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ummm Molly aka Lucien has never done anything wrong in his lives, whoops where did all these bodies come from

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MOLLYMAUK TEALEAF — Mighty Nein: Origins

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For Pride - more critical role, I’m a big fan of Mollymauk round this time of year!

“Boys, girls…. And whatever Molly is.”

“Fabulous, thank you.”

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WIP??

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Beauregard Lionette | Critical Role fan art for my ongoing PC project.

Support me on Patreon to help keep personal projects like these alive!

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Pre-campaign Molly working on his coat

my piece for @artists-guild-of-exandria's CriticalRoleFi

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☀️🦄 long may chaos reign ✨🌈

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Nr. 4: Nott the Brave

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We begin in the early hours of the morning on the day of Grissen in a messy room on the second floor of the Nestled Nook Inn. A bleary-eyed, bruised man in a tattered coat slowly wakens from his lengthy sleep, catching his small, snoring ally curled at the foot of the bed.

with how much i rewatch campaign 2 i constantly forget how long ago it started 🤭 episode one never fails to me make me feel nostalgic

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shirt suggestion from @stevonniverse, because if we can't wear it ourselves, we can at least put it on Molly.

Caleb's fashion sense is borrowed from our ginger, also.

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Caleb's library time

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[Critical Role 2x13 minor spoilers] I made a small Mighty Nein comic! This one was in the wip folder forever, probably since this episode aired even! 1/4, more to come!

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Caleb calling out Counterspell as soon as MC turns to Kingsley and says, "Hello Pretty, ready to die again?" Just,, Magic Man still being very protective of his Circus Man (who he's lost too many times already--) Caleb Widogast, who said himself that he never truly felt defeated until the day he thought he lost Tealeaf for good--

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Thinking again about how Mollymauk reacts to Caleb's decision in episode 21. He sees how much Caleb agonizes over it, how panicked he is at the thought of anyone else having access to such a powerful relic--one for communing with a Betrayer god.

But there's something to be said I think, for how Molly's primary concern here isn't over the risks presented by the artifact itself. It's that Caleb feels the need to shoulder the weight of another burden all alone--how potentially self-destructive it could be. He wants Caleb to let it go, because it's not worth losing him to this.

The way he says, gently, "Mr. Caleb...There's only so many burdens we're expected to bear before we're asking for failure."

This coming from Mollymauk, who only made it this far because the circus found him, took care of him. Because he had a family to look out for him, ensure that he never had to feel alone or Empty again.

And it's only now, looking back, that I realize this scene feels very reminiscent of Molly's own "choir practice." For a time, he did try to bear the weight of every burden alone, laid his life on the line time and again. Always running off into the night alone, lying to the rest of the circus about where he'd go.

And it wasn't until Yasha interfered that he finally accepted anyone's help, that he realized he didn't have to get himself killed facing all of it alone:

"This is my choir practice. I know what the others think, but the truth is...How do I put this...The world is harsh and cruel, and I don't seem to be able to just walk on by. You see a wrong? You fix it." "We fix it. You're not doing this alone anymore, got it?"

There's also the implication to me that Molly was recklessly throwing himself into danger time and time again because his grief for Lestera was still so raw and gutting. It ultimately is self-destructive, what he's doing; trying to save everyone else, but letting himself bleed out. Distancing himself from the rest of the circus, disappearing into the night. The fact that it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out--

Mollymauk trying to take care of Caleb, the way Yasha did for him. Telling him that it's alright, he can lay down all the weight he's carrying. He doesn't have to martyr himself, to suffer all alone anymore.

And even though he tells Caleb to give up the bowl, he does try to reassure him a bit--let him know that his instincts weren't wrong, and his concerns are valid. "Oh no, I'm with you." When Beau takes Caleb aside and he's getting stressed, Molly yells, "You were right, Caleb! You're just a shitty communicator!" Anyway, just. I love those little moments when Molly tries to reach out to his Magician--

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Humans are terribly delicate things. 

In Molly’s arms, the mage lies limp, lifeless, deadweight in the water. Skin fading to a sickly pallor, cold as death. Molly bobs and weaves through the chilling tide, scarcely keeping them afloat, fighting against the current. A thrash of his tail, a spray of saltwater; cutting through the surf with deft strokes and quicksilver fins. Ripples of waves, glistening with silvery moonlight in his wake. 

He shook and trembled when Molly pried him free, tore him from the wreckage. Another ship swallowed by storm and sea, another vessel dashed upon the rocks. One survivor clinging feebly to the debris, body acting on instinct, desperate to stay alive—even as his eyes glazed over, lifeless and Empty. 

Caleb Widogast thrashed and screamed when Molly caught him, held him, dragged him from the deep. Nails clawing at his bare back, raking up his spine, drawing blood. Legs uselessly kicking, flailing. Chilled to the bone in the churning sea. 

“Leave me. Leave me,” He’d beg. Plead. Over and over, an endless mantra, words choked out between ragged gasps for air, battered by the roaring wind and pouring rain. 

“Now, now. Enough of that. Easy, easy—I’ve got ya,” Molly soothed. One hand holding him still, another combing through his drenched, tangled hair.

“Hush. Come on now, time to go, Caleb. There’s time for that later. There we are—good boy. That’s it.” Voice a soft, sweet lilt until all the fight drained from him, the human collapsing in his arms with rattled, shaky breaths. Mercifully lost in the reprieve of blessed sleep.

Hate me, Molly thinks, cradling the mortal close. Resent me. Bloody scream all you want. But I won’t let you die on me. That’s not how this works. 

Far away, lost in the fathomless depths below, Mollymauk swears he can feel something waiting. Watching. Eyes red as the fell moon opening wide, staring back at him, lurking in the dark.

In his arms, Caleb shudders.

As with all things, the sea is loathe to let him go. Ours, echoes something far off in the deep. Primal, ancient; settles in his bones and carves away at him. Molly tightens his grip, fangs bared as his claws sink in. “Mine,” he growls in turn, a hiss of mingled Abyssal and Infernal, a desperate cry of something long forgotten. 

He'd die before he'd ever leave someone behind.

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Nott versus the trapped hallway is never not going to be hilarious 😂😭

"I did not handle that very well. I was told to check for traps and I missed MANY of them and I will strive to do better in the future and I'm sorry, and this one ☝️😬 ..... this one's on me"