#mollys writing

[amalthea-wolfwood]

We're the Same

Summary: Ogata questions Molly about why it decided to kill its husband

Ships: Molly x Ogata

Setting: Canon

Warnings: Abusive relationship, child death

Dividers

"Morgan."

Molly turned at the sound of the voice to find Ogata standing in its doorway once again. He had been here quite often recently, Molly smiled and nodded to him.

"Good morning, Mr. Ogata."

Ogata immediately began unbuttoning his uniform jacket, he peeled it off and tossed it into Molly's hands, "I need it fixed."

"Oh, of course, sir," Molly grinned mischievously, "I feel like I just did this for you not too long ago."

Ogata huffed, "Military's not exactly delicate work, what do you expect?"

"I expected you to throw your coat at me at least once a week," Molly laughed, "I help the other soldiers here too, but I seem to see a whole lot of you in particular."

"Are you implying something here, Morgan?" His eyes narrowed as he watched Molly take a seat on its bed and prepare to work.

"Oh, not at all, sir." Molly replied with a smug smile still plastered across its features.

Ogata stood for a while longer, silently watching Molly work. It seemed unbothered by his presence, by his eyes on it. He wasn't used to someone being so relaxed around him. He gently sat down beside Molly on the bed, leaning in to get a closer look at its stitching.

"You're really good at that." He commented blankly.

Molly didn't look up, simply nodded and carried on, "Yes, sir. My mother was a seamstress and she taught me everything she knew."

Ogata sighed and looked away, "You don't need to call me sir, or Mr. Just Ogata is fine."

Molly smiled, "Oh, alright. Sorry if it bothered you, I'm just used to being formal with all the men in my life. It's a habit now, even if we're familiar."

"I'm not..." He paused, deciding not to finish that train of thought, "You were even like that with your husband?"

Molly paused for a moment, he turned back to look at it, its hands were gripping the fabric tightly, its face was contorted in anger. And then like nothing had happened at all, it went back to sewing, expression neutral once again.

"Yes. He insisted on it."

He studied Molly as it carried on with its work, looking for any more hints of such emotion, but he found none. His cold eyes fixated on the swift, skillful movement of its hands with the needle.

"...Can I ask you something?" He finally spoke.

"Hm. You seem to like doing that." Molly noted.

"What?"

"Asking me questions while I fix your clothes for you. You seem to like it." Molly explained.

Did he? He hadn't noticed. "Do I do it often?"

It nodded, "You do."

He thought for a moment before responding, "What did I ask you last time?"

"Hmm, last time... let me think..." It stopped, looking up, finger pressed to its mouth as it contemplated, "Oh, that's right. You asked if I knew anything about guns."

"I see..." He was silent again for a few moments, eyes following Molly's movements again, "...What made you decide to kill him?"

Molly was startled by the bluntness of the question, its eyes widened and it drew back from him, "Uh... that-... well, that certainly is, uh..."

He continued, "You said he beat you. But you tolerated the beatings for years before you did it. What made you decide he had to die instead of just running away? What was the final straw? That's what I want to know this time."

"You uh... you sure ask interesting questions, Ogata..." Molly took a deep shaky breath in, "It wasn't... it wasn't the beatings."

"Then what was it?"

Molly hesitated, looking at Ogata, he had the same blank expression as usual but somehow it felt so safe, it found peace in his dark, empty eyes.

"I... I was pregnant. But... I lost the baby." Molly said, "It was how he acted after..."

"Will you tell me about it?" His hand slid over its, even if his face couldn't hold the same emotion, his touch was warm and comforting.

It nodded and closed its eyes, resting its hands on its thighs as it thought back to that day. It was so vivid in its memory, every detail. As much as it may have wanted to, it could never forget.

***

Molly had been huddled up in bed for the past few days now, hardly able to walk. It didn't do much but curl up and sob, and when it wasn't doing that, it was sleeping, tossing and turning with nightmares. Michael had hardly looked at it in the past few days, let alone spoken to it. Molly had instead been kept under the care of an old friend, Dr. Basil Grimoire, as well as Michael's servants.

This particular evening, Basil was sat at its bedside as it laid facing opposite the door, curled up into the fetal position, holding its stomach and sniffling. It heard the door to the bedroom creak open behind it and Basil looked up. It didn't need to ask, it could tell who it was by the look on Basil's face. But what could he want now, after ignoring its pain for the past three days?

"Will she be better in time for our trip?" His voice was cold and uncaring.

Basil scoffed, "In two days? No. Of course not."

He sighed in frustration, "Suppose I'll have to drag her along like that then."

"Excuse me?" Basil stood from his chair, teeth gritted and hands balled into fists at his side.

"You heard me," Molly heard the floorboard creaking under his weight as he approached the side of the bed, "I will not be leaving my wife while I go to a foreign country."

"Your wife just gave birth a few days ago!" Basil snapped.

"And yet there is no child to show for it."

Molly felt something snap inside of it when it heard that. No child to show for it? The way he said it was as if she had never existed at all. That was their daughter, no, Molly's daughter. Only Molly's daughter. Because it had been Molly who had carried her tenderly in its own body all that time. Molly who had nearly died to bring her into this world. Molly, who had held her lifeless little body, swaddled in fabric. Molly who had said goodbye, despite never really getting to say hello. And Molly alone who had grieved the little life that never was.

When he had been told the news, he had come into the room and stood over Molly's bed as it held its daughter in its arms. He regarded her with cold indifference. We will simply have to try again. That was all he had to say. All she was to him was a failed attempt.

Basil had been there too that day, and now here he was again, by Molly's bedside, holding back his rage. His face twisted as he breathed raggedly, trying to calm himself down enough to speak, "Morgan is in no condition to travel."

"Well, I'm telling you she's going to."

"Pardon me, sir, but who's the medical professional here-"

Molly sat up, putting its hand up to silence Basil, "Dr. Grimoire, please. It's fine." Molly turned to Michael shakily, "I'll go with you."

He nodded solemnly, "That's right. I know best, dear, I'm glad you're finally starting to learn that."

Molly gritted its teeth and nodded, slowly sliding its feet over the side of the bed, "Of course, sir."

Basil put his hands on Molly's shoulders, gently nudging it back toward the bed, "Morgan, you can't-"

"Dr. Grimoire..." Molly met his eyes, brows furrowed, lip quivering, "I will be okay. I will."

Michael turned and headed back toward the door, "You should begin packing. You're behind."

"Yes, sir..." Molly nodded, "But... oh, I am still a bit weak. Do you suppose... I could trouble you to help, Dr. Grimoire?"

Basil breathed out slowly, head down, eyes closed, "I suppose so."

"Good," Michael paused in the doorway, "I'll be in my study. If you need anything else... call Helen here. I have too much to do to be bothered."

And with that, he was gone. Molly shakily stood from the bed, making its way to its closet, Basil following not far behind. It began sorting through its clothing, Basil stood at its side, allowing it to brace itself against his arm.

"Molly, you really aren't in any condition to travel at all, let alone internationally."

"I know, Basil, but I'm not going to appease him," Molly turned to face him, "I'm going because this is my way out."

Basil looked confused, "What... what do you mean, way out?"

Molly hobbled back to the bed and sat down at the foot of it, "He's been planning this trip for a while now. Ever since I heard word of it, I've been teaching myself Japanese." Molly smiled but tears streamed down its cheeks as it continued, "He doesn't know a word of it. I can... I can leave. Basil, I can run away. How can he look for me if he can't speak to anyone?"

Basil shook his head, "You... you can't be serious..."

"I am. If everything goes well, I'll contact you and I'll tell you where I am," Molly wiped its eyes with the back of its hand, "You can't tell anyone. Please, Basil. I can't live like this anymore."

Basil paused, he took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose where they had sat. He sighed and nodded, "Contact me as soon as you think he can't find you again. I'll come. I don't want you to be alone."

"I will. I promise."

Molly stood and began gathering up its luggage and essentials with Basil's help. Molly felt bad for lying to Basil, but it couldn't tell him the truth. He'd be horrified if he knew. Molly had tried so hard to forgive him for everything else, but this was too far. He was so callous about its daughter. As much as it hated him, as much as it suffered because of him, it could never hate her. She was its daughter, and it had loved her. It didn't understand how he couldn't love her. How couldn't he love her? Why wouldn't he love his daughter, if not his wife, why not his own daughter?

At first, the plan had been exactly as it had told Basil. It had prepared for life in Japan, and it was simply going to run away. Until he had told that nurse to take Molly's baby from it, until he had told her to get rid of it. Like she was nothing, less than nothing, like she was garbage. That's when it knew Michael had to die.

***

It hadn't meant to get so wrapped up. It hadn't meant to tell him that much. By the time Molly finished speaking, it was sobbing. Ogata remained silent, gripping its hand tightly, expression unchanged. Molly looked at him through mist clouded eyes, it could've sworn there was something else behind that emotionless face. But it could've just been projecting.

"What was her name?"

Molly was caught off guard, he'd spoken it so quietly, so softly. It almost thought it imagined it. "Wh... what?"

He spoke louder this time, "The baby. What was her name?"

"You know something, Ogata?" Molly smiled, wiping its eyes with its handkerchief, "Of all the people who know, you're the first person to ever ask me that."

"Maybe they don't think you named her. You loved her so much. I figured you must have."

"Yes," Molly nodded, "Annaliese. Her name was Annaliese."

"I like that name. And I think you made the right choice."

"Thank you, Ogata... I..." Molly slowly raised its hand, pressing it against his cheek, staring into his eyes. They were still cold, dark pools of black. His expression was still a blank one, lips flat, no feeling behind his gaze. So why did it feel so comforted, so safe? More than it ever had by anyone else.

It started to lean toward him, heart pounding in its chest, but it froze. Suddenly realizing what it was doing, or what it was about to do, it jerked back quickly, apologizing. Ogata was quick, grabbing it by the wrist and tugging it back toward him.

"It's okay."

He cupped Molly's face with his other hand and leaned it, pressing a kiss against its lips. It stared at him in shock when he pulled back, he relinquished his grip on its wrist and guided Molly gently to lay its head against his chest, petting its hair softly. Molly stiffened, unsure what to make of it all, but eventually relaxed against him, arms wrapping around his back.

"You're safe here with me. Because we're the same, you and I."

[tubborucho]

makes sense

[stay-close]

It’s kinda pointless to fight for what you want when what you want continues to break your heart.

Molly McAdams

[nevarroes]

i know a piece of furniture hate to see gortash coming

[asoftepiloguemylove]

THERE'S ALWAYS MORE // ON HEALING

Mandy Hale // 小年的你 Better Days (2019) dir. Derek Tsang // Molly McCully Brown "Poetry, Patience, and Prayer" from Places I've Taken My Body // B.N Pressman Stories of My Childhood // Karin Hadadan Little Moments of Joy That are Actually Big Things // Aftersun (2022) dir. Charlotte Wells // unknown // Patrick Ness More Than This // unknown // Honey Boy (2019) dir. Alma Har'el

[nellasbookplanet]

I've been thinking about Mollymauk, as I'm periodically wont to do, and the fandom discussion about him as a moral compass. Because the interesting thing here is, Molly wasn’t a very moral character. He was an unrepentant scammer. He had no respect for interpersonal boundaries and would deliberately push and break them. Generally, he was an asshole. As far as actually having a strong moral stance I would say Fjord was the standout of early m9, and to some extent Beau.

But here’s the thing: almost all of early m9 thought of themselves as horrible people. Fjord had been bullied so bad growing up that he still dealt with self-hate from it, and now suffered from survivor's guilt to boot. Caleb had killed his own parents. Beau, while she hated her dad, also had internalized self-hate and on some level thought she’d been such a shitty daughter she deserved his treatment. Nott was stuck in a body she considered monstrous. Yasha had survivor's guilt and knew she’d done bad things in her blank spots. Even when they did good, they didn’t think of themselves as good. Most of them were suspicious and asocial and faced the world with the same kind of distrust they expected to be (and were experienced in being) met with. (Jester was an exception, an agent of neither good nor bad but of amoral chaos)

But Molly was different. He was outspoken about loving life and people. He wanted to spread joy, even to people he didnt know or had even met: he slipped coin into people's pockets, hid a silver in a tree just so some stranger would one day be happy to find it. He openly cared for the party early on; was one of the first to step in and help Caleb when he went catatonic in battle. Above all, Molly had rules: where everyone else would agonize over what was the right or wrong or smart thing to do, Molly loudly proclaimed we don't leave people behind, and we leave every place better than we found it.

But the thing about Molly’s rules was, they were largely a cover. While the rest of the m9 thought they were bad even as they did good, Molly thought of himself as good even as he did bad. He scammed people, but made it a good and memorable experience, therefore thinking he gave more than he took. He charmed Nott and Fjord without consent, and when confronted would claim it was to help them. Out of the group, Beau saw through this, not because she was a better person but because she was a cynic. She saw that he caused harm, just as she did, and was personally affronted that he still thought of himself as good and tried to leave people happy, whereas she deliberately left every place worse than she found it.

I see Molly as a moral compass of the group not because he was actually any more moral than them, but because they made him their template. He was joy and brightness and he died trying to save them because it was the right thing to do, and they all chose to honor him by emulating his rules more than Molly himself ever did, because to them it was more than just a cover, backed up by genuine moral thought and discussion rather than small gestures. He taught them that it was possible to be kind of a shit person and still be good, to still love yourself and others. The idealized Molly they created never existed, and finally died for good when they resurrected him in the end and were met with a stranger, who they welcomed with the same love and care they would've expected Molly to show them.

[bigfootsmom]

left a ringing in my ear

bucktommy • hurt/comfort • 7.4k

for @iinryer <3

Prolonged exposure to loud noises can cause permanent hearing loss. The repeated abuse dampens the cochlear nerve and damages the little hairlike structures, called cilia, located in the inner ear. Noise at 120 decibels can cause ear discomfort, at 130 decibels it can lead to pain, and anything above 140 decibels can rupture an eardrum. A jet engine can produce a sound as loud as 160 decibels, depending on proximity and Buck had been pretty damn proximal. Buck is not thinking about cilia or decibels now. All he’s thinking is jet engines are really fucking loud as he braces an arm against the cement barrier and vomits all over the pavement.

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[thoughtkick]

It’s kinda pointless to fight for what you want when what you want continues to break your heart.

Molly McAdams

[teddybearty]

Finished Prison of Plastic for the second time recently sooooo here’s a BEAR TRAP!! 🐻 🐻 🐻

[amalthea-wolfwood]

🐇 Hello! My name is Amalthea/Molly or Morgan! This is my self ship blog!

🐇 Please do NOT follow me if you are a minor or your age is not listed! You may still interact with my sfw posts, I'm just not comfortable with you following me.

🐇 Tags for spicier content are "🌑 after dark" and "suggestive" if anyone needs to block those

🐇 Common triggers are tagged "tw (thing)" if you need something specific tagged, please let me know!

🐇 Follow the footprints in the snow? (More info under the cut)

🪡 F/O list with ship tags here

🪡 Crush list with tags here

🪡 Familial and Platonic F/O list with tags here

🪡 List of self ship AUs here

🪡 Pronouns page

🪽 Commission Info! (Status: CLOSED)* Regardless of what it says on the post linked here, they are currently closed. I will repost the info to this blog when I have reopened them.

Additional:

🤍 I reblog other's ships to my side blog, @/amaltheas-reblogs. They will be tagged "other's ships: (character name)". I ask that you please use this system for tagging shared ships of mine as well.

🤍 You may refer to my s/i either as if it is me or as an OC, I don't mind either way!

🤍 Please do not refer to Wolfwood as "Nick" when interacting with my content. I'm uncomfortable with this for personal reasons.

🤍 I'm fine with you reblogging art of shared f/os from me, provided it's one I'm comfortable sharing.

🤍 I'd rather not disclose my personal triggers publicly, if we're mutuals and it comes up I'll ask you privately about tagging.

Lynx dividers. gun divider. angel divider. gif

[tubborucho]

i am not doing this right but i am right

[mollyrolls]

hey cupid! ☆ iwaizumi h. x reader

1. i got nervous

warnings: language, violence (one slap), insufferable pining, probably ooc

an: both chats are continuations of the introductions so make sure to read those first!

prev. / mlist. / next

entry 192, pg. 3:

fun facts!

☆ kenma posted a fight video like 30 seconds before their group chat lit up in flames. he momentarily wondered if he caused yns reaction through some weird form of manifestation.

☆ yn has 3 main journals: one for her novel, one for practicing prose/writing poetry, and then her diary.

☆ she laughs reading through it because you can see her thought process so clearly and her working things out in real-time.

☆ the boys gc is struggling rn because they do not know WHAT akaashi meant with his texts.

prev. / mlist. / next

[pinkcreek]

‘They Said That She Had Been Killed By Swans,’ a short story by me is now live on my substack.

I remember my late grandmother telling me when I was a kid that I should be wary around the swans in the local waters because they were strong enough to drown a child my age. I have no idea if that is true but it has always stuck with me and I think about it every time I see a swan.

[drachen-katze]

I could not be McCoy. Like. Bro was best friends with Kirk in the academy and Kirk got him out of the lowest point in his life. He saved him by forcing him into Starfleet. And I hate to say it, but I think for a good long while it probably hurt to see and know that while Kirk was his best friend, Kirk became most definitely closer to Spock. And Bones is okay with that, he knows there’s nothing to be done about it, but I still think it stings him sometimes. Like he’s sitting and drinking alone in his room thinking about the fact that Kirk and Spock are playing chess and Kirk is smiling at this walking computer and is so close to him after such a relatively short time

I think Jim still is and always will be Bones’ closest friend, but Bones is no longer Jim’s closest friend, and he hasn’t been ever since Spock came into the picture. And I think he should be allowed to feel hurt over that.

[perfectquote]

It’s kinda pointless to fight for what you want when what you want continues to break your heart.

Molly McAdams

[bigfootsmom]

brush the blood off (my teeth)

bucktommy • hurt/comfort • 6.5k

a 8x01 coda

Buck feels unmoored, head bobbing through the crashing waves of static trapped in his skull.  Ears ringing, Buck’s eyes slide unbidden to the dark stain on the floor, Gerrard’s blood seeping into the concrete. Someone should probably clean it up sooner rather than later. The edges of the puddle are already going rust brown, tacky boot prints stamped around it in a frantic macabre dance. Buck traces the steps with his eyes, coming to rest on his own feet.  He feels dirty. He needs to leave— he needs… he needs to go home.  — After the events with Gerrard, all Buck wants to do is go home. He ends up at Tommy’s house.

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