#carry it

[mansorus]

[punishandenslavesuckers]

Mollymauk Tealeaf wakes up in a grave by the road ten years after he died. Things have gone a bit wrong since then and he might be the only one who can set things right… since it’s the Mighty Nein themselves who’ve gone wrong. AU: Where Molly comes back to yell at his super-powered Level 20 friends. (AO3 - part1) (AO3 - part 2) (AO3 - part3) (AO3 - part4) (AO3 - part5) (AO3-part6) (AO3-part7) (AO3-part8) (AO3-part9) (AO3-part10) (AO3-Part11) 

***

“Fuck,” Mollymauk whispers.

His eyes are closed. He keeps them that way.

He says to himself, “That’s… fucking great.”

Molly stands rigid, hands knotted against his chest because that’s where, in his moment of death, he’d been clasping Jester’s hand against his breastbone. The air smells of torn grass and air after rainfall. The wind is up, warm ribbons of air tearing at his clothes and he knows, somehow, there’s a storm on the horizon in a dimension where weather should mean nothing. The breeze chills the tracks of salt water on his cheeks. The bones in his fingers ache from gripping.

Why and how can he weep as a nothing but a soul? Seems shitty.

Hands take him by the shoulders.

“Mollymauk!” The scent of dust and bone. “Are you alright?”

It’s a cold grip; slender thumbs pressing to the inside curve of his bicep with such strange and impossible force. Like a slim-fingered golem is gripping him with obsidian fingers. For a moment Molly keeps his eyes clenched, so no light can get though. He closes his fists even tighter against his chest, but the phantom heat of Jester’s skin is already fading from his palms despite the fact it was never there to begin with.

“Weird,” Molly says.

“Mollymauk, that death was different.” The fingers squeeze, words urgent. “She’s got a breath of annihilation in her and when she kills you, it hurts you down to the—”

“I can feel where Jester’s hands were.” Molly presses his knuckles tighter into his sternum. “Odd, right? She didn’t actually touch me. This is just… not the real me. Hey, is my body just lying there in front of her?”

Read on AO3

[paigeypaige19]

I’ve tried to be forgiving. And yet. There were times in my life, whole years, when anger got the better of me. Ugliness turned me inside out. There was a certain satisfaction in bitterness. I courted it. It was standing outside, and I invited it in.

Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

[the-ephemeral-ethereal]

Sometimes, the best way to do your duty is to let someone else - someone more capable - try carrying it.

from Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson 

[wecanalldobetter]

you’re still an asshole if you have a tragic backstory 

[punishandenslavesuckers]

I think I just received my most favorite comment on my Mollymauk lives AU. There’s a scene where Molly has had some traumatic shit happen and decides to, like, ingest some mushroomy extracts to relax and a reader sent me this:

“Side note; there is promising research being done that suggests that extract from magic mushrooms can help people (well, lab rats at least) recover from PTSD more quickly. You know, since that seems to be what Molly might be tripping out on right now.”

[punishandenslavesuckers]

fic excerpt

“Gods, I don’t get you,” Fjord groans, pressing fingers into his temple. “It’s been how long now and I’m never gonna fuckin’ get you, Cad. You’re just so fuckin’ – oof!”

Fjord’s complaint is smothered by Caduceus casually reaching out and yanking his shorter teammate into a hug. It’s an expert hug. Both inevitable and affectionate in equal unstoppable parts. Fjord, nevertheless, gives a cursory struggle before surrendering to Clay’s (apparently) unescapable embrace, the tension sliding out of his shoulders in increments. Molly is pretty sure he can see a glow in Clay’s fingers, light sinking into Fjord’s armor before disappearing entirely.

“Did you just hug a Death Ward onto me?” Fjord demands, muffled.

“Yes.”