#a soul that the moonweaver found in every life

[dent-de-leon]

1 week until solstice live show...begging with my heart in my hands for Taliesin to play Kingsley, even just for a bit--

[salamoonder]

i’ve been trying to gather my thoughts and theories on the whole molly situation for quite a while (like literally months) and with the reveal at the end of last night’s ep i think i can finally throw my hat in the ring.

*deep breath*

okay, SO:

there’s no way this is molly. or at least, not fully molly or only molly. as many other people have pointed out, molly wouldn’t have a) left his coat b) gone anywhere with cree c) not immediately gone to find--if not the m9, then yasha.

HAVING SAID THAT. i don’t think molly is gone.

while i fully believe that molly was content with his death/probably wouldn’t have wanted to be brought back and it’s anyone’s guess as to whether the nein or anyone else for that matter could’ve actually raised him with that in mind in accordance to matt’s resurrection rules, i also think that it’s not entirely possible to separate molly from that body.

much as i hate to say this and much as i think molly would’ve also hated it (vague grumbles about trans meta that i will put together later), i don’t think molly was ever fully separated from lucien--at least not memory wise. i think the lucien hardware, for lack of a better term, was always there, just not in use/inaccesible.

following that, it would make sense that you can’t have lucien without at least background hardware molly, either.

i’m not sure i even believe this is lucien though.

in my mind, whatever it was that caused molly to crawl out of the grave the first time (literal nine lives, one for every eye? deal with a devil in a past life (secret subclass warlock molly???) raised by the moonweaver for some higher purpose?) could’ve just straight up raised him again as a third, equally disoriented amnesiac, who was discovered and bent to a purpose by cree.

alternatively, cree found the gravesite and raised him herself. i’ve been thinking maybe she raised molly and GR’ed him to lucien, but the more i think about that the less it makes sense. cree had no personal connection to molly. i don’t believe the nein could’ve raised him; why would cree be able to? i think it’s possible that she just raised lucien. or...appealed to that particular soul, i suppose, and since they’re interconnected, ended up also dragging molly back, unwilling and no longer in control.

all of that being said, i think...we have no way of knowing how many times this has happened. if molly/lucien/whoever keeps crawling out of graves or being rezzed, how do we know this is the second time? it could be the fifth or the sixth for all we know...personally i am inclined to believe that whatever and whoever the “original” was made a deal with some higher power, allowing him to dedicate his life to an extremely risky purpose (godkilling, perhaps? an ultimate weapon against tharizdun? or for tharizdun?) by giving him multiple chances. not unlimited lives, per se, maybe just, i don’t know...nine.

[justahumblebard]

Grief

Mollymauk Tealeaf X Fem!reader

Spoilers for episode 26

Guess who decided to make herself sad today 

Staring at the colorful fabric in your hand; tears well in your eyes as a sob builds up in your chest. It is grief in it most basic form. You had been so busy the past few month that you had not been able to process his death. Today however it hit you head on as you decorated the empty room that you had been given. Holding the colorful coat close to your chest you sob; you had found a beautiful tapestry dedicated to the Moonweaver in the market and on impulsive purchased it, because it reminded you of him. Now you sit on the bed clutching a well-worn coat to your chest breath hitching as a broken sob comes forth. You missed him, you missed his warm, you missed the life he brought into any room that he entered. It hurt, like someone had stuck a knife in your chest and twisted the blade. It felt like he was taken from you far too soon. Memories flood your memories of time spent with him

The first time you met him he was staggering out of the woods covered in grave dirt muttering empty over and over. You and Gustav quickly realized that he had no recollection of who he was or what happened to him. You watched him grow from a hollow shell to a vibrant colorful soul. Your relationship started with a simple flower. Before he had even started talking you found yourself fond of the purple tiefling. One night before a show you felt a tug on the sleeve of your robe as you were getting ready. There stood a timid looking tiefling holding a beautiful rose out to you. It was the soft kiss you placed on his forehead that lead to a lasting relationship. “Love you.” Was one of the first things that he said to you when he found his voice. It still remained one of his favorite things to tell you whenever he saw the opportunity. Along the way you added Yasha to your loveable group of misfits; Mollymauk adopting the tall women, taking her under his colorful wing. You helped her adjust to life with the circus and she became one of your closest friends.

Then you met the Mighty Nein, a rag tag group of misfits you found in a small tavern in Trostenwald. You never could have imagined the adventures that you would get into with that group. Mollymauk getting arrested that night had been an unfortunate consequence. You barley managed to not be drug away in chains that night. You never expected a member of your circus would turn out to be a fiend, or that you would have to comfort the small dwarven girl that had befriended him when you had to kill him. After that the circus had to disband and you found a family with the group of misfits you found in the bar.

The name ‘The Mighty Nein’ came along the way when you finally had to establish yourselves as a group. You truly became a family of misfits after that and wacky adventures ensured as you made your way through the city of Zadash. Molly making everything brighter and more lighthearted along the way. During your time in the city the two of you snuck out on several dates and in a moment of impulse decided to get married secretly with only Yasha as a witness. Life seemed to be so bright and colorful with Molly in it. Time seemed to move impossibly fast, but he was there for you during every moment with a warm arm wrapped around your waist. There were times when you looked forward to your future together with him. You kept having reoccurring dreams of a small purple infant sleeping soundly in tattooed arms, that brought a warm fuzzy feeling to your chest.

Soft loving kisses and whispers of a family and the future were shared often between each other on the road in the moments before going to sleep surrounded by your friends. You never realized how much you needed to cherish those moments or how few it would feel like you have. Traveling through the swamp and back making new friends along the way. Having fun in Hupperdook and waking up realizing someone had stolen Molly’s purse. Moments traveling with this small makeshift family would turn into memories that you would cling to so that you could remember him.

Everything changed after leaving Hupperdook. Your last night on the road with Molly has burned itself in memories. It had been a normal day. You had picked up supplies and traveled further down the road. You had set up camp in a relatively open area as you were traveling through grasslands. You had volunteered to take first watch with Jester.

“Love you” Molly kissed you before heading off to the tent that you were going to share.

“Love you too.” You smiled watching the colorful tiefling walk away from you.

Those were the last words you spoke to him. You never saw them coming when the Iron shepherds kidnapped Yasha, Fjord, Jester, and you. You fell unconscious with a quick strike to the back of your head. Being the champion to the Raven Queen you were lucky when your goddess shielded your mind from the torment that you and your friends were going through. It was only after your friends rescued you were you given the news. It did not sink in that Molly was dead until you reached where they had buried him. Standing there looking at the mound of dirt it felt like you could not breathe, staring at the coat blowing in the wind your heart broke and you screamed falling to your knees in front of the grave. You put up a fight when they wanted to leave the coat behind. Caleb was the one who grabbed it off the stick they had used as a marker and handed it to you. You clutched the coat to your chest the whole way to Zadash feeling lost and broken. You did not know what to do when Yasha left as well; you just felt numb. For two weeks you felt nothing but numbness, your friends trying to help you out of your grief. Caduceus your new friend trying hard to help you deal with your grief to no avail.

Traveling was what distracted you from your grief. Leaving Zadash you found life to be moving too quickly for you to have to deal with your grief rather pushing it to the back of your mind. It wasn’t until you were putting together your room and you went to ask Molly a question, realizing that you would never get an answer. Once the tears started it seemed impossible to get them to stop.  You can’t hear the soft knock or the door opening.

“Y/n” Yasha’s soft voice breaks through your cries. Her large form slowly moves into the room as to not startle you. With your friend moving into the room you make your way into her arms crying into her shoulder still clutching the coat. Strong arms wrap around your form holing you close whispering softly in celestial to you

“We didn’t get to say good-bye.” You sob into her shoulder “We didn’t get to say goodbye.”

You feel her rest her head against yours and a few tears fall onto your hair

“I know.” She whispers.

“How do you deal with this pain. How do you deal with the gaping hole.” You voice breaks as you look at her eyes red, tears running down your cheeks.

“You don’t. The pain never goes away, it just gets easier to deal with.”  A calloused hand wipes away your tears. She wraps her arms tightly around you and you burry your face into her shoulder tears soaking through her shirt as your cry.

Yasha stays with you the rest of the day letting you cry and scream and deal with the grief of loosing Molly. The rest of the Nein checked in on you every now and then, making sure everything is going to be alright. Caduceus came in at one point to help Yasha comfort you and to help you work out your grief. Eventually you cry yourself to sleep, Yasha staying in your room the remainder of the night keeping a silent guard over you as you clutch the coat close to you in your sleep.  

[princessamericachavez]

Let’s talk about Fjord

This has been a long time coming, especially given how most of the fandom tends to overlook the depth of Fjord’s past and current trauma or downright vilify him for it... but I’m not here to talk salt, I’m here to talk about all the sweet little tidbits about Fjord we learned tonight in Talks.

So let’s review:

a. Fjord feels more comfortable in the City of Beasts than in the Empire/Menagerie Coast: 

Now, hey, let’s take a break and consider this, yeah? Because Fjord has spent all of his life fighting and denying the “monster” side of him, to the point of self-harm. He’s crafted himself to look and act as an exemplary human (when he doesn’t even know if the non-orc part of his blood is human at all). Only in the past few months with the Mighty Nein has he started to accept himself. Letting his tusks grow —under Jester’s gentle watch— has been a huge step for him and his self-image. 

And yet. When they were traveling across this other lands, we never really saw Fjord complain. He never brought up that he felt watched, that he felt judged, that he felt out of place. That’s just how good his mask is (and part of his “no one cares” mentality that we will touch in a moment). 

He might not even fit in here entirely either —he’s destined to be forever a half-blood no matter where he goes— but the fact that he feels more comfortable here than he ever did before talks about just how deep-rooted his trauma is. As Travis put it “it’s having an interesting effect on him” and hopefully it will be one of further self-acceptance. We already saw him comment to himself that the stubby tusks had helped him intimidate Umanon. The very same thing that ostracized him as a child, is a powerful asset here.

b. Fjord is desperate to connect with his bloodline. 

Now, we’d seen hints of this longing before. On a meta-level, there was Travis complaining that Fjord didn’t get to meet the lonely half-orc on their way North, but we’ve also had several IC hints. Consider how Fjord found an orcish tusk in Lorenzo’s bag of teeth and kept it. Think about the value he puts into family. Think about him saying, of course, Jester would want to meet her dad. Think about the weight and importance he puts in the family. Think about how set he is in reuniting families —be it Jester with her mom or Nott with her son or even Beau with her estranged parents. Think about him choosing to name himself Captain Tusktooth of all things and despite his lack of them.

The way Travis put it tonight, though, wasn’t just curiosity, it was desperation. It was the need to sit down and ask “are you a monster, for real? Am I really a monster, too?” It’s just the need to be acknowledged. It’s the need to understand what it is in his blood that has made him a target all of his life. It’s getting some damn answers for once. It’s being a part of something. 

And how heartbreaking is it that his first proper encounter with his own species had to be this three drunken assholes that tried to hurt his friends and disregarded him as a weakling? And, yet, how satisfying is it that he got himself and his friends out of that problem, not by force but by outwitting them? By taking this side of him that he’s carefully crafted through his painful youth and using it to get the upper hand?

c. Fjord’s “tough love” and understanding of the world. 

Listen, as much as the two previous things were sad, I think nothing broke my heart as hearing Travis talk about Fjord’s perspective of the world. It makes sense, though. Of course, it does. He grew a nobody in an orphanage where he suffered at hands of other children and was probably never aided or defended by a single caring soul. What does it do to a child, to grow knowing no one is going to come to your rescue? That no one cares? That no one will?

And then Vandran, the one person that has apparently shown Fjord the most kindness in his life, reinforcing this idea, telling him “yes, no one cares, no one is going to care about your problems, so you just deal with them and keep pushing forward”. Of course, Fjord grabbed that ideology —that already aligned with his perspective of the world— and held on to it, turned it into a shield with which he could face an uncaring world. As “tough love” as it is, Vandran gave him a tool to turn his pain and anger into a way to keep moving. Was it the most emotionally healthy advice? Probably not, but it kept Fjord alive.

We’ve seen the side effects of this attitude come and bite Fjord in the ass, though. From not sharing his Uk’otoa dreams at first because they are his problem to deal with, to taking in the responsibility to deal with Avantika and the whole pirate deal... it’s made his allies distrust him, thinking he withholds information out of shadiness rather than a sense of sole responsibility for his issues. Like, think of being sure that the M9 would not come and rescue him from the slavers. After being rescued, he tells Beau and Caleb that he did not expect them to come. Why would he. No one ever has. No one has ever cared. He tells them he expects better of himself because that’s the only person he’s ever really been able to rely on. 

Until now. Until the Mighty Nein. After being rescued, he tells them that he hasn’t had many kindnesses directed at him in his life, and as much as it sounds like a “cool guy” line, really, really, really think how real that is, how much pain there was in Fjord’s shaky breathless laugh as he said it. I don’t care what anyone says or thinks, Travis is fucking BRILLIANT roleplayer that has been planting the seeds and hints of Fjord’s trauma and pain, playing the subtle long game, really thinking deeply about how his past affects him and it’s all slowly boiling to the surface and it’s perfect.

Going back to how the M9 have changed Fjord’s perspective, though, think about how much they care. They do care, and they show it, and they help, and show up, and go out of their way to help and protect Fjord in a way no one ever has before. 

Jester bribing someone to get Fjord a recommendation later just because he said he wanted to get into a super fancy magic academy. Beau, Caleb, Nott and Molly risking (and giving) their lives to rescue him and the others from the slavers. They spent months out in the open see and surrounded by pirates and death threats just to help him get answers about his powers and his mentor. Jester yelling “don’t worry Fjord, you’re going to be okay!” or “I’ll protect you, Fjord!” and assuring him “I’ll heal you if you start to hurt”, keeping his secrets about his past, constantly asking about how he feels and what he wants and what he needs. My dudes (forgive me as I get momentarily shippy) but when Travis says Fjord is in awe of Jester’s light and happiness, how he’s never met anyone like her, how her light is contagious... the more we learn about the shadows in Fjord’s past, the more apparent it becomes how significant her light is to him (platonically or otherwise)

And speaking of light, fourth and final matter

d. Fjord is looking for an out. 

And not just any out. Fjord is looking for a higher power to help him stop Uk’otoa or, at the very least, break his connection to the serpent. 

And here is where I throw a huge HAH to anyone who claimed Fjord to be evil, shady, power-hungry or willing to betray everyone or some shit. 

My guys, Fjord is willing to give up the very power that —for the first time in his life— has allowed him to defend himself and those he loves, just to do the right thing. Fjord is actively thinking of ways to fix his situation. Fjord is step by step turning his back on the dark promise of rewards and reaching for the light like a drowning man.

How will that look, you ask? Well, Travis did bring up a significant word tonight: Paladin. 

From a purely ttrpg point of view, all Fjord needs to multiclass to Paladin is a couple extra strength points that he could easily get the next time he can up his stats. 

From a narrative point of view, though, how wonderful would it be? This boy, this man, who grew up being shunned, hated, attacked, disregarded as a monstrosity... This kid who everyone called an evil shady monster, who people distrust on sight, who didn’t think himself important enough to be helped by anyone... 

I would KILL for paladin Fjord. Like, shutting up every single person (in and out of game) that called him evil or a monster by becoming a god's champion, a paragon of good, literal knight in shining armor, tusks and all. TUSKS AND ALL. 

Jester seeing Fjord in full armor, shining like the sun with a light of his own, blessed by a deity of his own, tall and proud... and her just being filled with pride, telling him “see, Fjord? I told you, you’re just like a knight in shining armor!”

I’m curious as to which god Fjord would choose to follow, though. 

The Wildmother might seem like a far fit given how different Caduceus’s approach to, well, everything is to Fjord, but reading up on her she’s “the goddess of wilderness and the sea. She watches over nature, good harvest, grants protection from washing away in storms, guides the passage of ships, and protects smaller folk” which seems like SUPER fitting given Fjord’s backstory. 

The Moonweaver would be an interesting nod to Molly’s faith, but also a good fit to Fjord’s tendencies towards hiding his true self behind a perfect mask since she “is a chaotic good deity of moonlight and the autumn season, as well as the patron of illusions and misdirection [...]  she is largely considered to be the deity of love and protector of the trysts of lovers. Those who work in secrecy and trickery often ask for her blessing.” (also Fjord needs all the luck in love he can get)

The Changebringer is an interesting option too, I think, since she “is the goddess of freedom, trade, travel, and adventure. She encourages her followers to venture into the unknown” and we all know how curious and impulsive Fjord can be, it’d be fun for him to have a deity that encourages his thirst for adventure now that he’s enjoying his new life and getting to know and do more than he ever dreamed.

The Stormlord is a weird mix since he’s the god of war and fighting but also worshipped by sailors of the Menagerie Coast, which Fjord could feel closer too. 

(also either the Stormlord or the Wildmother might have some kind of direct interest in Uk’otoa not rising again, so they seem likely to help)

I —for one— would love to see Fjord as a paladin of the Traveler, just because the idea is hilarious and I have no idea how it would work.

Either way, though, Fjord has a super interesting road ahead. His past and present are coming to the surface and this arc his subtly giving us a lot of what will shape his future.

Tl;dr: Fjord is a good boy who has suffered a lot and I will fight the next person that calls him evil. 

[moiraineswife]

Passing Through Fire - A Widomauk Fic

A new age of man has come and gone in the time it’s taken me to write this damned thing but it is HERE. a thousand blessings upon my mini critter pit for supporting this. you know who y’all are <3 The widomauk discord is also probably at least partially to blame, too, and I know y’all know who you are. So. Without further ado: 

Title: Passing Through Fire

Summary: 'Mollymauk tasted like fire, and for the first time in too long, Caleb Widogast was not afraid.' Molly and Caleb's first time sleeping together, Caleb has some misgivings, and Molly helps him to work through them. NSFW. Explicit Content. 

Teaser: It was a heady thing, to be so free of fear. He had forgotten what that felt like. Even though, once, a hundred lifetimes ago, the boy he had been had known that feeling so thoroughly, it had destroyed him, and all those he held dear. He had never thought to taste this again, had never wanted to taste this again, this blissful calm, this ignorant peace, this infinite trust in himself, and in another. Then he had met Mollymauk. 

Link: AO3

Mollymauk tasted like fire, and for the first time in too long, Caleb Widogast was not afraid.

There was always a heat to the tiefling. His skin burned as though his veins ran with flames, instead of blood. It had always seemed counterintuitive to Caleb that he radiated such heat, such warmth, such life, but the power that he channelled from his blood was ice.  

Caleb’s back hit a wall, but he barely noticed. Molly’s forked tongue was pressing gently against his lips, and as he parted them and opened for him, he was aware of nothing but the consuming heat of being with his partner.

He was at the centre of an inferno, an inferno that he had not created, and it caused everything but the person he danced within these flames with to fade, like a swirl of ash lost amidst a hurricane’s winds.

Caleb melted gladly into Molly’s heat, felt his tongue press into his mouth and moaned softly into it. He felt Molly’s hand sink into his thick hair, felt the tips of his claws scrape his skull, and still he was not afraid.

It was a heady thing, to be so free of fear. He had forgotten what that felt like. Even though, once, a hundred lifetimes ago, the boy he had been had known that feeling so thoroughly, it had destroyed him, and all those he held dear. He had never thought to taste this again, had never wanted to taste this again, this blissful calm, this ignorant peace, this infinite trust in himself, and in another.

Then he had met Mollymauk.

Like so much else, Molly had changed this about him. He had taken away his fear. He had taken away the all-consuming fear that had laced his every breath since he had come back to himself and remembered what he’d done, and why.

He no longer feared the flames, or the heat. Molly was a fire himself, bound into the form of a tiefling by his beloved Moonweaver. He burned whenever Caleb touched him. And Caleb burned with him. It felt good. It felt better than good. It felt divine.

“Caleb,” Molly whispered against his lips, his voice almost hoarse.

His clawed fingers were deft, and always surprisingly gentle to Caleb, as all touches were, as they moved from his back to the front of his coat and picked apart the toggles. He didn’t push the coat from his shoulders, but he let it hang, and pressed his palms flat against Caleb’s chest with a soft moan.

Caleb looked into his eyes, burning red, without iris or pupil, they were easier to have look into him than others. They were not intent and piercing onto a spot, feeling as though they were stripping him bare, laying his soul before them, and judging every inch of his being.

He did not feel vulnerable when Molly looked at him. He felt quite the reverse. He felt powerful. Those red eyes were burning with hot, molten awe, reverence thrumming through him with every heaving pulse of his chest as he fought for breath.

He had done this to him. He had done it. Mollymauk was always so composed, so nonchalant, so comfortably confident in every situation. And he could make him melt. He could make him weak. He could make him get down on his knees and beg if he wished it. The thought made him shudder faintly. Having that much control over another person was terrifying, and it almost made him break all over again. Someone trusting him that much, that they would willingly put their heart in his hands, then close his fingers over it, was too much.

He lowered his head, and, as he always did, Molly seemed to know just what to do. He slid a clawed finger beneath Caleb’s chin and raised it, leaned in, and kissed him once more. And again, Caleb let himself get lost in the pulsing heat of his partner.

Heat pulsed in Caleb’s core and he realised that he wanted this. He wanted Mollymauk, more than he had wanted anything this real, this good in a long time. That scared him, too. And Molly knew that. Molly knew that this act of intimacy, this act of trust, this thing terrified him. So it would have to be his choice. He would have to initiate, he would have to want, and own that desire, that power he had over Molly, that power to choose whether or not they took this step.

With a deep breath, he let the kiss fade, gentle and inevitable as the sea rushing against a beach, then pulling once more back into the safety of its heart. Then he reached out and tangled his fingers with Molly’s and dew him slowly, deliberately, back to the bed.

Molly’s eyes widened slightly, but he allowed himself to be led through his surprise without resistance.

Caleb sat down, and drew Molly with him, who looked breathless as he reached out and cupped Caleb’s cheek in his hand, claws scraping gently against the newly forming stubble on his jaw.

“You’re sure?” Molly whispered, his voice hoarse and ragged, as though he had not used it for days.

Caleb nodded, “I am sure. I want this. I want you, but...” he trailed off, flushing, lowering his eyes.

“But?” Molly prompted gently.

“I am afraid,” Caleb admitted.

The naked truth felt as vulnerable as it would have baring his body.

Molly softened the hand against his cheek, brushed it with his knuckles and said softly, “We can go slow, love. I promise I don’t bite.” Caleb looked up to see Molly’s grin, and the sparkle in his eyes before he cocked his head to one side and added coyly, “Unless you ask me for it.”

“Molly,” Caleb said, each word slow and deliberate, as though he weighed it on his tongue before letting it spill out. He covered the tieflings hand with his own, which trembled slightly, though neither of them called attention to that. “It is not you that I am afraid of.”

“Caleb,” Molly whispered softly, reaching out and cupping his cheek again, such a tender expression on his face that it made Caleb want to die right there in that moment.

“Don’t,” Caleb said, voice cracking slightly, “Please, please don’t do that, Mollymauk.” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and reached out and brushed his fingers over the exposed triangle of lavender skin at his chest.

“Just,” he breathed, leaning in and dragging his lips down to Molly’s neck.

Molly keened softly and tilted back his head, giving him better access on instinct it seemed. His hand slid around to Caleb’s back and held him firmly, the points of his claws digging into his back. Caleb carded his fingers through Molly’s hair and sucked gently over the red eye on the peacock tattoo, which made Molly moan.

“Let me take care of you,” Caleb breathed in Molly’s ear, dragging his lips to his mouth and kissing him. “Please,” he breathed, tugging gently on Molly’s earlobe with his teeth, “Let me take care of you, Mollymauk.”

“I mean,” Molly said, grinning but breathless, a darker flush suffusing his skin, “If you insist.”

Caleb all but pounced on him. Pushing him back down onto the bed he eased off the brightly patterned coat the tiefling always wore. It slipped, headed for the ground, but he caught it, and folded it gently on top of the desk instead.

Molly opened his mouth, looking surprised but gratified, but found it occupied with kissing Caleb a moment later. As he pressed his tongue into Molly’s mouth, he began tugging at the strings of his shirt, loosening it to the point it was easy to peel from him.

Caleb studied him, drinking in every flawless inch of him, every deep scar that criss-crossed his body, every point of colour from his tattoos.

Cocking his head to one side, he gently stroked one of Molly’s already hardening nipples and said, “You really weren’t lying about those nipple rings.”

Molly favoured him with a lazy grin, “I told you,” he replied easily, “They catch on shit.”

“Like teeth?” Caleb suggested with a small smile.

“Tee-Oh,” Molly began, before breaking off into a faint moan as Caleb sucked a nipple between his teeth, biting down gently to illustrate his point.

Molly moaned softly and reached up, pressing his fingers into Caleb’s hair, his claws scraping against his scalp. Caleb let Molly guide him, nudging him across his chest to suck on his other nipple, which caused him to moan softly, his back arching, his tail curling around Caleb’s wrist.

“Caleb,” Molly whispered, a distinct purr in his voice. “Caleb.”

“Yes, Mollymauk?” he said quietly, projecting a composure he didn’t feel into his voice, stroking the tips of his fingers up and down Molly’s chest.

“Please,” he rasped. He moaned softly as Caleb stroked his fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers. “Please,” he repeated.

Caleb smiled and leaned down, brushing his lips against Molly’s as he said, “Please what, Mollymauk? Be specific.”

“Please make me come in any way you see fit, you filthy Zemnian tease,” Molly snapped, his head tilting back, his hands fisting the bed sheets, claws piercing the thin fabric. “And do it quickly.”

A soft laugh rasped from Caleb at that, and he leaned down and brushed his lips against Molly’s, “You are very demanding, Molly.”

“I’m so easy-going, normally,” Molly explained in a hoarse pant, “That when you have me wet and willing in bed, my patience wears thin quite quickly.”

Caleb cocked his head to the side slightly, gazing down at Molly and repeated softly, and slowly, drawing the words out as though he liked the taste of them, “Wet and willing?”

Molly groaned, wrapping his fingers around Caleb’s wrist, and drew his hand down between his legs until he could fee precisely how wet and willing the tiefling was for him. His eyes slipped shut for a moment. Gods have mercy, it had been a while, but he wanted this.

It had been so long since had wanted, since he had allowed himself that luxury, and now, here, with Molly, he felt it, felt it in his bones, in what was left of his shredded soul and ravaged heart.

He wanted Mollymauk Tealeaf. He wanted to feel what he did to him. He wanted to fuck him raw. He wanted to make him come. He wanted to make him scream.

“Then perhaps,” Caleb mused quietly, “I should do something about that.”

“Yes,” Molly panted, grinning wickedly at him, “Perhaps you should, Caleb. Especially since you caused it in the first pl-“ Molly’s smart lip was cut-off as Caleb slid his fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers, brushing their tips lightly over his clit, which silenced him almost instantly. Almost like magic.

He smirked, just a little, in spite of himself.

“You can be quiet,” Caleb teased lightly, settling into himself just a little, encouraged by Molly’s reaction, and the old instincts that were guiding the gentle, teasing curve and press of his fingers. “I would never have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes in this moment.”

Molly opened his mouth for another no doubt snappy, sarcastic retort, but Caleb drew gentle circles over his clit and he collapsed down onto the bed, mewling pathetically instead, claws tearing the holes he had already made in the sheets a little wider.

“Do you like this?” Caleb asked, quietly, stroking his fingers gently over his clit in slow, circular motions.

Molly moaned loudly in answer, and Caleb took that for a yes.

“And this?” Caleb asked softly, sliding his fingers a little lower, teasing at his entrance. Molly arched against his hand, grinding his hips against it, trying to push Caleb’s fingers to where they were wanted.

“Yes,” Molly growled, “Yes.”  He wrapped his fingers around Caleb’s wrist, and pulled him closer, kissing him, “But do it properly,” he rasped, “Please.”

He pulled at the laces of his own trousers, loosening them, arching from the bed and trying to push them down. Caleb smiled and pulled them gently down, baring Molly entirely to him.  

“Would you like me to use my mouth?” Caleb asked quietly, tilting his head to one side.

Molly let out a long, drawn out moan.  

“I’m sorry?” Caleb said, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“Caleb, you fucking tease,” Molly gasped hopelessly. “Caleb, if you don’t put your mouth on me this instant, I’m going to-“

He broke off again in a low groan as Caleb did as he’d been asked.

“Good,” Molly whispered hoarsely, “That’s good. But I, I need-“ he broke off, panting, eyes closed.

“What do you need, Mollymauk?” Caleb asked, drawing away, the heat of his breath alone still enough to make the tiefling quake. “Tell me,” he murmured, “And I will give it to you.”

“More,” Molly choked. One of his hands reached down blindly and fisted itself in Caleb’s hair. “Fingers,” he rasped, “Something inside me. Caleb. Please.”

Caleb obliged, and there was something near holy in the way Molly’s back arched in response, how his tail thrashed from side to side, how his head tilted back, exposing the slender column of his throat as he moaned.

“Mouth, put your mouth on me,” Molly managed to get out. His fingers flexed in Caleb’s hair as he did as he was asked, and adjusted his position slightly. “Good,” Molly groaned, “Good, that’s it, that’s-“ He broke off with a strangled moan of pleasure.

Heat was pooling in Caleb’s core as he had Mollymauk Tealeaf entirely at his mercy, and writhing in pleasure for him. But he pushed it away, trying to ignore it. Fire was not a temptation he would give in to again. Not even when it felt this good.

Molly’s back arched again as he pushed his hips harder against Caleb’s mouth. “Caleb,” he whined, desperately. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb-“

Gods, his name sounded like a prayer on Molly’s tongue. He had never thought to hear the tiefling truly pray. Fjord said he conducted rituals to the Moonweaver over his swords, but Caleb had never fully understood the depth of devotion contained within him. But he knew it now. As Molly gasped his name again and again, he knew it.

“Caleb I’m close,” Molly panted, and Caleb was amused to see that, as he lost more and more of his control, his tongue, which he had managed to tame for a few heartbeats, became looser, and looser, and words spilled out like rain from the heavens during a thunderstorm. “Caleb please, don’t stop.”

He couldn’t even if he’d wanted to. The sounds pouring from Molly’s throat were like music, and his body was helpless but to obey its rhythm.

Molly let out a long, keening cry, his back arching from the bed, his hands jerking, his claws tearing strips from the delicate sheets as he came around Caleb’s fingers.

He collapsed panting down onto the bed, and Caleb did not think he’d ever seen anything quite so beautiful.

He gave him a moment to compose himself, then, asked, “Again?” mildly, wiping his mouth.

Molly groaned, but threw him a lazy grin at the same time, “If you can, I certainly won’t say no to you, darling,” he replied with a cocky ease.

Caleb growled softly and pulled Molly’s hips back down against his mouth with a strength that bordered on possessive.

It didn’t take him long to bring Molly to the edge again, to have him begging, writhing, pleading for release. As Molly chanted his name, over and over again, Caleb gave him what he wanted. And didn’t stop.

Not until Molly had come for a third time, until, hoarse and so breathless he could only wheeze, he begged him to stop.

Caleb withdrew at once, hunger tearing through his insides like a wildfire blazing through a forest, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

Watching Molly made it simultaneously easier, and harder. The smooth curves of his lavender body, peppered with the scars of his cruel kind of magic. The way his body stilled, but trembled at a gentle touch from Caleb. The heat that poured from him like an infectious scent, drawing him in, making him harder, making him desperate-

“Caleb.”

Molly’s voice, hoarse but thick with pleasure, snapped him back to reality.

“Yes?” he said, a little dazedly.

Molly pushed himself up with one hand, using the other to shove his sweaty hair back from his face, and slid towards Caleb, pulling him in, kissing him.

“You are,” Molly breathed, capturing his mouth again in another bruising kiss, “Without a doubt,” he kissed him again, deep and tantalising, giving him a taste of that wicked silver tongue, “The most wonderful man,” Caleb felt himself blushing, but had no chance to respond for Molly’s mouth was covering his once more, “I have ever met.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but Molly placed a long, slender finger to his lips, halting him, and added in a soft purr, “And I want you to tell me what you want.”

“I do not expect any kind of reciprocation-“ Caleb said immediately.

“Caleb, Caleb, Caleb,” Molly said with a low laugh, “I’m disappointed, you’re usually so precise, so literal.”

He leaned in and kissed his neck, and he should tell him to stop, good Gods, he should beg him to stop, because it feels so good, and if he doesn’t, he’s not sure what he’s going to do. But he didn’t. He lets Molly nip lightly at his neck, tipped his head back to give him better access, had to bite his lip to stop himself whining in protest when Molly pulled away.

“I didn’t ask what you expected, Caleb,” Molly said, placing that burning mouth against his skin once more and making him want to burn for him. “I asked you what you wanted.”

He can’t say it. He can’t. He can’t admit it. He can’t let himself give in to it. He has to be stronger than that.

“What do you want?” Molly purred gently, nibbling on Caleb’s ear.

And fuck him, but he had never been a strong man.

“I want you,” Caleb panted hoarsely, his forehead pressed against Molly’s, his eyes closed, self-disgust in every word. And then his voice broke, and so did the iron in it, and he trembled as he gripped his thighs so tightly his blunt nails were leaving deep marks in the soft pale skin, “But I cannot trust myself with you.”

******************************************************************************

Molly watched him for a long moment, the hunched back, the bowed head, the way he shook, the way his face twisted with the disgust at his own desire, his own need, the way he had given into it, and he felt his heart break.

“Caleb,” Molly breathed softly, keeping his voice as steady as he could. He reached out tentatively, grazed the wizard’s face with the tips of his claws. He did not pull away. He seemed incapable of deliberately putting distance between them. He leaned in just a little, and Molly encouraged it, flattening his hand against his cheek, cradling his face, lifting it gently up.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, very quietly.  

“Yes,” Caleb mumbled back at once, with such speed and certainty that Molly was taken aback for a moment, “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me,” Molly murmured back. He leaned in slowly, pressed his lips against Caleb’s jawline, dragged them back until they were against his ear, so close his breath would be hot on the shell of it, made sure that Caleb would feel his next words, “Trust me when I say that I want this. I want you.”

“Molly-“ Caleb began, voice trembling.

“I’ve wanted you for weeks, Caleb,” Molly continued, his voice a low purr, thrumming with lust, “I’ve wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to touch me. I’ve wanted you to make me scream for you with your fingers, and your tongue, and your magic.” Caleb trembled as Molly leaned down, draping himself over the wizard and gasped, “But more than anything else, Caleb, I’ve wanted you inside me.”

Caleb cursed softly in Zemnian and Molly smiled faintly.

“Do you want that, too?” he asked.

“Yes,” Caleb snapped, “Yes, of course I do, I want it so badly I feel I may claw myself free of my own skin to get at you right now. That is the problem! Why can’t you understand that?”

Molly sat back for a long moment, considering Caleb, his head cocked to one side. Then he leaned in, tilted his chin up, and hovered, waiting, letting Caleb choose. He kissed him, slowly, but in a way that betrayed his underlying hunger. Molly closed his eyes, sinking into it, letting Caleb guide them.

When he opened them again he said quietly, “You can trust me?”

“You know that I can,” Caleb replied, “I would not be here with you if I could not.”

Molly pressed forwards, slowly, but deliberately, straddling Caleb’s lap, grinding against him, hissing softly as he realised how hard he was for him.

“Can you trust me with this?” Molly asked, quietly, looking up and meeting Caleb’s eyes in the semi-darkness of the room.

Caleb looked at him for a long time in silence, then, very slowly, he nodded.

Molly felt a rush of gratitude and emotion at the trust he was being given, and he leaned in, sliding a hand behind Caleb’s head, gently stroking his neck as he kissed him, deeply, and intensely, but with less of the lust, trying to push his feelings into it.

Caleb seemed to understand, and responded in kind, sinking into the kiss, allowing Molly to pull him closer.

They broke apart panting, and Molly smiled playfully, tugging at the opening of Caleb’s coat, “I’m afraid this might have to go if we’re to proceed, love,” he said.

Caleb hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded, allowing Molly to slip it free. He set it down very carefully, and made sure it was still within easy reach of the bed, and of the wizard. He knew perfectly well that Caleb’s attachment to it was partially sentimental, but mostly practical. All of his spell components were located in the different pockets, without it, he could not make most of his magic work. Molly understood what he was giving up.

He kissed him gently, dragged his lips down to his neck and sucked until Caleb tilted his head back, let his eyes flutter closed. His hands rested on his thighs, his fingers flexing unconsciously as he swallowed at the pleasure, though he remained silent, which Molly could have guessed.

“Shirt next,” he breathed, fingers curling beneath the hem, stroking gently at Caleb’s skin, feeling him arch into him, nodding urgently.

Molly pulled it up over his head, then sat back to admire him. Caleb, however, had other ideas. He flushed and tried to cover himself instinctively with his arms. Molly reached out and caught his wrists, “Please,” he said quietly, “Don’t.”

Still blushing, Caleb reluctantly let his arms drop. He was not toned, but soft in certain places, and too sharp in others. His skin was pale, and splattered with freckles, like the night sky was with stars.

Molly smiled softly, but Caleb said abruptly, “If you are going to try and tell me that I look perfect, please don’t waste your breath.”

Molly snorted. “No-one looks perfect, Caleb,” he said, dismissively. “If I were going to compliment you, I would only say something that was true.” He leaned in and kissed him gently, “Like the fact that I think you’re beautiful.” Caleb flushed so darkly, Molly almost feared for his health. But then he smiled and nuzzled at his neck and whispered, “Beautiful, and not nearly naked enough for my liking.”

“Then perhaps,” Caleb murmured, lifting his hips, “You should do something about that.”

Molly smirked and did just that, gently sliding Caleb’s trousers down and pulling them free, then sitting back to admire him.

After several long moments of this, heat pulsing in his core, the tip of his tongue trailing across his bottom lip, Caleb interrupted him with a dry cough, and Molly looked up at his face, eyebrows raised slightly.

“Are you getting impatient, love?” he teased, arching an eyebrow.

Caleb groaned and had the audacity to roll his eyes at him, so Molly licked a long, slow stripe along his length in retaliation, which caused his eyes to flutter closed instead as his whole body shuddered with pleasure.

He cursed softly in Zemnian and whispered, almost more to himself than to Molly, “It has been too long, too long since I have felt that.”

Something tightened in Molly’s chest and he crawled back up the bed, kissing Caleb’s lips tenderly. He no longer wanted to tease, no longer wanted to play with the man before him. He wanted to worship him.

He wanted to make up for the touches Caleb had not had in too long, wanted to devote himself to rekindling that fire, that intimacy inside him that he needed, that he longed for, that he deserved. He wanted them pressed skin to skin, so close that it was impossible to say who began and ended where. He wanted Caleb to cling to him, to pull him closer, to close his eyes and press Molly against him until he forgot that he had ever been alone.

He kissed his way slowly down Caleb’s body, making sure to suck and bite at both nipples until Caleb was panting and breathless. He moved slowly down his body, pressing his lips to every freckle he found on the way, and there were quite a few. Down, and down, and down. Caleb’s breathing was shallow and laboured now, his head tipped back, his body quivering, anticipating what was about to come.

Molly nuzzled gently at the thin strip of fine red hair that dusted Caleb’s navel, then paused and looked up at him.

“You trust me?” he asked, and this time he flashed his fangs at Caleb, making him aware this was a very specific question, with a very specific end result.

Caleb swallowed tightly at the sight of him, but nodded with an urgency Molly would never have expected before he’d gotten the wizard into bed, and all hot and bothered. He had discovered over the years that he had that effect on people, the ability to strip them back, discover what hidden surprises lurked beneath their surface personalities.

Molly took Caleb gently into his mouth and began to work steadily up and down, teasing him with his tongue, making sure he was quite ready. In truth, he hadn’t needed much preparation. Getting Molly off multiple times had apparently been quite good for him, but he hadn’t been able to resist having a taste of him.

He could feel heat pooling in his core, could feel the slickness between his thighs, and the ache to have Caleb inside him. His tail was thrashing behind him, and he had given up trying to make it behave. He had more important things to concentrate on. Like the way Caleb’s hands had drifted into his hair, carefully avoiding his horns.

He paused for a moment and he felt Caleb give a small huff of indignation at the loss of contact. But Molly grinned and tapped one of his horns saying, “You can touch them, you know. If you want to.” Caleb blinked down at him through a haze of pleasure, as though he was very far away, “I’ve been told they’re quite good for steering,” he added, helpfully.

Caleb choked.

Molly smirked and sunk back down onto Caleb, feeling the tension in his body release as he did so.

“Molly,” Caleb mumbled softly, one hand on one of Molly’s horns, the other in his own hair. His body was arching, his hips starting to buck instinctively into Molly’s mouth. “Molly, Molly, Molly,” he sang, back arching even more with every pump of Molly’s lips around him.

“Stop,” Caleb panted a moment later, the words shuddering out of him, “Stop, a moment, please.”

Molly did as he was told at once, sitting up and blinking at Caleb with concern. “Are you alright?” he asked quickly.

“Yes, I am fine, but, I, ah-“ He broke off, flustered. “That was good, Mollymauk, very good,” Molly couldn’t help preening just a little at those words, “But I-“ He blushed darkly and looked away. Even now, when Molly had had his mouth wrapped around his cock seconds later, he seemed embarrassed about what he wanted.

He stroked his hands gently up and down Caleb’s thighs and said softly, “What is it, Caleb?”

Caleb was silent for a long moment, before he finally looked up at him and said, quietly but firmly, “I want to be inside you, Mollymauk. The way you said you wanted me to be.” Molly felt something tighten in him as desire raked at his nerves, demanding that he push Caleb down into the mattress and fuck him until he begged for mercy. But Caleb’s voice distracted him, babbling beneath him, “Of course, if you would rather continue as we are that is no problem, no problem at all I- I would be honoured if you would- Any way you see fit, I am, I am not here to make demands of you or-“

“Caleb,” Molly said, in that soft, singsong way that always got his blood boiling, his head cocked slightly to one side, “I mean this with all the love in the world, I truly do, but please: shut the fuck up.”

Caleb opened his mouth to disobey that request almost at once, and Molly kissed him. He waited until he felt the tension bleed from Caleb’s body into the air around them, thickening it, making it hot, and tense, and hard to breathe. He let the wizard melt into him, let him rise a little from the bed, one hand sliding behind Molly’s head to allow him to deepen the kiss.

They were so lost in each other that it was the most natural thing in the world when Molly’s body began to move closer, as though magnetically drawn to Caleb’s, and he made no effort to fight it.

When they broke apart, Molly was straddling Caleb’s hips, staring down at him, gently brushing the hair from his face so that he could look into those beautiful blue eyes as he did this.

“Are you ready?” he asked, breathlessly.

Caleb stared up at him for a long moment, then reached out and gently linked their hands together before he nodded and rasped, his voice a little hoarse, but steady, and sure, “I am ready. I trust you, Mollymauk.”

Molly nodded and rose up on his knees, taking Caleb in one hand, then sinking down slowly onto him. He moaned at the feeling of finally, finally, having Caleb inside him. Caleb squeezed his hand as his breathing hitched, his back arching, his eyes clamping shut, his mouth open, but no sound came from him.

Molly settled down on top of Caleb, rolling his hips and making the wizard tremble beneath them. He looked down at Caleb, who nodded, and began rocking his hips, easing into a gentle rhythm, though his body screamed for more, faster, harder, now.

But he had his eyes fixed on Caleb, who had his eyes closed again, his lips moving soundlessly, likely forming some kind of Zemnian curse, and even if it would have killed him, he’d have taken this slow and easy for his sake.

That was until the hand that was not clutching his own gripped his hip. Caleb’s blunt nails were digging into his skin and he was panting, “Mollymauk,” he rasped, and Molly felt a tingle of pleasure trickle down his spine at the way Caleb said his name while he was inside him, “Do you think I am made of glass?” he demanded. Molly opened his mouth, startled, but Caleb groaned, lifting his hips slightly, and said, “I am not going to break, damn you.” He tugged on Molly’s hip and growled, “Fuck me, Molly.”

Molly didn’t need telling twice.

Both of them gasped as he increased his pace, rising up, then sinking back down onto Caleb, again, and again, and again.

“Good,” Molly panted, as Caleb arched into him, proving to have the same iron self-restraint in bed that he displayed outside it. “That’s good, that’s it, Caleb.” He arched his back as pleasure began to flare through him. His tail curled itself around Caleb’s thigh, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Good boy,” Molly whined, thrusting a little harder, “Good boy.”

Caleb let out a small sound at that, something closer to a whisper, and a delighted smile spread across Molly’s face.

“Do you like that?” he whispered, leaning down and nuzzling at Caleb’s neck, “Do you like it when I praise you? Do you like it when I tell you how fucking good you feel? Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yes,” Caleb rasped, lifting his hips a little more, “Gods, Mollymauk, yes. You know I love that tongue of yours.”

“I do,” Molly smirked, “And I love your tongue, too, darling, it has a lot of talents of its own.” Caleb’s breathing hitched at that and he trembled faintly at the praise. “You’re so good, Caleb,” Molly continued, dropping his voice to a low purr, and enjoying the effect this had, “So good for me, so-“ he broke off as Caleb shifted slightly beneath him, altering their angle, hitting him in just the right spot, and he moaned more loudly, his eyes clamping shut with pleasure, his claws flexing against Caleb’s chest, “That’s it,” he panted, “That’s it, that’s it, that’s perfect.”

Gods, he’d only meant this to be about Caleb, about his pleasure, about him reconnecting with someone else after too long, but the way the pleasure was coiling in his stomach, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on.

Molly whined helplessly, his rhythm faltering for a moment as he gasped out, “Caleb, I want-“ he bowed his head, breaking off and trembling as pleasure pulsed through him, “I want to come.”

“Again?” Caleb panted back, “Greedy, Mollymauk.”

Molly opened his mouth to reply, shocked, but then he saw the way Caleb’s eyes glittered with a playfulness he would never have expected of him. He laughed, the sound bubbling from him in delight before he could help it, and leaned down to kiss him again.

“Yes,” he gasped back, straightening up and increasing his pace, “Again, Caleb.” He smirked down at him, bracing a hand on the wall over Caleb’s head, suspending himself over him, “Unless you don’t think you’re up to that, Mister Caleb.”

In answer, Caleb growled softly, pulled Molly down and kissed him. Then his fingers slid between Molly’s legs, sliding him over his clit in a rhythm that had ruined him earlier, and Molly was whimpering his name helplessly as his thighs began to tremble with the effort of maintaining his pace.

Caleb drew him down further, and Molly was helpless to resist him, then he arched up and nipped gently at his ear before whispering, “Come for me, Mollymauk. I want to feel you come for me again. Now.”

Molly opened his mouth to say something that would have been both startlingly witty, and shockingly hot, but all that he managed was a drawn out moan, that might have been Caleb’s name, if he’d been coherent enough to identify it.

He froze up as his climax pulsed through him, squeezing Caleb’s hand so tightly he was afraid he was crushing it. He pressed the other against the wall, bracing himself as he started to come down, his entire body trembling, his head suddenly swimming.

“Caleb,” he panted, pulsing his hips weakly down, realising as he did so that Caleb had not come with him, “Caleb, I can’t, I-“ he was shaking so badly, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself up, much less continuing fucking the wizard beneath him.

“Shh,” Caleb murmured quietly, something about Molly’s uncertainty in this moment emboldening him.

He placed his hands gently on Molly’s hips again, and guided him up and off him.

“I don’t want to stop-“ Molly began to protest. If he didn’t feel Caleb come inside him before the night was out, he might have to tie the wizard to the bed to stop him ever leaving it.

“I know,” Caleb said, quietly.

He pushed Molly down gently into the mattress and moved over him with a smooth, fluid confidence that betrayed the man he might once have been, before the fire had burned him down to the bones, and the cruel world had made a new, hollow man upon them.

As he moved to enter Molly once more, though, he hesitated. Molly reached up, cupping Caleb’s face with one hand, the other moving to his waist to steady him. “I trust you, Caleb,” he whispered, arching up and pulling him into a kiss. He slid the hand on his face down until he found Caleb’s hand, and laced their fingers together once more, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “I trust you.”

Caleb thrust forwards and slid into him again in a single, fluid motion, and Molly’s body arched, oversensitive as he was after his climax, and a whimper bubbled from his throat. He felt Caleb freeze up again, and wrapped his legs instinctively around his waist, pulling him in deeper.

“Don’t stop,” Molly panted at him, “By all the gods and their good graces, Caleb, don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Caleb released his breath in a soft laugh, that huffed out against Molly’s face, then kissed him. “I am not going to stop,” he whispered back, dipping down and brushing his lips against Molly’s lips again, “I am going to fuck you until you come again screaming my name.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, the way that he said everything, as though it was a simple statement, something that went beyond a promise, it was merely fact.

Molly moaned, his hips arching up against Caleb, trying to urge him into movement. “Where the fuck have you been hiding?” he panted. Caleb blushed again, looking suddenly awkward and self-conscious, as though afraid he had gone too far, and Molly reached up and kissed him fiercely before assuring him, “I like it.”

Caleb smiled a little at that, then squeezed Molly’s hand, and that was all the warning he got before Caleb began to fuck into him, setting a hard, fast rhythm.

Molly moaned again, praising as much as he could between pants, and whines, as Caleb’s breathing became ragged. His back arched, and he pressed his forehead against Molly’s chest, burying his face against his neck, his body shaking.

“Caleb,” Molly gasped, “Caleb, look at me, stay with me, Caleb.” He raised his head and looked at Molly, who nodded, moaning more urgently at the unexpected eye contact, at the sudden blaze of intimacy that made the pleasure flare more intensely within him.

“Mollymauk,” Caleb whispered, his eyes shut tight as he thrust into him. A pink flush had spread through his chest, and it was flushing into his cheeks, as though he was embarrassed. He pressed his face into the crook of Molly’s neck, as though wishing to smother the words that burst from him, “Molly. Say my name. Please.”

Molly thought he was going to die off, but he bit his lip painfully, clamping down on it, and reached up to bury his fingers in Caleb’s thick, shaggy hair instead. “Caleb,” he moaned, and he heard Caleb whisper a soft curse in his ear. “Caleb,” Molly said again, “Caleb please, please, Caleb.”

With a cry that was quickly muffled against his skin, Caleb thrust once more, deep inside him, and shattered. Molly moaned at the feel of it, his body arching, pressing Caleb more deeply into him, holding him there, keeping him in place, wanting this moment to last as long as the gods would grant him on this earth.

He came back to himself a moment, a minute, an hour, a decade, he wasn’t quite sure, later, and found that Caleb had collapsed on top of him, head pillowed against his chest, still inside him, his eyes closed, looking as though he wished to melt into Molly and never leave.

Molly would have been quite amenable to that, but the impulse to take care of his partner overwhelmed that desire.

“C’mon, love,” he mumbled thickly, pressing a messy kiss to the top of Caleb’s head.

“I am sorry-“ Caleb began, but Molly hushed him with another gentle kiss, then nudged him off.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he promised, “Don’t go anywhere, now.”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” Caleb replied, thickly, his mouth pressed against the mattress where Molly had left him.

Chuckling, Molly rose and headed to the bathroom, where he fetched some damp cloths before returning to Caleb and cleaning them off. He then shifted to pull the wizard close, but Caleb slipped out of his grasp instead.

Molly frowned, propping himself up on an elbow, and watched as Caleb summoned a single globe of light into being to enable him to search the floor. He watched the wizard hastily pick up and pull on his trousers, and then his shirt, though he refrained from buttoning it.

He then turned back to the bed. Molly lifted the sheet up and beckoned to him, clearly inviting him back.

Caleb blinked owlishly at him, the moment of confidence he had displayed lost to the moment, and the sex. “Are you sure?” he began, “I do not want to intrude or-“

“Caleb Widogast,” Molly growled threateningly, “If you don’t get back in this bed and cuddle me this instant, I swear to the Moonweaver I will not be responsible for what happens to you next.”

Caleb managed a weak smile at that, and slinked back to the bed, settling himself down, and allowing Molly to wrap himself happily around him, like an enthusiastic lavender octopus.

“I am sorry,” Caleb began, “I am not very good at this, the-“ he broke off, took a deep breath, and tried to explain, “In the moment it is...Easier. Afterwards I-“ He broke off again then said, “With the clothes, for instance, I would just feel...Vulnerable wearing nothing after we have finished. I, I do not want that, but I understand why you might feel a little,” he searched for the right words, “A little put off by that, but-“

“Not at all,” Molly said, quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Caleb’s neck, “With Jester wandering around, that’s quite prudent.”

“You are still naked as the day you were born, Mollymauk,” Caleb observed bluntly, in typical Caleb fashion.

“Well naturally,” Molly smirked, nuzzling at Caleb’s ear and making him squirm. Caleb was delightfully ticklish, he had discovered recently, a fact he made regular use of. “If she comes barging into my room at the crack of dawn she’ll either appreciate the sight of my bare arse, or she’ll think twice about it next time.”

Caleb let out a soft huff of laughter. Then he sobered and said, more seriously, his body tensing in Molly’s arms, “You are sure that you do not mind?”

“Caleb,” Molly said, patiently, “You could have swaddled yourself in every single piece of clothing that we collectively own- stop thinking about how impractical that metaphor is and go with it-“ he added, irritably, knowing exactly what Caleb had started thinking, “And I wouldn’t give a damn.” He kissed the back of his neck again and gave him a soft squeeze, “The only thing that matters to me is that you’re here right now.”

“Ah,” Caleb said, quietly, as though this had not occurred to him.

“And besides, “Molly continued, shifting into a more comfortable position, letting his tail drape lazily over Caleb’s waist, curling around him in a slightly possessive manner as it did so, “I want you to be comfortable and happy, Caleb. I care about you, you know.”

Caleb was quiet for a moment, then he murmured softly, “I do know.” He was quiet for another long moment, then he said, even more softly, “Thank you, Mollymauk.”

Molly was about to open his mouth to tell him not to be stupid, but then he closed it. Instead, he simply kissed the back of Caleb’s neck, and pulled him a little closer.

The wizard fell asleep in his arms after another few minutes, the single globe of light he had kept glowing under the bed to give them a faint light to talk and cuddle by winking out as he did so, leaving Molly in the darkness of the night.

He remained awake for some time later, holding Caleb close, savouring the feeling of the way their bodies fit together, listening to the steady, peaceful sound of his breathing.

This was something he could get dangerously used to. This was something he could get dangerously addicted to, having Caleb Widogast in his bed, having Caleb Widogast be his.

This was something that he could, if he was feeling particularly dangerous, call love.

Well, Molly had been living dangerously since had first crawled out of that grave two years ago. This was nothing.

And yet, as he felt himself begin to drift off, Caleb’s warmth such a comfort, such a strange combination of newness and familiarity, with such aching rightness in it, that he wondered how he had ever slept alone, this was everything.

******************************************************************************

[dent-de-leon]

Kingsley needs time in the spotlight. We don't know anything about how he's doing during the solstice. Is he having visions? Nightmares? I wish he was talked about and included more.

aHH yes I feel the same definitely!! ; ; Every incarnation of the Circus Man is very dear to me, and I would love to see more Kingsley. We just got him for so little time, and he's so fascinating and such a love letter to how far the Nein were willing to go to save Mollymauk's soul ; ; It does make me sad that he's the only one of the Mighty Nein we didn't get to see yet, but I am hopeful that maybe we'll finally get to spend some time with him soon!

Also, the fact that the novel ends with defining Kingsley as Molly and Lucien both shaking hands, deciding to both come back together and try again...it's just so very sweet and cathartic to me, a transformation and rebirth, a miracle that amazed even one of the gods. A life born out of love.

And there's just so many fascinating directions his story can go! And so many interesting threads that potentially connect him to Rudius to me?? I mean, I still can't get over the fact that Molly was "born" in the Savalirwood, ground zero for Ludinus' first "communion" with Predathos; this cursed, corrupted forrest where restless spirits still roam. Not only that, in the comic he very much appears to be?? Born on a Ruidus flare?? If that's really the case, then...that's definitely something??

In another life, Tealeaf was warned never to trust other fortune tellers who use an "Oracle of the Red Moon"--a deck that mirrors and mocks the Moonweaver's, cards meant to manipulate and mislead, bring nothing but misfortune and misery to others. I can't help but feel like there's something very interesting there, that Molly was maybe the only one of all the Nein to be raised with superstitions about the red moon...Wonder if it would still make some part of Kingsley a bit unnerved to go there, even just subconsciously...

And even if Molly wasn't really Ruidusborn, we know that he/Lucien were fate touched. Thinking about how...it took a fate touched champion of the gods to power Ludinus' weapon. How it must feel to be a fate touched soul when everything Ludinus is doing is to sever the threads of fate and all connection to the divine. Would a part of him feel those bonds breaking, on some level?

And with all kinds of ancient arcane prisons breaking all over the world, I really can't stop thinking about how Kingsley spent years waking from nightmares about a primal scream and black chains. If Tharizdun has grown more powerful since the start of the solstice, do those dreams get worse? Does Kingsley have nights where he wakes still screaming? Or perhaps he has other dreams? Tealeaf, who was saved by the Moonweaver in every life--dreamed of her in every life--does he see her again one night, asking him for help?

Kingsley Tealeaf is born of both the Nein's love and a Divine Intervention of the gods. He's someone who's soul was found and cradled by the Moonweaver in every lifetime. Does a part of him feel indebted to the gods for that? Or perhaps it's just that he still loves the Moonweaver, sees her as something of an old friend? Would protect her the same as the Nein, because that's what you do for family?

There's just so many interesting directions you could go for Kingsley's reaction to the solstice, I think whatever Taliesin--and perhaps Robbie--decide to do would be just fascinating :') Also, I think it will be very fun if we get to see Robbie play King for the Nein episodes and I'm all for it, especially with how excited Tal was about it. But I do still miss seeing Taliesin as Mr. Tealeaf and hope he still plays him again someday too ; ;

[dent-de-leon]

Casting my Molly thoughts onto you

Sometimes I think about Molly singing tunes, mainly ones he's heard from Toya in particular. Imagine him just humming melodies to sooth Yasha's troubled thoughts. And imagine him on watch just quietly singing that one melody he heard from Toya when he first met her. And like the Nein falling soundly asleep to Molly's singing that it becomes a routine for them to fall asleep to it.

AHH YES!! I'll never recover from the fact that it's singing that first breaks that all consuming Emptiness always gnawing away at him. Molly is wandering alone in the cursed Savlirwood, lost, haunted--unable to even feel fear when confronted by a growling bear. He just feels numb to all of it. Until this moment when there's a note, a song, and it brings him back to himself a bit.

He hears Toya's song, and he can't help but follow.

It's the fact that Molly was so drawn in by this bittersweet song. It's Molly feeling this wistful longing when he hears those lines, this aching soul who just crawled out of his own grave, still almost stranded in this liminal space between life and death, still so lost and haunted. "The moon shown bright on that haunted night/As the dead sang out their song/Now's your time to drink and dance/For soon we shall all be gone." It's the way Molly looks so vulnerable, so helpless and lonely, Toya just can't bear to abandon him--

And of course, the circus takes him in--takes care of him. It was a song that saved him, much like how the Moonweaver first greets Tealeaf's wounded soul with a song. Sang for him a story of her own home--a tale of a king brought back from the dead, a promise of what's to come and a chance to be born again--

It's just so sweet to me that Molly's soul, once so shattered and lonely, always found comfort in music. His loved ones soothing him with a soft song. And I can definitely see him singing with the Nein too. I mean, we know that he used to do it all the time. Whenever he was risking his life to save others, or out for a bit of vigilante justice--he took to singing as he ran off into the night. And I'm not surprised that Toya's song seems to be a favorite of his for "choir practice."

And he does sing a bit of a fun little drunken song in that one break in episode. But I do so love the thought of Molly getting the chance for more "choir practice" on the Nein's adventures, just breaking out in song as they make a daring escape--or more likely--complete fools of themselves--

But the thought of Molly singing around a campfire for his family is even better. Molly singing Yasha's favorite songs from the circus when she's staring off into a storm, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her close. Both of them feeling a little less Empty and alone in the world. Molly singing softly when Caleb tosses and turns from another nightmare, singing until he finally falls back into a restful sleep. Mollymauk teaching Jester that beautiful melody Toya sang at their last show together--the one she eventually sang before Lucien, desperately trying to reach Molly--

I really just love the headcannon that Molly will sing for the Nein the way Toya and Sehanine used to do to comfort him. And I love the thought that, as Kingsley, he takes up choir practice again. And when he finds out Yasha plays the harp? Maybe one day he asks her to play for him. And she strums a few notes that are so terribly familiar, so bittersweet. And when he starts to sing along, he still remembers every word--

One last thing: when Lucien confesses he set the family caravan on fire to kill his parents--and the puppet they made out of his dead brother--he mourns how much he misses the little plays they used to put on. The songs. "My parents looked after the music, and we children would put on little plays. Little to others, I suppose, but grand to us. Yes, grand."

It's the unbearable pain of what comes after. The realization that his family's days of song and dance are forever over. "After a while I couldn't let it go on, couldn't look at myself or live with myself, so I burned down the caravan with all three of them inside, took my sister, and that was that...No more little songs. No more farces.'"

It's the way a hag tries to tell Lucien that the only way he'll ever be happy again is if she carves out his soul, turns him into her empty, mindless puppet. "My beautiful boy...I had hoped to make you mine one day. What a perfect specimen you would have been. Oh, how you would have been merry with laughter and dance..."

And then a part of Lucien is born again as Molly, gets to experience the joy of falling in love with music and dancing all over again. Escapes the hollow Emptiness Lucien always feared awaited him. Feeling so free for the first time in the longest time, finding comfort in singing songs with a family who loves him so dearly--

[dent-de-leon]

Keep thinking about...how Molly would've reacted if the Somnovem's Eyes ever awakened for him, if he had the chance to unlock that much power and just embrace it.

And I really do believe he would've never given in to the temptation. Thinking of...how he fought with Lucien and tried to talk him out of succumbing to the Somnovem's influence until the very end, how he desperately tried to understand--bargained, pleaded, defied him until the last moment. Thinking of the city falling apart all around them, Lucien himself tearing to pieces--Molly's horrified cry of, "Who dreams like this?" Thinking of how Mollymauk had every right to despise Lucien for what he did to him, and yet...Molly still cares enough to reach out a hand to him, to offer him the second chance that no one else would.

I think it's a combination of a lot different moving parts that made Mollymauk Tealeaf someone who would never take the Somnovem's bargain. Lucien was abandoned by all his family, abused and thrown away. But even though he awoke so alone and Empty, Molly was still embraced by a loving family, still found so much joy and love in a world he knew was, "harsh and cruel."

When his partner dies, he doesn't give in to despair; he mourns her, always carries her with him. But he also lets himself come to peace with her passing; always holds her close, yet still keeps moving forward and finding happiness--like she always wanted for him.

Whereas Lucien pushed away the Moonweaver's gentle touch at every turn, Molly wholeheartedly embraced her warmth. She reaches out to him again and again, between every painful death, ferrying him from one life to the next and giving him a softer place to land. Reminding him when he opens his eyes again "for the first time in the longest time," that it was love that made him.

And of course, Molly never wanted this. When he accidentally unlocked one of Lucien's powers for the first time, Taliesin describes him having "a mild nervous breakdown." He's terrified of the person Lucien's become, knows in his heart that he was cruel and vicious, the kind of person Molly wanted nothing to do with. He's desperate to keep from falling down the same path, so he runs from everything Lucien ever embraced.

"Whoever it was came to that end, and I want nothing to do with that. Whatever it was, it doesn't feel good when I--when something creeps through, I don't like it. I don't want anything to do with it. I was happy! I liked the circus! The circus was great!" Molly covers up the Eyes. He tells Cree to forget the book. He tries to hide his blood hunter abilities from the circus, and conceals the truth about them to the Nein at every turn.

I think a lot of it is also how Mollymauk always had the Nein to ground him. How, even when it seemed he was completely lost to Lucien's control, they never stopped reaching for him. Never stopped believing in him.

Thinking of how Caleb Widogast started off the campaign declaring, "I want to bend reality to my will," yet by the end, he burns away the one bridge back to his past--destroys it so no one else can ever have that kind of power and abuse it. Caleb, who tried so hard to save Molly from becoming that. "I think towards Molly, I say, 'Mollymauk, I am begging you. Hunger for control is insatiable, it will never be enough. Let it go.'" Who begs of him, "Snap out of it Tealeaf. We need you." Who is there to cradle him in the aftermath and promises him, "Empty no longer, Mr. Tealeaf." How the Mighty Nein all risk everything to try and save this one shattered soul. How they make him feel whole.

Thinking of how differently C2 and C3 deal with similar themes, how what could destroy one character might save another. How easily Molly could've fallen into the same trap as Lucien if the Nein weren't with him, if he wasn't so loved and cherished in a world where he still knew such terrible pain and loneliness--

[dent-de-leon]

Leo, is that Molly on the left and Lucien on the right in the book cover?! Do you think we're gonna get some inside on their thoughts in relation to each other? Like maybe Molly reacting to Caleb and Jester from inside Lucien's mind?

Yes!! It took me a second to see at first, but it’s easier to notice if you split the cover in half. The shading and red lighting kinda obscure it a little, which is very interesting, but you can see that Lucien’s horns are mostly bare (there’s just the little sun charm, whereas Molly’s horns are heavily adorned in all this fancy silver) and Molly’s got his tattoos and ornate coat, whereas Lucien’s half has only the scars and he’s wearing the heavy winter coat from Eiselcross.

Just the fact that Mollymauk is there on the cover at all--and he draws your eye more than Lucien--makes me think he’ll be more present in the narrative than they’ve let on? I mean, he and Lucien are each given half the cover. Even if we don’t really cover anything from Mollymauk’s time, we know this book will go into all of Lucien’s moments with the Mighty Nein in Eiselcross: 

“Author, Madeleine Roux, delves into the mind of one of Critical Role’s most infamous yet tragic figures, in this original novel that chronicles Lucien’s early life with the Tombtakers through his final dealings with the Mighty Nein.” 

So I think we’re going to see that shard of Molly gradually peeking through the longer Lucien travels with the Nein. And I’ve always wanted to see what exactly was going on in Lucien’s head when he was really confronted with the Mighty Nein and kept getting those flashes of fleeting memories--kept feeling Molly’s heart and soul lingering somewhere in the back of his mind, love and guilt and a torrent of emotions that were not his own eating away at him. 

We also know on some level Molly was absolutely present when Lucien took the body. He knew what was happening, but his soul was caged, unable to break free for so long. Matt actually describes through King's dreams what that felt like for him, and it sounds terrifying:

“Every now and then, your mind occasionally begins to recall memories through an occasional nightmare. Flashes of blurred memory, and time spent locked with another familiar, yet revolting place. The shell of loathing inescapable interior, looking out from your prison, pushing against your invisible binds. When your heart found the strength, giving all that you are to help those who gave you purpose in return.” 

I can't believe we're actually going to be seeing the other side of this?? How it felt for Lucien to know Mollymauk was locked away somewhere, another consciousness wrestling with his own--

Also, I kinda want to talk about the two different sides of the cover a bit, because I just think it’s so good. 

First off, I think one of the things that really catches my attention about the divide between these two is the horn charms. Whereas Molly’s moon charm is glowing with light, Lucien’s sun has gone dark. Molly’s features on the cover are so much clearer, because he’s standing in the light, whereas Lucien is shrouded in darkness. Lucien feels much more like Molly’s shadow here, and he’s almost lost in the overpowering, burning red of the Somnovum, which is very fitting.

Even Molly’s little symbol on the bottom of the book--the same one that was on his D20--deliberately shows the moon on Mollymauk’s half and the black sun on Lucien’s. I just love that it lines up like that. And of course there’s also the moons on the lining of Molly’s coat. 

Love that Mollymauk is the Mighty Nein character that was given the moon motif, because that’s just one of my favorite things thematically. Seeing it so clearly represented here also makes me a little hopeful that we’ll maybe see Molly’s relationship with the Moonweaver come up at some point. 👀 Also, I absolutely need this book to tell me if Lucien/Molly is Ruidus-born--

And it’s an interesting choice to give Lucien the sun charm at all, because it’s something from Molly’s portrait art, and presumably only the kind of thing you’d associate with him? I don’t see Molly keeping something from Lucien, or Lucien wearing jewelry that noticeable and flashy. 

But--it’s not a perfect match of Molly’s sun charm. Molly’s sun is gold and red, whereas Lucien’s is black. It...looks like the sun’s been eclipsed. So if Lucien’s associated with a solar eclipse--a moon blocking out the sun--and Molly is the moon, what’s that say about the two?? Even with Lucien in control, Molly is still breaking through? Lucien’s name is also Latin like the rest of the Somnovum, and it means Light. Which makes the allusion of Lucien to the sun feel all the more purposeful to me. I don’t know, I feel like there’s a story there. 

And the crown, that crown!!! It’s got the Eyes of Nine on it, that’s absolutely terrifying?? It looks like something wrought from the ruins of Cognouza, I absolutely love it. It’s the only thing that both Lucien and Molly share in the cover too, which is fascinating. Is it just to demonstrate that both Molly and Lucien’s lives were bound to the Eyes? An acknowledgement that they were both a potential vessel for the Nonagon? 

Or is this where we finally find out what it was that made every incarnation of Mollymauk feel like royalty? King said he chose his name because, “The very last feeling I felt was a...royal kingliness. Kingsley.” Is there something in both Molly and Lucien’s past beyond just the Eyes that made him feel that way? Did Molly/Lucien really have a crown and royal lineage once? I just!! Have so many questions--