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avinryd · 7 months

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Cat's Cradle

Author: AvinRyd Fandom: Critical Role Rating: T Pairing: Mollymauk Tealeaf & Yasha, Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast Word Count: ~1,650 Series: Shards and Spells

"...first time I've been glad Molly wasn't there."

- @caitmayart

Saw Cait's fanart (x) and it broke me into little pieces. I put those back together into this.

Read on AO3

On any other night, the soft riffle of worn parchment shuffling would be comforting, meditative work in Mollymauk’s hands. On any other night, there would be a blood-deep satisfaction in the near-inaudible sound of cards placed on threadbare fabric. On any other night, the glow of moonlight would light his spread and sing in his veins and there would be the humming feeling of not only Sehanine’s gentle presence, but a hint of mischievous spark from Jester’s Traveler and, underneath his incense and the floral warmth of the Wildmother, the sharp scent of ozone. Yasha’s Stormlord.

On any other night. But not tonight. Because Yasha is...Yasha is—

Footsteps on the stairs of the Ready Room—ascending, growing louder, stopping on the landing.

“If we’re not discussing how to get her back, I’m not coming downstairs.” Molly says flatly, not looking up from his cards.

“I am not here to fetch you back, Mollymauk.”

Caleb. Soft-spoken, level-headed, absolutely fucking calm Caleb. How can he sound so gods-damned calm? How can all of them be so cold to just walk away and let that door close and—

His mental tirade is interrupted by movement in his periphery. Just off the edge of his tarot cloth, one of Caduces’s wooden bowls slides into view. It’s full of a creamy stew of some sort, dinged iron spoon leaning against the edge, being held by a bandaged hand. It’s followed shortly by a chipped ceramic mug of steaming liquid, borne by a matching other hand. Molly looks up to see Caleb crouched across from him, fancy new coat pooled on the gritty wood floor and not meeting his eyes.

“You need to eat. You’re no good to her wasted away to nothing.”

Molly scoffs. “I’m no good to her stuck here either! Miles and a mountain and a half away, sitting in a fucking military storehouse when I should still be in there, still—”

“Still what, Mollymauk? You wouldn’t still be anything. You would be stabbed through by another gods-verdammt oversized blade and by the time your neat little trick got around to bringing you back, there would be more time wasted than we are using right now.”

Caleb isn’t so soft-spoken, isn’t so calm now. His voice is low, but it’s tense and rough and he’s meeting Molly’s gaze now—deep purple bruising under his eyes and brows furrowed in consternation as he pins Molly with a hard look and it stops his mind short. This Caleb is familiar, for all Molly never actually got to meet him. This is the Caleb that rode up the Glory Run Road, dragging broken friends and compatriots away from a fresh grave to rescue the ones yet living.

Molly swallows the spitting retort that’s fast dying on his devil’s tongue and carefully returns the cards to his deck, inverse of how they’d been placed and rolls up the cloth, sets them both aside and reaches for the bowl.

He eats in silence. Caleb shifts, sits against the bunk that hides Molly’s corner from the rest of the large room and pulls out a loop of silver thread to fiddle with. Moonlight catches in the threads and Molly recognizes the geometric patterns.

“No Molly, if you do it that way—see? You’ve got it tangled now.”

Molly made a face at the snarls of string binding up his wrists and fingers. Yasha only laughed softly and reached to pick apart the knots.

“Where did you even learn this? Practice for building snares in the Xorhassian wastes?”

“Jester taught me while we were at sea. It was a long journey and you run out of things to do on a ship, eventually.”

There was a waft of sea-salt tang rising from the string, nearly masked by the scent of dry parchment and flowers that clung to everything stored in Yasha’s belt-pouch. He wiggled his fingers gleefully once Yasha freed them, then looped the string around once more.

“Alright. Show me again.”

Molly sets the empty bowl aside—when had he finished it? Must have been hungrier than he thought—and scoots over across from Caleb. The wizard has reached a point in the pattern where he can’t move further. Wordless, Molly reaches in and deftly moves the strings, pulls them off Caleb’s hands and into the next pattern, then holds it out.

Their eyes meet in a quick glance, all that Caleb allows, then burn-scarred fingers reach across to pluck at the web spanned between Molly’s hands; gingerly pinching strings together, then looping them around and pulling back. Another familiar pattern. Molly follows along, and so they go, the silence stretching on and growing more comfortable as it does. Comfortable, but it’s not enough to soothe the agitation still simmering in Molly’s blood.

The emotions still boil up in him, horror and fear and anguish that steam out as anger at the situation, anger at his friends, their hesitance, their—

Caleb nudges Molly’s elbow with his own. Their hands are suddenly knotted together—Molly’s hands having spasmed and yanked the careful magic out of true, tangling the thread. Shit. Fuck. Gods damn it all, can't even get a simple children’s game right, let alone anything more useful. He doesn’t move as Caleb slips his own fingers free and starts untangling the thread. Still quiet, movements slow and purposeful and fucking hells below.

“How are you all so calm about this?” He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t.

There is a long moment of silence, Caleb slipping the last knots from the thread and winding it carefully before replying, “Everyone is in shock, Mollymauk. Do not mistake it for apathy.”

“Bullshit. If any of you gave a—” Caleb doesn’t let him finish, talks over him.

“Beauregard hasn’t said a single word since your shouting match three hours and twenty-seven minutes ago. Jester started crying halfway through that argument and hasn’t stopped. Caduceus burned the stew and oversteeped three separate pots of tea. Nott has done nothing but drink since we got back and Fjord has let his accent slip at least four times in that span.”

“And you?” Molly is still stuck on their firebrand wizard and his icy calm all through the ride back to Bazzoxan—stuck and enraged, if he’s honest with himself.

Caleb laughs, dry as dust. “Well.”

He holds out his right hand for inspection and Molly takes in what he hadn’t noticed earlier. The bandages on the outer blade of his hand are scorched brown, black at the edges, and there are red smears in the palm mirrored by the rusty brown caked under burned short nails. Unthinking, he reaches out to cradle it in his own two as Caleb continues,

“Nott told me to find something to do with myself before the proprietor noticed I was burning a hole in their table. So I brought you food.”

The hand in Molly’s grasp is shaking, as if only just being held back from clenching into a fist once more. Molly has to take a moment, has to sit with what Caleb’s just told him. He wants to stay angry, wants it more than anything, because if he’s angry then nothing else can get to him—if he’s angry, the rest of the awful, awful things...

Ah, too late.

Their game of Cat’s Cradle had brought him and Caleb knee-to-knee, so it’s not far to go when Molly slumps forward to knock his head into Caleb’s shoulder. Months and months ago, back when they’d all first met, the Caleb Molly had known would have jerked back on instinct. The Caleb Molly had known wouldn’t have let his hand be held so tenderly either, or played a silly string game with him in grief-stricken silence. This Caleb has done all those things, and more—twisting his hand just enough to clasp around Molly’s forearm in a firm hold.

“I hate this.” Molly says to their laps, forehead pressed into the shoulder seam of Caleb’s fancy new coat. “Is this what it felt like? When I… When I was gone?”

“Nein,” Caleb replies, harsh and certain. Molly jerks upright at the tone.

“How?”

Caleb’s frown deepens. “You were dead, Mollymauk. You were dead and you were gone and we mourned you.” His hand tightens on Molly’s arm. “Yasha is not. She is alive, and we may not be strong enough yet, but we will get her back. I don’t— I’m not sure how we can, but we will, Molly. I swear it.”

Caleb’s free hand has lifted to rub at his face and Molly sees a smear of crimson when it comes away—a cut on his jaw that should have been healed many cleric spells ago. There’s dried blood crusted under the nails of that hand as well. Had he picked open that shaving nick over the course of the night?

There’s a hard lump in Molly’s throat that he tries to swallow past, but can’t. It blocks all his words except the few syllables he needs to send up to the Moonweaver as he reaches out to touch Caleb’s jaw. The silver crescent charm on his horn chimes softly as it spins and hits keratin, and a sparkle of divine blue light dances in the blue of Caleb’s eyes as Molly draws on the absolute last of his strength to seal up the tiny cut. He doesn’t move his hand after—keeps it there to feel the subtle movement of Caleb adjusting his jaw, relaxing clenched teeth.

It’s not far to go when their foreheads press together, made shorter by Caleb leaning in to meet him halfway. Molly lets his hand drop to fall atop Caleb’s wrapped ones in their laps, closes his eyes and tries to just breathe—he feels like he hasn’t properly since that door closed.

It hurts. It’s going to hurt for a good long while yet, he reckons. But it’ll hurt a damn sight less once they’ve got Yasha back.

#critical role #critical role c2 #widomauk #critical role fanfiction #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #molly lives!AU #avinryd #fics of ryd #series: Shards and Spells

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omgrachwrites · 6 months

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Wicked Game - Chapter One

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Weasley!Reader

Summary: When you realise just how bad your parents financial situation is you make a deal with your fathers boss.

Warnings: muggle au, fluff, angst, swearing

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this! The other chapters are going to be longer and this is going to be a relatively slow burn. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

masterlist

Chapter One

You knew that your parents were struggling financially, you had always known, especially when you were at school. They had managed to send all eight of you to an exclusive boarding school so you never minded that your things were second-hand, you thought they added more charm. Now, that you were out of school, it seemed as though your parents were struggling even more, your dad’s boss, Mr Riddle had cut his hours right down.

Arthur and Molly were too proud to ask for help – despite having an array of friends who would drop everything to help – and they had denied your help more than once. You really didn’t want to see your family out on the street so you decided to take drastic measures.

“I’m heading to London today,” you told your mum as you sat down for breakfast on a warm summer’s morning.

Before she could reply, your twin brother spoke up, “Why, what’s in London? I thought you weren’t at the shop today.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ron, just because your nose is enormous doesn’t mean you should be poking it in other people’s business,” you flicked his nose causing him to bat your hand away and he scowled at you, the tips of his ears turning red.

After a quick breakfast, you were out the door and on the way to London, despite being pretty far out in the countryside you only needed one train to get there. The journey seemed to go by so quickly and soon enough you were walking into the lobby of the high rise building. It was so quiet and clean that it seemed clinical. The receptionist looked at you with wide eyes when you told her who you were there to see but you weren’t waiting long until she led you into Mr Riddle’s office.

As you walked in, trying to stop your hands from shaking, the older man looked up at you and took in your appearance, “you’re Arthur Weasley’s daughter,” it wasn’t a question as he gestured for you to sit down.

You nodded as you cleared your throat and sat down, “y-yes, Sir.”

“And what does Arthur Weasley’s daughter want with me?” he asked as he went back to signing the papers on his desk.

“My parents need help,” Mr Riddle glanced up at you with a raised eyebrow and you elaborated, “financial help.”

“Ah,” he had a ghost of a smirk on his face as he dropped his pen on top of his papers and leaned back in his leather wing backed chair, “if your parents hadn’t of had an army of children maybe they’d be in a much more comfortable position.”

It was amazing how quickly your fear turned to anger and you couldn’t stop the next words that fell from your lips, “well maybe if you gave my dad reasonable hours then I wouldn’t be here,” you folded your arms and narrowed your eyes.

Riddle blinked at you before letting out a harsh laugh that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, “my dear, all working hours have been cut since the war ended.”

“Still, there must be something I can do, please I’ll do anything,” you didn’t mean to beg but you were getting desperate now. Why wouldn’t he help you? A man in his position of power was exactly the sort of man who would help you, but he wouldn’t, not for nothing in return.

“You would do anything to save your family from ruin?” when you nodded he smirked and buzzed for the receptionist, “Bella find my son and send him in.”

Moments later, Mattheo Riddle came striding into the room like he owned it, he was even more handsome than he had been in school with the same sullen look on his face. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw you standing in his father’s office but he nodded at you all the same.

“Y/N.”

“Hi, Mattheo.”

“You see, Y/N,” Riddle started “I have been trying to make a marriage for my son and at every turn he has rejected several extraordinary women,” Mattheo flushed and his eyes dropped to the floor at his father’s words, “you see, it’s very difficult for those fools to take me seriously at the Ministry without a marriage. You say you would do anything to save your family? Marry my son.”

Matteo’s eyes widened, “father,” he started but fell silent as Riddle gave him a hard look.

Riddle looked back at you, “accept and your family will want for nothing. Refuse, and I will make their life a living hell.”

This was the last thing you expected – or wanted – your heart was in your throat but you had started all of this and now you had to see it through. Briefly, you wondered why he would ask you, given Riddle’s opinion of your family. But you realised it was to keep you in line, you weren’t an idiot. You glanced at Mattheo who refused to look at you and you turned back to Riddle.

“When you put it that way, how can I refuse? Of course, you leave me no choice but to accept.”

Riddle smirked, “excellent, I’ll make the necessary arrangements. Mattheo, please show our guest out.

The younger Riddle glared at you as he gripped your elbow and steered you out of the room, “what the fuck, Y/N? Why would you do that?!” he hissed.

You managed to shake him off by the time you got to reception, “you heard your dad, I didn’t have a choice!” you conveniently ‘forgot’ to tell him that it was you who had sought Riddle out.

“You’re going to regret this,” there was a fire blazing in his usually cold brown eyes.

“Trust me, I already do,” you scowled.

As you got home, you had a guilty feeling in the pit of your stomach so you decided to shut yourself in your room. Your parents were going to be so disappointed. You were shut in your room all day, even when Hermione came to visit. You didn’t see anyone till later that evening when your dad barged in.

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

“Mattheo Riddle.”

Your heart sank like a rock as you looked at your dad’s disappointed face, “what do you want to know?”

“You’re not marrying him, Y/N.”

“I already accepted.”

“Well unaccept!”

“I can’t!” you sighed, “you guys needed help, I never meant for it to get this far but it’s done. If I refuse he will make our lives hell, you know he will. All I wanted was to help,” but you feared you had made things worse.

“We never wanted this for you, Y/N,” Arthur sighed as he awkwardly lingered in the doorway.

“Look dad, I know and I’m sorry. I’ll try and get out of it somehow.”

Arthur nodded with a sigh as he left the room, knowing the conversation was over and knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to change your mind.

A couple of minutes later, you decided that you needed some air, you all but crept by the living room where Riddle was having a hushed conversation with your parents. As you headed towards the back door, Harry called after you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You groaned and turned to face him, knowing that he’d have something to say, he always did, “Harry, please. I really don’t need a lecture off you, of all people.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Harry laughed, throwing up his hands in mock defence, “I’m not going to lecture you. It was brave what you did, stupid,” he added “but brave.”

You laughed, “I agree with the stupid part, but thanks Harry,” you grinned.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be a Riddle though,” he said with a look of distaste on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s a real tragedy,” you laughed, “see you, Harry,” you shot him a wave as you headed outside into the warm summer air.

The air smelled sweet, like honeysuckle and lemon and you gazed around the wild garden, feeling sadness linger in the pit of your stomach. You spotted Mattheo sitting on the garden wall, smoking a cigarette. With a sigh, you walked over to him and sat next to him as he nodded at you.

“It’s nice out here,” he nodded at the strings of fairy lights that had been weaved through the flowering bushes, “you caused quite a stir it seems,” he mumbled as he blew out a plume of smoke, being careful to not let it get in your face.

“Well, it was getting boring around here, so I thought I’d spice it up,” you laugh as Mattheo’s lips almost quirked up into a smirk, “so,” you started, “what’s your reason for agreeing to marry me? What’s in it for you?”

He scoffed as he looked at you with brown eyes so unlike his dad’s cold blue ones, “my father says jump, I ask how high.”

“Oh,” you bit your lip, you couldn’t imagine having that sort of relationship with your family, “I’m sorry,” you hadn’t just ruined your life, you’d ruined his too.

Mattheo pulled a face, “don’t be silly, you don’t have to apologise for anything. Look, Y/N, despite what the papers say about me, I’m not a monster. I’ll treat you how you deserve to be treated but, Y/N, I’m never going to love you. If that’s what you’re looking for, you’re going to be disappointed.”

Personally, you thought love was overrated, people did stupid things when they were in love, “well, I’m never going to love you either.”

“Perfect,” he nodded, flicking the stub of his cigarette away.

“So, when do you take me away from my family?” you joke.

“Not until the wedding, my dad wanted you to move in straight away but I convinced him there was no need.”

“Thank you.”

The handsome boy looked at you in bewilderment, like he didn’t know why you would thank him, “don’t look for any redeeming qualities in me, Y/N. I have none.”

Before you could reply, Riddle was striding across the garden, “we’re leaving, Mattheo.”

“I guess I’ll see you soon,” the boy nodded at you before disappearing up the country lane.

With a sigh, you headed back inside the house to find everyone sitting around the table. As you walked in they all stared at you as you sat down. Sirius looked impressed while Lily looked like she felt sorry for you. You knew that someone was dying to say something.

“Just don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you reached for your glass of juice.

It was silent for a couple of moments before Ginny spoke up, “hey, at least he’s hot,” everyone let out a nervous laugh and fell into an uneasy conversation as they waited for dinner.

#fluff #au #mattheo x weasley!reader #mattheo x reader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle #reader insert #weasley!reader #tom riddle #arthur weasley #molly weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter #ginny weasley #muggle au #everyone lives au

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edwards-exploit · 7 months

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Human AU Goofin: featuring Great Western Engine Drivers, early NWR Thomas and Edward, streamlined shenanigans, soft togetherness, and yellow wearing ladies!

#live from tidmouth #ttte #thomas and friends #ttte human #ttte humanized #ttte duck #ttte oliver #ttte edward #ttte thomas #ttte connor #ttte caitlin #ttte spencer #ttte henry #ttte 2×3 #edwardxhenry #ttte rebecca #ttte molly #creative on the mainline #ttte human au

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fauvester · 1 year

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how do garak and bashir feel about being grandparents?, also since theres a third elim (3lim) ((if i read tht right,,,,)

garak and bashirs parenting styles are reversed for grandparenting. julian's a total sap for his grandkids, taking them on trips and buying them elaborate educational toys. garak is the reserved victorian grandfather smoking a pipe in the study talking about The Old Days and ordering them around (especially in the garden, his knees aren't what they used to be.)

Bashir is still annoyed at the passage of time seeing fit to give his children (who, in his mind, are still kids) children of their own. Rude!

#dee s 9 #garashir adoption au #julian w baby one like Oh what a dear! 1 yr later with baby 2 We call these Irish Twins on Earth!#a year after that with baby 3 like Lim don't you think this is getting a little excessive. You havent got any record to beat #a year after THAT with baby 4 like WAS MY EDUCATION ON CONTRACEPTION DEFICIENT? I THOUGHT I EXPLAINED EVERYTHING QUITE CLEARLY.#lim and his wife live just a mile or so away.. they can hang out with their grandparents in the countryside around lakat #julian is the Strict Dad and the fun grandparent. garak is the 'mischief if you can get away with it' dad and the stern old grandfather #HOOGH.. thinkin bout julian and miles bonding over their kids having kids... going on grandpa adventures #lim and molly swapping parenting tips..#molly drops her own kids off on prime when she's doing research in the quadrant n they rough it with their lizard cousins for a few weeks #3LIM!!!#u know garak uglycried in private when lim named his baby elim (III). he didnt specify which elim garak hes named after. dealers choice #thank YOUUUUU for always asking fun QUESTIONSSSSSSS!!! LOVA YOUUUU

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justmwahstruly · 6 months

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woah @kumakooo whiteborb doodles

hhhhhh

wooo silly steampunky stuffs (yall already seen the ones for @/koifsssh ehehehgege)

eee pretty lady…

NEW OC DROP SKSJFJG

Her name is Creedence, and I am never drawing her normal puppet version. She is a silly i made for the steampunk au! (maybe ill finish her ref… someday…)

waho— *explosed*

and actually yk what we’ll add these silly doodles too (from @/cutepotatook) magma)

just two lil sillies :]

NOW waho— *epxolsed*

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dent-de-leon · 9 months

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AU where Azahari "Hollows" Lucien, and Caleb comes across a living doll/puppet in a little cottage in the woods. His heart aches for someone else whose autonomy and free will was stolen from them, another victim whose mind and memories were twisted by a powerful mage. He helps him escape the hag and gives him the name Molly--

#i have thoughts on this #but also #i have basically written stuff for the opposite--au where caleb goes to the hag in the savalirwoods after molly dies in shadycreek #asking her to grant him a wish #and she brings back molly but he feels hollow and empty and--#something something the parallels between a hag who tore about the lives of three tiefling children in the woods #and caleb's story about the waldhexe--#i am simply weak for widomaukery parallels #and still absolutely fascinated by how wrapped up the tavelle family was with a hag from the cursed woods #forever wondering what molly would think if he'd met isharnai--

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captainkingsley · 11 months

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Mollymauk knows it's a long shot. Hell, it's probably a shorter shot to throw his scimitars to Tal'dorei — but he knows he'll never forgive himself if he doesn't ask. There will always be a part of him that will nag at the back of his thoughts if he doesn't say something.

(And Yasha will nag him, too. Which is probably worse, because he can't disappoint Yasha.)

So he breathes deep, runs his hands over his hair, and stares at the mirror for just a moment longer.

"Alright, Tealeaf. You can do this. You've only been friends through near apocalyptic catastrophe — this won't affect you or your friendship if he says no." He says, now gripping the edge of the sink. It's a rather nice looking sink, actually, but that's to be expected in Rexxentrum. Not the basins or tubs of smaller towns, but proper water service running through the city, and yes, he knows he's stalling thinking of running water versus still basins of water, but he's itchy with anxiety.

Mollymauk breathes deep, pulling his coat on once more — not the old coat, that had been ripped and turned into a blanket by Yasha, since she knew just how important it was to him — and he inspects himself once more.

He's grown. His hair has grown out, closer to how he'd had it before he'd met the Nein. He's added a couple more tattoos, one visible from the open collar of his new, silky blue shirt, a peek of vibrant lines of a tree branch extending up from his ribcage and onto his pectoral muscle opposite the peacock. Some of it seems to glitter in the light thanks to Orly's handiwork. Molly thinks it looks rather nice with the rest of his ink, and he hopes everyone else does, too.

One person in particular.

He fiddles with his sleeves, picks at his fingernails for a moment before turning with a new determination to the door.

Say it now while you've got the chance, he tells himself.

The rest of the Nein are beginning to head up to the room where Caleb has set up the tower for the night. The last few remaining are Yasha, Veth, and Caleb — Yasha meets Molly's eyes and seems to read him immediately, giving him the shortest smile and a nod of encouragement before she begins to head up.

"Veth, you should come with me," Yasha says, "I have something to show you."

Oh, Moonweaver bless you, Yasha, Molly thinks.

Veth asks what it is Yasha wants, but Yasha simply stammers through some excuses as she encourages Veth to follow. Once they've both disappeared up the stairs, Molly finds his pulse quickening.

It's been quite some time traveling together. Caleb looks tired, but he also looks accomplished, happy, healthier than he had in the beginning. Molly finds that the most attractive part of him, these days, that he looks like he's happy with himself. Confidence, newfound steadiness in himself.

He thinks back to the things they've done, the risks they've taken for each other. How many fights had turned to Mollymauk diving in front of Caleb to take a hit, to defend him from something that would easily cut through Caleb's coat, and in turn his body?

Caleb seems to be reading Mollymauk in return, but what he's thinking, Molly can't tell. He's too scared to imagine what he's thinking of.

So instead he avoids eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's been a journey," Molly says, watching as Caleb collects his things from the table.

"It has." Caleb says, sounding level and noncommittal. "We've come a long way from hunting demon toads."

"Devil toads," Molly corrects, and he watches the corner of Caleb's lips turn upward in a smile.

"Devil toads. Yes." Caleb says. "You seem like you have a question?"

"I… I do, actually, yes." Mollymauk says. He rubs his hands together anxiously, thinking for a moment that if he were a cricket he would be the noisiest one alive, swiped up by a predatory bird faster than he can comprehend.

But he's just a tiefling in a tavern with a good friend, hoping not to embarrass himself.

"I was actually wondering… Now that we're, you know, some of us are splitting ways, some are going with each other," he thinks of Beau and Yasha. "I was wondering where you plan to end up?"

Caleb hums.

"I was thinking just outside of the city," Caleb says. "Any particular reason to ask?"

"Well," Molly says, drawing the word out. "You know, I was with the circus, and that's… not an option any longer. And while sure, sure, Lucien had family I could track down, it seems a bit rude to pursue that, gods only know if they'd want anything to do with me, so…"

Caleb says nothing. He only stares at Mollymauk with a raised brow.

"... And Yasha and Beau are definitely going to have their own thing going on, so I was thinking maybe I could, you know, stick around town, find a spot around here, and maybe…"

Gods, when did his palms get so sweaty?

Is he shaking?

Why is asking this so much harder than propositioning a stranger?

(They've only risked their lives for each other, been through hell and back, torn down a near demigod to keep each other safe. Normal bonds of friendship.)

"I'd like to see you now and then, now that things are settling down, and I was wondering how you'd feel about…"

Caleb's watching him so closely now. Mollymauk feels his face burning.

"Mollymauk." Caleb says. Molly stops in his stammering.

"Yeah?" He says, his voice more a squeak than a vocalization.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

Molly finds that the wood grain of the floor sort of looks like a dragon from this angle.

He swallows.

"Yes?" He says, not looking up.

"I think, well. We are definitely at a good place to think about these things," Caleb says, "Though I do plan to take some students, and to chase down the remaining evidence of the Assembly and their actions…"

"I'm flexible," Molly says, and then he pauses. Don't make him uncomfortable. "My schedule is flexible. I'm sorry. Didn't mean —"

"I think, perhaps, it would be nice to see how flexible you are, Mollymauk Tealeaf." Caleb laughs, and Molly finds himself taken aback.

"You—" he starts, then laughs in return. "Caleb?"

He gets only a smile in return.

And oh, what a smile it is. Mollymauk feels his knees go a little weak, finds laughter bubbling in the back of his throat as Caleb ushers him forward for a hug, arms wrapping around him. When he pulls away, he feels hands on his shoulders,

lips against his forehead.

Mollymauk says nothing, but he smiles.

A return gesture, a promise of more.

It's not quite love yet, he thinks, but it's a start.

An ending to one story and the first page of another.

#widomauk #rly feeling the slow burn post campaign Molly lives au stuff recently #and some alternate storyline ideas but I'm not digging into those. i am sleepy and this is unedited but it's a Drabble

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theanoninyourinbox · 1 year

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an interesting ask for hypoparents if they're still open... what would hawkfrost, mothwing, tadpole, and darktail look/be like if their parents were swapped (so hawkfrost, mothwing, and tadpole are onestar x smoke kits and darktail is a tigerstar x sasha kit)??? :o

OwO very interesting! I did change Darktail a bit because Tigerstar would Not Allow his kit to be indirectly named after Darkstripe lol

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demenior · 5 months

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i literally do not remember if i've already sent an ask but if i haven't i would love to hear about the critrole werewolf AU pretty please! and if i have. then i would like to hear about it again anyway 👐

Check my list of current wips here and send me a title and I’ll post a bit or share some details about it.

The CritRole Werewolf au is a mighty nein werewolf au. I set it in a vaguely modern world, but... in the 90s/early 00's. I wanted it to have some Buffy/Blair Witch/Lost Boys vibes. Like, grotesque and terrifying but with moments of absurd humor and a really bitchin' soundtrack. The Brjeau's are, loosely, the main characters.

Beau and Fjord were the intro duo. They're amateaur ghost hunters touring the country's most haunted locations. They're using Beau's absent fathers' credit card to fund them sleeping in Fjord's work van and get them access to dope shit like handheld video cameras and microphones that Beau uses to prove the supernatural is real. (Fjord films/runs tech. He a) doesn't believe in the supernatural and b) is terrified of it).

They pair up with Caleb- a mysterious dude in a long duster coat with a weird accent who may or may not be a monster hunter, and Veth- who's definitely just some normal housewife who just so happens to hate werewolves and definitely isn't one. They join the team after a scary event where Fjord is lost for a few days in some weird haunted place/sacred temple to some old forgotten wolf god. Caleb and Veth want to make sure Fjord isn't cursed, Beau is thrilled to be proven right that the supernatural exists, and Fjord thinks this is all ridiculous. So what that he's been having some weird dreams? That doesn't mean anything.

(You can see where this is going).

To keep things reigned in, I tried to limit all the supernatural entities to just werewolves (save for Fjord's eventual eldritch horror wolf thing he has going on).

Yasha, Caduceus, Fjord, Veth and Jester are all werewolves. Some of them were born werewolves, some of them were turned. Some were turned willingly, some not(t). Caleb and Beau remain Team Human (though Scourgers are now werewolf hunters, and through grueling training are a weird almost "half" werewolf, so they can't be turned).

#If I included Molly he would be killed during Fjord's first transformation #to keep things loosely in line with canon events.#caleb would be a reformed hunter who got kicked out of hunting society #bc he started to go hey what if werewolves AREN'T just mindless killing machines?#and astrid n eadwulf blocked him #i have it loosely set in north america #to really keep the buffy slash scooby doo slash lost boys vibes #but then LMAOOO god i started talking about an ukotoa temple #aka some sort of evil wolf spirit temple thing #where fjord gets cursed #and like???? where would you find THAT in north america??? what am i on???#anyways that will need some finessing #but otherwise this is purely an au of no thoughts just vibes #caddy has a fun genetic condition in that he is a werewolf born to werewolf parents #but he actually cannot shift! he's in his lil human form only #yasha is a naturally born werewolf as well and has mostly lived away from humans #veth was of course forcefully turned when her family was attacked #jester met artagan (a werewolf. more like a coyote lmao) and thought he was so neat #she let him bite her so they could play together more #jester acts more like a dog and doesn't get why everyone is so obsessed with violence #(until she gets it)#and fjord is of course cursed and has no control of his cursed form #all the other werewolves are just like... people that also turn into wolves #fjords curse is where the mindless beast myths come from and hes just a big ol killing machine #anyways.... yeah! thats the crittyrole werewolf au #if you (or anyone) wants more #i have about 800 words written that i can share #wip #werewolves #critical role

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thelilreddragon · 8 days

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If only James and Lily got to cuddle and calm Harry when he snuggles in their bed in the middle of the night because of a nightmare. If only they got to wipe Harry's tears away and heal his scraped knee to make the pain go away.

That made me so sad… so I wrote about it :)

“Mumma!”

“Yes, love?”

“Can you chase the boggart out from under my bed?”

“I already did that, sunflower. He’s not there anymore.”

“But he issss!” Harry whined, clutching his stuffed dragon tighter. “Norbert checked! And Norbert says he’s still there!”

“Alright then. If Norbert says that there’s still a boggart, then I assume Mummy and Daddy should keep you here till morn, yeah?” Harry grinned.

“Yeah! I think that’s right!”

“Mumma!”

“Yes, love?”

“Ron pushed me off my broom!”

“Did you hurt yourself, sunflower?”

“A lil! But I took it like a lion, Mumma!” Lily looked at her boy standing proudly, with tear stains in the grime and sweat on his face from his quidditch match with his best mate.

“I see that! Can I see your knee?” She gestured to the glaring red spot on his kneecap, and Harry obliged by plopping down on the picnic blanket that she shared with Molly.

“Ronald needs to slow down! I just keep telling Fred and George to stop pushing him, but the pair won’t listen to me! Maybe I’ll have to ask Arthur-“ Molly babbled, while Lily grabbed some peroxide from her first aid kid.

“It’s going to sting, sunflower.”

“I can take it, Mumma!” Lily pressed the gauze with peroxide onto his cut, and Harry cried out. “Nevermind, Mumma! I can’t take it!”

“That’s okay, my love! It’s all clean now! Let me put some gauze over it, and you can go back to your match, yeah?”

“Okay, Mumma! Thove you, Mummy!” She placed it over his scrape, and watched as he bounded away without another word. His contraction of thank and love was something James taught him, when he ran out of breath once. It became a household thing since.

“Lily, dear, you can definitely use magic to heal his cuts. It lessens the scarring!” Molly admonished her, pushing a sandwich into her hand.

“I could, Mols, but it’s the small things that I can savour. You never know what may happen.”

#harry potter au #baby harry potter #jily fic #jily lives #Lily knows #Molly and lily are besties

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yumpotatoe · 2 years

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In a Snape lives Au, Molly would knit him a sweater that deviates from her normal plain colours and would instead have silvery lightning-bolt-like patterns all over that resemble his scars, because deep down her mom instincts tell her that he is more insecure than he’d like to admit about his scars.

#snape lives au #pro snape #severus snape #molly weasley #it’s so cute 🥹#she would definitely do this #I mean come on

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thicctails · 5 months

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HP au idea that exists purely BC I think it would be cute to draw: baby wixen are born fluffy/fuzzy and kinda look like owlets before they get their adult feathers or very fuzzy kittens.

#this is also an excellent scenario for angst bc you know the Dursley's would shave lil tiny Harry till he looked “normal”#which tips off the wizarding world that their golden saviour might not be living the life they all imagine he had #molly would knit him so many sweaters #think of the potential snuggle piles #hp #harry potter #harry potter au

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raointean · 2 years

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Fred lives (AU from Umbridge onward)

During Order of the Phoenix, Umbridge restrains herself to blood quills for the underage student population. For the adult students (age 17 and upwards) however, she uses the cruciatus curse, her logic being that they are adults and should be able to conduct themselves properly by now.

Fred and George are natural troublemakers and, as such, get a fair amount of detention towards the beginning of the year. They try to get it together to avoid being tortured, but Umbridge has already decided that she hates them and will use any reason to put them in detention, separately.

Now, the cruciatus curse can have many different long-term-effects and affects each person differently. Physically, it can cause numbness, pain, and/or shaking in the extremities and deterioration of fine motor skills. Mentally, it can cause hallucinations, short-term memory loss, long-term memory loss, and, in extreme cases, a chronic vegetative state.

By February, both twins are beginning to experience some of these permanent after-effects. Fred develops a tremor in his hands and is generally in some sort of pain due to the nerve damage. George begins to have trouble with his short-term memory, but he just chalks it up to stress from Umbridge and the upcoming NEWTS.

Usually during detention, Umbridge will cast the cruciatus curse for ~2-3 minutes and then let the student rest a little. (I don’t want to KILL them! What kind of monster do you take me for?) In May, she has a detention with George (for talking in class).

She casts the curse but George accidentally hits his head on the corner of her desk. Later in the detention, she gets so involved in grading that she forgets to remove the curse for a whopping ten minutes (and no, she doesn’t even pretend to apologize). George staggers back to the common room afterwards and collapses in bed.

From that day forward, his memory is notably much worse. Where previously it was things like “When was that assignment due?” and “Did I eat breakfast this morning?”, it’s become more like “Which house am I in?”, “Where am I going and what am I doing?”, and “What’s that one sibling’s name again?”.

George is afraid that his memory will only get worse if he has another detention and he talks to Fred about dropping out and leaving the school. Fred understands where he’s coming from, but wants to stay since they’re almost done with the year anyway. George doesn’t want to leave without Fred so he stays as well until one morning, he wakes up and can’t remember a thing about anything.

Fred wakes him up and George asks him who he is. This, naturally, freaks Fred out. He decides to wait a day and see if it clears up so they skip class. The next day it does, in fact, clear up, but both twins are now aware of the damage the curse can do and they start planning their great escape immediately.

They leave and start Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and quickly discover some... difficulties. Fred’s hands shake so much, he can’t make most of the potions properly and George keeps forgetting what the names of their products are and how much they cost.

They reshuffle tasks. George takes charge of all of the potion work and Fred heads up the sales. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes flourishes until they close down for the war.

Fast-forward to the Battle of Hogwarts and Fred is injured and is rushed to St. Mungo's (JK Rowling who?). The entire Weasley family (plus Harry, Hermione and Fleur) congregate at The Burrow because none of them really want to be alone.

One morning, two days after the battle, George comes down for breakfast looking slightly confused. He looks around the table and asks Molly where Fred is. Molly answers that he's still at St. Mungo's, assuming that George was still half-asleep and that's why he was confused. George realizes that he must have forgotten something important and asks why Fred is in the hospital.

Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione all simultaneously remember George's memory problems. Ron steps in and tells him about the Battle of Hogwarts and that Fred was injured but he should be fine.

Molly is now very very confused so George explains what happened; he struggles with short term memory loss due to prolonged exposure to the cruciatus curse and a head injury.

Everyone is shocked and horrified. Molly and Arthur ask why he never said anything earlier, but George doesn’t remember. He assumes that he and Fred had their reasons though.

Eventually, Fred is released from St. Mungo’s and he and George go back to work. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes is thriving more than ever before and soon enough, they open a pharmacy/adaptive equipment store called Weasley’s Apothecary adjacent to the joke shop.

They sell all the regular pharmacy potions; pepper-up, cure-for-boils, skele-gro, essance of dittany, murtlap essence, and so on. They also sell rarer potions like wolfsbane. One of Weasley’s Apothecary’s main attractions is their line of PTSD related potions; dreamless sleep, calming draught, and draught of relaxment.

Another thing that sets them apart is their sale of adaptive equipment. They sell magical earplugs that filter only what the user wants to here. They sell magical prosthetics with all sorts of attachable doodads (all compatible with WWW products). There are gloves, arm braces, and leg braces to help stabilize weak or shaky limbs (Fred swears by these). They also invented a watch that remembers everything you tell it (schedules, recipes, task lists, price lists, etc.) and will repeat it back to you (George never leaves home without his).

#harry potter au #fred lives au #fred weasley #george weasley #dolores umbridge #molly weasley #arthur weasley #cruciatus curse #disability #ptsd #short term memory loss #nerve damage #chronic pain #head injury #weasley twins #Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes #adaptive equipment

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nellasbookplanet · 2 years

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I've never liked the term 'fix-it fic'.

When I read and/or write a fic with a different pairing than in canon, it doesn’t mean I necessarily think the canon pairing is wrong and needs to be fixed. When I read alternate endings where someone lives instead of dies, it doesn’t mean I think the original story should’ve kept that character alive.

It’s all about possibility, curiosity, exploring dynamics we only glimpsed or didn’t get around to at all in canon. I recognize the themes and their importance and see how these things might actively have worsened the source material, but in a fic, operating under different themes and having zero impact on the canonical outcome? It’s fun to explore. It doesn’t mean I wanted it to happen in canon.

But sometimes I come across people who seem to think the only reason people read so called fix-it fics (god, I really do hate that name) is because they’re in denial, unaware of or doesn’t grasp the themes of the source material, too immature to handle dark themes in fiction (and, if the accuser is feeling especially mean, therefore too immature to handle the darker aspects of real life).

Conversely, there certainly are fix-its written with the express purpose of 'fixing'. Sometimes they are even right! (something being canonical doesn't automatically make it good, you know?) But most of the time they come off as dismissive, entitled, and, yes, even as denial of the canonical themes in favor of others (often much more shallow and not as supported by the narrative), and are also the exact kind of fics that I avoid.

Much as I enjoy a Molly lives-fic (I just want to see him interact with the nein and find out about all the hijinks they got up to post his death!), erasing Kingsley and ignoring his purpose as a character feels wrong. Writing off Jester's feelings for Fjord as comp-het or their relationship as toxic to facillitate another pairing (what would Jester finding out about Beau’s or Caleb’s feelings have looked like? let's explore!) feels dismissive of her character and ignores much of her development and growing understanding of romance over the course of the campaign. Shadowgast fics that write off Caleb’s feelings for Jester (or even retroactively give him feelings for Molly instead) feels dismissive of Caleb as a character.

But the assumption that ALL alternate happy endings, everybody lives nobody dies, different main pairing-fics operate under 'canon sucks and I refuse to engage with the narrative themes, also I refuse to reckon with death and tragedy as a concept' is just. Mean and dismissive, and the term fix-it fic doesn't help in fighting that.

#there’s such a stark difference between au's written as #'this didn’t happen and that’s probably for the best but WHAT IF IT HAD? lets explore that!'#and #'this didn’t happen and that OBJECTIVELY SUCKS and anyway fuck canon I'm fixing it'#anyway this is why i will never use fix-it as a term unless i truly despise canon #(in which case why would i even write fanfic for it?)#and I'm always a little suspicious of fics that advertise themselves as a fix-it instead of an au #i don’t want to read about how much the author hates the canon pairings i want to read an exploration of a non-canon one #nor do i want to read about how much they hate taliesins choice to create kingsley i just want to read about molly hanging out #anyway. au's all the way #i have room in my heart both for the source material and the weird little fics that explore various implausible happenings #critical role #cr2 #i have similar feelings for other fandoms as well #such as fma where I'm always looking for good greed-lives fics. i just want more of the funky humunculous man #nella talks cr

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