darkhearthorns · 1 year ago
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🧚
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Maverick Draven Dark Prince of the fae forests, follows the legacy of the Mistress of Evil.
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Selective, Indie RP blog writing/roleplaying since 2010 Mun and Muses are 21+ Multiship and Multiverse friendly, plot in IMs, no discord Please read rules before interacting ||
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Backstory
Maverick's story begins in the enchanted realm known as the Moors, ruled by the powerful and feared sorceress, Maleficent. Born out of forbidden love between Maleficent and a human prince, Maverick's existence was considered an abomination by those who held prejudice against the union of fae and humans.
As a child, Maverick inherited the striking physical features of his mother, with raven black hair, piercing green eyes, and an air of undeniable magic. However, he also carried within him the compassionate nature inherited from his human lineage. This duality within him became a source of internal conflict, as he struggled to reconcile the dark reputation associated with his mother and the inherently good-natured spirit he possessed.
Growing up, Maverick witnessed firsthand the animosity and hostility between humans and fae, fueled by the deep-rooted grudges and history of warfare. These experiences left a profound impact on him, instilling a desire for change and a longing to bridge the divide between the two worlds.
Despite the strained relationship between Maverick and Maleficent, he yearned for his mother's acceptance and guidance. However, Maleficent's own inner turmoil and her past experiences made it challenging for her to fully embrace her son. Maverick's quest for his place in the world, torn between the darkness associated with his lineage and his own innate compassion, became a personal journey fraught with self-discovery and growth.
Throughout his life, Maverick sought to understand the complexities of his heritage and the true nature of the fae. He delved into ancient texts, seeking knowledge about the history and traditions of his kind, hoping to uncover a path towards reconciliation and harmony. Along the way, he encountered both resistance and support from various factions within the fae realm, each with their own motivations and beliefs.
Driven by a deep sense of purpose, Maverick dedicated himself to bridging the gap between humans and fae, believing that understanding, empathy, and shared experiences could heal the wounds of the past. He yearned for a future where the two worlds could coexist in peace, free from the shackles of prejudice and fear.
Maverick's journey, marked by personal struggles, conflicting loyalties, and a relentless pursuit of unity, would ultimately define his legacy as the son of Maleficent, a catalyst for change in a world torn by ancient enmities.
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k9effect · 25 days ago
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I dont know if you're taking suggestions at the moment but I can't get the idea of retired!Bradley who's let his hair grow out a bit and got a bit of a tummy out of my head.
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I also couldn't get this out of my head. I hope I did him justice to your vision <3
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101maverick · 4 months ago
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one shot with comic dick grayson where you guys get into a small fight and it gets to the point that when you spar together, he purposefully pins you to the ground to make you listen to his apology����
A/n: ooooohhhh this is juicy! Perfect angst material eheh🤭 imma have fun with this one >:) Not really sure about the “comic” part tho, cause i’m still at the start of my comic journey, but I’ve seen panels here and there on tumblr so imma see what I can do for u
Word count: 1400
There’s Something in Your Eyes
You are being stupid, really.
Logically, you know Dick loves you.
Logically, you know there is nothing going on between them.
Logically, you know Dick is an extremely influential hero, and that basically everyone in the hero community looks up to him since he’s been in it for forever, which makes it normal for him to have had many flings with people he still to this day works with.
However, logic doesn’t stop jealousy from burning in the pit of your stomach every time you see him interacting with one of them.
It’s not even one particular event that sets you off, more so a series of tiny little things.
Each reunion, each debrief, each cheesy quip, each mission, they all pile up until what was once only a tiny twinge of jealousy has turned into a gaping hole in your chest, out of which comes only anger and insecurity.
You aren’t an intergalactic princess like Koriand’r.
You aren’t an historic sidekick partner and lifelong friend like Barbara Gordon.
You aren’t some charming top-model or Lord-knows-what-else that his past stories surely are.
You’re just you, and while you don’t necessarily think badly of yourself, nowadays you aren’t sure that ‘you’ is enough.
And all of this is so unfounded that you feel silly at the thought of even voicing it, and you really didn't mean to make a fuss, but when Dick comes home after the umpteenth space mission with the Titans, raving about Starfire's intergalactic ambassador skills, you can't help the irritated quip that makes it's way past your lips.
“Cause she’s always so amazing, isn’t she?” You huff. Satisfaction coils in your gut, a bit of the tension inside you easing as a bit of your pent-up frustration finally finds release. You stifle it as best you can.
At that Dick looks up at you, startled. You feel your previous satisfaction wither right alongside the happiness in his eyes.
You are in your shared apartment’s kitchen, the island between you as he sits on a stool while you lean against the counter.
“What?” He asks, confused. His expression is rapidly morphing, reminding you of something awfully akin to a kicked puppy.
You backtrack as fast as possible. “Nothing, don’t think about it.”
Shame colours your cheeks, and their sting joins the burning of your mounting shame, bubbling under your skin. You turn your body away from him, not wanting him to see.
Dick isn’t having that though, because your boyfriend, your sweet and perceptive boyfriend, sees the way your shoulders are hunched and your brow is slightly furrowed and immediately clocks what your remark was all about.
He shoots you a concerned glance. “Babe, you alright?” He asks while sliding off the barstool, making his way around the kitchen island. Ever the tactful one, as always. “If there’s something bothering you, we can talk about it—”
You cut him off. “I said it’s nothing. There’s nothing to talk about.” The irritation in your voice is a poor shield to hide behind, a hastily put-together cloak of dryness and hardened stares for your shame to shroud itself in.
Dick remains standing there, halfway around the kitchen island, as you make your exit to the bedroom.
————————————
The day passes, and you keep your distance. Just the thought of how Dick would react to you voicing your insecurities, the absolute hurt that would mar his features at his girlfriend accusing him of cheating of all things, makes the flame of shame and self-hatred re-ignite in your ribcage, inflaming your lungs with every breath.
You manage to deflect any attempts at confrontation in the car, spending the whole ride to the Manor looking out the window and blasting music through your earphones.
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It all comes to a head in the Batcave, obviously.
You’re training in a corner of the gym area, going through your usual routine. Dick comes up to where you are and stands there, waiting for you to pay attention.
After a solid five minutes of him standing there unmoving and of you stubbornly ignoring him you cave and pause your reps. You keep your eyes stubbornly fixed ahead of you.
He tosses you a roll of bandages. “You up for a spar?” His voice is quiet. Your resolve breaks.
You grab the bandages and swiftly wrap your hands. He stays watching you the whole time. You wonder wether his gaze is damning or merely analytical.
When you’re done you move to the training mats. Getting into position is reflex by now, readying your stance and falling into a weird stand-off, both waiting for the other to swing first. You keep your eyes fixed to a spot above his shoulder.
You attack first, lunging at him and throwing a right hook, meanwhile trying to kick his feet off of him.
Dick swiftly avoids your punch, sidestepping it and catching your entire arm in his grip. He uses that to leverage your body over his shoulder, rendering useless your attempt at getting him off-balance.
You recover in mid-air, landing in a roll and getting back up while he’s still in the process of turning toward you, and manage to land a punch to his stomach.
He sputters but manages to step aside in time to avoid your other arm coming to enclose on his waist, and your momentum makes you loose your balance.
You go for another roll, but before you can do more than turn on your back you find yourself locked into a full-body pin.
Dick’s almost laying on top of you, his knees on either side of your hips, his chest pressing on yours so his bodyweight weighs you down too much to get up.
His forearms are laying on either side of your head, though. You could easily slide your arms out from where he’s got them pinned against your sides and make him loose his balance, if you wanted.
Trapped like this, though, your face inches from his, you have no choice but to stare right into his eyes.
What you find there stops you from fighting.
His expression his open, his brows slightly furrowed. In those oceans he’s got for irises swims something you aren’t sure you know the name of, but it doesn’t burn you and you aren’t sure you like that. Aren’t sure you want the unfamiliarity of it to keep festering.
Dick Grayson reads people like one does library handouts, laid bare with all their weathered discolouration and all their folded corners for whoever comes across to see. You are no exception.
So why, just why in the hell doesn’t his gaze burn? Why doesn’t it scorch you with the familiar flames of hatred, resentment and anger?
You want to turn away. You do, really. Aren’t sure you can keep looking into those mariana-trench deep wells of something you can’t name without drowning. You steel yourself, though. You have a feeling that looking away would be too much like a condemned man flipping the switch of the electric chair himself. You’re gonna leave that job to him.
“You know I hate it when there’s something wrong but you won’t tell me about it.”
His voice is soft. It doesn’t burn. That damned something permeates it, as well.
“You already know everything you need to. What’s the point in making a bigger fool of myself?”
The shame stings your cheeks. The way the something remains plastered on his face unperturbed instead of giving way to something fiery soothes it. The lack of condemnation rips the confession from your lips.
“I’m sorry.”
The admission. You’re right, it says. Everything you read in that torn-up book of my soul is true. Add another tear to it’s pages. Rip it to shreds.
How could you? How could you have, even second-handedly, doubted his loyalty? How could you have been so self-absorbed and childishly jealous, when that forsaken something embeds itself into every fibre of his being? While it washes over you to soothe every burn and extinguish every flame you yourself caused?
Dick’s expression changes. It morphs. The something is joined by something else now, not unlike a breeze parting clouds previously hanging in a greyed sky.
“It’s okay. I just wish we’d work together when there’s something bothering one of us.”
It’s okay. Absolution.
You think the sky would’ve parted. You think you should be hearing trumpets right now.
You are reminded, then, that there is a whole world outside of this cave. That who you have in front of you is just a man, and that the universe is filled with something bigger than yourselves.
But even with this knowledge at the forefront of your mind, here, with Dick’s forearms resting on either side of your head, your entire universe boils down to him. To his almost-creaseless brow. To his something-filled irises.
And in this moment of clarity you realise that right now, with all your little hurts bare to see, his entire universe boils down to you.
“Yeah. Let’s.”
You wish you had more to say. You wish your brain could come up with something more substantial.
You hope the something shining in your eyes is enough.
It feels a lot like love.
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A/n: I hope you enjoyed!! I absolutely loved writing this, it was so fun and I just love angst hehe If you like my work, please consider reblogging and checking out my other works through the master list in my pinned post<3
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mynameismckenziemae · 4 months ago
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Can we talk about fogging up the windows with Bradley?
We can! I think it’d go something like this…
(smut below the cut ✂️ )
“We…” Bradley trails off as you kiss over the scar on his jaw and down his neck, “we should-uh…probably go inside.”
“We should,” you agree before sucking a bruise under his collar, “they’re all waiting for us.”
“Fuck it,” he sighs, pushing the drivers seat back as far as it goes before pulling you onto his lap, “what’s 5 more minutes?”
You hum in agreement before capturing his lips again.
His big, calloused hands slide up your thighs and under your sundress and pause on your ass, “Where are your underwear?” His eyes darken when he pulls away to ask.
“Must’ve forgotten them at home,” you smile and nip his bottom lip.
“Forgot, huh?” He chuckles darkly, making you shiver as he squeezes the globes of your bare ass before sliding a hand around to cup you, “wet for me already?”
You nod and your eyes fall shut as he drags his fingers through it. He glides them over your clit then back down to push two thick fingers inside you, curling them while his thumb rubs over your clit.
He surges forward to swallowyour sounds of pleasure, his hips buck up in search of friction as he quickly works you towards release.
One of your hands weaves into his hair to tug while the other grips his shoulder as you cum with a soft cry, muffled by his kisses.
“So beautiful when you cum,” he murmurs as you open your eyes. “Open,” he taps your lips with his wet fingers.
You grind against his hard on and whimper as you suck greedily, wishing it was his cock instead.
“Let me suck you off,” you say breathlessly once you release his fingers from your mouth, “please Roo?”
He nods, pulling you in for another kiss but a knock on the window makes you both jump.
The windows are thankfully completed fogged over but Jake’s voice filters through.
“Seriously guys? Again?”
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almondcroissantsandink · 2 months ago
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Hiiii, idk if you take requests ??? Uhhhh I just LOVE your top gun art and I wondered if you could draw some Bobnix (platonic or romantic idc it's to your liking) thanks if you do and you have a hello from France !!! 🩷
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@noramfrd HECK yeah I'll draw them!! <3 <3 <3 How could I say no to such a kind request?? The dream team  ☆ ☆ ☆ :)
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yeagrave · 7 months ago
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Hey! So for your art block reqs. I have this idea of Bradley and Phoenix at the gym and they're working out, weight lifting or whatever, while hangman and Bob/coyote (pick your poison) live slug react but in a horny way yk? Hope that made sense lol
Ps love your art 💚
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Phoenix loves to torture them
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vivalas-vega · 1 year ago
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Can I request a fic with Jake? I was thinking about something where he stands up for the reader when they come over to a family dinner or something like that and her relatives all just keep criticizing her and being mean and she is used to it but Jake won't stand for it and defends her?
Thank you so much either way, I love your fanfics!!!
hi nonnie!!! thank you so much for your sweet words - I hope you like it! and thank you so much to @natrace for beta reading this for me!!
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You smoothed your dress over for the dozenth time since parking the car as you waited for the exact right moment to enter the restaurant, swaying uncomfortably from side to side at the way the fabric clung to your calves. “If I smoke really quickly do you think they’ll smell it on me?” you asked Jake who was standing next to you and looking like you’d grown an extra head with how neurotic you’d been acting all day.
“You smoke?” he asked incredulously, and you smiled sheepishly.
“Sometimes, under duress,” you replied, fishing in your purse. 
“You are not under duress, it’s just your family,” he said, grabbing your hands.
“Uranium mission was less stressful than this,” you muttered and he just laughed, tugging you along to walk inside. You were led back to a semi-private area where your mother and father sat who greeted the two of you with tight smiles and one-shouldered hugs.
“It’s nice to see you,” you said, smiling at Jake who pulled your seat out for you. 
“Lieutenants,” your father said, taking a sip of his scotch. “Lucky we were able to catch you while we’re in town.”
“Yes sir, very lucky,” you agreed, reaching for the glass of water on the table. 
“I hear you’ve been doing good out there at Top Gun,” he said to Jake, “how’s Maverick been treating you?”
“Maverick has been great, sir, it’s been an honor teaching alongside him.” he answered and you took a deep breath, dreading the moment he turned his attention to you. 
“It’s nice you’re also back at Top Gun, I was surprised they’d recalled you for that mission at all,” he said and you bit your lip. “Do you feel like you’re learning anything new?”
“Well, there’s always something new to learn, dad, but I am an instructor as well,” you pointed out and he just nodded halfheartedly. 
“That’s a lovely dress, dear,” your mom interjected, trying to grab your attention.
“Oh uh, thank you… I think you got it for me a few years ago, haven’t really had time to do any shopping recently,” you said and she nodded.
“I can pick up a few more things for you when we arrive home and ship them out if you’d like,” she offered and you smiled.
“That’s okay, mom, you don’t have to do that,” really you hoped she wouldn’t.
“It’s no trouble,” she said and you gave a bright smile to the waitress who came to take your drink orders and you watched as your mom was pleased with you not ordering a cocktail and instead ordering a sparkling water. 
“I’ll be right back, need to powder my nose,” you said, not entirely sure what you even meant by that but you hurried down the hallway and flagged down your waitress. “Can I ask you to do me the biggest favor?” you asked and she smiled knowingly.
“Vodka or tequila?” she said and you flushed, “not the first tense family dinner I’ve served.”
“Tequila, you are an angel… thank you so much, you can just slip me a separate tab for the drinks,” you said before heading back to the table where your father was continuing to fawn over Jake. You didn’t mind, not at all… Jake was a great pilot and though his ego rarely ever fit through the door, he did deserve to be told how great he was but you did hope that every once in a while he would acknowledge you as well, but tonight did not seem to be that night.
“You should be spending more time in the air with Jake, you’re lucky to have him on your squad, there’s a lot he can teach you,” he said and you bit your lip as you looked at Jake.
“Well, sir, I actually feel like I learn more from her than she ever could from me,” he said and you smiled softly but you knew your dad wouldn’t accept it.
“She’s unfocused, you being here tonight proves just that… Top Gun isn’t a matchmaking academy but she turned it into one nonetheless.” 
“Well, either way it’s lovely you two found each other,” your mother said, “honey, have you given any more thought to taking a more permanent teaching position?”
“I wasn’t aware that was something I was thinking about,” you replied.
“Oh, I just assumed with the two of you getting together you were finally starting to think about settling down and starting a family,” she shrugged, as if that was the most nonchalant thing ever and Jake reassuringly rubbed your knee under the table.
“That’s not really our priority right now,” you said. 
“Maybe it should be,” your father said gruffly, “being a pilot doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.” Jake went to respond but you just knocked your knee against his and softly shook your head. 
“Besides… I’m sure it’s crossed Jake’s mind once or twice, are you sure you’d be able to withstand the demands of being a wife and mother while being in the Navy?” your mom added and you choked on your drink.
“Excuse me?” you asked, looking at her wide eyed.
“Mind your manners,” she whispered, “I just mean that you’re not getting any younger, dear, and Jake is a good man with a very promising Navy career ahead of him… you’d be smart to start thinking about this now before you lose him,” she finished.
“I haven’t actually,” Jake interjected and you all turned to look at him, “thought about starting a family. We’re not quite there yet, but the two of us will talk about it when the time comes,” he said. “I’m not interested in making her a wife until she’s ready.” 
“You should do it soon, promotions are going to start coming your way Lieutenant, wait too long and you won’t have the time.” your dad said and you suddenly felt like cattle being sold for auction. “And while she has the opportunity to leave the Navy gracefully.” 
“I’d be willing to wager she gets promoted before I do, sir,” Jake said and your dad just shook his head.
“It’s a good thing you’re a better pilot than you are a betting man, son.” 
“If you take a step back from active duty it will give you more time to plan the wedding too, dear… we could have it back home at the country club,” your mom said and you scoffed.
“Are you two even listening to us?” 
“Watch your tone,” your father said and you shook your head in disbelief. “You’re lucky this is all this conversation is with how you’ve tarnished our family name.” 
“Okay, that is enough,” Jake said suddenly, losing his grip on his patience. “You should know that your daughter is better than anyone in our squad and we all know it, we’re all competing for second best because none of us have a shot in hell at taking first with her around.”
“You might want to watch yourself, son,” your father warned.
“I’m not your son. And when your daughter feels ready for me to propose you can bet your ass I’ll do so at the first chance I get, but not a moment sooner because she is not just a potential wife or potential mother to my children for me… she is my partner and should we make any decisions about our future we will be sure to let you know… otherwise, sweetheart, I actually think we double booked ourselves.” he said, standing up and tugging you with him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” your mom asked, looking up at you in shock.
“Right now? Oh, right now I’m going to go get drunk with my friends, thank you for a lovely evening,” you said, tossing your napkin onto the table and walking out of the restaurant with Jake. “Hard Deck is only a five minute walk from here?” you suggested and he nodded, laughing as you took your heels off and let them dangle from your fingers. “Thank you for doing that, standing up to them was incredibly hot of you,” you said.
“Wasn’t going to let them talk about you like that, your dad is insane for not being proud of you… I know I am,” he said, looping his arm around your waist as you walked along the beach towards the bar. 
“I love you, you know that?” you asked and he just nodded, leading you through the front door of the Hard Deck and flipping off your friends as they whistled at your appearances. “Hey Pen, I’m going to need a lot of tequila,” you said, graciously accepting the two shot glasses she set before you. 
“To us and our country club wedding and lots and lots of babies,” he joked, clinking your glasses together as you laughed and downed the shot.
“Wait, what? What babies?” Rooster asked as he approached and you just shook your head as you ordered another round. 
“Come on, I wanna kick your ass at pool,” you said, dragging Jake behind you and giggling as he spun you around and enveloped you in a kiss. 
“I really am so proud of you, you know…” he said and you nodded, leaning up to kiss him again. 
“I know, and I love you so much.”
“I love you too…”
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enthyrea · 2 years ago
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hangster kiss pls
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they r smooching!!!!
i refuse to draw bradley in anything other than that hawaiian shirt🐛
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doodledraw · 14 days ago
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for art prompts: bobnix!!!!!! maybe on a first date!!!
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Hi storm!! I’m stealing one of the prompts from your other ask for this one so that I can get to both :)) anyway milkshake date they’re so cute I love them!!
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callsign-daydream · 4 months ago
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Maverick: Do I think that I’m doing the absolute best that I can as Rooster’s father figure? Yes. Do I also lie awake at night and wonder if I should start a therapy fund for him just in case? Also yes.
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dckweed · 1 year ago
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➺ MASTERLIST
below you'll find a master list of my collective series of works on tumblr. currently, i'm only adding those that are specifically a series because those are the most that i get messages about and i have alot of singular posts and it would be too time consuming currently to go through and add them!
⤷ TOP GUN: MAVERICK (open for requests)
⤿ Jake 'hangman' Seresin
Sugar Sweet: one, two, three,
Babygirl: one, two, three, four, five, six, seve, eight, (this series is also open for request!)
⤿ Bradley 'rooster' Bradshaw
⤿ Robert 'bob' Floyd
THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND: part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six,
⤿ Pete 'maverick' Mitchell
⤷ STRANGER THINGS (currently closed for requests while i catch up)
⤿ Steve Harrington
love grows: one, two
⤿ Billy Hargrove
I feel so stupid: one, two, three
Not parent friendly: one, two, three, four
⤷ FARGO
⤿ Gator Tillman
THE NEXT THING YOU KNOW: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen,
TNTYK BLURBS: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
⤷ STAR WARS
⤿ General Hux
what was i made for?: taglist, one, two, three, four, five, six
⤷ BRIDGERTON
⤿ Benedict Bridgerton
tormented tragedy: taglist, one, two, three, four
⤷ THE VAMPIRE DIARIES & THE ORIGINALS (open for requests)
⤿ Elijah Mikaelson
Devilish Delights: one, two
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k9effect · 3 months ago
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Could you do a Mavdad and IcePop doodle for an aching soul? Please and thank you! P.S. Just realized this is my first time trying this feature out.
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Happiest family ever <3
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101maverick · 6 months ago
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hey i saw your requests are open and i was wondering if maybe you could write smth hurt/comfort with jason please? like they had a big fight and then they make up after something happens🙌🏻
A/n: okok srry if it took me a few days but school and other projects are kicking my butt, hope you enjoy!! I decided to use your request to study Jason from a more ak! Point of view if that makes sense? I haven’t consumed the media but i’ve read some really beautiful works with him and hope it makes him justice :)
Word count: 1206 words
Execution At Sundown
Jason was at your place, sitting on the side of the couch with your tv remote by his side, cup of soda in his hand.
He still hadn’t shown you his face even after months of dating, and even though it stung you understood that it was a huge show of trust on his part, so if he was content sipping his soda from a straw that went under his mask you wouldn’t say anything about it and keep your feelings to yourself.
Everything had been going fine, you had just been hanging out while watching a movie.
It all hit the fan when you decided to go get another soda, rising up from the couch and padding down the hallway to the kitchen to fetch the drink.
After retrieving your drink you made your way back, and as the couch came into view you saw that Jason was now engrossed with something on his phone.
You didn’t think too much about it, just eyed the now empty soda resting in his left hand. On a whim, you walked up to his side of the couch and leaned over, going to grab his empty cup to replenish it.
Before you could do much more than make contact with the clothed skin of Jason’s shoulder though you found yourself being slammed back, loosing your balance and falling on your behind.
——————————
Jason reacted out of instinct.
One second he was relatively relaxed on his girlfriend’s couch, looking at a map of his territory for anything suspicious that might be going on, and the next there was a pressure on his shoulder, somebody leaning in and- “Why don’t you scream a bit for me, Todd?” and then there was pain-
He grabbed the body pressing in on him and pushed, slamming his attacker back and watching, half-standing and with his torso turned in a way that pulled at the knotted skin marring every inch of him, and even if the assailant was on the ground they still hurt him, that damned clown still dug his claws in and he always screamed but nobody heard him and-
Oh. It’s you.
It’s you, who had wormed his way into his heart in a matter of months.
It’s you, who had caressed the mangled skin of his hands and said “That’s okay” in response to the proof of him having been broken and put together crooked and wrong. As if it really was.
It’s you, legs sprawled on the floor with a bewildered expression on your face, wide eyes staring up at him in shock.
Jason stares back at you, his own features turned to stone under the mask as he feels his throat close up.
He had hurt you. He had thrown you to the ground. Guess the apple never falls far from the tree then, uh? Guess he was just like Willis after all, smacking around anyone without the ability to control his feelings. A rabid animal.
An animal. A pet. That’s what the Joker used to call him. What the Joker still calls him every day, in his wretched mind. A mindless thing, twisted and contorted to be ready to bend at his master’s will, and the fact he didn’t have one here anymore didn’t mean he was suddenly upgraded to ‘human’, did it? He was still incapable of controlling himself, succumbing to the rage just like Willis had to the bottle. Not even capable of recognising his girlfriend the only person who had accepted his crooked form and chipped edges, throwing her around simply because even gentle and casual touches were ruined for him by that forsaken clown-
“Jace?”
The world comes back into focus, his eyes zero in on the spot of the wall he had been staring at in his haze and then shift down to you, now seated more comfortably on the ground. You haven’t moved, you haven’t come closer to him.
You’re scared of him.
Jason feels his throat constrict, and he punches the words out around the lump forming in his throat. “I- I didn’t- you were- sorry- I-”
Gosh he’s such a mess, can’t even explain to you how pathetic he is, how he still lets a fucking clown torture him with his mere shadow, and now you will realise the honeyed touches are not made for him, not anymore, maybe they never were, or else someone would’ve come-
Now you will realise that all those jagged edges are places you could cut yourself on. Now you will realise a rabid dog like him just needs to be put down for good.
He stutters out a last sentence for you, spits it out on your clean parquet, and even that feels too much like dirtying your sanctuary for his liking. “I- sorry, I’ll- I’ll go-” and he’s not even finishing his sentence before he’s stalking towards your apartment’s door, steps as sure as he can make them as he walks away from the only hands who had held him oh so gently, only like Catherine ever had, his mom, and he wills his legs to keep moving or else he won’t make it out of here for good-
“Don’t leave, please.”
Your voice is quiet, quiet as it breaks his heart and his resolve.
Because Jason has never been strong, and the little crack he can hear coming from his heart hurts but so does the knowledge he’s too weak to keep going the last few steps to your door, the few steps that’ll lead him back to how it was before and you back to a life of safety, free of the burden that is Jason Todd.
He turns around. You’re leaning in the doorway to the living room, staring at him on the other side of the hallway.
Your stance is relaxed. You aren’t holding yourself like you’re hurt. Your eyes are wide, and sad, but they’re not wary.
With his attention on you, you speak again. Your voice is soft, and now also kinda trembly. “I know I don’t know even the start of the story, but I know you have one and it’s the reason things like this sometimes happen.” Your eyes stare into the white lenses of the mask, desperately searching for his gaze under it. “I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because it isn’t.”
There it is. The proof he fucked it up, like is his design.
“It’s not okay,” you continue, startling him. He was getting lost again. He waits for the axe. “because something or someone hurt you, and you still suffer from it.”
He looks at you. Jason looks in your eyes, and gets the feeling you know he’s returning your gaze.
“I want to help you, Jace. Any way I can. Any way you let me. Because I know that when things aren’t okay, sometimes all you need is someone there with you to help you make it so.”
Your voice was sure through it all, but now it falters a bit. “So, so if you want, I could be by your side. If that’s how you’ll let me help. So, so don’t leave.”
His eyes don’t wander away from you.
And as he gazes into your eyes, glinting with the light from the tv bathing your side in neons, he knows that he never could.
The axe doesn’t fall.
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mynameismckenziemae · 4 months ago
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Girl you can’t bring up fogging up the windows with Jake and Bradley and not give it to us????
I can and I will…give it to you that is.
(smut below the cut ✂️)
Disclaimer: it’s not edited.
“Seriously guys? Again?”
“Please?” You ask Bradley, watching his eyes darken before he nods, and you grin as you lean back to roll down the window.
Jake’s eyes take in your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair before dropping to your breasts, heaving against the fabric.
“Jealous?” You ask, glancing at the bar before leaning out the window.
“A little,” he admits, stealing a kiss after making sure the coast is clear. You fist his shirt when he tries to pull back, keeping him where you want him as you deepen the kiss.
Bradley’s hand grips his chin, breaking the kiss when he turns Jake toward him.
“Get in,” Bradley whispers, voice rough as he brushes his lips over Jake’s before releasing him.
“Yes sir,” Jake teases, but his shaky inhale as he steps back gives him away. Bradley’s cock twitches in interest under you before you dismount from his lap to the middle of the bench seat.
“Move over there,” Jake tilts his chin toward the corner of the lot as he gets in the passenger seat, “on the other side of that truck; can’t see past it.”
As Bradley moves the Bronco, Jake pulls out his phone to type a quick message to Nat, buying you more time. His thumb pauses on the keyboard with a sigh as you kiss his neck.
“Now,” Bradley says as he kills the engine again, his hand trailing up your arm to your hair, “where were we before we were so rudely interrupted? Something about sucking me off?”
“Mmm,” you hum against Jake’s skin, smiling at the way he shivers, “in a minute.”
“No,” Bradley growls, pulling you off Jake’s neck by your hair, making you gasp, “he can wait his turn.”
While Bradley pulls himself out of those tight-as-son jeans, you manage to get turned around, kneeling in the middle floor after only banging your knees on the dash a few times.
You kitten lick the precum beading on his tip before swallowing him down, knowing you don’t have time to tease.
“Fuck,” Bradley grunts, thrusting up into your mouth and making you gag, “take it, I know you can.”
You hum, nodding once.
“Atta girl,” Jake praises, palming himself over his jeans as he watches you take Bradley all the way to the base, “so good.”
“So so good,” Bradley agrees breathlessly, his head falling back as you pull back just to do it again, building into a steady rhythm.
“Touch him,” you tell Bradley, voice raspy when you pull off. Your right hand begins to stroke him while your left sneaks under your dress where you’re again wet and needy, “but don’t let him cum. I wanna taste both of you.”
They groan in unison and you smile as you get back to work, bobbing your head in a quick, unrelenting rhythm.
Jake pulls himself out and you moan, clenching around your fingers when you hear Bradley spit in his hand; then a moment later, Jake’s sigh.
“Slow down, Bradshaw,” Jake chokes not long after, letting you know Bradley’s close.
“She-shit, honey,” Bradley gasps when you tighten the ring of your lips, “she said not to cum. Don’t disappoint her now.”
“Slow down then,” Jake retorts, “ah-fuck!” He slaps Bradley’s hand away to grip his own base as Bradley cums with a low groan.
“Not-not all of it,” he pants out, sounding absolutely wrecked, “save some for Jake.”
You whimper around his twitching cock, swallowing all but a taste as you were told. Jake leans in, meeting your lips halfway; the rumble that leaves his throat at the taste of Bradley’s release has you on the knife’s edge of your own.
You nip his lower lip as you pull away, giving him a small smile before ducking your head.
“Your fucking mouth,” Jake groans as you swallow him to the hilt, your throat already relaxed from Bradley.
Bradley pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail before guiding you up and down.
The lewd noises from your mouth harmonize with the wet sounds between your legs as you work yourself in the same rhythm.
“Fuck!” Jake cries, cumming in your mouth as you cum on your fingers with a whimper.
Not wanting him to feel left out, you sit up and beckon Bradley close with a crook your finger, treating him with Jake’s taste as your tongue tangles with his.
“Are you guys decent?” Nat’s voice startles you apart. Jake looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Come on, I know you guys are in there, the windows are all fogged up.”
“Uh, just a second,” Bradley says as he tries to tuck himself back into his jeans. Jake does the same while you attempt to right your dress
“Hurry up,” she sighs, “Jake went to look for you guys 20 minutes ago and now isn’t answering his phone.”
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almondcroissantsandink · 3 months ago
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if you’re still taking art prompts, maybe rooster and hangman on the beach, or a hangster hug? no worries at all if you’re not taking prompts anymore (or are not inspired by these)! ☺️
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kind of both?? (a one-armed hug lol)
they've been muttering plots to win the local sandcastle building contest and everyone else has actually built their sandcastles already and gone to relax at the hard deck
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bobfloydsbabe · 19 days ago
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Helena! I'm so excited for blurb night! And because you predicted correctly, I'm gonna lead with a request for historical EPB x Immy + "my soul just wants to be closer to yours." I'm imagining it in my mind's eye and I'm yearning, I swear. 🥰
Hope this helps flex your writing muscles!
Rebecca, this prompt is so damn good for these two. Not only are we yearning in this, but we are also in pain because Victorian Era society is so restrictive. I hate this for our favorite lady and her beloved professor. Enjoy!
BLURB NIGHT MASTERLIST
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The scent of roses hits her nostrils as a night breeze blows through the garden and she hugs herself tighter, trying to stay warm. Her toes grow cold as the dew-covered grass wet her thin slippers, but she ignores for the sake of fresh air and her sanity. Anything to get out of that stifling house and her looming engagement.
When her father told her the duke had asked for her hand, she’d excused herself and wept in her room for nearly an hour. She should have been thrilled, excited even. But she’s not. The duke is not and never will be him.
“Lady Imogen.” She knows that voice, deep and gravely, sending a chill down her spine that has nothing to do with the chilly August night.
Imogen peers left and finds the Professor Floyd standing a few short paces away, keeping a respectful distance lest someone should see them and gossip. “Professor,” she greets with a tight smile. She’s still an Earl’s daughter. Soon, she will be a duchess.
“Are you alright, my lady?”
She hates the formality. Hates that this is all they can ever be, bound to dance around each other. The wall of society stands between them, but the fondness she sees in his eyes and the aching affection in hers is not enough. They can never be together.
“No,” she whispers and turns toward him, the hem of her dressing gown collecting dew from the grass. “No, I am not.” Her voice is stronger, more self-assured this time.
“My lady.” His voice is so gentle she hardly hears him. In a few long strides, he’s standing in front of her with his mussed hair from trying and failing to fall asleep. She longs to reach up and brush the stray curl away from his forehead.
Instead, she squares her shoulders and remembers the lessons her governess taught her as a child. “Leave me be, Professor,” she mutters. She can’t look him in the eyes knowing this will break both their hearts because he may not have uttered the words, but they both know them to be true.
“I can’t.” His ungloved hands cup her cold cheeks and she leans into his soft touch, savoring the moment of his skin on hers.
Raising her own hands, they cover his and remove them. “You must,” she pleads.
She tries to let him go, but he keeps hold of her hands. “I can’t,” he repeats, words more forceful than before. “I can’t, Imogen,” he insists. “My soul just wants to be closer to yours. I don’t think I could stop it even if I wanted to.”
Tears prickle behind her eyes. “Robert, please.” She longs to give in, to get lost in him and the firm grip he still has on her hands. But she can’t, so she pulls away from his warm touch and steps out of his embrace. Her next words will haunt both of them.
“The duke asked for my hand.”
Time stops. They’re frozen, eyes locked. Two hearts breaking on a cold and clear night.
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i'll see myself out 🫡
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