muxshwriting

[muxshwriting]

arsonist's lullabye

Kaz Brekker x reader

summary: when Kaz Brekker is poisoned by a hallucinogen, it’s not Jordie he sees, it’s you || warnings: poisoning, death, revenge, pekka rollins || word count: 698 || masterlist

Kaz could feel himself falling backwards but can’t stop it. He closes his eyes and lets the darkness consume him.

The warmth around him takes him by surprise and he opens his eyes to find himself on the floor of a merchants shop. You’re standing behind the counter. You, who used to be friends with Kaz before everything and grew up with him and Jordie. Even after everything happened, you kept in touch, always offering a helping hand when you could.

"What brings Kaz Brekker into my shop at this time of day?"

One last thing, you were also dead. You had died at sixteen when the Dime Lions had raided your store and taken everything you’d worked so hard to get. Kaz had been the one to find you that morning. He had sat opposite your body, unable to touch you but unable to look away. He had done everything he could to make sure you were buried nicely and left in peace for the rest of time.

You hadn’t deserved the hand you’d been dealt and to see you standing in front of him now was jarring, to say the least. The woman in front of him now wasn’t the sixteen year old that had died, you were the same age as Kaz, all grown up like you should’ve been.

"Kaz?"

Kaz took a breath. "You’re dead."

"Everyone dies at some point Kaz. I know I’m dead because I’m not actually here. This is all in your mind Kaz, so enjoy yourself."

"What?"

You lift yourself onto the counter. "Your mind showed you me for a reason, what are you searching for?"

Kaz stayed silent, pulling himself to his feet. It was then that he realised, he wasn’t wearing his gloves, his hands were bare.

"What do you want Brekker?"

"I want revenge." Kaz’s expression hardened. "I want Pekka Rollins dead, for me, for Jordie and for you."

"Kaz, he doesn’t even know who you are."

Kaz sneered, "He knows Kaz Brekker."

"And I’ve known you since before Kaz Brekker was even born." You say to him. "Don’t lecture me about the past."

"If you have all the answers, what are you here for?" Kaz angrily asked, getting more annoyed at your mirage.

"There are never many options in this world Kaz, especially in Ketterdam, you need to learn to use what you have."

"Stop speaking in riddles."

"We all have demons Kaz Brekker. You don't forget about them and they don't go away."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

You laugh at his misery and confusion. "You need to wake the fuck up. You're living in the past, letting your ghosts dictate your future and letting yourself be led by them instead of by yourself."

"Says the ghost."

"I'm telling you to move on Kaz. Wake up and do something for you, not me or Jordie." Your voice was getting louder and louder, trying to get Kaz to listen to you.

"Do something for me!? I've only been doing things for me my whole life. If I didn't, I'd me dead. My hands are covered in blood I've spilt, for me!"

"Look at your hands Kaz Brekker."

He does look down at his ungloved hands. They're absolutely impeccable and spotless, if a little pale.

"If you are the infamous ‘Dirtyhands’, get your hands dirty Kaz Brekker. Get your hands fucking dirty!" You yell. "Stop being a coward and stand up."

Kaz snapped his eyes opened, pushing someone's hand away from him as he took his first real breath in minutes. The harsh reality of your words was starting to sink in, except they weren't really your words.

How was he supposed to move on the way you wanted him to? He had to make your death worth something, make your life worth something even more. How was he supposed to forget everything that had happened?

But you had also said that demons are always there. So he should use his demons however he wants because they're his demons. They do what he wants and the whole world is at his fingertips...

All you have is your fire and the place you need to reach.

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #grishaverse #shadow and bone #six of crows #muxshwriting #muxsh #arsonist's lullabye

[muxshwriting]

slipping through my fingers

Obi-Wan Kenobi x platonic!padawan!reader

summary: obi wan has to let go of his padawan as you grows up and out of his protection and teachings || warnings: i cried writing this, mentions of death || word count: 623 || masterlist

Obi-Wan can't help but to feel guilty as he watches his padawan interact with the other Jedi knights. He can't shake the feeling that he's letting her go out into the world woefully unprepared. You've changed so much from the young girl he first met.

He supposes these are the fears all parents feel as their child grows up. Because that's what you are to him. He raised you since you were a child to the adult you are now. You were his child, in everything but blood.

He’s watched other masters let go of their padawans and move on with life. But he wonders how they can move on without glancing back at the person they’re leaving behind. Do they not feel guilty about taking new padawans? Or are they desensitised to the whole system? Maybe the first is always the hardest, maybe it’s the first that sticks with you, maybe the sudden ache in his heart will ease when you smile.

“Are you alright Master?”

He’s been lost in thought for a while, longer than usual. Obi-Wan simply nods, taking in the time he has with you know and fondly remembering everything you had done together. These moments will not happen again, nothing ever will. Life is made of fleeting moments you don’t truly appreciate until they’re over. But you must hold tightly to those moments and cherish them so they don’t go forgotten.

It’s a duty as a parent, or pseudo-parent, to come to a stop and let their children continue on their own. It’s scary. It’s terrifying actually, but all birds leave the nest, all seeds float away in the wind.

“Are you sure Master?”

Obi-Wan placed a hand on our shoulder, “You’ve grown up so fast.”

“Master-“ Words fail you. “I’ll never be too grown up for your teachings.”

“I’m very proud of you.”

You pull him into a hug, burying your face in his chest. “I can’t cry. Don’t make me cry.”

He chuckles, sounding slightly watery.

Becoming a Jedi Knight was very important to you. It had been what you were working toward for most of your life. Somewhere along the way, you realised that being a knight meant leaving the safety net you had relied on most of your life. Obi-Wan Kenobi was your safety net.

At one point, you would be away from him for the longest time, be the furthest away from him you had ever been and see him for the final time.

It was nice to be grown but there was something to be said for youth. There was no shame in not wanting to grow up but we all do it, we all move on. A new chapter begins because the previous one ended.

Time would separate you and your Master but he would always be your master. Eventually, death would call for him and you would be left without a source of advice and comfort. Death was such a small word for a big thing. But death is only the end if you assume the story is about you.

Your story would not end at your death, the same way Obi-Wan’s story did not end at his. His story did not end because of you, his padawan, his child. Your story would not end for the same reason. Everything Obi-Wan taught you, you taught to your padawan. The chain continues on and stretches back as long as time goes on.

You could trace teachings through time, from master to padawan, as padawan becomes master and teaches a new generation.

Every Jedi carries the legacy of a hundred others on their back.

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of time.

Boy, oh, boy. I’m looking at future uni destinations right now and this song hits hard. I’m sobbing into my pillow at 1am after finishing writing this

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #star wars #muxsh #muxshwriting #slipping through my fingers #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor

[muxshwriting]

money, money, money

modern!au Aleksander Morozova x reader

summary: marrying the heir to the morozova fortune was for so much more than the money || warnings: Baghra is a bitch || words: 1078 || masterlist

Aleksander Morozova was the prolific heir to the Morozova fortune, despite a very public argument with his mother. His grandfather, Ilya Morozova first gained fame through his inventions aimed at helping the ‘average man’. Of course, his inventions weren’t the beginning. His true wealth was stolen from the collapsing Soviet Union after Ilya took his family to America to live the dream. Nonetheless, his American dream was realised in the founding of Morozova Industries.

There was no doubting that Ilya Morozova was a very influential person in the technological industry, often being the forbearer to the most successful methods and practices. When Baghra took over the majority of Morozova Industries, she changed several things, aiming the inventions at the upper classes of society and neglecting the working class man that Ilya had once helped. These changes brought in the millions that made the Morozova’s a family name. Even Ilya couldn’t argue against his daughter’s methods, they were very rewarding.

But Baghra had fallen for a man who didn’t care about success and longevity, just the money it brought in. He married Baghra for her money but she was too in love to care. That was until he left her with a five year old Aleksander and took half of everything she worked so hard to earn.

But when Aleksander came of age and was being trained to take over the company, he held a very different view than his mother. He was much more similar to his grandfather, wanting to help everyone, not just the highest bidders. Aleksander did not keep his opinions private. He often spoke to the press about what he would like to change when he was head of the company.

Baghra hated Aleksander. He was trying to destroy everything she had created, spend all the money she had made. Ilya, on the other hand, loved his grandson and professed his wishes until his dying breath, leaving everything to Aleksander. See, despite running the company, Baghra did not own Morozova Industries. So when Ilya sadly passed away, the company and its control was immediately passed to Aleksander.

His retribution was swift and imminent. A month later, Baghra had nothing left and Aleksander had everything he wanted. Then he met you…

You, an owner to another tech company. It wasn’t anything big, but you had built that company from the ground up and perfected your craft. It was your wish to collaborate with Morozova to create and distribute your products to a wider audience than you could do alone.

You had captured his attention immediately. It wasn’t just your proposal, which encapsulated the values Aleksander valued most, but it was simply you. He asked you out for drinks after the meeting, wishing to know you better. As your collaboration continued, the drinks turned into dinners, dinners turned into evenings at your apartments (Aleksander’s penthouse and your meagre two-bed). Those evenings became something you looked forward to and they only seemed to increase in frequency. You now had a spare change of clothes at Aleksander’s in case you spent the night there.

It was all so natural that nothing changed after you stopped working together. You still stopped by with his coffee every morning and his thank you’s eventually changed to small pecks on the cheek to a small kiss on your lips. There was no need to rush into things, no need to panic. Love was easy when you let it be.

It’s one night in bed with Aleks that he rolls over and whispers into your hair. "Let’s get married."

You don’t even have to think. Love was easy, after all. "Yes."

Aleksander initially thinks it should be a grand affair, a day to celebrate you and him. However, the more he thinks, the more he despises that idea. He just wants to celebrate you. There doesn’t need to be anything huge beyond a few select friends and a perfect time. That perfect time occurs when you find yourselves in Las Vegas for a tech conference. All your friends, as owners and stakeholders of other companies, are there with you.

"Let’s get married now. Fuck waiting."

You glance around, nodding. "Everyone’s here that you want?" You’re silently asking him if he wants Baghra here but he’s made up his mind.

"I’ll text Ivan and David, if you can call the girls?"

You nod, barely holding back a smile before taking off down the hotel corridors back to your room. The girls all answer the group call and you share the exciting news.

"Aleks and I are getting married here in Vegas, we’d love you all to come?"

The screams down the phone are coming from Alina and Genya as Zoya simply laughs at their antics. "We’ll all be there, don’t you worry."

You pull a simple white dress from your luggage, meant for a party night but perfect for your impromptu wedding. You know Aleksander will do something more formal back home where you can wear your dream dress, so you’re not too worried. The girls are waiting for you in the foyer and Genya has somehow sprouted a bouquet for you.

The chapel is quaint but it’s the man at the end of the aisle that you’re focused on. You can barely hear the officiant pronounce you husband and wife before he’s pulling you close and smashing your lips to his. That night is the craziest thing you’ve ever seen, you visited every bar along the strip, dancing until your feet ached and spending the whole time immeasurably happy.

Two weeks later, Aleksander comes home later than usual. "Darling?"

"Yes?"

His expression is grave. "The Vegas pictures got leaked."

Then the headlines arrived:

MILLIONAIRE MOROZOVA MARRIES COMPETITOR Y/L/N IN SECRET VEGAS WEDDING

SHOCK: MOROZOVA HEIR OFF THE MARRIAGE MARKET TO RIVAL BUSINESS OWNER

MOROZOVA MARRIED: WHO IS THE NEW MONEY-HUNGRY MRS?

You’re scrolling through the news stories that have popped up in a matter of hours. "I guess the world knows."

"My mother has already called." He says, grimacing. "She lectured me about how you’re using me for money like my father did with her before I could put the phone down."

"Did she realise that I owned my own successful business for years before I even met you?"

He hums. "She never was the smartest woman alive."

You nod with him, kissing him sweetly. "It’ll never be about the money with you Sasha. You’re more than that."

Money, it’s a rich man’s world.

AHHH, finally something that's not based on hozier. I am however revealing my deep-rooted love for ABBA now

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #grishaverse #modern!au #muxsh #muxshwriting #money money money #ben barnes x reader #ban barnes

[muxshwriting]

too sweet

Bob Floyd x reader

summary: he’s just too sweet for the world || warnings: general navy warnings (trauma, crashes) || word count: 818 || masterlist

You're sitting at the bar, nursing a beer. Your hair is falling in front of your face but you can't be bothered to tuck it back up again.

A young man with gelled hair and slipping glasses slowly makes his way over to the bar, leaning over to order another drink of his own before settling into the stool next to you. You don't even glance at him but you suppose he takes your silence as an invitation.

"Are you alright?"

You frown, turning to face him. "What?"

The man's eyes widen and he stutters out a reply, "You're sitting by yourself and you look a little sad. Are you alright?"

"Trust me man, I'm fine by myself."

He nodded. "My name's Bob."

You turn to look at his properly, intending to tell him to leave you alone to your misery. But you catch one glance at the look of pure sincerity and kindness in his eyes and stop yourself. "I'm Y/N."

Bob nodded. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from Baltimore but I live in San Diego at the moment." You gesture to the beachside bar you're at. "... Obviously." A small smile graces your face and you see Bob's own grow.

You continue talking, actually enjoying spending time with Bob and letting the tension drip from your shoulders. Talking is easy with you but the more you learn about Bob, the more you want to walk away. See, he's such a nice guy, the best kind in fact.

He's the kind of guy who shouldn't have to deal with someone like you. You're an unreliable friend, always running the risk of being called away by the navy. It was the whole reason you couldn't hang on to your high school or college friends, everyone moved to different parts of the country and you were constantly moving. You would make friends one place and then have to move somewhere else, often being stationed overseas or at different stations.

But there was nothing to stop you from enjoying this night with him. It didn't have to mean anything. You were two strangers at the bar, being company for a night and then never seeing each other again.

"Robert?" You check. "Has anyone ever called you Bobby?"

Slowly, he shakes his head. "Not until now. It’s always been Bob."

"Well, Bobby, I’m gonna change that."

Bobby seemed to register your words as he finished his beer. "Um… I should go." He said quietly, standing up.

"Why? You got a girl waiting for you at home?" You tease him slightly in good nature .

"…I got church in the morning." He shifts from foot to foot.

"Oh." Bobby really was too good for this world. "Ok. It was nice meeting you."

In the coming weeks, you push the sweet guy out of your mind, focusing on work and relishing the longer days as summer drawls in. It’s never a quiet day at the Navy, especially at Miramar. People are always getting hurt, either minor scrapes or the rare occasion of a mechanical failure. Being a medic meant your days were never the same.

Your colleague radio's in a bird strike involving two aviators and you stand in the triage room, worried what kind of injuries are going to roll in. Luckily, the two aviators walk themselves to your room and seem alright as the sit down in chairs. You double take as you see the man's face.

"Bobby?" His name falls from your lips before you can stop yourself. "Sorry."

"Hey Y/N. I didn't realise you were navy."

"I guess it didn't come up in our conversation." You smile wryly at him before refocusing on your task.

Their both fine, no concussions, nothing more than a few bruises and a the mental weight of their experience.

"I’m guessing you’re an aviator then?"

"WSO."

"Even better. Pilots are always cocky." You joke. Phoenix makes a sound of argument as you correct yourself. "The male pilots are always cocky." She smiles at you. "You're great."

"Thanks." She says to you. "I'll try and keep us out of trouble."

You nod gratefully at her. "You better. I don't want to see either of you in my triage again, you hear me?"

Bobby tips an imaginary hat at you. "Yes Ma'am." Phoenix walks out of the room but he hangs back. "Can I take you out for another drink sometime?"

"Bobby- You're a really great guy but I don't think you really know me and my life." You try to reason with him but he doesn't care.

"I'm trying to get to know you." He replies. "I don't care about the problems. We're navy, problem solving is kind of our job."

You laugh under your breath at him. "Alright Bobby, I'll get drinks. You busy tonight?"

You're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape.

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #top gun maverick #top gun #muxsh #muxshwriting #too sweet #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman

[muxshwriting]

empire now

Ben Solo x reader

summary: you’ve spent every day since the temple attack searching for Ben Solo. he disappeared that night, no body found, no trace. you just didn’t expect to find him as the leader of the oppressors || warnings: torture, capture, wounds, pregnancy, family issues, past trauma, poor boy is TRAUMATISED || word count: 1947 || masterlist

As the world came back into focus, all you could feel was pain. You didn’t know where you were or what you were doing here.

Except, this was the First Order. You were captured by them and now you had to face the consequences of that. The stormtroopers had clearly gotten to you first, judging by the cuts and bruises that ached every time you shifted slightly. You also noticed the restraints that held you upright in a chair. They scraped your skin as you tried to move around and get (slightly) comfortable.

The door whooshed open behind you and you turned your head to try and see who was behind you. A figure shrouded in black appeared in your vision and you realised this was Kylo Ren, the Kylo Ren who was known for torturing and then killing Resistance fighters. This was the end for you.

“Where’s Luke Skywalker?”

Now that was a question you weren’t expecting. Maybe ‘where’s the resistance base’ or ‘what will the resistance target next’ definitely not ‘where is Luke Skywalker.’ No one had seen that senile old man in decades.

You could still remember that night where the whole universe was changed, the final downfall of the Jedi. It was raining, dark and gloomy. You had woken to the sound of crumbling buildings and clashing lightsabers. Staggering out of your hut, blindly reaching for your own lightsaber, you watched the scene in front of you. A man shrouded in a dark cloak, either black or soaked with rain, as he drove his blue lightsaber through the chests of your fellow students. Some tried to fight but none succeeded. Luke went running towards him, yelling something about destiny but you could barely hear him over the rain.

In a panic, you dove back into your hut and threw everything your owned into a rucksack, tossed it over shoulder and ran for your life. Neither noticed you slipping away through the rain and you were even luckier for it. You hadn’t looked back since. You still carried that old and tattered rucksack you had that night. In the bottom, you had sewn a secret pocket where your lightsaber sat. It hadn’t been lit since that day and you never wanted to but you didn’t have the heart to throw it away or destroy it. It weighed you down, reminding you of who you were as you fought and ran from the First Order.

Luke Skywalker. Your old master. He hadn’t crossed your mind lately and you were annoyed to be reminded of him.

“I don’t know anything about Luke Skywalker.”

If a mask could have expressions, it would be looking at you with a smirk.

“The Resistance is looking for a map to Luke Skywalker. You were meeting with San Tekka, he gave you the map.”

You frown. “I wasn’t meeting with San Tekka, you have the wrong person. I was on Jakku searching for an old friend.” You didn’t elaborate beyond that, you didn’t want to. Everyone always said you were chasing ghosts. But Ben’s body hadn’t been buried after that night. You had snuck back and watched as the devastation was cleared up and fixed like it had never happened. There was a chance, no matter how small, that he had snuck away like you had, that he was still alive and out there somewhere.

“What do you know about Luke Skywalker?”

“He’s an old man.”

The mask scoffed. You hated that mask, who would be so afraid to show their own face, resorting to hiding themselves like a coward. Ren raised a hand to your head and you felt the familiar push in your mind.

You screwed your eyes shut, focused on keeping him away from your memories. He was obviously stronger than you, pushing past your boundaries and diving into your thoughts. The stabbing pain that accompanied mind reading always took you by surprise. A groan fell from your lips as you held yourself back from screaming. Your whole body tenses, aggravating your other injuries, sending a stinging pain down your whole body.

The pain stopped and your body sags, only held up by the restraints.

“…Y/N.” Ren’s voice is a whisper and for a moment it’s not Ren’s voice, it’s Ben’s. Your eyes stay shut, basking in the sound of a voice you had almost forgotten. Your name is uttered again and it brings you back down to reality. It’s Kylo Ren standing in front of you, not Ben Solo. It’s Kylo Ren.

It’s Kylo Ren without his mask. It’s Ben Solo. It’s Kylo Ren wearing the same face as Ben Solo. It’s Ben Solo wearing Kylo Ren’s clothes.

Kylo Ren is Ben Solo.

“No.”

He frowns, looking more like the young boy you knew and less like a Sith every second. “No?” It’s an honest question, he’s confused as to why you’re getting upset. What the hell gives him the right to be confused after all he’s done?

“No! You’re making me see things, get out of my head.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop saying my name.”

“Please, it’s me. I didn’t recognise you at first, but I knew your beautiful mind as soon as I entered it.”

“Get out of my head.” You say louder. “Get away from me.”

If this was an interrogation tactic, this was cruel. If this was real, it was even crueler.

“I don’t know anything about Luke Skywalker, I don’t know what you want, I don’t have anything that I can tell you.” The tears that had gathered at the corners of your eyes now fell. Your breathing was laboured, simply trying to force the air in and out.

“I’m Ben.” It’s not what he says, but what he does. He waves his hand, releasing your arms from your restraints and lifts your hand in his. He lets you touch his face, running your fingers over the flawless skin that you’d only dreamed of for years.

“What happened to you?”

You suppose your question catches him off guard, but there’s no malice or hatred behind your words. He takes a step back regardless, diverting his eyes to the ground. “I did what I thought was right.”

You go to interrupt but he continues.

“I was a fool. You were right all along, I should have listened but Snoke was so convincing. I thought the whole galaxy would be enough, but I never needed the galaxy. I just needed you.”

He helps you out of the chair, supporting your shaky legs and holding you tight. You meet his eyes, soft and warm like they always had been. Your Ben was here, you knew that. He would never hurt you.

“What do we do?”

“You need to go to the medics.”

“But Snoke-“

“Snoke is three systems away from here. He won’t know.” He says it with such conviction that you have no choice but to believe him.

“But-“

“We’ll get you looked after, then I’ll charter a ship to wherever we want. We’ll leave it all behind, the First Order, the Resistance, the Sith and the Jedi.”

“Okay.” You pause. “What about Leia?”

He freezes in place but he doesn’t say anything. A medical droid floats into the room, presumably Ben called for one. He’s not meeting your eyes and refusing to answer your question. You both sit in silence as the droid sprays your minor wound with bacta and sews the skin back together on the major cuts. You know you’ll be sore for a week or so but it’ll be fine in the end.

You and Ben steal away from the First Order in the dead of night, avoiding everyone else on the ship and simply revelling in your reunion. It works. All is good. You watch from a peaceful planet as the galaxy scrambles to destroy the failing first order. After their leader suddenly disappeared, the power vacuum swallowed many of the most competent generals and leaders, leaving the worst to take charge. It crumbled and the Resistance flourished.

A new government was set up, mirroring the style of the original Galactic Senate, intent on true law and order. Each planet could rule itself as long as it followed the major guidelines.

Normalcy was returned and you and Ben had settled into a comfy life where you didn’t need to worry. But then came the question of returning to his parents. It was a touchy topic for him but you kept asking. His mother loved him, you knew that and he knew that too. But he wasn’t pushed over the edge until he realised you were growing life inside you.

At the discovery of your pregnancy, Ben had been overwhelmed with love for a child he hadn’t even met yet. And he knew that he had to try and reconnect with his parents. He had to try for you and your child.

So now he stood on Chandrila, his brith planet and the planet his mother had once again retired to. His mother and father had reunited after the chaos and decided to try things again, putting their past arguments aside. You were a few steps behind him, always there but not wanting to pressure him. The front door of his mother’s house loomed in front of him and he had to take a deep breath before knocking. A shuffling could be heard inside before the door opened and an older Leia Organa stood there.

She stared at him, not believing that her son was truly there. Han rounded a corner behind her, wondering why his wife was taking so long to answer the door.

“Ben?”

He smiled, a little watery as tears welled. “Hey Mom, hey Dad.”

Leia practically tackled her son into a hug, holding him so tight, afraid he would disappear again. She met your gaze, eyes widening slightly as she recognised you from your childhood. Silently she mouth a thank you. You simply smiled at her.

“We thought you were dead…” Han said stunned. “When the First Order fell, we thought you had been killed.”

“I left.” Ben revealed. “I suddenly realised that everything I had done was for nothing.” He glanced back at you. “Y/N brought me back and I realised that no galaxy would ever compare to her.”

Han remained stunned. “Y/N? From all those years back at the Temple with Luke?”

“The very same.” You say quietly.

Leia embraced you next, smiling knowingly as she pressed a soft hand to your stomach. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

Once settled inside, Ben began your tale. Han had plenty of questions for you both, wondering where you had been and why our hadn’t returned sooner.

“We were building a home Dad.” Ben was dodging the real question. “… I was scared. I thought you might hate me or worse.”

“You’re our son Ben, nothing would make us hate you.”

“I know.” He replied. “I understand that feeling now. That’s why we’re here, because I realised how you would always care. Because I’ll always care for-“ He had to stop talking before he became a puddle of emotions. You grasp his hand tightly.

“What Ben’s trying to say is, we’re starting our own family and Ben knows he’ll always love our child, no matter what. He was too afraid before, but he understands better now.”

The Solo family shared soft smiles, slowly catching up on the years that had been missed. You sat back and watched Ben relax more and more, falling back into the easy conversation and jokes that he’d been missing out on. All was good. Ben was good.

One hundred years from the empire now, sun coming up on a world that’s easy now.

Honestly, the longest fic I’ve ever written for tumblr (almost 2k words) and I wrote this in two hours in a caffeine induced dissociation, hope you enjoyed!

Taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#ben solo x reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #ben solo #star wars #muxsh #muxshwriting #empire now #adam driver x reader #adam driver

[muxshwriting]

to someone from a warm climate

Matthias Helvar x reader

summary: Matthias didn't realise how much he craved the heat he had grown up lacking || warnings: ice court, hypothermia, mentions of drowning || word count: 883 || masterlist

Matthias is dreaming. Dreaming of hope.

He's noticed things lately, that he hadn't realised before. Ketterdam is much warmer than Fjerda. No snow will land here, even in the middle of winter and the canals don't ever freeze. But when the cold winds whistle through the streets, he notices them more. Goosbumps will raise on his arms and he'll feel the cold far more than he used to.

Perhaps it's because he's been in Ketterdam for a couple years now, maybe it's because of you. You were always warm, always wanting to be warmer. He would often joke that you were his personal hearth, keeping him warm in bed at night and scaring away the cold night air. He craved the heat. After growing up cold, he quickly became addicted to the warmth that eminated from you.

You didn't mind. It meant he would hold your hand as you walked, pull you towards him in armchairs and tangle his limbs with yours at night.

But then the Ice Court turns the whole world on its head.

The seven crows get in, the seven crows all get out. Some have a few scuffs and cuts but nothing major. It's afterwards, while still in Fjerda that the worst happens.

Trekking back to Ravka whilst not getting caught can be quite easy in a place as desolate as Fjerda. The villages are easy to avoid and the wilderness was accommadating to those who respected it.

Matthias had been a Druskelle before joining the crows in Ketterdam. He knew most of his homeland well and knew how to navigate the parts he didn't.

They had set up camp by a frozen lake and you immediately wanted to try skating. Growing up in Ketterdam, the only ice you'd seen had been small and thin, never enough to skate on. You had never felt the feeling of floating on ice.

Inej joined you, pushing herself around gracefully, looking as though she had been doing this her whole life. You, on the other hand, resembled a young foal learning how to walk.

The ice crackles as you move around, the deep grumbling sounds worrying you slightly. But Inej doesn't look worried as she continues to spin around you, trying to help you stand straight. Slowly, you're getting the hang of it, able to push yourself around without falling over every second.

Bigger cracks form under your feet as you slide and you freeze. "Inej?"

In a second, you plunge into the freezing water, lungs seizing as panic grips you. The cold is all surrounding and suffocating as you try and kick your way back up to the surface. You can't find it. The light is warped by the water, constantly moving so you can never tell where the break in the ice was.

Black spots begin to fill your vision but you refused to breathe in. The minute you breathe, the minute it's over. An arm reaches towards you in the black and you glady grab it.

Matthias pulled you out of the water, placing you down on the ice as you desperately gulped for air. His body grounded you from the frozen feeling that sat in your chest. Every breath sent shivers through you and Matthias' face only grew more worried.

"I'm cold."

A brief smile then another frown. "You need to change. Your wet clothes won't help you."

You nod, still shivering as you move to stand. You're knees buckle but Matthias catches, letting you lean on him as he leads you to your tent.

Your hands shake as you push your coat from your shoulders and move to unbutton your shirt.

"Do you want me to get Inej?"

You shake your head. "Just stay."

Matthias carefully moved around your tent, passing you dry clothes and setting up a nest of blankets for you.

Now in dry clothes, you slid under the blankets next to him and basked in the heat he was giving off. He'd taken off his outer layer so his skin could touch yours as much as possible.

Your usually warm skin was freezing to touch. He hated it. Your shivers only served to worry him further.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly. You nod, hiding yourself further into his chest. His muscles tensed as your cold hands touched him but he wrapped his arms around you regardless. “You worried me.” He confesses as a whisper.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Matthias reassures. “But just, don’t do it again, alright?”

“Okay.”

Your shivers had subsided and the warmth finally settled back on your chest. Matthias’ body was still pressed against yours and you felt his grip tighten as you shifted around. Slowly, you drifted off to sleep, glad your icy lover would always be there to pull you out of the cold.

Matthias breathed a sigh of relief as you fell asleep. Your fingers weren’t icicles anymore and some of your natural body heat had returned. He was simply glad that the cold hadn’t got you. In a frightening realisation, Matthias knew he needed your warmth more than he needed the cold in his soul. He craved you like air and that was more precious to him than Djel and his old beliefs.

Comes as natural as a dream you didn't know that you were in.

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar #grishaverse #six of crows #shadow and bone #muxsh #muxshwriting #to someone from a warm climate

[muxshwriting]

angel of small death & the codeine scene

Rebekah Mikaelson x reader

summary: Rebekah was like the drug you couldn't resist. There was only her and to her, there was only you || warnings: drinking || words: 543 || masterlist

"No Rebekah! I'm done."

Rebekah's face twisted with pain. "What?"

"You're never home!" You cry. "I go to bed alone and wake up in a cold bed, this isn't fair. I know that your family is always and forever but I won't be alive forever!"

Rebekah stayed silent, regret knawing at her insides.

Your voice drops to a whisper. "I wanted you to be my forever, whilst I'm around. But I guess I'll never be enough..."

If she couldn't be there for you, you weren't going to stick around for her. This was it. This time you wouldn't go crawling back and be swept up in her aura so easily again. This time you were staying away and moving on.

New Orleans was a big city, plently of places to go where you would never have to see her. The Quarter was easy to avoid when you were trying and boy, were you trying. Soon you would move away from this godforsaken place and forget everything that had happened here.

But tonight, you happened to find yourself holed up in a small bar, nursing your third drink of the night and quietly humming along to the songs on the jukebox. A man had approached you twenty minutes ago, drunkenly flirting and offering to buy you drinks. You'd inwardly cringed at his awkward attempts but warmly accepted his offer of a free drink. There was nothing wrong with free money when it's offered.

You let the sweet feeling of alcohol flood your veins, welcoming the buzz. But the sound of heels stopping directly behind you makes you turn.

Rebekah was standing behind you, her eyes still filled with the same love they had weeks ago. She didn’t say a word but her eyes spoke pages. Tears gathered at her lash line, refusing to fall until you spoke.

"What are you doing here Bex?"

Now they fall. "For you."

You turn back to the bar, nursing your drink in your hand. "We're over Rebekah." You remind her. "I'm done."

There's no reply so you assume she's walked away. You drop your head down to your chest, screwing your eyes shut and casting her out of your mind.

"I walked away from my family. For real, this time. I cut them off." Rebekah was still standing behind you, watching you. She had cut off her family, the ones she had been so attached to for a milennia. All for you.

You turn back around to face her with a smile. "Really?"

She nods and promises, "Anything for you."

Her hand threads itself through your hair, tugging as she pulls you closer. Her lips were so soft, so kissable. They met yours with vigour and you felt yourself melt into her embrace. Rebekah loved you, she always had. No matter how many times you had had enough, she was always there. She always came back.

It always felt right with Rebekah. Her body pressed against yours as you weaved your way out of the bar and back to your apartment. Bex was done with her old life, chasing after her brothers and helping to solve their mistakes. She could live apart from them, together with you.

I lay my heart down with the rest at her feet.

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#rebekah mikealson x reader #rebekah mikaelson #tvd #the originals #muxsh #muxshwriting #angel of small death and the codeine scene

[muxshwriting]

first time

George Weasley x reader

summary: a surprise meeting in the library spawns a new nickname, baby || words: 855 || masterlist

You were in the library, trying to get your potions homework done and out of the way. You wanted to get some practise in for the quidditch try-outs happening in less than a month. Unfortunately for you, the book that you needed was on a shelf that you couldn't quite reach. You glance around, wondering if there was anyone you could ask to help. When you saw no one there, you sigh and try once again to reach the book.

A red-haired boy wandered into her section and began browsing for a title on one of the lower shelves. He plucked a book from the shelf and tucked it under his arm. As he turned to leave, he seemed to notice that you needed some help reaching her book. He walked over to you and reached an arm up to the book shelf you couldn't reach.

"Which one do you need?"

You point it out to him. "The Secrets of Potion Ingredients and Properties. I need to get an essay done for Snape by Monday."

The boy pulled down the book and handed it to her. "Ouch. Snape's essays are always the worst."

He let out a small laugh as you reply. "Yeah. I think you Gryffindor's have it harder than the rest of us. He really seems to hate all of you."

"Yeah, maybe. You a Ravenclaw then?" He took note of your tie.

"Yes. Thank you for getting my book."

"No problem, mystery Ravenclaw girl."

"Y/N."

"No problem Y/N." He smiled.

The boy walked away from her, a small sway in his step that wasn’t there earlier. 

"Wait!" You said after him, louder than you should in a library. "What’s your name?"

The boy turned back to her. "I’d love to tell you, but watching you try to find out would be better, bye baby."

You were left standing in the library, completely distracted from your work, staring after the ginger boy as he ran away. He looked familiar to you but you couldn't place a finger on where you knew him from.

It was two weeks later that he passed you in the halls and caught your eye. Then he winked. He fucking winked at you and then continued walking as if nothing had happened.

It took another week until you realised where you knew him from. He was one of the Weasley twins, the beaters for the Gryffindor quidditch team. That day, you quite literally ran into him in the hallway and he knocked you to the floor.

Before he could even speak, you started the conversation. "Which one are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Which twin? I figured that out but not which one you are."

The boy smiles wryly. "Alright you caught me, I'm George."

"It's nice to meet you George."

He smiles even brighter, if that's possible. "I'm glad to hear it baby."

He's running off before you can reply, once again leaving you standing and watching him leave.

The weeks change everything and you find yourself seeking out George in your free time. He finds your eyes from across the great hall and will pull you aside in hallways, trying to persaude you to skip so you can hang out.

Breathing is easier with him, living is easier with him. But you can't get him to stop using that stupid nickname, 'Baby'. It annoys you everytime he uses it but there's a stupid lovesick look on his face whenever he says it.

But then things get serious. Quidditch season begins and as players for rival teams, your Captains would grill you if you were friends with the rivals. George could tell something was wrong as soon as you joined him that afternoon, discomfort written all over your face.

"What's wrong baby?"

You frown at the nickname, once again. "Don't call me that."

"What's wrong?" He's still smiling, trying to cheer you up.

"I can't hang out with you anymore. Quidditch season is starting and if I'm friends with other players, my Captain's gonna start asking questions."

George laughed under his breath. "You're worried about quidditch."

"I was worried about losing this, and now I am. I know you care a lot about quidditch and I don't want to-"

Now it was George's turn to be serious. "Y/N, I couldn't care less about a stupid game!"

"What?"

"I don't give a shit about quidditch. Especially if it's making you worry this much."

"Then what do you care about?"

"You!"

Silence filled the room. 

"Me?"

"You."

"Me?" You ask again. 

George laughed slightly. "Yes, you. I care about you baby, you're a cool girl. I don't care what Wood has to say about it. I want to spend time with that cool girl."

You laugh. "Alright. Me and you Weasley. Screw the Captains."

"Screw the Captains." He agrees. "Who are they to tell us who we can be friends with?"

"Yeah! Me and you, friends except during quidditch."

He winked again. "Maybe even more than friends baby..."

"Sure thing, lovebug." You tease back.

"Lovebug? I like it."

Some part of me came alive, the first time that you called my 'baby'.

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #harry potter #wizarding world #muxsh #muxshwriting #first time

[muxshwriting]

swan upon leda

Daniel Sousa x reader

summary: you would wait years for him, and he would do the same for you || words: 591 || masterlist

"We'll wait at this bench this day, every year." You promise. "And one day, I'll catch up and we'll both be here together again. Yes?"

"Every year, this day." Daniel promises back.

~~

You arrive early, sitting down on the bench. When you travel through space and time, loneliness can become an occupational hazard. Daniel was always there for you, running towards death without a second thought because you were there. You don't know what year it is, it's hard to keep track when it changes so much. Maybe Daniel will show, maybe it's before the promise, maybe it's too late.

The night settles in and no one arrives. He's not coming. It's not the right time.

~~

The first year, Daniel showed up optimistic. But as the years weared on, his hope slowly faded. The yearly cold and sleepless nights of waiting took a toll on his dream of you.

He began bringing books with him, to keep himself entertained as he waited. Despite the year of disappointment, he still waited the entire night each year. If you did arrive, he didn't want to miss you becuase he went home early.

~~

Finally, you struck lucky. It had been six years after the promise for Daniel but eight for you. But finally, you were in the right time for your promise to come true.

You're almost running through the streets to reach the park before darkness truly sets in. The sun is already slipping below the horizon. The park gates loom ahead and you run towards them, tearing through the greenery until you catch sight of the bench. It's empty. But it's ok, it's still early...

A man with a cane slowly lowers himself onto the bench. He glances around before pulling a book from his satchel and using the streetlight to read. Below the brim of his hat, you catch a glimpse of his face.

Your Daniel, still waiting six years later. He's obviously older now, but you are too. You approach slowly, carefully taking steps. He's engrossed in his book. Silently, you take a seat next to him. He looks up. His eyes meet yours and the book is quickly forgotten.

Without thought, he smashes his lips to yours and threads a hand into your hair. He pulls away only to breath and shuffles impossibly close to you. "I missed you."

Tears spring in your eyes. "It's been so long."

His delicate touch traces the faint wrinkles and creases that show time passed on your face. "How long for you?"

"Eight years." You answer softly. He makes a sound of protest but you interrupt him. "Eight years well spent to end here with you."

He smiles and you gladly return it. "Anything is worth it to be here with you, my love." He tries to shift but ends up wincing as his leg cramps.

You look at him, worried. "What happened Daniel?"

"Don't you worry about it darling." He shakes his head. "I don't want to ruin tonight with tales of pain." He pauses before continuing. "How long do we have?"

"In my heart, forever." You meet his gaze. "Right now, as long as you'll have me."

Daniel's mouth drops open in surprise. "You don't have to leave?"

You laugh. "I think I've earned an early retirement, don't you?"

You could watch his smile forever as he kisses you once more. "I'll have you until our last breaths, my love. Don't you ever leave me again."

"Never."

When nature unmakes the boundary, the pillar of myth still stands.

if you like these fics, give me a follow or a reblog xx

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#daniel sousa x reader #daniel sousa #agent carter #agents of shield #agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. #muxsh #muxshwriting #swan upon leda

[muxshwriting]

like real people do

Spencer Reid x reader

summary: an undercover mission reveals some deep secrets between the two of you || warnings: general FBI talk (it's the murder-stabbing show, be real) || words: 844|| masterlist

"Reid and Y/L/N, you’re going undercover together to find our unsub. We know he’ll be at this club so keep an eye out for someone that matches the profile."

You and Spencer catch each others eyes and you smile softly. He smiles back. Maybe this won't be so bad...

You're look back in the mirror, looking at the dress you're wearing, your makeup and your hair. You mess with it a bit, curling pieces around your fingers, pulling others back and pinning them in place. The dress is shorter than you'd like and has a sheer section up the side. It makes you feel sexy, sure but it also is far more revealing than your usual work attire. Spencer is going to see you in this, the guy you've likes since two months into the job.

Calling it a day, you grab your purse and walk out of your bathroom. Emily is sitting on your bed, playing with her nails and waiting for you. She looks up as you walk in, wolf whistling.

"You look good Y/N."

"Really?" You ask. "It isn't too much or too little? What if-"

"Spencer will love it." Emile jested. "Don't worry."

A knock at the door stops your worrying as you walk to answer it. Spencer is standing on the other side. Except he's not dressed in his silly sweaters and his ties. He's in a ruffled white shirt and a jacket. He looks hot and you find yourself blushing before you can stop thinking about him.

He smiles and your heart swoons all over again. He looks you up and down, a small pink blush dusting his own cheeks. Without saying a word, you reach up and unbutton another button on his shirt so it doesn't look so neat.

"Now you're perfect."

"I- uh-" Spencer stuttered as he tried to speak. "You- You look great!"

"Thanks. You too."

He clears his throat. "Shall we go?" He offers you an arm and a shy smile. You take his arm gladly and let him lead you out the door.

The club is crowded but you find a table in the corner and plant you and Spencer behind it. His arm is lazily thrown around the back of you, pushing his shirt and jacket open even more. You tear your eyes away, looking for your unsub. The two of you sit in silence, sipping drinks and observing everyone as some danced and swayed to the music.

You lock eyes with a man standing stilted at the bar, his knuckles are white around his glass and he matched the profile perfectly. You break eye contact, moving your head to whisper in Spencer's ear. "By the bar, eleven o'clock."

You watch as Spencer's eyes scan the bar until he sees the same man you did. He's not looking directly at you anymore but he's still glancing in the general direction, keeping you in his peripheral. Spencer texts Garcia, who's watching through cameras and she gets to work.

The unsub's eyes are back on you again, this time glancing down at Spencer's phone and narrowing his eyes.

"Kiss me." You whisper softly.

"What?"

"Like real people do," you beg. "Just kiss me."

He takes no less than a second to crash his lips into yours. They fit together perfectly, melting the worry in your brain. He tastes sweet, like the jelly beans you know he's hiding in his jacket for you when you get hungry. It's heaven for a moment before he pulls away and you're brought back to reality.

But his hand stays on your thigh and he presses his forehead to yours as he catches his breath. You quickly glance over his shoulder at the unsub. He's not looking anymore but he has gotten up and stood closer.

"I love you." You whisper.

Spencer's eyes snap to yours as his eyebrows knit together. He moves away from you, adjusting his jacket and letting out a shaky breath.

Inside, you're terrified that you've ruined everything so you calmly gather your things and stand up. Spencer watches you leave, throwing down cash and rushing after you, following you into the night.

A week later, Spencer finally manages to corner you by the coffee machine.

"Hey, can we talk?"

You slowly nod, dreading every word.

"When you said 'I love you' was that for the mission or-?"

Your eyes widen. "For the mission! Yeah. Definitely for the mission."

Spencer speaks slowly. "If it wasn't or the mission, hypothetically, I would ask you to say it again so I could reply the way I should have."

Hope flares in your chest as you look at him. "I love you."

He doesn't say anything, only surging forward once again to kiss your lips. Fireworks that you buried explode in a flurry of light as your heart beats even faster in your chest.

"I love you." He quietly says. "I've waited years to tell you, always afraid of your answer."

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! feel free to check out my other works x

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #muxsh #muxshwriting #like real people do

[muxshwriting]

in the woods somewhere

Jasper Hale x reader, Major Whitlock x reader

summary: when the Major comes out to play, you have to run and hope he doesn't find you || warnings: stalking, kidnapping? || words: 598 || masterlist

The sweat was sticking to your flushed skin as you ran. You could feel your heart beat in your ears, the blood rushing with every step. The cold night sent shivers through you, cooling your soaked skin. The moon shone through the trees, illuminating small patches of the ground in front of you.

You couldn't stop running. A jutting branch sent you tumbling to the ground, sprawling your limbs in every direction. But you couldn't stop running. Not now. You raised yourself back up onto shaking legs and kept going. It wouldn't be far now.

Behind you, the leaves rustled loudly. You stood still, like prey caught in a trap. Was it the woods speaking or was it him? The rustling seemed to move away, gradually getting quieter and quieter. A memory pushed itself to the forefront of your mind.

Screaming. The overlapping memories of people screaming in pain, in fear and as they died.

You run faster, jumping over roots and small bushes, looking back over your shoulder every chance you could. The trees ended in a clearing, leaving you out in the open. The world span as you suddenly stopped running, your heart hammering and breath trembling.

A sharp stone caught on your foot and you lifted it to hold in front of you. The leaves all around rustled in a symphony. There was no singular source, it was everywhere. Suddenly, a pair of yellow eyes met yours. Golden eyes that usually hold such warm were hardened and mean.

"Major..."

At the utterance of his name, the Major lunged for you, jumping from his high tree perch. Your eyes widened, stone dropping to the ground as you turned and ran as fast as your heart could handle. Fear gripped you as you glanced behind you. He wasn't there.

A hand caught your upper arm and span you back around. He was standing right in front of you. You struggled against his hold but he stood firm. Nothing could get you away from him now.

"Please." You beg, tears slowly springing in your eyes. Without a word, the Major raised a hand and wiped them away.

He grinned as you flinch away from his touch. "Now now sweetheart," his Texan drawl was dark and sinister. "Can't have you running like this, can we? You'll end up hurting yourself."

In an instant, you were back at the house. He mockingly let go of your arm but motioned for you to go inside. You massaged where he had gripped your arm, feeling it getting sore already.

"Jasper, please."

He raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the door, motioning once again for you to go in. The blood rushes from your face as you stumble through the door, not wanting to invite his wrath.

Your hand is shaking as you raise it. Slowly, you reach towards his face, tracing a finger down his cheek and cupping his chin. "Come back Jasper, please." Unconsciously, he leans into your touch but the hard expression on his face doesn't change.

"Jaz..."

The nickname cracks his facade as his eyes soften and his hand reaches up to hold yours. The tension in his body fades and he takes a small step away from you.

"I'm sorry." His voice breaks and he tries to pull away.

You don't let him, pulling him into a hug and holding him tightly before he can feel guilty about the other half of him. He didn't always have to be in control with you because you could pull him out again.

I found something in the woods somewhere.

send me an ask with a character and a song or prompt!

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

#jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #jasper cullen x reader #twilight #muxsh #muxshwriting #in the woods somewhere

[muxshwriting]

from eden

Will Graham x sister!reader

summary: Will tries to protect his sister from himself and his life, only to push her even closer to it || warnings: knives, blood, gore, graphic injury, death, murder || words: 985 || masterlist

You're sitting on your brother's porch, watching the sun rise as you wait for him. The ground is frozen over, as it often is during winter mornings and your breath forms a mist in front of you. The front door opens and Winston comes running to greet you. Will follows him out and you turn towards him.

"Morning."

"Good morning." His voice is stilted, like he's on edge. "Listen, this isn't a good time..."

"Oh, have you got work or-"

"Yeah. Something like that."

Your mood drops at his rejection. "Ok. I've got the book you asked for and some stuff for the dogs." You offer the bag that was beside you.

"Thanks."

~~

You're sitting outside his door again, waiting for Will to arrive home. Life hadn't been great recently and sometimes all you need is your brother. A car pulls up to the house and two men get out. Will and someone dressed in a very fancy suit.

"Will!" You call out to him and both men turn to face you. Will walks over to you and offers you a hand to stand.

"Hannibal, this is my sister Y/N. Y/N, this is Hannibal Lecter, we work together at the FBI."

"It's nice to meet you." You begin.

Will interrupts you. "What do you need?" He glances back to Hannibal and then to you.

Is this why Will was so distant lately? Becuase he made a new friend? "It's fine Will. It's nothing. I was just leaving anyway." You bite back your emotions and wave a goodbye before getting in your car and driving away from your brother and his new friend Hannibal Lecter.

~~

Jack Crawford calls.

Will's been arrested for a string of murders. Your heart is in your mouth and you find yourself running to the bathroom and emptying your stomach in the toilet. You can hear a muffled question through the phone but the words aren't clear and your head is spinning.

You find yourself on his porch again. Winston's head is laying across your lap and it's the only thing keeping your grounded. Stray tears run down your chin before you can wipe them away and the wind makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

~~

Will was released and aquitted from prison months ago. You know he's seen you walking in the woods near his cabin but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't call and he doesn't text you back anymore. It's like he isn't your brother.

"What's going on Will?"

He's standing outside your door, sweat glistening on his forehead and a distinct bloodstain on his cuffs. The pain in his eyes is immeasurable and his hands shake slightly.

"We need to go. Hannibal is crazy, he's going to try and kill you. We need to go."

Before you can reply, his phone rings. He shows the contact to you and it's Hannbial ringing him. You can't get your head around what Will is talking about. Hannbial is trying to kill you? You've met the man once. Maybe Will is going crazy like Alana said he was. Maybe he's not your brother anymore.

Will is pushing you out of the door, telling you to meet him at his place before he picks up the call and starts talking.

You're running. The woods are so familiar to you, bringing you a sene of comfrot as you reach the beaten path you alway take. The cabin draws nearer and a dog comes to greet you as you run towards them all.

Someone's already on the porch, standing stall and shrouded in darkness.

Your steps come to patterned stop as you stare at the figure. Tentatively you reach for you phone and switch on the torch. Hannibal is standing there, knife in hand, blood dripping from his fingers.

"Hannibal?" Your voice is quiet, afraid.

He smiles, sending a shiver down your spine as you turn and run back towrds the wood. In your panic, your foot twists and you fall to the ground. Hannibal stalks towards you, his smirk growing wider as the knife is raised.

You fumble to your feet, heart thundering as footsteps follow you into the woods. Your phone rings. It's Will.

"Will! Help me. Hannibal's here." You're yelling into the phone, not caring if Hannibal can hear whre you are. Will is yelling back down the phone telling you to run and try to loop back to the house towards him.

You dash to your left, ducking under low branches and trying to quiet your panting breaths. An arm wraps around your neck, holding you against a body. You struggle against his hold but a knife is quickly pressed against your cheek.

You're dragged back through the woods to the cabin where Will is waiting. His face is filled with worry, then replaced by fury as he sees Hannibal holding you.

"I didn't want this for us Will."

Will shakes his head. "Let her go. She doesn't know anything."

Hannibal traces the tip of knife from your temple to your chin and you try to lean away from it. He digs into your skin as you gasp in pain.

"Will-" A sharp pain in your chest cuts you off as you're unceremoniously dropped to the ground. You glance down to see a pool of red soaking into your shirt. Will is by your side in an instant, pressing hard against your chest as you gasp for air you can't seem to get.

"Will." You mutter. He meets your eyes, tears springing in his own. "It's okay. It's okay."

You're fading fast, Hannibal knowing just where to stab to hurt you the most and leave Will unable to save you. The corners of your vision blacken and you reach a hand to Will's face.

"It's okay..."

The world goes black and the last thing you hear is your brother's cry of pain as you fade from the world.

I slithered here from Eden, just to sit outside your door.

let me know what else you want to see by sending me a request! likes and reblogs are always appreciated x

#will graham #will graham x reader #hannibal #nbc hannibal #muxsh #muxshwriting #from eden

[muxshwriting]

in a week

Finnick Odair x reader

summary: nothing calms finnick like the feeling of your hand in his || summary: this is the hunger games, hunger games angst || words: 612 || masterlist

You find Finnick lying in the damp, dewy grass by the sand dunes. The wind is barely there, blowing gently across your face. His eyes are closed, arms stretched out and hands woven into the blades of grass.

You slowly sits down next to him, interlacing your fingers with his and ignoring the moisture that sticks to his skin. His breath stutters, eyes fluttering open and turning his head to face you. You simply smile, lying back to join him.

“Nightmare?”

He nods, not trusting his voice. Softly, you squeeze his hand. Even softer, he squeezes back.

His heartbeat slowed, regulating itself as you pressed your hand against his. Slowly, his arm brushed yours and you shuffled until you were pressed together, not an inch of space between you.

Dawn had not yet broken but there was no shame in lying there until dusk. The flowers could weave their way into your hair, dragonflies landing on your still legs before flying off once more. No one would bother them here. No one would even look for them.

Finnick's eyes drifted shut. He let sleep take him, exhausted from his restless night. Silently, you watched the sun rise as Finnick slept. The wind cooled your skin before the sun could warm it again. It basked his face in a golden glow that made him look like an angel. He looked peaceful. He didn't look tormented in the tranquility of this golden morning.

A furrow stitched itself between his brows, a small huff of air left his parted lips, a twitch of his head let you know what was happening. Slowly, you reached over with your spare hand and traced it down the side of his face. You squeezed the hand that held yours, rubbing your thumb soothingly over the back of it.

Finnick sighed but the tension left his shoulders and the crease in his eyebrows flattened once more.

In his dreams, he was back in the arena. It was always the arena. The arena is cold. The arena is lonely.

His entire body is damp from the lake he hunted in. He stalks out his prey like the apex predator he had recently become. In the days, he is constantly on edge, looking for other tributes and killing anyone who approaches him.

But at night, the air is even colder, clinging to his skin and settling on his bones. He lies completely still, staring up at the stars in the sky but too afriad to sleep. Every single night he contemplates letting someone kill him. He wonders how long it would take for a tribute to find him if he didn't move. The nagging feeling in the back of his head doesn't let the thought linger. He had to get back. He had to get home. He had to get to you. Home with you...

That's where he finds himself now. His skin is soaking in the moisture from the grass below but it doesn't settle cold on his bones. It flows through him, moving past. His hand tightens around yours unconsciously and your warmth calms him more than anything else could.

This could be his new forever. If he didn't have to perform for the Capitol and sell him body for Snow's benefit, he wouldn't move from this spot for a decade. He would sit by the sea, watching the tide rise and fall. Finnick would get out his Dad's fishing equipment and sit at the dock, waiting. It wouldn't even matter if he didn't catch anything, because it would have been anything other than his present life.

We'd lay here for years or for hours, your hand in my hand.

if you want a taglist, let me know. comment what kind of thing you want to see next x

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #muxsh #muxshwriting #hunger games #in a week

[muxshwriting]

foreigner's god

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!reader

summary: you're forced to marry a man you hate and play along as his dutiful wife. but what you what is revenge. || warnings: arranged marriage, main character death, injury, mentions of r@pe (one sentence, right at the end) || words: 702 || masterlist

READ THE WARNINGS ON THIS ONE!!

Feyd-Rautha knew you would be his from the moment he saw you. Your father, Leto, had presented you at Harkonnen court, as per the customs of his people. You moved with such grace and innocence that he wished to hide you from this world. Feyd did not listen to his Uncle as he discussed the arrangement with Duke Leto, choosing instead to stare at you.

A month later, you were married to the na-Baron and shipped off to Geidi Prime to play prized pet. You did not love him. You could not love him. Each night, he returned to your chambers far later than you. He climbed into bed and pulled you closer to him. But his touch brought you no comfort, only shame.

Three months after your union, you found yourself on Arrakis. House Harkonnen was celebrating the extinction of the Atreides, of your flesh and blood, your family. In the secret of your room, you let the tears fall, not caring enough about the loss of water but crying for your mother and father and brother who had been brutally murdered.

Since arriving on Arrakis, Feyd had required you to be by his side as much as possible. Even as Fremen attacks continued, he didn’t wish you surrounded by guards or back on Geidi Prime. He required you by his side.

And that was where you found yourself now. He held you to his side as the Fremen filled the chamber. They did not attack the Sardaakar, nor try to kill the Emperor. They waited and watched, blades drawn. They were waiting for him.

The Lisan-Al-Gaib. The Fremen’s Messiah that they followed without question. He marched into the hall, face shrouded in shadows and back turned as he muttered words to some men. He turned. And he was Messiah no more, now he was a very familiar face.

“Paul.”

Your brother was standing in front of you, alive. Paul was alive. The more you looked, the more you saw. Gurney Halleck was standing ten paces behind Paul and behind him was your mother, draped as a Reverend Mother. Without thinking, you pushed yourself away from Feyd and weaved towards him.

“Y/N.” The whisper of your name was all it took for you to launch yourself at him, hugging him tightly.

“I thought you were dead.”

Paul felt you relax in his arms. “What are you doing here?”

Feyd’s voice cut through the reunion, his drawl grating down your skin. “Wife…” You knew what he wanted. Feyd wanted you to return to his side, be loyal to your husband and stand against your own blood. The thought made your blood boil. Your face was murderous as you went to turn. But Paul caught your arm, meeting your eyes and silently communicating. He hugged you one last time but pressed a blade into your hand.

You slipped that blade beneath your skirts, settling your face into a far more demure look as you walked back to your husband. As you reach his side you tilt up to whisper in his ear.

“Did you know?”

Feyd subtly shakes his head. “Perhaps Uncle did.”

"Perhaps your Uncle will know when you are dead." You whisper back.

Feyd frowns, asking the silent question. What did you mean? Before he can speak, a blade is buried in his chest, digging into him. You had moved slowly, pushing it through his shield and supple flesh. The relief his imminent death brought you was immediate. This was a man who belonged to the house of your greatest enemy. His Uncle had ordered the death of your entire family and he had brutally hunted down Fremen for sport. This was the end of him.

You withdrew the knife, throwing it on the ground in front of him. "The blood is for you, my love." You recited the words he had spoken on your wedding night, when your blood and tears had stained the sheets and left you hurting for days.

This was personal, not just for your House. This was for you. No one could take that from you. He would not take anything from you again.

My heart is heavy with the hate of some other man's beliefs.

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune part two #muxshwriting #muxsh #foreigner's god

[muxshwriting]

take me to church

Aleksander Morozova x reader

summary: after you get hurt, Aleksander begins to pray to a higher power he lost faith in long ago || warnings: injuries, angst, questioning faith || words: 590 || masterlist

"Bring her in."

Aleksander watched as a broken and bloody body was dragged into the room by two guards, his face turning thunderous. They threw you to the ground just in front of the him and stood back as you groaned in pain.

"Found this one in a West corridor, trying to break into your chamber General." One of the guards spat.

"Do you have any idea who this is?" Kirigan's voice thundered through the hall. No one had ever heard him so angry. Ivan stepped forward from his post, intent on making the guards suffer. Fedyor, on the other hand, approached you on the floor and wrapped a hand around your wrist, steadying your rapid heart.

The guard swallowed nervously. "She was breaking in to your rooms sir."

Aleksander seemed to only grow angrier. "Regardless of if she was or was not breaking into my rooms, why was this not reported to me?"

"We are reporting it to you now Sir- General. She was taken into custody this morning." The guard seemed to trail off as he realised the hole he had dug for himself.

Aleksander glanced back at Ivan and nodded his head. Within an instant, the two guards were on the floor, dead. He knelt by your side, catching sight of all the cuts and bruises you were sporting. The anger rose once again. They had you for less than four hours and had done immense damage.

"Get me a healer. Now!" Without another word, he gently brought your head onto his knees. He moved a piece of hair from your eyes and cupped your face gently. "How is she?" He whispered to Fedyor, almost scared of the answer.

"She's strong." He reassured. "Her heartbeat is steady and it's getting stronger by the minute. She'll be waking up soon."

He moved his hand from her wrist and let Aleksander's replace it. He clung to your wrist like a lifeline, holding his fingers in to feel your heartbeat and pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. You stirred. A low groan escaping your lips as you try to shift your battered body.

Aleksander was quick to shush you. "It's alright. Don't move, okay. You're going to be fine."

"Aleks?" Your eyes slowly peeled open, staring up at Aleksander and immediately meeting his gaze, your eyes filling with tears as you did. "Sasha..."

A small smile graced Aleksander's lips as the door opened and Ivan came rushing in with a healer. It truly was a sight to see; the General of the Second Army was kneeling on the ground beside a beaten girl.

"I’m tired." You whispered. A tear slipped down your face.

"It’s okay." Aleksander whispered back. "You’re gonna be fine. Just go to sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up."

To fall in love is to create a religion with a fallible god. And that's exactly what you were, fallible and mortal.

With the reassurement, you fully relax and let your eyes slip shut. Aleksander ran his hand through your hair, the movement sending you to sleep. Even after the healer began to work, he stayed. He watched as your brow furrowed, then relaxed. He would stay from now on.

For the first time in a while, in a long, long while, Aleksander prayed. He had been around to see many Saints rise and fall. Because of that, he had stopped believing long ago. But maybe he should have believed. He would believe now, for you.

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.

if you want to be added to the taglist for these, let me know! as always, likes and reblogs help me grow and inspire me to write more xx

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone #grishaverse #muxshwriting #muxsh #take me to church

[muxshwriting]

to be alone

Nikolai Lantsov x wife!reader

summary: in the silence of the morning, nikolai is more than content to be alone with you || words: 536 || masterlist

The cool morning air tickles your skin. A warm hand presses against your back. There’s a small slither of light peeking in the gap between the curtains, barely illuminating anything. The dawn hasn’t truly broken. Your husband stirs beside you, rolling onto his side.

His eyes peel open and meet yours, shining through the darkness.

Here, in the silence of the morning, Nikolai did not have to be King. He did not hold the burden of responsibility nor did he handle the consequences of his country. Here, he was simply Nikolai. He was your husband, your lover.

Nikolai loved being King. He helped his people in ways he could not before, in ways no one had before. But he also hated being King. He hated the power it gave him, he hated how it made him separate to everyone else again. All he wanted was to lie in bed with his love by his side, but that could prove impossible.

Sometimes Nikolai would remind himself of the days you first met. The days on the Volkvolny, the peaceful days, brought solace to his turbulent mind. He could remember the rocking of the ship, the sound of waves sloshing against the hull and the echoed laughter in the tight corridors.

Times were simpler then. Nikolai was a second son, free to do as he pleased.

That tranquility was what he felt now, as you pressed gently kisses to his shoulder and held his in your arms. No words needed to be said, enough had been spoken in the past. Touch was enough. Simple touch to say “I’m here.” “You’re not alone.” “I love you.”

The monster inside his did not stir. It did not protest as Nikolai sweetly kisses you back.

When another dignitary would greet you, kiss your hand, the monster inside Nikolai reared its shadowed head. It didn’t want to see another man touch you, even if it was the expectation of foreign Dukes and Princes.

What Nikolai or the monster didn’t know, was that in those moments, you were wishing to be a million miles away. The feel of cracked lips on your hand felt like sandpaper and sent shivers up your spine. You know it’s improper to simply walk away or ignore the men all together so you stay. You make polite conversation and you falsely smile at the jokes you’ve heard a hundred times before.

The thought of running had crossed your mind many a time. The Volkvolny was waiting for her old captain to return. Tolya and Tamar would love to be back sailing the high seas. Nikolai only needs to don the teal coat for the swagger to return to his step and the tension bleed from his stance.

Instead, both of you were stuck playing Ravkan royalty at court, simpering and sticking up to anyone who could give you an advantage in the future.

The bedroom was away from prying eyes. Here, you could tear your itching finery off and throw it into a faraway corner, never to wear again. Here, Nikolai could complain without worrying and pose plans that his advisors would scoff at.

Here, the King and Queen were simply people.

Oh, to be alone with you...

if you want to be added to my taglist, send an ask, comment or dm me!

#nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov #grishaverse #shadow and bone #to be alone #muxsh #muxshwriting

[muxshwriting]

someone new

Jesper Fahey x reader

summary: you should have known that jesper would never want you. but you didn’t think he would be to mean as so make you think it was possible. || warnings: injuries || words: 655 || masterlist

You knew exactly who Jesper was, he was a crow for Saint's sake. No one messed with any of the crows unless they wanted to incite Dirtyhands' wrath. But when he appeared huddled under your porch, it made things a little more complicated. He was covered in growing bruises, a scattered red line forming around his throat. Silently, you opened the door and let him hobble inside.

He collapsed into a chair, panting for breath. A hand reached down to fiddle with his pistols as you readied a bowl of water a cloths for him.

"I just want to help," you began, unsure how he would react. He meets you gaze, looking down at the cloths and water. "I know how to patch you up if you want?" He said nothing. "Or... you can do it yourself. I don't mind you staying here the night, just leave through the back in the morning. My neighbour is really nosy and she'll start asking me questions."

Jesper takes a deep breath. "Do you mind-" His voice cracks halfway through the word as he motions to his neck. You nod in response.

Carefully, you squeeze the water from a cloth and wipe the dirt from his neck, taking your time not to press into any of the bruises forming. His skin hadn't been broken but it was flushed and angry.

"It'll be painful for a while." You tell him. "Keep it warm, if you can. Heat will make it heal faster, not boiling heat though, just warmth."

He nods silently at you and shakily stands. Jesper takes one more look at you before he's rushing out of the door and back into the cold night.

Jesper Fahey is a nutorious flirt. He could charm his way out of hellgate if he tried hard enough. You, on the other hand, were simply trying to survive in the barrel. So when a bunch of flowers appears on your doorstep the next morning, you think nothing of it. It was simply his way of saying thank you. But when another appears the day after that, you start to wonder. You hadn't done much, just cleaned his injuries and gave him a safe space to rest and recentre himself before he ran off. It didn't mean anything ans the flowers certainly didn't mean anything.

But when you run into his in the street, that can mean quite a lot. His body slams into yours and almost sends to tumbling to the ground.

"Hey- Jesper." You're slightly shocked that it's him you've quite literally run into. You catch sight of the healing bruises on his neck. They've faded very quickly. "You seem better."

Jesper grins at you. "It's all thanks to you. You were my gentle healer that night." He seems to think for a second before continuing. "Did you get my flowers?"

"I did! They were very nice, thank you."

He winks once more before continuing down the street, weaving his way through the throng of people until you lose sight.

You don't see Jesper Fahey for another week. When you do see him again, it's across the square. It's across the square and you're watching his flirt with a pretty and young stall vendor. She's blushing as soon as she looks at him and you can just tell what he's saying to her.

You were simply part of his game. Another girl to add to Jesper's long, long list of distractions. This vendor was the next on his list.

You knew Jesper Fahey, you knew his reputation and knew who he was. Why then, did his actions surprise you? Perhaps you thought you were different. He had sent you flower everyday for a week but as soon as that week ended, he moved on like nothing had happened. I suppose that's what hope gets you in the Barrel, disappointment.

I fall in love just a little old little bit every day.

if you want to be added to my taglist, send an ask, comment or dm!

#jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #shadow and bone #six of crows #muxsh #muxshwriting #someone new