#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 in, 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."

[stay-close]

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

Molly McAdams

[tubborucho]

makes sense

[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.

read on ao3

[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!! 🐻 🐻 🐻

[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.

[sturple-the-fuckweasel]

For every reblog I get on this post, I'll write one sentence on my WIP. And I mean it - this might just motivate me to keep writing, if nothing else does

[amalthea-wolfwood]

Favorite Person

Summary: Molly thinks back on a previous interaction with Ogata as it helps an injured Koito, following Ogata's escape from the hospital.

Setting: Canon Ships: Molly x Ogata, Molly x Koito Warnings: Violence, injury, spoilers

Dividers

"Let me ask you something."

Molly looked up from its work upon hearing the familiar voice. He stood there in the doorway, cold black eyes fixed on Molly, his emotion was unreadable.

"What is it?" It stuck the needle in its holder and folded its hands atop the jacket that was sitting in its lap.

"What is it you want with me?" He asked.

It furrowed its brows and laughed awkwardly, what did it... want with him? "What do you mean?"

He huffed, obviously frustrated at not receiving an answer immediately, "If you didn't want something to come of this, you wouldn't be sticking around. So, what is it? Are you trying to repay me- or are you trying to turn it around so I'm in your debt now? What is it?"

"You're asking this because I do things for you? You really think that's why I do it?"

"What else would you want?"

"It's not anything like that, Mr. Ogata," Molly smiled, "I just want... to be your favorite person."

He looked rather unimpressed with its answer, "That's all?"

"You make it sound as if it's something small, Mr. Ogata. But that's a lot to ask of someone, isn't it?"

"No," He rolled his eyes, "It's not a lot to ask for something you already have, is it?"

Molly was taken aback by the comment. He really liked it that much? It grinned, "You mean that?"

"I mean it, but don't go making a big deal out of it." He said, waving it off as he turned his back to it.

It nodded, "Uh... Of course. I won't."

"Good."

That was the last he had to say on the matter before walking away and leaving Molly by itself again. Molly smiled to itself and picked the needle back up, picking up where it left off on his jacket.

His favorite person…

***

It was a strange time to be remembering the conversation, as it knelt on the ground in the hospital, tending to Koito's wounds after Ogata had escaped through the window.

It was a good thing that, despite his obvious interest in Molly, Koito seemingly hadn't managed to pick up a word of Dutch. He had bought into Molly and Ogata's little performance, the fake argument they put on in Dutch for him. He had no clue what they had actually said, he had only their tone of voice to go off of and that's what Molly had been banking on.

Though now Molly had to grit its teeth and endure the harsh words Koito had to say about Ogata. As much as it wanted to snap and defend him, now was no time to be losing its temper. It had to maintain a cool composure and keep Koito and the others in its favor for now, or it would never be able to get back to Ogata.

Koito sat up, clutching the side of his head where Ogata had struck him and muttering another curse under his breath.

"Don't strain yourself, you got hit pretty bad." Molly scolded.

It did feel guilty, it liked Koito despite the tensions between him and Ogata, and it didn't like seeing him hurt. It would have to chew Ogata out for kicking him so hard when they saw each other again. At least it could do that.

"Don't worry about me, Morgan, I'm fine," He smiled reassuringly, "We have to make sure Ogata doesn't get away."

No, it had to make sure Koito didn't get in the way.

Koito stood, but he nearly tumbled over immediately, falling against Molly's arms to brace himself. It helped him stand upright, but stood firmly between him and the doorway, taking a handkerchief out of its pocket and wiping the blood that trickled from his mouth.

Or... kill himself trying.

"I appreciate you helping me, but I need to-"

"No," Molly cut him off sternly, "Please. The others are out there already, they'll handle this."

Despite its best attempts, Koito was simply too persistent. He gently but firmly pushed past Molly and hobbled out toward the door with his hand pressed against his head. It grimaced and followed behind him hurriedly.

"Mr. Koito," It sat its hand gently on his shoulder, "Please sit down."

Molly peaked out over his shoulder into the snow as he stood there. It could see Sugimoto and Asirpa, standing in the snow, watching something off in the distance. It couldn't see what they were staring at, but its breath caught in its throat, anxiety bubbling up as it waited for something to happen.

It continued watching as Tanigaki and Shiraishi came running up to meet Sugimoto and Asirpa. Sugimoto had turned and was heading back towards the hospital, Molly had to hold itself back to keep from showing the joy and relief it felt when it heard him loudly announce that Ogata had fled on horseback and they hadn't been able to catch him.

"Damn it," Koito hissed angrily, bracing himself against the door, "That bastard got away."

Molly took Koito's hand, he turned to face it, his expression softening as they locked eyes.

"I'm sorry... about all of this... everything he's done. I can't believe I-" It made it sick to even say this but it swallowed that feeling for the sake of the plan, "I can't believe I ever helped him. He's sick, that man." It raised its other hand and placed it to Koito's cheek, "You'll find him, but... there's nothing you can do for now. Won't you please come sit down now, Mr. Koito? You're in bad shape."

Koito sighed and nodded, "Fine. But we can't stay here much longer."

"Of course."

Koito allowed Molly to lead him back into the building and to a place where he could rest for a moment. As it sat him down and looked about for something it could give him for his pain, all it could think about was its reunion with Ogata, what he had said to it before he left.

"I'm going to meet back up with the old man. Once you can get away, come find me."

It would. The moment it had the chance to slip away from this group unnoticed, it would. It would find him and come back to him. No matter how difficult it was, it wouldn't abandon him. Because it was his favorite person, and he was its.

[username8746489]

Scenario using the "Naven is head of Bliss Ocean" theory with Sylvie discovering it

(Fic under cut; wordcount: 1,308)

"It's you, isn't it?"

Naven stared at him with an unyielding smile, tilting his head curiously, "Whatever do you mean by that?"

The two of them were standing in an abandoned room in the convention hall, the only light filtering in through thick curtains closed over the windows. Despite that, Sylvie could've sworn Naven's hair was glowing with an almost radioactive green gleam.

Yoomtah looked between both guys, practically vibrating on her heels, "Should I-"

Naven shook his head, smiling at her, "Could you leave us alone for a second?"

His bodyguard stood straight up, a saluting hand on her forehead, "On it, bossman!"

Sylvie's eyes trailed after her as she somehow sprinted out of the room so fast, only a blur was left behind in her wake, slamming the door so hard the walls seemed to shake. He returned his steely gaze to Naven, "I know everything."

"You'll have to enlighten me," The CEO responded with a frown, resting his chin on his hand, "I'm afraid I don't have any clue what you're talking about."

Sylvie pointed an accusatory finger, narrowing his eyes through his glasses, "Bliss Ocean. You run it." An uncomfortable silence followed his statement. Sylvie swallowed, "Don't try and pretend otherwise, I have proof-"

Naven interrupted his bluff with slow clapping, walking ever closer to the psychologist. He normally wasn't threatening at all, looking like a strong breeze might knock him over. And yet, Sylvie found himself stepping back, a hand shifting to grab the yo-yo in his pocket.

"Congratulations!"

Sylvie paused, somewhat surprised at the ease with which Naven said it.

"You've caught me! It's impressive really, considering that you only started investigating this today. Maybe you do live up to your, what was it?" Naven tapped his chin with a finger, looking off into the distance. Sylvie scowled. He was being underestimated. "…'Child genius' title? The way Molly talked about you, I thought you were maybe cheating your way through school."

Sylvie flinched. Molly talked about him? And… not in a flattering way. He could gather that much.

"But it doesn't really matter, does it?" Naven returned his gaze to Sylvie, boxing him in against the wall, "Who's going to believe you?"

"Huh?"

"You're just a kid, aren't you?" He asked, voice dripping with sugary sweet condescension, "Why would they trust you of all people? The random teenager who's been spouting random conspiracies about Bliss Ocean being at this convention."

"I-" Sylvie's mouth was dry, but he still spat out the words, "I'm not a kid!"

"Aren't you?" Naven's smile grew ever wider with each passing second of silence from Sylvie, "You've spent your entire life in a race to grow up. But guess what? Being an adult isn't about having a job, or a house, or a car. It's about the skills and connections you make in your youth." Naven bopped Sylvie's nose, "And in your rush to become one, it seems you haven't really grown up at all, have you?"

"But I do acknowledge the fact you know now." He leaned down, whispering in the teenager's ear, "You've done so much at only the age of fifteen. It's a shame they'll remember your murder more than your accomplishments."

Sylvie swung a sloppy punch at Naven, missing, but continuing to swipe at him, "Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'm not- I will expose you!" They continued to move towards the center of the room, culminating in Sylvie tackling the sickly man to the ground, grabing fistfuls of fabric as he hauled Naven's torso up by his shoulder-cape. He hissed in his face, "I'll make sure everyone will know about what you've done."

Naven was still smiling, "You can try."

The door slammed open, light flooding into the room. A whole group of people were standing in the frame, led by Yoomtah, who casually flicked the lights on with a grin, "I brought who you wanted!"

Molly, Trixie, and Phoenica were gasping in horror. Giovanni was staring at him with hardly concealed discontempt. Rick was just… looking. The smile on his face suggested an emotion, but Sylvie had spent enough time with him at this point to know it was for show.

"Sylvie!" Molly cried, "Get off of him!"

Yoomtah hopped over, grabbing Naven by his armpits and yanking him out from under Sylvie with a giggle, sending the psychologist toppling to the ground. She used her hand to dust off Naven, before smiling at him with her hands on her hips, "Silly, silly, I leave you alone for five minutes and you get yourself attacked by a kid! What would you do without me?"

Naven almost looked like a completely different person, sheepishly adjusting his glasses, "Sorry, sorry…"

"Naven's weak!" Phoenica frowned with a pout, walking over to hug Naven's legs, "It's not right to attack someone who can't fight back! It's not right to attack someone in general!"

"Why were you even trying to fight him?" Trixie squinted, stepping in front of the CEO like she was his hired bodyguard.

"Probably got made fun of for being a NERDDDD!" Giovanni and Trixie high-fived.

Sylvie remained on the ground, legs sprawled out beneath him. He might've been stationary but his mind was still spinning, stammering over his words, "But I- He-"

Naven brushed off the crowd of people surrounding him, approaching Sylvie, "I know that you've been struggling a lot with this whole… 'Bliss Ocean Investigation'." Naven reached out a hand, "But you shouldn't let it consume you."

Sylvie smacked it away with an incredulous glare, "Don't psychoanalyze me! That's my thing!" He turned to the group, gesturing to Naven, "He's- He's the head of Bliss Ocean!"

They all blinked at him with varying amounts of confusion and weariness.

"Oh my," Naven said, sounding as if this was the first time he had heard this accusation.

"Sylvie!" Molly hissed, hands clenched tight around the straps of her backpack. "Why would you say something like that?!"

"Because I'm right!" Sylvie protested, fists balled in his lap, "It all makes sense, doesn't it?!"

"No?!?!"

"He's a Mundie in charge of one of the biggest corporations in the world!" Sylvie retorted, "Bliss Ocean is a large Mundie terrorist group! Where do you think they're getting all their funding from?!"

"You can't just say he's a part of a mundie terrorist group because he's a Mundie!" Phoenica gasped in horror, hands clasped over her mouth.

"And isn't one of their operatives a bounty hunter?" Molly added, "They could easily be getting money from there too."

"But- But-"

"He reminds me a bit of Lorelai," Naven chuckled a bit, "Only seeing what he wants to and refusing to see any other perspective."

Sylvie didn't know who Lorelai was. But evidently, everyone else did, the atmosphere of the room shifting to an oppressive pressure, all pushing down on him and him alone. There was no sympathy to be found in their gazes, only disdain. They were projecting. Just that one comparison was enough to equate him to whatever wrongdoings Lorelai had done.

"Let's go," Giovanni murmured to the three girls, gently corraling them back to the door. Yoomtah followed his example, dragging Naven by his hand.

Sylvie only managed to move when he saw Rick go to join them as well.

"Rick! Rick, you believe me, don't you?" Sylvie begged, grabbing at his hand, "You've been with me this entire time-"

Rick stared down at him. The friendship string connecting their two souls appeared, hanging in the air and crackling with black energy. Then all at once, it exploded, shattering into pieces and raining down like soot. Rick took back his hand with an sad frown, walking back to the rest of the group.

They turned off the lights as they left, leaving a kid shaking in the middle of an empty room, all by his lonesome.

[tubborucho]

i am not doing this right but i am right

[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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