MorningDove
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Brown dwarfs are objects which are too large to be called planets and too small to be stars. They don't have the mass to create nuclear fission. So, they are called 'failed stars', stars who died before ever being born.
This is the story of Molly, a nobody from a desert planet who could have been somebody but was never given the chance.
Recent bookmarks
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You were the one thing I could count on by PryingBlackbird
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
09 Oct 2021
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Verin's brother is assumed to be dead - until he shows up on his doorstep one day, bleeding and in need of help.
Series
- Part 9 of Whumptober 2021 Collaboration
- Language:
- English
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- 3,082
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- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 7
- Kudos:
- 177
- Bookmarks:
- 19
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Bookmarked by MorningDove
18 Feb 2026
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When Verin received word of his brother's funeral far too late to attend, Verin was struck by how alone he felt, despite the presence of his Den. Feeling robbed of something as simple as saying goodbye to his older brother, Verin sought out the man his brother had grown closest to over the last few years, Caleb Widogast, the last person to see Essek alive in Aeor's ruins.
Bookmarked by MorningDove
16 Feb 2026
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(and) i'll come running if you call by vagabondfirelily
Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)
02 Nov 2023
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The curtain of bloodied hair moves as Verin tries to shake his head. “The gods have a cruel sense of humour if this is their idea of ferrying souls across,” he rasps weakly.
“You’re not dead, you idiot,” Essek hisses out, even as relief washes through him at the sound of his brother’s voice.
Verin perks up at that. His head tilts to the side and one blue eye peeks at Essek from behind his loose hair.
“Essek? What in the Light…”
(Or: Essek tries to rescue his brother. He ends up meeting Deirta instead.)
Bookmarked by MorningDove
08 Feb 2026
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"My," Flins says, mouth curling upwards, a play at a jesting smile, mirthless despite his internal amusement at the sight of this boy. Such a forward little thing. "I'm honored to hear that I'm such a discussed individual, truly, their gossip paints me as a more interesting individual than I am, in truth."
There's something like a bite of laughter that escapes the boy, hidden and cut off aside from the upward twitch to his mouth. "Is that so?" Illuga questions, not unkind, but not cowing, as he lets his gaze drift from Flins' person to instead drag it along the lighthouse that Flins claims as his abode. "Yet, did you not yourself admit to having few visitors out so far? That seems to be quite solitary, no?"
"You say such as if not every Lightkeeper has their eccentricities." Flins returns, smooth and easy, an interest piquing at the way Illuga's expression shifts into something a little warmer at the mention of the organization. "Indeed," he continues, a teasing bite to his words, "Are you not out at such a late time due to your own eccentricities? After all, I see no reports in your hands."
Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins on what it means to grow attached.
Bookmarked by MorningDove
29 Jan 2026
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If he could scrub it off, he would.
It takes a while for the name to turn up at all, as it often does when one or both souls are not consecuted. That alone is enough to disappoint his parents - even more so when it becomes apparent that he is not a returning soul. By ten, Essek has begun to wonder if he will never have a name at all. By thirty, watching all his peers struck with new distractions, he has begun to hope he won't.
It lasts until he’s nearly ninety. Essek has been convinced for decades that he’s managed to escape the matter altogether; perhaps, he had thought, the lack of interest he has always felt in that direction has spared him from the entire ordeal. But there it is, one morning, engraved across his chest as though it has been there since birth.
Bren.
Bookmarked by MorningDove
26 Jan 2026