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.
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Vampire’s dessert
Vampire x fem!reader || kitchen sex, vanilla sex || TW: blood
You are watching the cookies in the oven, trying really hard to ignore his presence as he walks around the house. When he comes behind you and plasters himself against your back in the most exquisite hug, you melt against him. He starts kissing your neck, slowly, teasingly.
“Stop that, I’m watching the cookies.” You say, but you incline your head to give him better access. You can feel his smile against your skin as he keeps kissing that point that makes your knees weak. He tightens his hold on your hips.
“Come on baby, I’m hungry and I want my dessert.” His voice drops low, almost dangerous (in the best way possible). You shiver, goosebumps erupting all over you. There’s an edge to his voice that promises a great time, and you want to give in so badly. But you promised you’d make cookies.
“I’m making cookies for tomorrow, wait for a bit, it’s not going to be long.” You try to argue, fighting against his hold, but not too much. You don’t really want to say no, and he knows it.
“We don’t have to go anywhere.” He uses his compelling voice, the one that gets everyone to do what he orders, including you. The voice that makes your insides turn to jelly. “I can fuck you right here. You can watch the cookies if you want.” He whispers against your ear, tongue licking along the tendon of your neck, biting softly. You can feel his fangs, almost breaking the skin.
“But the cookies…” You whisper, a weak attempt to argue with him knowing full well there’s no way it’s gonna work. He decides that’s the perfect moment to spank your ass, making it jiggle as you moan. He chuckles behind you, biting harder at your neck, his other arm holding you close to his body. The moan that escapes your mouth is sinful. You feel your body giving in. He knows what buttons he has to press, how hard, he knows your body better than you do. You are his to play and he knows all the cheat codes.
You turn around in his embrace, arms instantly going around his neck and kissing him deep and heated. You control the kiss for maybe two seconds before his hands are at the back of your head, guiding your every movement, deepening the kiss and fucking your mouth like you know he’s going to fuck your pussy. Thrusting his hips forward so his hard dick grinds against your stomach, making you whimper.
The kiss starts to become desperate, tongues battling and hands roaming around. His hands feel like they are everywhere, you wonder if he’s using super-speed to touch you as much as he can at the same time. The noises you are making would make the devil blush. He grabs your ass and urges you to jump, your legs going around his middle instantly. You grind your hips against his erection, your pussy wet and your movements frantic.
His hands pull at your hair, pushing your head back as he starts to suck on your pulse point, drawing the veins up. You feel him moving at the same time, carrying you to the counter and sitting you down. You hear him unbutton his trousers, his dick leaking and ready at the perfect high. The wave of pure heat that runs down your spine leaves you shivering with need. Sometimes you forget how strong he is, how unnatural his movements are. He usually looks so normal and composed, but moments like this remind you that he’s not human, he’s a monster. The one they warned you about, the one stalking you in the night wanting to eat you. And good lord did he eat you… In all the ways he could.
You try to push your yoga pants down, but you aren’t fast enough. “Hey! I liked those!” You complain as he rips a hole right in the middle, exposing your pussy to the air, to his dick.
“I’ll buy you more.” He says against your neck, nipping at your skin.
He doesn’t make you wait any longer, he pushed right into your welcoming heat, making you groan and arch your back. He starts a punishing pace, not bothering to let you accommodate him, the edge of pain making you hotter. Your blood is rushing through your whole body, exactly like he wants. His hand finds your clit as he keeps going, sucking on your pulse point. When you feel your orgasm at the tip of your fingers, so close you can taste it, he bites down. You cry out, a mix of pleasure and pain making your climax so intense it feels like an out of body experience.
Your heels dig into his ass, rocking yourself against him, trying to match his pace as he keeps going, and going, and going… It all passes in a blur, the pleasure and the blood loss making your head dizzy, your pleasure being the only sensation in your body. You feel like floating. When he comes, he retracts his fangs and moans, his dark red eyes shining. He reminds you of the villain of the stories your parents told you as a child, wild and dangerous… a villain that became your prince charming.
You can feel the blood going down your neck, he didn’t close it yet. He loves to let it drip so he can lick it up later from between your tits. You try to be annoyed about it, but it always ends with his mouth on your pussy, so you can’t complain too much about it. You lay there, body close to his, sharing body heat and little caresses.
And then you smell smoke.
“My cookies!” You yell, pushing him away and stumbling to the oven door, your knees weak.
“What?” He asks, confused. He’s in his post orgasmic/post feed bliss, doesn’t even know what you are talking about.
“My cookies burned down because of you!” You feel the anger rise inside of you, at the same time as a tear of frustration falls from your eye. He turns around as soon as he hears you sniffle, his head moving at unnatural speed, a movement that makes him look like a nightmare.
“Oh, little human, don’t cry.” He fusses over you. “I can buy you cookies. I can buy yo diamonds. I can buy yo whatever you want. Stop crying.” You found out real quick how much your tears freak him out, and you try to take advantage of it as much as you can. “What can I do to make it better?”
“Fuck me again?” You ask, pouting in your best interpretation of a sad puppy. He picks you up and carries you to your bed with his super-speed, making your head dizzy as you giggle.
Who cared about the cookies anyway?
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💜 happy intl women’s day to queer women, trans women, black women, indigenous women, asian women, latin women, jewish women, muslim women, women of mixed faiths, non religious women, fat women, underweight women & women struggling with body image, women struggling with addiction, women that have a complicated relationship with gender and the word ‘woman’, gender nonconforming women, women that use pronouns other than she/her, women that are unhoused or displaced, women that self ship, women that draw, women that write, women that create, and women that struggle to find their creative outlet.
happy intl women’s day to women in palestine, in sudan, in yemen, in the congo, and everywhere else in the world.
happy intl womens days to all women.
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