He's really found his niche with us, for a while he was shaken up by travelling in the real world, almost drowned a few times. Did anyone tell you he died? Nott accidentally murdered him with an explosive arrow, that fight was a mess. [ Monchmonchmonch. Trauma is more easily discussed over food. ] Feels like more of us are dying these days than aren't.
[ He cringes at that, lowering his sausage and looking over at Fjord with a bit of a pained look on his face. ]
Him, Nott and you. Don't fucking do that, any of you. It's not what it's cracked up to be, so I don't want to hear about anyone dying again.
[ Yeah, he knows. Nott... Veth asked if he saw them when they were dead and that's a terrifying thought. His friends, dead... it didn't matter if they got up again within minutes rather than a year later. It was still a lot. ]
You're too important to just go dying. Heroes of two empires. Heroes do not die.
I can't exactly do that. I'm not part of any of it.
[ He takes the offered sausage and tries it with that blasted onion sauce on it. It's... better than he thought, honestly. The Exandrian version of dipping your fries in your shake.
Then Molly realizes what he said and backtracks a bit. ]
[ His hackles are up again, that clipped voice back rather than the easy, charming and shit-talking sway that's remembered. Molly sighs, pushing back his hair once more while his tail makes little annoyed whips behind him. ]
I was with you for just over a month, Fjord. You guys have been together for over a year. You're so far ahead of me that I can't even see the back of your heads any more.
[ He stubbornly looks away. Molly hates the truth, it's bitter and painful. It opens up like a wound, bleeding problems that do not need to be heard, that doesn't help the situation. It just hurts, not just him but everyone else as well.
The truth just leaves pain, and he will always prefer the lie. Pretending everything is like it used to be for the sake of not only them but for himself as well.
Yet here he is, the truth slipping from his lips. ]
You've all changed so much that I barely even know you anymore. I'm grateful to be alive, but I don't know why you even came for me. You had moved on so far from that ragtag group of assholes, you didn't need me.
If I helped seal you all together as a group, that was worth it. Now I just feel like a ghost, and afterthought of guilt. Some of you changed because of my death and it now feels... cheapened, now.
[ He can't believe what he's hearing, which is highly ironic since it's everything he expected. It makes him furious, heat burning in his cheeks as he turns to face him with none of the tact some of the others might employ, jabbing a finger at Molly's chest where he was stabbed. It's an effort not to raise his voice. ]
You stupid, selfish bastard. None of that matters! You don't have any idea, do you? No idea how much it means to everyone that you're back, you're sitting around in the dark moping about not fitting in instead of talking to us. It doesn't mean a damn thing if we've changed, we're still your friends, or did dying scramble your head that much?
[ Molly hisses back as he's jabbed in the rather gruesome scar courtesy of aftermath of his death, pulling his now less low-cut shirt more closed. ]
You barely even knew me! I can understand Yasha, but the rest of you? Fuck. You've all been together for essentially half of my lifespan and you think I'll just hop in like I've never left?
[ It's hot, vitriolic acid, these words, and it's not making any of it better. ]
What am I supposed to talk to you about? How is that even helpful? Saying that I feel like I don't fit in any more is just going to create more guilt and people denying it. The fucking truth is you're all strangers to me now. New names, new bodies, new voices, new secrets. I don't know any of you and the only reason I'm back is because you somehow need to get it off your conscience.
[ Pause. ]
...and I can't live up to this saint some of you have built me up to be, taking my words as some kind of gospel. I'm an asshole.
[ It's horrible. Ire and fury slip away word by word until even his scowl is gone, replaced with a frown. It was only a month but it was the best of his to date at the time, he didn't anticipate how it would feel to have real friends that he could trust to sleep in the same room at night or play with mid-battle because there was the certainty they would also keep each other safe. There was so much comfort packed into those nights spent on the road and in taverns, it was all a blur of excitement and magic. ]
I don't know what to say to you when you're like this, but don't you dare talk to anyone else this way. We actually do care about you.
[ He remembers all the times he went to bed on the floor (in water, once) because he was so terrified of not living up to the Tough Guy front he had going on and giving into something under his skin whenever Molly would bed down for the night, jewellery carefully placed aside and bared tattoos on view. Fjord remembers wanting, and how scary that feeling had been, manifesting in other ways as he harassed Molly for attention mid-battle and enjoying riling him up.
Fjord steps into the tiefling's space with a solemn expression, looking him over. His voice softens, wounded and quiet. ]
[ He went to far, he knows he did. Some of it wasn't even true, but he was angry and stressed and just... fucked up about all of this. It hurt, all of it and he doesn't know how to deal. Fjord's right, though. He couldn't speak this way to anyone else. ]
Fuck. That was... really unfair of me. I'm sorry.
[ Molly looks at the half-orc as the man steps into his place, and the way that voice has a pained edge to it is terrible. Sighing, he leans his head towards a pyjama top, resting his horns against the hidden abs. ]
I don't know how to handle this, Fjord. I can't lie or laugh my way out of how I feel and that just makes me feel like I'm not myself any more. Being an asshole is all I have left.
[ He pats Molly on the head between his horns, rests another hand on his shoulder to give a squeeze. ]
Nobody expects you to be an asshole. Nobody expects anything, they're over the moon to have you back because that's all that really matters to them. They missed you, not the performance of a man.
[ Molly's hair is soft, he absently notes as green fingers weave through the waves, smoothing them down in vain. ]
[ That was a little bit soothing; Molly is a very touch-based creature in general. Sure, Yasha had essentially carried him around for an entire day when he was raised from the dead and he's had a million hugs (even from Beau!), but the fact that he just said a lot of hurtful things and Fjord still wanted to touch him shaved of another layer of the storm of anger and confusion inside of him. ]
...I missed you guys too. No time passed for my consciousness but I still missed you somehow.
[ He'll hug you, green man. Getting up from his seat, Molly wraps his arms around the half-orc and pats his back a bit. That previously squished tail end curls slightly around one of Fjord's ankles for good measure. ].
...you really got broader around those shoulders, didn't you? I really better be careful to not get squished.
[ It's a lighter mood, that's for sure. It's still hurting inside, but it's on manageable levels again. Hopefully that doesn't mean he's going to have to blow up on everyone he loves before this... post-revival whatever stops haunting him. ]
[ Fjord gives him a tight squeeze for a moment, relaxing his hold but still keeping one tiefling scooped up in his arms, hands running up and down his back. Caleb would be better for this perhaps, eloquent despite brutally honest. Jester might have cried and professed her undying love for Mollymauk and yelled at him right back. Anyone else but Fjord might do, really, but he's selfishly glad he's gotten to the core of the silent problem.
His lips rest against a horn, turning his head to nose into Molly's hair instead. ]
You don't miss the accent, do you? It's only by request, these days.
[ Molly sounds a bit confused at first, but then smiles against Fjord's damn pyjama shirt. ]
...no, this suits you. I respect the idea of taking on another person's voice and mannerisms, I pretty much did the same with Gustav. I like how much more free this has made you, though.
[ Fjord seemed a lot more secure in himself. Still a bumbling awkward mess at times, but not with the shadow of whatever he was trying to prove to himself hanging over him any more. ]
You've done well, Fjord. I'm happy to see the good changes.
[ It still makes him feel like they're all different people now, but no matter his feelings about missing it all, growth was a good thing. ]
[ Molly's words stir his pride around the swelling anxiety in his chest for another reason, one so heavy he feels embarrassed in every inch of his burning face. ]
You don't know the half of it.
[ Fjord's sigh stirs dark curls as he leans back to see him and he slides a hand up a shoulder to cup a tattooed neck, thumb finding the divot of a jaw. The dim single candlelight catches in slit yellow eyes as he searches Molly's face, warring with himself on how to phrase what he needs to. ]
If you can't belong to the group just yet, how about you start with ... just me?
[ To try and make his meaning clearer, his gaze flickers to Molly's lips and back up again as his heart turns into a butterfly in his chest. ]
[ There's something going on in Fjord's head that he can't quite place right yet, waiting for the other man to get his thoughts in order and tell him what's up. That sigh is deep and meaningful, and Molly turns his up as those hands cup his chin like that. They're nice, big hands. Warm against his skin.
Then Fjord finally speaks his mind and Molly feels his breath catch a bit, the words echoing in his head. It's undeniable what Fjord is asking, especially with that look. Of course Molly's has had thoughts about almost everyone in the Nein, and he's definitely attracted to Fjord, having shared jokes, competition and room for quite a while (and part of why he liked tormenting the man by sleeping naked), but for the half-orc to want him is new.
It's a bad idea after everything he's just said while venting his frustration and hurt, but another part of Molly is aching for a distraction.
This is Fjord, though. He doubts the half-orc just wants to be a distraction.
...still. ]
I don't know if I can give you everything you're asking for.
[ He says, because he's Molly and he's a mess. Still, he leans up to press those wanted lips to green ones. Sweetly, testing. ]
[ He knows the kiss is coming but he still holds his breath for it, exhaling in a rush as soft lips part from his, the world under his lashes a blurry melting pot of red and lavender. Whereas before his heart was tripping over itself, now it feels as if the whole house has stopped moving around them, locking them together in this small, quiet moment. ]
Luckily for you, I only want what you're willing to give.
[ His nose rubs alongside Molly's, changing the angle as Fjord dares to steal a second kiss, this one firmer with a press of tusks as he cinches Molly closer. Just as lingering but not so shy. ]
[ It's a wonderful kiss and he finds himself fitting quite well between those endearing, grown tusks as they breath in each other's air after it has been stolen between their lips. That nose against his is dangerously sweet and Molly still worries that this might be a bad idea.
Then Fjord pulls him closer for a more intimate, wanting kiss and those thoughts die out and are replaced with the tip of his forked tongue begging entrance to a hot mouth.
He wants and it thrums through his body like a deep drink of a strong liquor. ]
[ Nothing is going to happen to Molly again, not as long as the Nein have anything to say about it, and right now that manifests as Fjord channels his own want into tracing the intriguing edge of that forked tongue before opening his mouth in a hot kiss and drawing it in, stroking over its heat with an inadvertent groan. He melts into him with shaky exhale and pulls Molly in with the hand in the small of his back so he's as close as can be, meeting the bulk of Fjord's body, feeling the lean-to as the half-orc lets an old attraction bubble up; the frustration of seeing a naked profile in their bedrooms, being invited to a fucking orgy, wet lavender skin in the public baths. Fjord slept in an inch of swampwater on the floor because he didn't trust himself in a bed with Molly, it got so bad to want him and so routine to deny Fjord felt anything; it wasn't right, men didn't want other men, a life of prejudice as a sailor taught him that. No one really wanted half-orcs, that was life itself's main rule.
Bullshit, all of it. He was just a coward.
He clutches a handful of curls to hold him steady, desire flaring hot and quick in his blood. It's the kiss Fjord regretted never giving him when Mollymauk was alive. ]
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He's really found his niche with us, for a while he was shaken up by travelling in the real world, almost drowned a few times. Did anyone tell you he died? Nott accidentally murdered him with an explosive arrow, that fight was a mess. [ Monchmonchmonch. Trauma is more easily discussed over food. ] Feels like more of us are dying these days than aren't.
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Him, Nott and you. Don't fucking do that, any of you. It's not what it's cracked up to be, so I don't want to hear about anyone dying again.
[ Yeah, he knows. Nott... Veth asked if he saw them when they were dead and that's a terrifying thought. His friends, dead... it didn't matter if they got up again within minutes rather than a year later. It was still a lot. ]
You're too important to just go dying. Heroes of two empires. Heroes do not die.
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[ Here, want half a sausage? He dipped it just for you, bud. ]
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[ He takes the offered sausage and tries it with that blasted onion sauce on it. It's... better than he thought, honestly. The Exandrian version of dipping your fries in your shake.
Then Molly realizes what he said and backtracks a bit. ]
I'll remember to not get stabbed again.
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[ Also, Molly is a hero, Fjord is just. Keeping that opinion to himself. ]
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[ Wait, shit. Backtrack! ]
Nevermind, I'm just being dramatic at shit'o'clock in the morning.
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[ The sausages finally lose his focus, staring at Molly at his side. ]
Is that why you're sitting in here alone too, you're not part of the rest of the house? It's just you and your Moonweaver?
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[ His hackles are up again, that clipped voice back rather than the easy, charming and shit-talking sway that's remembered. Molly sighs, pushing back his hair once more while his tail makes little annoyed whips behind him. ]
I'm still getting used to this.
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You belong with us, that's not up for debate. However long it takes you to ... readjust, we'll be here.
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[ He stubbornly looks away. Molly hates the truth, it's bitter and painful. It opens up like a wound, bleeding problems that do not need to be heard, that doesn't help the situation. It just hurts, not just him but everyone else as well.
The truth just leaves pain, and he will always prefer the lie. Pretending everything is like it used to be for the sake of not only them but for himself as well.
Yet here he is, the truth slipping from his lips. ]
You've all changed so much that I barely even know you anymore. I'm grateful to be alive, but I don't know why you even came for me. You had moved on so far from that ragtag group of assholes, you didn't need me.
If I helped seal you all together as a group, that was worth it. Now I just feel like a ghost, and afterthought of guilt. Some of you changed because of my death and it now feels... cheapened, now.
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You stupid, selfish bastard. None of that matters! You don't have any idea, do you? No idea how much it means to everyone that you're back, you're sitting around in the dark moping about not fitting in instead of talking to us. It doesn't mean a damn thing if we've changed, we're still your friends, or did dying scramble your head that much?
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You barely even knew me! I can understand Yasha, but the rest of you? Fuck. You've all been together for essentially half of my lifespan and you think I'll just hop in like I've never left?
[ It's hot, vitriolic acid, these words, and it's not making any of it better. ]
What am I supposed to talk to you about? How is that even helpful? Saying that I feel like I don't fit in any more is just going to create more guilt and people denying it. The fucking truth is you're all strangers to me now. New names, new bodies, new voices, new secrets. I don't know any of you and the only reason I'm back is because you somehow need to get it off your conscience.
[ Pause. ]
...and I can't live up to this saint some of you have built me up to be, taking my words as some kind of gospel. I'm an asshole.
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I don't know what to say to you when you're like this, but don't you dare talk to anyone else this way. We actually do care about you.
[ He remembers all the times he went to bed on the floor (in water, once) because he was so terrified of not living up to the Tough Guy front he had going on and giving into something under his skin whenever Molly would bed down for the night, jewellery carefully placed aside and bared tattoos on view. Fjord remembers wanting, and how scary that feeling had been, manifesting in other ways as he harassed Molly for attention mid-battle and enjoying riling him up.
Fjord steps into the tiefling's space with a solemn expression, looking him over. His voice softens, wounded and quiet. ]
I never wanted us to be strangers. I still don't.
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Fuck. That was... really unfair of me. I'm sorry.
[ Molly looks at the half-orc as the man steps into his place, and the way that voice has a pained edge to it is terrible. Sighing, he leans his head towards a pyjama top, resting his horns against the hidden abs. ]
I don't know how to handle this, Fjord. I can't lie or laugh my way out of how I feel and that just makes me feel like I'm not myself any more. Being an asshole is all I have left.
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Nobody expects you to be an asshole. Nobody expects anything, they're over the moon to have you back because that's all that really matters to them. They missed you, not the performance of a man.
[ Molly's hair is soft, he absently notes as green fingers weave through the waves, smoothing them down in vain. ]
I missed you, you idiot.
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...I missed you guys too. No time passed for my consciousness but I still missed you somehow.
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[ Fjord ruffles Molly's hair to try and lighten the mood. Not to avoid the issue, but perhaps ease it. ]
It's your choice but I may crush you into paste by accident.
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[ He'll hug you, green man. Getting up from his seat, Molly wraps his arms around the half-orc and pats his back a bit. That previously squished tail end curls slightly around one of Fjord's ankles for good measure. ].
...you really got broader around those shoulders, didn't you? I really better be careful to not get squished.
[ It's a lighter mood, that's for sure. It's still hurting inside, but it's on manageable levels again. Hopefully that doesn't mean he's going to have to blow up on everyone he loves before this... post-revival whatever stops haunting him. ]
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[ Fjord gives him a tight squeeze for a moment, relaxing his hold but still keeping one tiefling scooped up in his arms, hands running up and down his back. Caleb would be better for this perhaps, eloquent despite brutally honest. Jester might have cried and professed her undying love for Mollymauk and yelled at him right back. Anyone else but Fjord might do, really, but he's selfishly glad he's gotten to the core of the silent problem.
His lips rest against a horn, turning his head to nose into Molly's hair instead. ]
You don't miss the accent, do you? It's only by request, these days.
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[ Molly sounds a bit confused at first, but then smiles against Fjord's damn pyjama shirt. ]
...no, this suits you. I respect the idea of taking on another person's voice and mannerisms, I pretty much did the same with Gustav. I like how much more free this has made you, though.
[ Fjord seemed a lot more secure in himself. Still a bumbling awkward mess at times, but not with the shadow of whatever he was trying to prove to himself hanging over him any more. ]
You've done well, Fjord. I'm happy to see the good changes.
[ It still makes him feel like they're all different people now, but no matter his feelings about missing it all, growth was a good thing. ]
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[ Molly's words stir his pride around the swelling anxiety in his chest for another reason, one so heavy he feels embarrassed in every inch of his burning face. ]
You don't know the half of it.
[ Fjord's sigh stirs dark curls as he leans back to see him and he slides a hand up a shoulder to cup a tattooed neck, thumb finding the divot of a jaw. The dim single candlelight catches in slit yellow eyes as he searches Molly's face, warring with himself on how to phrase what he needs to. ]
If you can't belong to the group just yet, how about you start with ... just me?
[ To try and make his meaning clearer, his gaze flickers to Molly's lips and back up again as his heart turns into a butterfly in his chest. ]
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Then Fjord finally speaks his mind and Molly feels his breath catch a bit, the words echoing in his head. It's undeniable what Fjord is asking, especially with that look. Of course Molly's has had thoughts about almost everyone in the Nein, and he's definitely attracted to Fjord, having shared jokes, competition and room for quite a while (and part of why he liked tormenting the man by sleeping naked), but for the half-orc to want him is new.
It's a bad idea after everything he's just said while venting his frustration and hurt, but another part of Molly is aching for a distraction.
This is Fjord, though. He doubts the half-orc just wants to be a distraction.
...still. ]
I don't know if I can give you everything you're asking for.
[ He says, because he's Molly and he's a mess. Still, he leans up to press those wanted lips to green ones. Sweetly, testing. ]
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Luckily for you, I only want what you're willing to give.
[ His nose rubs alongside Molly's, changing the angle as Fjord dares to steal a second kiss, this one firmer with a press of tusks as he cinches Molly closer. Just as lingering but not so shy. ]
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Then Fjord pulls him closer for a more intimate, wanting kiss and those thoughts die out and are replaced with the tip of his forked tongue begging entrance to a hot mouth.
He wants and it thrums through his body like a deep drink of a strong liquor. ]
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Bullshit, all of it. He was just a coward.
He clutches a handful of curls to hold him steady, desire flaring hot and quick in his blood. It's the kiss Fjord regretted never giving him when Mollymauk was alive. ]
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