not the same. They share some traits, some little habits you recognise. Each and every one is a dagger to your heart. You think he noticed too. He called you by that name, the one that was never yours. It must have just slipped because the horror in your eyes had given you away. He quickly corrected himself. He didn’t call you by that name again but you swore you could hear it like a whisper upon the cold breeze of Eiselcross sometimes. Like molly Lucien is charming but everything about him is with a darker undertone. When he is charming it feels like a predator coaxing a prey right between their teeth. When he smiles it’s belittling or a calm before the storm, something laced in a fury you cannot begin to comprehend. Despite all of this, that same pull remains. That same pull that brought you to Molly, it calls you to Lucien. You don’t want to get close. Fire burns after all and you have a feeling Lucien is an inferno in disguise.

Lucien can’t help himself though. You once meant the world to him. Well not you-you of course. The version of you he lost in his own demise. When he drew his first breath yet again, and you weren’t there. He’d have pulled you from the soil himself, dragged you right out of hell. You weren’t there. Someone else had taken your place. Someone new. A new you. The similarities are uncanny. The way you talk and move, it’s like a warped mirror and every time he gets a spark of hope that you might still be in there, he’s proven wrong. You’re not the person he knew. You’ll just have to be another means to an end at best. Another nuisance at worst. That doesn’t make it any easier. He’s not felt alive in his time beyond the veil but now you’re here so close yet so far away, he feels alive like never before, not since he got separated from you. You’re a candle and he’s the moth. He refuses to get burned.

Then it comes down to it. A fight. He gave you a chance. You picked your side. You joined the Mighty Nein and abandoned him. You made your choice. He’ll deal with the ashes. He takes no pleasure in ending you but no matter what version; you’re a stubborn one and incredibly loyal. You had no loyalties to him, not anymore. Why should he hang onto his loyalties to a ghost? He let it all go even though that sounds easier than it was. It burned him to hurt you. With each injury he inflicted, he felt every single strain, each scream and cry of pain shattered his very soul into fragments. It’s alright or so he kept telling himself. He’d bring you back once this is over; the real you, the true you and the one he held so dearly. He’ll have you back. Not this fragment.

Something within him shattered when he delivered that killing blow. You fell to your knees. You looked at him and he just saw sadness. You looked at your friends but he couldn’t care less about them. He took a good few hits in his distraction as that damned fragment you had grown attached to gained a little more control than he allowed. He watched the light drain from your eyes, your friends tried to rush towards you as you fell to your knees. You couldn’t breathe anymore. Lucien could feel something crack when you hit the ground and remained unmoving. He tried to move on and deal with your companions. In the end it would mean his own demise. They were too late to get you. When he fell, he met your eyes; never shut. Lucien would be dead.

————

The Mighty Nein tried to resurrect you. It didn’t work. Not twice would they be so lucky. They took your body, had a funeral in true Mighty Nein fashion, and laid you at rest in the Blooming Grove to be watched over by Caduceus. They grieved you but their lives continued. Kingsley didn’t understand who you were. They tried to explain, explain who you were to Mollymauk. He got it. For some bloody reason he completely understood. When he first saw you you were dead and something within him felt missing, despite being surrounded by love in his resurrection, a piece of a puzzle he could not comprehend never truly fit together. When he saw you, he knew the missing piece had to do with you but the dead don’t just rise and the ritual had failed. You were truly gone. No one saw but for some reason tears did fall when the firbolg performed the burial rites. He didn’t even know you so why was he crying over you like he lost someone so near and dear to his heart? Like he lost a piece of himself.

One night on the ship far off on the ocean with his captain and trickster partner in crime; the life he’d grown quite used to, something changed. Something in the very air he breathes. The world got a push in the right direction. He didn’t know why or how but somehow it made sense. Some tether pulled him back to that graveyard, told him to go there. Not long after, Jester was freaking out and the wizard was summoned; they had to get back to the mainland fast. They had to get to the Blooming Grove. No one had told him and despite this being the perfect opportunity to commandeer the ship he had longed to captain for himself, he couldn’t just let them go without him. He had to come along. He did.

From the moment Kingsley stepped into that forest temple, where he saw a shellshocked individual seated on a stool staring into the abyss covered in dirt and a blanket, whatever piece of him he missed from the moment of his resurrection, returned and fell into place. That void within suddenly wasn’t so empty anymore. You hadn’t been responsive until his entrance, or so Clay had told them all. Kingsley approached you. You stared at him with such wonder and a recognition he must have held too in his first moments of life. You felt it too. Everything just made sense. You reached for him, just a finger, trembling and hesitant. The pad of that finger pressed against his cheek. There wasn’t much force behind it but were he standing instead of on his knees already, he might have fallen then and there.

“M-Mo… Moon… Moon.” It took you some time to get the word out.

“Moon?” Kingsley asked you though he did not expect a response. It took him while too to truly get to his senses and given the hour and your current state, you must have freshly crawled out of your grave. He feels sorry for you.

“Moon.” You affirm and place your palm flat over his heart. You tap it. “Moon.” He looked towards the Mighty Nein for some explanation. The one he got, that might as well have broken his heart a little. And should you return to your senses, whoever you might be, he’ll be happy to hold it over your heart your first word implied you found him beautiful.

This might just be the beginning of something beautiful. One thing is for sure. This’ll be a fresh start. You get to decide who you want to be. Like him you’ll be loved no matter what. He’ll make sure of it.

#mollymauk x reader #lucien x reader #kingsley x reader #mighty nein x reader #critical role x reader #mollymauk tealeaf #lucien nonagon #kingsley tealeaf #critical role mollymauk #critical role #mighty nein #critical role fanfiction #critical role fanfic

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romeoandjulietyouwish · 1 year

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anyway I adore Kingsley so have a character study I guess <3

Kingsley bounds to the front of the ship, looking out at the water with childlike glee. Childlike is right, he’s technically not even three months old. Sometimes he feels older, sometimes he really does feel like the child the others seem to think he is.

Everything is still so fascinating and new but also familiar. The ship isn’t familiar, neither is the water, but the people are. Jester and Fjord. It feels as though he should know them but he doesn’t.

Every so often he gets a flash of a memory, Jester smiling up at him, whispering to him in Infernal. Or Fjord bisecting some kind of creature with a sword.

He doesn’t tell them as much, doesn’t want them to get their hopes up that whoever inhabited this body before him is returning. He’s not that person anymore, either of them, and it’s taking them all some adjusting.

Kingsley takes a big breath of salty air as the wind blows his coat back, certain with every bone in his body, that he's never done this before.

They tell him he used to read fortunes. And apparently they’re right. His hands know the worn deck of tarot cards Jester hands him. He knows how to get the card he wants to the top and how to trick his customer into thinking he’s genuine. Kingsley hates it. It’s not him. It’s something else, someone else in his head bleeding through.

So he gives the tarot cards back to Jester. The next time they make port he purchases a worn book on palm reading. He reads through it in one night, burning a candle down to the stand. And the next day he spends hours just staring at his palm.

His life line is frayed, splitting off into three lines. He traces a nail through them, wondering which one is his. Wondering if it even matters.

His heartline is the deepest one. It means you love deeply and completely, the book had said. And that’s the one he’s become fixated on. How can his hand know more about him than he does? It doesn’t make any sense and yet at the same time it makes the most sense of it all. This hasn’t always been his body. Maybe the line was meant for someone else. Lucien? Mollymauk?

Sometimes when he lies in his hammock below decks, he’ll trace that line over and over again, hoping beyond anything that it belongs to him.

The nightmares are the worst part. More often than not in the early months, he wakes up screaming names he barely knows, looking at faces he doesn’t remember. He dreams of a city made of roiling flesh. He dreams of a snowy road and a sharp blade. He dreams of a figure in red staring down at him. He dreams of dirt and ash and books and eyes. So many eyes.

Nothing but fucking eyes.

Jester is always there to comfort him. She’s good at that. She’ll hold him in her arms, let him cry and babble on and on about his dreams, switching mindlessly between Common and Infernal. She doesn’t judge. She doesn’t tell anyone.

She’ll braid his hair and sing a song her mother wrote her. Kingsley doesn’t know his mother. He doubts he ever will. And it eats at him far more than he would ever let on. Jester never sees his thumb digging into his life line almost hard enough to cut the skin.

Unlike the others, Caduceus has no expectations of him. He is a welcome friend, despite their many differences. It's Caduceus that Kingsley talks to when he can no longer stand the thought of staring at his palm, wondering what it all means.

Caduceus takes his hand, gentle as ever, and turns his hand over so Kingsley can no longer see the lines. He taps his thumb against the scar on the back of Kingsley's hand, asks him how he got it.

Kingsley is prepared to say he doesn't know, that it's a relic from Molly or Lucien. But then he takes a better look at it and smiles, telling Caduceus that it's from when Fjord tried to teach him to cook and a huge wave rocked the ship making him cut himself.

And in that instant, Kingsley understands the point Caduceus is trying to make. It doesn't matter who came before him, it doesn't matter which lines are his, because at the end of the day it's his body now. Every day he's figuring out who he is, he's adopting mannerisms, he's learning. And he's growing.

And that has to be enough.

#my fic #mighty nein #cr spoilers #critical role #kingsley tealeaf

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a-menagerie · 2 years

Text

Authors note: this is some very self-indulgent rambling about reader with Molly & Kingsley. It may not make much sense but I hope at lease some of you enjoy it. Inspired in part by @railroad-migraine ‘s Molly fic “It’s Time You Come Home”.

You had been mourning Mollymauk for longer than you’d gotten to love him.

The thought hit you out of nowhere, your glass slipping from your hand. You waved away the concerned glances, apologizing to Caduceus for making a mess. As you cleaned, you worked to keep the tears at bay.

Days like this, you wished you’d stayed behind with the carnival, convincing Molly to do the same. Still, you knew that would never have happened. Molly was a force to be reckoned with and you would’ve followed him anywhere.

Now, you had all followed Molly, no, Lucien from the grave and across Eiselcross. Any hope you had of Molly still being in there was dashed almost immediately. Lucien was cold and all sharp edges, nothing seemed to remain of your lover.

Fighting the creature that had been Mollymauk was almost a relief. All your pent up anger and sorrow powered you through the fight and as their body collapsed to the ground, you found yourself suddenly empty and dropped to your knees.

You’d never thought you’d get Molly back. When the resurrection failed, you’d already accepted it. But when vines and flowers encompass the body, red eyes open with a strangled breath, you feel your heart start to pound. He glances around, slowly recognizing those around him before his eyes finally land on you.

“Home.”

You have your arms around him before you can think, cradling him to yourself as you cry. Slowly, his hands raise to hold you, leaning more heavily into your hold.

Kingsley is not Mollymauk. He doesn’t remember much: a woman in a red coat, some vague sense of familiarity of Yasha, and…you. Not all of you, not all of what you meant to Mollymauk. But you were warm, familiar, and even if he couldn’t remember you, Kingsley could see how easy it would be to love you.

It was…strange. Kingsley was adamant to figure out who he wanted to be, free from the shackles of Lucien and Molly. So, he ran from you. Not literally, of course, but he found himself avoiding your company. It was hard to be with you, knowing that you loved who he used to be.

And yet, he kept finding himself seeking you out. He’d return from the sea with Fjord and Jester and immediately return to your side, presenting you with trinkets and prizes he’d collected along his way. After seizing his own ship, Kingsley offered you a place beside him at the helm.

You join him. Maybe you feel like you owe something to him, to look after him in a way you ultimately weren’t able to do for Molly. Maybe it’s a selfish thing, to keep him in your life. But maybe…you come to simply enjoy Kingsley’s company.

“Why are you here?” Kingsley asked one day, when he’s at the helm of his ship and you’re leaning over the railing nearby. You glance to him in surprise.

“Like…on this ship?” He nods. “You asked me to come along.”

“I know that.” There’s a long pause, long enough that you go back to staring out over the sea. When Kingsley speaks again, you can barely hear him. “Why come with me?”

You mull over your words as you walk to him, humming in thought.

“Because I wanted to help you and I care for you a lot.” You see Kingsley clench his jaw.

“You care for Mollymauk. I’m not him.” He keeps his eyes on the sea, refusing to look at you.

“I know. I loved Molly. But I like you too, Kingsley. I don’t want you to be Molly, I want you to be you. And I want to be here to see you.”

After a pause, you ask, “Why did you ask me to come along?”

He doesn’t answer.

Kingsley wants to know what it’d be like to be truly loved by you.

Years pass and once Kingsley feels comfortable enough, he reads through Beau’s journals to learn more about Mollymauk. And in the process, you. He’s witnessed your love firsthand but still, the journals surprise him. Kingsley tells you straight that Molly didn’t deserve your love. You laugh and assure him that it’s you that didn’t deserve Molly.

He’s not really sure he agrees with that.

You have been loving Kingsley longer than you knew Molly.

The thought doesn’t sting as much as you expected, though there’s still a dull ache. You feel certain that Molly wouldn’t be upset with you for moving on - in fact, he’d probably encourage it. He’d hate it if he were the reason you weren’t happy.

So you lean into the feelings, no longer holding back the love you feel for Kingsley. You can’t tell if he notices (oh, he does). You blindside him with a kiss to the cheek and he’s left off-kilter for the rest of the day. It becomes a bit of a slow dance between the two of you, feeling out how the two of you may fit together.

Kingsley’s not a fan of the tattoos littering his body. He had no choice in them and grew to resent them. But there were gaps where red eyes had once been, a gap on the back of his hand, and Kingsley knew exactly what he wanted to fill that space with.

He presents you his hand one day, when the ship is docked off a small isle and it’s just the two of you sitting on the deck, legs dangling off the side. You cradle Kingsley’s hand in your own and examine the new tattoo. Twin flames circling each other in the very center, one flame dark red and the other a light blue. And surrounding the flames was a pair of hands. Your hands, of course, etched onto his skin.

Kingsley explains it to you, though he’s almost a little embarrassed. The flames, he thinks, are obvious: they represent Mollymauk and himself. And how could it be anyone’s hands but yours? You, who loved Molly so fiercely. You, who have cared for Kingsley so vehemently.

You bring his hand to rest over your heart and assure him that you love him too. You’ve loved him for so long, but you didn’t want to put that pressure onto him, not when he was discovering himself and finishing his place in the world. Kingsley just stared at you in wonder.

“Can I kiss you?” He blurts out, his other hand rising to cup your cheek. You laugh lightly and lean into his hand.

“I’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

“I was jealous of a dead man.” Kingsley says out into the dark do the captain’s quarters. You were both lying in bed, in a delightful almost-asleep haze. You raise your head from his chest to look at him with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean?” He’s laying with one arm underneath his head but he raises his other hand to card through your hair.

“I was jealous of Mollymauk.” Kingsley admits. “He had this huge family that loved him, who went to the ends of the world for him. And he had you.”

He laughs a bit at himself. You press a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“That’s why I invited you on the ship. I was too selfish to go without you. I wanted you to myself.” He’s flushed a bit, though his gaze on you is unwavering. This time you give him a real kiss before you settle back down against his chest.

“Well, you have me.”

#pls be kind 🙏🏻#mollymauk x reader #Kingsley x reader #Kingsley tealeaf x reader #molly x reader #critrole reader insert #critical role x reader

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railroad-migraine · 2 years

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Day 23. Under the oak tree 🎃

-> Kingsley Tealeaf x GN!Reader

Sometimes it's better off not knowing

~ Poet

Your mouth is filled with macaroons and sugared fruit, your hair lightly tousled by the late afternoon breeze that still whisks through the leaves overhead when Kingsley lowers his cup of summer wine and looks at you.

"Is this what friends do?"

The silence that answers him is almost deafening. Best friends, he wants you to say, perhaps even lovers. He would be happy with either, and he resists leaning forward to brush away the crumbs at the corner of your mouth when you dare meet his gaze.

"I don't know," you manage, sounding short of breath. And it's true, you don't - he isn't as playfully coy as Molly, nor as ruthless as Lucien. You're both still new to each other, sitting on a blanket together at the base of a tree older than you can guess.

After a moment, you reach out and hold a tiny pastry to his lips. A peace offering of some sort.

His hand curls around your wrist and he kisses your fingertips instead.

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captainkingsley · 2 years

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I'm super into the idea of Lucien being Ruidus-born, because the dichotomy of him being born of the red moon and Molly following the Moonweaver / being associated with Catha is just so good.

I like to think that Mollymauk's relationship with the Moonweaver started as him just goofing off — he has cards with her symbolism, so he starts to kind of hand-wavingly worship her. Not in an all out "I'm a devoted follower of this deity", but more like "I don't know, weird things happen every so often, maybe it's her. Maybe it's just weird luck. These cards are cool though".

And the Moonweaver, seeing this tiefling with a partial soul, his previous life bound to Ruidus, decides that she may as well give him a hand. Because yeah, her realm holds dominion over Ruidus because it is a moon, but I don't think she controls it. I think she more or less tries to keep it in check, and times when it flares or people are born influenced by it is when she's not able to rein it in.

Had Molly lived longer? Maybe he would have come into more influence from the Moonweaver. Maybe he would have gotten her attention in a bigger way, or gained something from her in an attempt to push away the remnants of Lucien and his Ruidus-born influence.

But a related concept I really enjoy is slowly, over the course of time, Lucien and Molly's souls rejoining. But this time as Mollymauk, removing the influence of Ruidus from him by way of the Moonweaver's hand guiding him. Not just a fractured part of Lucien, but a whole person. Like a new lunar cycle, starting as a sliver of himself until he's whole.

#do i know a lot of exandria lore?#not really. am i going to think up stuff like this while I'm at work?#yeah #now watch the book is going to say Lucien is explicitly not Ruidus born #but hey. it's a cool concept #also I've been enamored with the image of mollymauk's eyes turning silver

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valdrift · 1 year

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finished tneol last night and needed to marinate in my thoughts………overall i enjoyed the book and i liked the characterization of lucien and the tombtakers.

they got more depth so they weren't just the antagonists of the m9 and, while not excusing their actions, i think they came off as more sympathetic once u knew their motives. the combination of their pasts and the influence of the somnovem make it kinda understandable as to why they thought their actions were justifiable. also, there were some moments where i thought lucien was too woobified but i realized it's actually the perspective of the book lending to lucien being a Very unreliable narrator which i think is a nice touch.

because again, lucien's a selfish, arrogant, and delusional person who's convinced that only he knows best and that he needs to be the one to guide people or do what needs to be done. of course the narration isn't going to fully reflect the grisliness of his actions, lucien thinks he's doing the right thing. but when you step out of his perspective, it's like yeah hold on what's your fucking problem dude lol. it makes sense that aldreda cut him out of her life, he let the relationship die out of insecurity and before that, he killed their parents. sure they were shitty and i'm not shedding tears over it, but did he even consult aldreda? we don't know, and once she got her own life away from her past, aldreda was probably given the space to realize the kind of dangerous person her brother was capable of being. it fully makes sense that she doesn't want him near her or her family if he can't even be honest about what he's done or the kind of person he is. it's a repeated pattern of lucien's arrogance and manipulation when he acts for other people without even considering how they'd feel, and just because he's doing it in what he perceives to be for their own good, it doesn't excuse it. i don't think he's always been like this, it's probably the somnovem exacerbating the worst parts of himself (with molly being the good parts of himself) while his mind/sanity spirals, however he had chances to do the right thing and he just chose not to. either by taking the easy way out or having a big enough ego to think that he could handle everything even though it was clear to everyone except him that he was slipping. like yeah he could take the easy way out of his problems, however that involves hurting people both strangers and loved ones alike. but for someone as self-absorbed as lucien, it's worth it if it means he's just that much closer to achieving his goals.

anyways some things i thought could've been done better were the relationships and his childhood? while i really like brevyn as a character, her presence in the story didn't add much aside from being the fridged love interest to show lucien as a more sympathetic character. they easily could've achieved that by expanding on his relationship to cree and aldreda. cree, who he's known the longest and was his best friend who he ultimately sacrificed despite everything they've been through, and aldreda who he wants to mend things with. it could've been more impactful for lucien's downward spiral and his "i can fix everything, the ends justify the means" mindset in his desperation to ascend. like the progression of him not wanting to hurt cree (ie the somnovem beginning to corrupt him and him feeling ashamed when he out of nowhere wants to hit her from anger [because what would he be if even cree was scared of him?]) to him ruthlessly letting her take the fall for him to buy more time.

as for his childhood it just felt comically horrific like the skin puppets thing is. well it sure is there. idk i felt like the story could've instead covered the abuse lucien and his siblings suffered under the hands of their parents and with lucien being an unreliable narrator, him not realizing the full extent of it (ie him saying elric was the favorite and yet their parents "hided him raw" for not setting a better example, like that is not how "favorites" are treated dude). the puppet theme felt a little weak because i wasn't really picking up on a clear puppetmaster which, you know, puppets need. butterflies would've been better probably since change/growth/transformation is integral to them but ok

other than that, i really liked the book. i think it had a nice balance between fleshing lucien out to be a more sympathetic character without excusing his actions or writing him off to purely be a victim of circumstance as if he didn't have the opportunity and ability to make better choices. the narration did a good job in conveying the unsettling feeling of the somnovem stuff and how lucien practically went mad without even realizing it. the end also kinda made me :( when lucien's getting all worn down, and how relieved he is when jester lands the killing blow because he just wanted everything to end. and molly consistently annoying lucien in the back of his mind while also trying to get him to just do the right thing ("you don't have to do this. you don't have to be this.") WAUGH........molly's kindness and his desire to leave places better than he found it what if we all died

tldr: lucien's a pathetic little man and absolute fucking mess and i LOVE HIM for it

#the nine eyes of lucien #the nine eyes of lucien spoilers #lucien tavelle #he's a loser and he's EVERYTHING TO ME #i know tht its kinda implied kingsley is a second chance for both molly and lucien BUT.#already formulating What Ifs of either both molly/lucien coming back or just lucien #either way its gonna be like *clocks lucien in the face* surprise! your actions have consequences!

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grayintogreen · 9 months

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WIP WEDNESDAY

Hello gang! I am about 8k into what's going to be a MASSIVE chapter, so I'm not too far in yet, but I'm getting there! In the meantime, here's a preview:

Beau chewed on her thumbnail as she stared at her board in the library, now laden with new observations that seemed sporadic and random and yet definitely seemed to be becoming more and more like the Pattern that Lucien had sketched out that one day. The new addition of Nerida alongside her connection to Alder Allard and their connection to Jayne put a lot more into perspective, but it still didn’t explain any connection to the Somnovem.

She scribbled a note about the abyssal anchors on a small gap on the board and tapped her chalk-dusted fingers on the amulet around her neck.

“What d’you think, Lu?”

Lucien’s voice in her head sounded miserable- it had been awhile since he’d been trapped in the gem, so she couldn’t blame him for it, though she suspected it went much deeper than that. He’d just been hit with a massive onslaught of new information and none of it made any damn sense.

”I think someone wanted me to hurt and I can’t imagine why.”

“The way you talk about the Somnovem and how they act around you-“ she could feel Lucien flinch, “- maybe you were always being groomed for this.”

”I think that much is obvious, Beauregard.”

“I’m just saying… There’s your Somnovem connection. These people, for whatever reason, wanted you to be driven to become the Nonagon. The question is why you and why do they have so much skin in the Somnovem’s game.”

”Excellent questions, both, aye.”

He wasn’t going to be any further help in this. She found herself irritated by it, even knowing that wasn’t fair. It was easier to be annoyed at him for not being helpful with what could finally crack the secrets to this fucking ordeal and save himself and Molly than it was to focus on the real elephant in the room.

Tomorrow they would be headed to Kamordah.

She wanted nothing more to throw herself into her work and let it consume her utterly until she was nothing but facts and figures and puzzles to be sorted out. If her head was buzzing with information then maybe once they arrived in her old stomping grounds, she would have a shield worthy of catching whatever barbs her dad wanted to throw her way. She could keep herself focused on what mattered and ignore what didn’t, because Thoreau Lionett didn’t matter.

Right.

Family mattered- that was the tragedy of having family. The fucker had done the unthinkable and sold her to the Cobalt Soul and somehow weaseled out of punishment for it and as much as she wanted to be able to hold her head high and walk into his house and laugh in his face about how stupid he was to think someone wouldn’t have clocked him, she knew better. That he was clocked was a lucky break and he still got away with it. Even seeing him embarrassed and disgraced wouldn’t derail the truth.

And yet he mattered. She wanted to find something in him that proved he’d realized his mistake and was willing to apologize. It was a thought that was going to get her hurt and she knew it and that was why she wanted to do everything in her power to avoid thinking about it.

The chalk snapped between her fingers and Beau stared at it with all the confusion of a child that had only just learned it had the capacity for destruction. She let the pieces fall to the floor, uselessly and ran a hand down her face without consideration for the dust on her fingers and exhaled. “It feels like we’re just chasin’ our tails.”

Two hundred pounds of Blink Dog materialized out of thin air and hip-checked her onto the ground. She hollered as she fell, trying to catch herself, but only ended up in a defensive crouch as Rock began to assault her with kisses and whining. Her protests only seemed to make him more enthusiastic about licking her to death.

Yasha’s heavy footfalls preceded her suddenly yanking him off by his collar and cooing at him in Sylvan until he became a rigid obedient and model dog, albeit one panting and smiling like Beau was the greatest thing in the world in his eyes. She shot him a smile and rubbed the dog spit off her face with the back of her hand. “Hey, buddy.”

Rock whined, pawed the ground in a little dance that toed the line between wanting to be obedient and wanting to leap onto her again. He looked to Yasha for permission and she placed a hand on his head and rubbed the soft velvet of his big ears. “Shh shhh it’s okay.” She dipped her head, apologetically, at Beau. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be. I think he knows when I’m stressed.” To show no hard feelings, she cupped Rock’s muzzle in her hands and rubbed the thin fur around his face. In return, he licked the last of the chalk dust off her nose. “You should get him one of those emotional support dog vests.”

“He’s been really good with the Clays,” Yasha shrugged. “He wore Clarabelle out.”

Beau moved her scritches to Rock’s chest and his tail thumped excitedly on the ground. “Caduceus’s family seems… Nice, right?”

Yasha cocked her head to the side the same way a puppy might. “Yeah, I think so. They’re, um… Not like him? I guess he’s dad is a little bit.” She frowned deeper. “I dunno what I was expecting.”

“A bunch of Caduceus clones, all of them, like, spouting insightful shit and being wise and perceptive and, like, self-righteous in a way that’s almost charming?”

“Maybe.”

“Families contain multitudes, I guess.” She winced, realizing that in trying to talk about Caduceus’s family, she’d opened the door to talk about her own. Desperately, she fumbled for a change in subject and landed on someone else’s bullshit instead. “Hey, speaking of that… Lucien, when you were in the Run, did you, uh… Talk to Ophelia?”

Lucien’s sigh filled her head the same way smoke fills an empty room. ”No. I had better things to do.”

“Like pining for us?”

”I wasn’t pining. I was bored.”

“But are you?” Yasha piped up. “Gonna talk to her, I mean.”

He fell silent again for a long moment. ”When I have something to say to that woman, then perhaps. She left me behind because someone offered her a better deal than bein’ my mother. I feel like despite it all, I managed a better deal than bein’ her son. We don’t owe each other anything. She’s not worth all the hate I’ve got in my black heart for others. She was just as much a pawn in this game as I was. I don’t have to forgive her for it, but I recognize that whether fate or gods or nightmares have surrounded me my entire life, they would have pushed her out, eventually, had she stayed. Obviously, I inherited her survival instincts.”

Beau could only dream of being that practical about her family. Never before had she considered she might be jealous of fucking Lucien. She blew out a long breath that made a pbblt sound against her lips. “Not to use you as a hot potato, Lu, but I’m gonna pass you off to somebody else for a tick, so I can have some alone time with my girl.”

“Well, at least you’re being polite about it,” Lucien deadpanned. ”I wanted to talk to Cree anyway.”

“You got it, boss,” she deadpanned right back.

#cr fic #wip wednesday #you can't deny high noon

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dent-de-leon · 21 days

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newly resurrected tealeaf my beloved...he wakes up so scared he just--"bolts up and runs." His first real world is Love, Molly reaching out to Yasha and pulling her into a hug as soon as he recognizes her. Calling out for his Magician and all his other loved ones after. He gently asks, "Home?" looking uncertainly around the rotting remains of Cognouza, until Jester rushes to reassure him--no no, this isn't home. But it's okay. We're going to take you home.

The Mighty Nein all hold hands to teleport. And Tealeaf doesn't know what that's about, but he happily holds hands with all these warm, achingly familiar strangers. He picks pretty flowers from the Blooming Grove for Beau and Yasha, looks so pleased and excited when he finally gets the chance to give them. He walks under Catha wide eyed and full of wonder, taking in the verdant greenery and moonlit lake. Notices Clarabelle is clearly watching him, but is content to just let her quietly follow.

He looks so fond when Jester gives his tarot cards back. Does he still remember the last dream he had of his goddess, back in that liminal space between life and death? When she read his fortune and held Yasha's tarot card out to him? "The Love card...Do you know what that means? It's okay if you don't." "One might call that a miracle...Perhaps fourth time's the charm."

Molly and Lucien reached out to each other when everything ended, shook hands and decided to go back home together. This little tiefling is their shared connection, their twin souls--reborn from all the love the Nein had for them, the love that Tealeaf always returned. "A part of a soul. Or is it a whole one? If souls could grow from but a piece..." A soul born and saved by Love--

#sorry but thinking again about how the core of molly's soul is Love #mollymauk born of joy and love and just #when all his memories and everything else is stripped away. its the gentle curious compassionate soul that remains--#and thats who he is at his heart #circus man my beloved--

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tarydarrington · 2 years

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I would love to know about "in case of permadeath break glass"!

@cinderstorm I hope it’s okay to get both of you at once!

This one is almost old enough to start kindergarten :'D

The death in question was Molly's, so this fic was born in between c2e26 and c2e27. It was a fix-it(ish? adjacent?) fic where the Nein parted ways after Molly's death, and a very Bren-y Caleb winds up with a device that has a finite number of time travel charges. He tries to use it to go back and save his parents, but instead gets dumped near Shadycreek Run on the night Molly crawled out of his grave.

It was originally intended to be Widomauk, but I've heavily considered rewriting it to be Shadowgast (Astrid and Wulf play a role that could very easily be swapped for Essek), with the ending changed to reflect what happened with Lucien in canon. That might still happen someday, but it's pretty low on my list of things to write at this point :')

I looked for a small snippet to post, but figured the rest will probably never wind up seeing the light of day anyway, so here is. a full (unedited) chapter. because why not?

Caleb opens his eyes.

A white sky bears down on him. Half-lost snowflakes drift across the cloud-covered sun. His head pounds. The cold air bites his lungs as he takes a deep and steadying breath, and braces himself on both elbows.

They’re by the road. Beau lies face-down in the snow not five feet from him, groaning as she rolls herself over. A sparse forest opens around them, and for miles until the mountainous horizon the trees grow thicker and darker. Caleb closes his eyes. There’s something familiar about this scene, if he could only-

“What. The fuck.”

Caleb’s eyes fly open this time to find Beau’s hand fisted around his scarf, yanking his face close to hers.

“Did you do?”

Caleb moves to bat her hand away, but her grip holds fast. He lets out a frustrated huff, and glares back.

“That device,” he begins. “It manipulates time and space.”

“And you thought it would be a great fuckin’ idea to try it out with no warning and no idea how it works?”

She lets her grip go lax and uses the same hand to shove him back to the ground. Caleb pushes himself back up to his elbows and takes a breath.

“I am aware of how it works.” He brushes the snow from his jacket. The cold has begun to seep through. He should have had the foresight to pick a warmer time of year. “I did not plan on having you along for the ride, that is all.”

“Yeah? Neither did I.”

Caleb squeezes his eyes shut, letting the chill calm his frayed nerves. With a deep breath, he wills his voice steady.

“Poof, I’m gone. The three of you are none the wiser, and then poof, again, I am back with my family. I did not intend to endanger anyone but myself. Would you help me up, please?”

Caleb watches Beau’s back as she turns to make for the road. He sighs, and tugs his boots free of the swiftly-piling snow.

“Well, we are here now, are we not?” He gives a quick look down each direction of the road as he trots up beside her. He remembers this place, but not well enough. They will have to find a local to get their bearings. “I intend to do what I set out to do. If you are willing, I would be grateful for your help. If not, I will meet you in this place when I am finished.”

“So, are you hearing yourself? Like, when you talk?” Beau asks. “Because it sounded to me like you just asked me for help with fixing the bullshit mess you made for us, and then implied you’re perfectly fine with leaving me behind here with no fuckin’ way to get back.”

“It appears it is in your best interests to help me.”

Beau watches him darkly for a long moment, and Caleb begins to wonder whether she’s angry enough to truly fight him. Then, she gives a short nod, and turns back toward the road.

“Fine,” she says. “But you’ve changed, Caleb, and it sucks.”

“Perhaps you did not know me as well as you imagined,” Caleb returns, and he pulls his scarf up over his nose as the two of them set off down the road.

“So,” Beau begins after a long walk in silence. “You kinda disappeared.”

Caleb keeps his eyes on the road ahead. It’s coming back to him, bit by bit. They’re not far from Shady Creek Run, he thinks - he has never seen it in winter, but the paths and the mountains are the same.

“Ja, well, we went our separate ways.”

“Yeah, but nobody else dropped off the face of Exandria.”

He catches her sneaking a glance from the corner of her eye, and then: “What happened with Nott?”

Caleb’s throat tightens.

“We had a disagreement.”

It isn’t a lie, exactly.

“Was it about how you’ve turned into a dick?”

“More or less.”

Not a lie, either.

“You think she’d be happy to know you’re putting everyone at risk for the sake of--”

“You know, I did not mind waking in silence, Beauregard.”

She doesn’t bother hiding the glare she shoots him this time. Caleb dutifully watches the road ahead.

As the sun begins to ease toward the mountains, finally, a tiny, wagon-shaped dot appears on the road ahead. The two of them exchange a look. Caleb straightens his coat.

“I will do the talking,” he says.

Beau raises an eyebrow, but lets him take the lead as they continue on. The wagon wobbles slowly closer until Caleb can make out the couple at the reigns. He raises a hand and smoothes down his hair. With any luck, the snow has helped a bit with the matting.

“Guten abend,” he calls when they’re close enough.

With a careful smile, the woman pulls at the reigns until the horses ease to a stop. The man gives him a skeptical once-over, then does the same to Beau. Caleb gives them a polite nod.

“May we trouble you to point us toward the nearest place to rest for a night?”

The two of them exchange a look, then the woman gives him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, lad. It’s an half day’s ride to the nearest inn. It’ll have to be by the road for you tonight.”

Caleb ignores Beau’s heavy sigh beside him, and dips his head in thanks.

“We have been traveling for quite a while; it won’t be a problem. But, you know, a lot of time has passed - would you be so kind as to inform us of the date?”

“Eighteenth,” the man calls back.

“Of Duscar?”

The woman lets out a hesitant laugh.

“Quite a while, indeed. We’re well into Horisal, dear.”

“What year?” Beau asks before he can stop her.

The two travelers exchange a confused look. Caleb shoots Beau a withering look, and she glares back.

“833,” the woman says at last, and Caleb’s stomach drops.

Eight-thirty-three. Years too late. His mind races. He had concentrated so painfully on the memory of the loss, taken such care to picture their faces in his mind… Beauregard. It must have been her. The only anomaly present in a perfect equation. He takes in a shaky breath of the frigid air, and realizes as the ringing in his ears subsides that the conversation has continued around him.

“The left down the road,” the man is saying. His eyes dart between the two of them nervously, and he’s taken the reins in his hands again.

“Thanks.” Beau tips an imaginary hat. “Safe travels.”

The man nods, and shakes the reins. The wagon lurches to a start again, and Beau pulls her robe tighter around her.

“At least we know where we are, now,” she says. “Kind of.”

She turns back toward Caleb, and stops when she catches sight of his face. Her brows knit in concern.

“What’s up?”

“We are not in the right place.”

“No shit.”

At a sudden thought, Caleb digs into his coat pocket. He comes back up with the device in hand. The heat of his coat has fogged the smooth sides, and he wipes it clear with his sleeve. The same two lights shine back at him.

“This thing,” he says, turning it in his hands, “was meant to bring me back to save my parents. This is too late. They are already…”

He trails off, running a finger along the edge between the two lit sides. Faintly, he feels Beau come up behind him to look over his shoulder.

“So, how did you think it worked?”

“I did not think,” he snaps, taking a step away and turning to face her. “I spent the time focusing on this thing. I am well aware of how it works.”

“And you still fucked it up, huh?”

“Well, you know, I was concentrating pretty well until I was grabbed by a very intrusive asshole.”

Beau squints at him.

“I’m gonna go ahead and ignore the wording you just used there, and just ask if you know how to get us back properly.”

Caleb looks down at the device. The dark sides seem to make the lit ones shine brighter.

“If I am allowed to concentrate,” he says pointedly. "But I came here for a reason, Beauregard. I am not ready to go back, yet."

He slips the device back into his pocket, wishing in the back of his mind that he had thought to commandeer Jester’s bag of holding for the journey.

The road winds them in silence through a long, flat stretch of snow. By dusk, small hills have begun to sprout up on either side, dotted with barren trees. Sunlight gives way to moonlight in a valley of sorts. A perfect place for an ambush. It makes the back of his neck itch.

Beside him, Beau frowns at the trees.

“There’s something about this place that seems…”

She trails off, but Caleb doesn’t need her to finish. He feels it, too. There is something strikingly familiar about the road and its surroundings, though he can’t quite place the reason. They have been in the area before, certainly, but not precisely here. It almost feels as though they have wandered into a place out of a story, heard about but never seen.

“Ja,” he says, and motions for her to keep walking. “We should probably keep moving.”

She gives him a begrudging nod, and the two of them continue down the road. Before they’ve made it five steps, Beau throws up a hand. Caleb stops in his tracks, and Beau cranes her neck toward the side of the road, listening.

“What is it?” he hisses.

She waves a hand for him to be quiet. Caleb slips his hands into his pockets, warming them in case they will need to cast quickly.

The night around them is still. No birds call this deep into winter in this part of Wildemount. The light snowfall around them holds the forest in a muted quiet, and the creaking of the leafless branches in the breeze is the only sound Caleb finds.

And then, the rustling comes again.

Beau points toward the top of the hill off the road to their left. Caleb eases his hands from his pockets and dips two fingers into the pouch of salt at his belt.

Beau points at him, then at the ground where they stand. She jerks a thumb at herself, then points toward the hill. Caleb nods.

Beauregard drops to a crouch and begins to inch off the road. Caleb makes a show of checking the ground around him, in the hopes that anyone who might be watching will see only a man searching for something he's dropped.

Beau is halfway up the hill when the ground at the crest splits open.

Caleb flings the salt in front of him, mage armor springing up around him. Beau stops in her tracks as the snow settles again. They wait. The snowy heap sits ominously as the only evidence of any change.

And then, another shift. Clumps of packed-in snow fly upwards and outwards as something breaks the surface. Caleb makes one cautious step towards tree cover before it dawns on him what he's seeing.

A hand, splayed desperately open, lavender and clawing.

His heart tugs seven different ways at once.

Snow kicks up at her heels as Beauregard breaks into a run. Humbly, Caleb is half aware of his feet carrying him forward, one slow and dragging step at a time.

It cannot be. The odds… Caleb doesn't have to know them to know how astronomically improbable it would be to end up there, on that night of all nights. This is a trick of the light. Some undead thing clawing its way from the ground cast purple in the moonlight.

“Caleb!”

Beau is on her hands and knees - when did she kneel down? - scrabbling at the dirt beneath the snow, face equal parts shock and fear and anger. The ground beneath her tosses up dirt in ripples.

“Caleb, he’s getting in the way. Grab his hand.”

Caleb stares.

Beau gives him an angry grunt, and keeps digging.

“He's gonna fucking suffocate, grab his hand and pull.”

He can't feel his hands.

A second hand breaches the surface, and Beau takes it with a firm squeeze. The hand grasps at hers, pulling until the back of her hand catches against the dirt.

“Caleb, fucking dig!”

“This,” he hears himself say, “is not right.”

Beau reaches up with her free hand and yanks him down by the wrist.

“Grab a hand or grab some dirt, or I'm actually going to kill you, Caleb.”

He looks down. This close, he can see the dip in the ground where the dirt is loose below. He can see the red eye staring back at him from a dark lavender palm. And it is no trick of the light.

Caleb digs both hands into the dirt and shovels.

“I think that’s enough. Grab his other hand. We have to pull him up.”

“You are much stronger--”

“Caleb, grab his hand.”

Together, they haul him from the ground. Naked, wild-eyed, and panting, their quarry sinks to the ground beside them. Beside Caleb, Beau braces herself on her knees and catches her breath.

“What the fuck?” she breathes.

On the ground, haunted red eyes dart frantically around. Caleb looks at anything and everything else, insides twisted into knots.

“Empty,” Mollymauk croaks.

#a lot of the emotional beats late in the plot leaned fairly heavily on having emotions about late campaign 1 #scanlan has a brief but important role that falls pretty flat if you're not still grieving vax to an extent #so i'm not sure how well it would work now vs four years ago #but it was fun! i wrote four chapters #wip title ask game #widomauk #ariadne-mouse #cinderstorm #thanks both of you for the asks! 💜💜#cr2 spoilers #campaign 2 spoilers #wip tag

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ofbrokenfaith · 1 year

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you’re on your own, kid II FALCIEN

I waited ages to see you there. I search the party of better bodies just to learn that you never cared. You're on your own, kid. You always have been.

“Dude, you cannot just summon me whenever the fuck you want, you know that, right?” Fallon asked as she walked into Lucien’s apartment. She threw her bag on the ground, hands on her hips as she looked at him expectantly. “I have done literally so much magic for you over the past few days, I don’t know what else you could possibly need.”

Lucien gave her an amused look, shaking his head. “Your mother would have your tongue if you spoke to her that way, you are aware of that, yes?”

It was Fallon’s turn to chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “My mother also wouldn’t fuck you and I can only guess that it’s because you’re packing less than a roll of pennies below the waist, but don’t worry, I hear that penis pump technology gets better by the day.” Lucien is already opening his mouth to speak again when Fallon holds up a hand to stop him. “Let’s leave mother dearest out of it, okay, pumpkin?”

Annoyed and defeated, he relents, waving her further into the apartment. She follows, arms crossed as she takes in the surroundings. Fallon had been the one to spell Lucien’s apartment for him, making it safe from anyone that wasn’t invited in, vampire or not. The hot guy that was either asleep or dead on the couch was definitely new. “Who’s the hunk?” she asked, taking a seat.

“His name is Devin. People have names and feelings, Fallon,” Lucien answered, bringing her a glass of wine. She made a face, wishing it was whiskey, but accepted it anyhow.

“That’s kind of rich coming from you. Are you not the same guy that only refers to Aunt Caroline as ‘that annoyingly persistent blonde’ or some variation?”

Lucien scowls, hating that she constantly made sense and poked holes in every single thing he said. She truly was a De Martel. It was frustrating and enthralling all at the same time. “Do I not pay you to be nice?” he asked, eyes narrow.

“No,” Fallon answers, downing her wine, standing up and rubbing her hands together. “Now, enough, chit chat. I gotta go meet a man about some molly after this and if you keep yammering you’re gonna make me late. I need money, you need magic. Now what’s the hunk here for?”

Right on time, the aforementioned man woke up with a start and Lucien brought him a glass that could have been wine, but Fallon’s heightened senses told her was actually blood. “Ew, you turned him?” she asked, her nose wrinkling as Lucien forced the very confused Devin to drink.

As soon as he had downed his fill and the fangs had grown in to prove it, Lucien snapped the man’s neck again, dusting off his suit before looking at Fallon. “I need you to put me inside him.”

“You want me to be your fluffer?” she asked, obviously disgusted and starting to head for the door.

“No, Fallon. Jesus Christ. I need you to put my essence, inside of him. I don’t want anyone to recognize me the next time that I leave the house, or for the immediate future.”

“Oh.” That was a lot less gross for her, if she was being honest. “That’s fine. Kinda annoying to do since I have to keep your stupid regular body safe too. You give me a thousand bucks and we’ve got a deal.”

Lucien rolled his eyes, pulling out his wallet and passing Fallon over the amount she asked for. He knew that she extorting him, over charging like hell, but he couldn’t say no to her. She was Aurora’s child, after all.

“Thanks,” she said with a small smile, genuine for once. “Alright, let’s do this, you fucking freak. Lay down. I’ll do the hard part and you just relax.”

Lucien did as she said. It was painless, for him at least. When he woke, his body felt unfamiliar and he grinned, knowing it must have worked. Fallon was already gone, and his body was nowhere in sight. A note from her stated that she had spelled his coffin to be invisible and he couldn’t help but feel proud. She was a good kid.

And him? Well, Lucien Castle was a new man.

#sp #you're on your own kid #WOOHOO

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marymauk · 2 years

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Fic recs: a few things that didn't happen.

Okay idk what holds this rec list together, I am simply going with the vibes. And the vibes say: these guys belong on the same list! Okay, vibes.

time and hour runs through by StarryCleric, T, 6k, Caleb pov

The Mighty Nein are caught off guard and captured one night while traveling across Xhorhas.

Caleb stalls for time.

Caleb, getting tortured: *deep sigh* You're doing it wrong...

put them together and you can hear it (it's the song everyone knows) by elsinorerose, T, 4k, Widojest getting together

"So go on. Convince me."

He catches his breath. "Convince you?"

"Yeah, give me one good reason."

"One good — I can give you twenty good reasons."

"Oh yeah?" Jester says, raising her eyebrows, like she's just so surprised, like she's ready to be so convinced, you guys. "Okay. Go ahead then."

"Go ahead and…?"

"Give me twenty. If you can give me twenty good reasons why we shouldn't be together, you win."

Fluff and Angstttt

we all need someone to hold by QueenWithABeeThrone, T, 5k, Widomauk

The moon is shining bright above them, and in the moonlight Caleb almost seems to glow.

I don’t know if I can let this go, Molly thinks, and it’s a sharp, sobering thought.

or: Molly catches up with the Mighty Nein and pines after Caleb, the latter of which was a lot easier before he died. now things are a little more complicated.

okay okay the part where Caleb tries to pet the hallucinated cat lives in my head rent free

Snow angel by DefaultJane, T, 7k, pre relationship Beauyasha

Yasha and Beau have time to kill and decide to take a moment to experience what is marketed to them as the “authentic sauna experience” by the eccentric woman they meet at Balenpost, said experience including hanging out naked, washing each other’s hair, talking and laughing late into the night...You know, just gals being pals.

yeah, what the summary said

Super Secret Sex Handshakes by Somebodys_Hermione, T, 1k, background Beauyasha and Fjorester

Yasha and Jester keep running into each other at 3am sneaking out of their respective partner's rooms. Like, it *keeps* happening.

Asfdfgdsfsds this is so funny.

infinity in the palm of your hand by mousecookie, T, 6k, Caleb pov

At the end of the blood-spattered Aeorian hall, the Mighty Nein find a rusted iron door.

They also find Essek.

uhh AU where *gasp* Essek is in Eiselcross too..! But like written before we knew Essek was in Eiselcross too. Anyway, remember all those Dynasty explorers Lucien murdered?... Hurt/comfort.

won't leave you behind in the void by essektheylyss (midnightindigo), T, 2k, Essek pov

If there is anything worse than losing all sensation and movement, it might be losing all sensation and movement while entirely untethered, floating in the aorta of a flesh city.

I've reread this... so many times. I simply like the vibes.

#good stuff here..#not that I'd rec you something that wasn't #m9 #critical role #fic recs #the mighty nein #my post

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romeoandjulietyouwish · 1 year

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how did Kingsley get his short hair? this is how

Fjord honestly doesn’t know what to make of Kingsley. The tiefling is still figuring himself out, grappling with a handful of hazy memories and feelings but so far he seems alright. Jester has taken to calling him Fjord’s duckling after the tiefling followed Fjord with wide eyes.

That phase ended quickly thankfully, now it seems that Kingsley has nothing but contempt for his captain. Having spent months learning every position on the ship, it seems that King has entered his “I know better than you” phase. Which, most of the time he does. Doesn’t mean that it’s not annoying as hell though.

Which is why it comes as a surprise when Kingsley appears at his side one day and holds out a pair of scissors to him, “Will you cut my hair?”

Fjord looks at him with a surprised frown, “Huh?”

Kingsley rolls his eyes, “Will you cut my hair? I’d ask Jester but I know she’d fuck it up.” Fjord bites his tongue, Kingsley is also sharper than Molly, speaks his mind more.

“Yeah, yeah, sure I can do that.” Fjord and Kingsley head down into the galley where Fjord sits the tiefling on a stool and wraps a towel around his shoulders. “How short do you want it?”

“Short as you think would look good. I’m sick of looking in the mirror and seeing him.” Fjord isn’t sure if he means Mollymauk or Lucien but figures it’s best not to ask.

“I can do that.” With a nod, Fjord runs his fingers through King’s wavy hair, separating the few salt soaked tangles. After measuring the length with his fingers, Fjord makes the first snip, long strands of purple hair falling to the wooden floor.

“I’m not Mollymauk,” Kingsley says after a long moment, when more of his hair litters the ground.

Fjord’s hands still for a second, but then he gets back to work, “We know that. You’re still trying to figure out who you are.”

Kingsley huffs in frustration, “I know who I fucking am, okay? I’m not a work in progress, I’m not a fragment. I’m fully fucking formed.”

“I’m sorry,” Fjord says as he measures Kingsley’s hair again, making sure it’s all even. “You’re right. Jester and I’ll will be better about that. But for what it’s worth, we do both want to get to know you. I know that Jester has missed having another tiefling around.” Over the past months he’s seen Jester and Kingsley knock their horns together and swat each other with their tails playfully, all things she told him that she missed doing with her mother.

Kingsley hums, his tail swishing back and forth. “I know. You both mean well even if you’re fucking idiots sometimes.”

Fjord chuckles, “Well I won’t deny that.” They fall into silence, the only sound the snipping of hair and the lapping of waves against the ship. And after just a few more minutes, Fjord crosses in front of Kingsley, squinting at his haircut. “I think you’re all done.”

Kingsley reaches up to touch his hair, finding the sides shorn and a long flop of hair between his horns. He can’t help the smile that crosses his face, his fangs showing. For the first time since his rebirth he doesn’t feel like a shadow or a fragment, he feels like Kingsley.

“Thank you...captain,” Kingsley tacks the name on at the end with a smirk.

Fjord claps a hand on his shoulder, “Clean up this hair and then back to work.” Kingsley groans and drags his feet, but he miraculously does as Fjord asks.

#my fic #cr spoilers #critical role #mighty nein #i just have lots of feelings about kingsley okay

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