#both in edward and f!edward versions

[biggsodorcitystories]

Edward and his boys!

Just so sweet!!!

oh home, let me come home, home is wherever I’m with you

[abrcmswrld]

NSFW Alphabet | TFE!Edward Nashton x Reader

Word Count: 1,979

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), seriously this whole thing is smut and that’s it, AFAB terms used

Summary: A collection of drabbles centered around sex with my version of Edward Nashton from my fic series: The French Exit.

Author’s Note: This is dedicated to the discord server. I’ve loved getting to know their Eddie’s. Thank you for giving my Eddie a chance.

HBD Pookie<3

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He's tender and clingy, keeping his arms wrapped around you for as long as he possibly can until you finally nudge him off to clean up. After that he's helpful, he loves taking the time to wipe you down. He'll take any excuse to touch your body, really.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He's never given it much thought for himself. He's always thought himself to be below average in most categories. Whether it's looks or strength, he's always felt himself fall short. But he can recognize that he excels in brains. He is quite proud of the mind he has.

When it comes to you however, he can't find a part that he doesn't like, but the feeling of your thighs is absolute heaven to him. He loves to sink his fingertips into the soft flesh as he laps his tongue over you or as he fucks into you slowly. He also loves to rest his head on them and feel your fingers trailing through his hair.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

He will cum anywhere you ask. By the time he reaches his climax, he’s putty in your hands. Any dominance he may have held is gone as his legs shake. You want him to cum on your stomach, back, face, inside you? He’ll do it. But if he’s being honest he prefers to finish inside of you. The sticky slickness as he continues to rut into you even after finishing is the perfect overstimulation.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's very voyeuristic. To an alarming extent. The view from your window is just perfect. He can feel the pressure in his pants the moment you begin to undress after a long day at the office. Of course, you know exactly what he's doing and you secretly get off on it too.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He has very little experience. Aside from a pity handjob in his early 20's, he's avoided most sexual interaction. He doesn't find it easy to go on dates. He has a decent idea of how things work as he has watched plenty of porn in his lifetime, but I wouldn't call him experienced.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His weak spot is missionary. He loves to hover over you with you caged in him arms. He enjoys taking it one step further and lifting your leg to his shoulder. It gives him the same pleasure of seeing your face with an added bit of pressure that gets both you and him to the edge faster than any other position.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

You’re the one person he can let a chuckle out with. He tries to embrace that side of himself in closed off spaces with just the two of you, such as the break room. But for some reason he can’t make it translate into the bedroom. He’s never been so intimate with someone before, it’s very serious to him. He’s too focused on the ecstasy of the moment and the feelings he has for you pouring out to goof off at all.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps himself trimmed decently. He tried to shave completely once, but ended up giving himself awful razor burn and cuts. He’s not been a fan since.

He doesn’t have a preference for his partner. He loves for them feel confident however they choose.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

As previously said, he’s never experienced such intimacy with anyone before. Never had someone touch him with such tenderness, like they want to heal all of his wounds, internal and external. He often finds himself crying during the act. It’s not a sadness response and it’s something he’s found he can’t quite control. He just wants you to know how much he loves you in that moment. He wants to be as close as two souls can possibly be.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s masturbates decently often. More often after developing a crush on you. Less often when the tension breaks between the two of you. He’d much rather feel your hand, mouth, heat, than his own hand.

Before you, his relationship with masturbation wasn’t great. Years of catholic guilt can do that to a person. He often fights the feeling of shame after his release. He struggles to enjoy the feeling of bliss while coming down. Watching you pleasure yourself for him, and the way you whimper and smile through it intrigues him, and he strives to be able to enjoy himself in a similar fashion.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Voyeurism: This is his big one. It’s questionable at times. He knows it’s sick, the way he watches you through your window, but he can’t help himself. It’s as if you left the curtain open as an invitation.

Even as your relationship progresses, he finds himself asking you if he can watch as you pleasure yourself. He loves to observe. He loves to take note of the things that make you whimper.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers the comfort of your home. It’s warm and safe and comfortable. Nothing else to bother the two of you. Although he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about bending you over his desk at the office. He finds himself getting hard in his pants as he thinks about it, looking over his shoulder at your concentrated face as you sit at your own desk. He pushes the thought away for his own good.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He’s ashamed to say that everything you do turns him on. He hides it out of fear of offending you or making you believe he only likes the sex, but it’s the little things that get him going. The way you bite your lip while you concentrate on work, the way you laugh at his jokes, the brush of your legs up against him, it all turns him on.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He’s not big on any form of weapon play. The idea using a weapon (even in a safe and monitored way) on you makes his stomach turn rather than turn him on. He doesn’t like to mix that side of him with your intimacy.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He definitely prefers to give rather than receive. Not that he doesn’t enjoy receiving, but he gets just as much pleasure from eating you out. He loves to bury his head between your thighs and rut against the mattress. Pull him in by his hair and he will cum in his pants.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

His pace depends on the mood he is in. Sometimes he enjoys a loving, slow pace. It allows him to slowly take you apart, piece by piece. But sometimes he loves to drive into you fast and rough. The sound of his skin slapping against yours spurs him on. He loves the way your eyes roll back as he abuses that spot inside you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Shockingly enough, Edward enjoys quickies. He likes to think of it as a miniature version of what you always do. If you’re pressed for time, if the two of you have work, he loves to get in one last fuck. He loves to cum inside of you and watch you leave for work right after.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

His entire life is a risk. The Riddler is a risk. He’d rather not bring you into that risk. He’s seen the way that porn frames scenarios of risky public sex to look enticing, but he just can’t bring himself to enjoy it with you. He’d never put you in a risky position on purpose. You’re the one pure thing in his life.

However, he is willing to experiment with kinks inside the comfort of your own home. He’s supportive when you ask and always tries his best to feed into your fantasies, even if it doesn’t always stick for you guys.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

His stamina is dependent on his mood at the moment. If you have him extremely riled up, he is ready to go multiple rounds with little to no recovery period. However, sometimes he loves a good lazy fuck and to just cuddle up to you afterwards in a hazy, tired bliss.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’d never owned toys before you. He’d thought about it, but never gotten the courage to try them for himself. He knows you own many though and he enjoys using them with you. His favorite is pressing your vibrator to your sensitive bud as he fucks you deep. He loves the way it makes you squirm under him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease and be teased. Although he does find it difficult to tease you for very long. He loves to hear you beg for him and the moment a soft ‘please’ escapes your lips he gives you everything you need.

He loves when you are unfair to him. He loves the playful look in your eyes as you gives him teasing kisses and licks all over his body.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He tries but is generally unsuccessful at holding in his cries and moans. They often come out as a choked off and whiney mess. He loves to hear your sweet noises. He nibbles at your weak spots until you cry out his name. It makes him smile into your flesh.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves to see you wear his clothes. He has to hide the erection growing in his pants when he does something as small as giving you his jacket to wear when you’re cold. It’s such a small action but the way his clothes practically swallow you makes his heart race.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Watching porn all those years hasn’t helped his self esteem. He finds himself feeling insecure about his size a lot. He’s about average length, but is decently thick. He loves it when you let him know how much he stretches you, and the way you clench around him as he drives into you. It’s the only thing that can ease his insecurities.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He is ready to go pretty much whenever. All it takes is the slightest touch of your hands down his chest and sides and those longing kisses, and he is ready. He finds that his sex drive is much higher since becoming intimate with you. It’s a new experience and he finds himself craving you often.

Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He has gone most of his life struggling with sleep. The orphanage had given him horrific night terrors and his sleep schedule has never been normal. But, after sex with you he feels a calm wash over him that he can't explain. For once he is peaceful and finds himself drifting to sleep rather quickly.

[selfishdoll]

FOUND OUT FT. VAMP! ARMIN ୨୧ ｡ ⟡ ⋆ ࣪. ໒

armin arlert, your good friend of two years and hard crush of one. you decided to become his roommate just three months ago and all has been well. except for the fact, a ludicrous idea has entered your mind. one so silly, you didn’t even want to believe it. what was it exactly? well.. that armin, was a vampire. this wasn’t some fantasy or fairy tale.. you weren’t bella and he wasn’t edward. there was no way, no way in hell armin was a vampire.. right?

❛content warning(s)...❜ ━━ period sex. i repeat, PERIOD SEX. if you don’t like that, leave! | oral sex (f. receiving) | soft & service top! armin | he’s a little condescending, however | pet names (sweetheart, pretty, princess, etc) | praise | blood (ofc) | biting & marking | armin talks reader through it | multiple orgasms | armin loves eye contact | ooc armin | inspired by true blood (also mentioned in the fic) | lowkey gaslighting (maybe? he’s not doing it to harm, he’s just tryna keep his identity hidden) | a bit of manhandling | reader wears pads & has really bad cramps. again if that’s an issue for you, don’t read it. | etc. if i forgot something please let me know.

❛author’s note...❜ ━━ please bare in mind i haven’t touched aot for a long time & only posting this fic for my reawakened obsession with the anime & manga. that said, if you think armin is ooc, i’m sorry— but again, i warned you (plus i’m not the creator). if you enjoy this, please give me more characters to make vamp versions of. of jjk or aot. and as always, please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos <3 (4680 WORDS)

It was common to question reality. To ponder about situations that were outside the norm. What if a zombie apocalypse happened? What if aliens were real? And finally, what if your good friend— turned roommate, was a vampire?

You felt silly as the thought, the pondering consumed you within the first week of living together. You really had no reason to believe Armin Arlert; a sweet young man with a heart of gold was some bloodsucking beast. Or rather, you didn’t want to believe it. Such information would drastically change the trajectory of the relationship you had with him.

The pipeline from friends — secret one sided pining — to prey wasn’t one you wished to follow.

Yet, all signs pointed to the answer; all signs pointed to Armin being a vampire.

For one, you’ve never seen him eat. Ever. Each time you offered some of your food, Armin would give you a gentle smile— while refusing. I already ate. Was the signature line he delivered, no matter the time of day. But, that wasn’t too concrete; he worked at home and you worked in a clinic— there was a possibility he was telling the truth.

The second piece of evidence may have been the key. The man would stock up his side of the fridge with this.. juice. Red liquid within clear bottles, the print labeled in a language you couldn’t understand. No matter how much you searched online, you simply couldn’t find it. So, you did the unthinkable.

You popped open a bottle, taking a swig. You expected a disturbing metallic taste; one that would cause you to spill the contents of your stomach. Instead a sweet fruity flavor tickled your tastebuds, causing your eyes to widen and quickly pull back from the bottle.

In time to see Armin entering the kitchen, flashing you a smile.

“I was wondering when you’d try them. I bought so many.” He spoke sweetly, informing you it was some random juice he bought whilst on a business trip.

With both his words and the concrete evidence, you believed him.

But there were so, so many more instances where you wondering if you were grasping at straws. His refusal to enter a home without access? Well, Armin was always polite. The way he avoided you whenever you got hurt? He did inform you blood makes him queasy. Or how each time you got your period the man just suddenly had a business trip? Armin did state his work schedule was weird.

It frustrated you to no end. You hated yourself for developing the thought in the first place. You already fucked falling for him a year ago, and now you just had to come up with the most ludicrous idea.

Armin Arlert, a vampire? Please..

The breath that escaped you was ragged, eyes pinched close and leaning your head against the steering wheel. The way a cramp could ruin your mood in a matter of seconds was beyond you. Truly, it was.

You were glued to your seat unable to move due to the pain within your stomach. Which could only be described as millions of knives being rammed directly into your uterus. A dramatic metaphor, but a fitting one.

A groan escaped you as you lifted from your curled position, the back of your head pressed against the seat. The pills you consumed just ten minutes ago had obviously not taken effect yet, leaving you unable to fight against the pain. You tried, you really did try to make it to work despite the aches— but you couldn’t. You pulled over into the nearest store parking lot just to make a quick call to your supervisor.

Thankfully, she was very understanding; even gently scolding you for attempting to work in the first place. The interaction caused you to smile, thanking her profusely and promising to make up the hours.

Now, all you had to do was get home. Though, as your eyes opened from its previous pained scrunch, you focused on the store in-front of you. A soft hum escaped you as turned the engine of your car off. A quick run to get some much deserved snacks was fine, right?

You opened the car door and exited, locking it behind you with a hand pressed against your stomach. It was comical attempting to massage the cramps, but the warmth of your hand was elevating the pain— slightly. Not much.

You approached the store doors and entered, flashing a smile to a worker that greeted you. You turned down an aisle whilst looking over the selection of snacks, kneeling to take in the rest of the shelf. While thinking over what you wanted, an idea popped into your mind.

Armin was always so doting and sweet whenever he went out to the store; always asking if you needed something. You wanted to do the same.

So without a second thought you grabbed your phone from your purse, clicking his contact and placing the receiver to your ear. The ringer went off two times before the man picked up, his usual tone entering your ears;

“Hey (Y/N)— are you okay? You don’t usually call me during work.”

You smiled, standing from your kneeled position. “I’m okay!.. well, not really. Cramps are kicking my ass right now,” You hummed, walking down the end of the shelf.

A silence entered the call for a moment before Armin spoke again. “You mean.. menstrual cramps?”

“Yeah!— sorry if that was too much to share.. Anyway, I’m at the store right now do you need anything?”

Armin cleared his throat a bit, the faint sound of something entering the call— but leaving quickly. “N—no. No, I’m fine. Thank you for asking, (Y/N).”

With chaste goodbyes you ended the call, placing your phone back into your purse. You finally decided on some gummies and chocolate, heading over to the register with a little pep in your step.

Pigging out on the couch seemed like the perfect day.

You left the store quickly after paying, entering your car even quicker and reaching your shared home in record time. Opening the door, you sighed as you placed your keys onto a table nearby; purse following. You walked towards the back of the house, glancing over at Armin’s closed bedroom door. With a small smile you walked up, pressing your knuckles against the maroon colored wood.

A minute passed before the door was opened, revealing his form. His eyes bored into your own, flashing the same gentle smile he always did. “(Y/N).. you should be resting.”

You smiled back at him, “Just wanted to check on you before I lay on the couch for the rest of the day.”

The man blinked as your words set in, watching you turn to enter your bedroom. Hesitantly, he followed, standing in the doorway. “On the couch?”

“Yeah! Don’t worry I’ll have a towel under me.”

“I wasn’t worried about that..” Was the faint mumble that escaped the blonde, words you didn’t hear. A soft sigh escaped him, however, blinking to glance at you. “Hope you feel better.” Armin said more clearly, turning to walk into his room after you gave soft gratitude.

You grabbed some pink bebe shorts and a random black tshirt, walking over to the bathroom with a pad in tow. After doing your business and changing, you entered your bedroom again to place your work clothes away— grabbing a clean towel shortly after.

You exited to enter the living room, smiling at the couch waiting for you. Walking over, you stretched the towel out along the cushions, pulling the coffee table closer for convenience. After grabbing your snacks and a water bottle, a stiff sigh escaped you as you laid across the couch. The towel was a bit uncomfortable if you moved, but you rather that then possibly leaking through the pad you wore.

Your hand reached for the remote beside you, turning the channel to a tv show you’ve currently been obsessed with; True Blood. A small chuckle escaped you as your cheek sunk into the pillow under you, placing the remote down. Maybe you were watching it too much, maybe that’s why you thought Armin was some blood sucking beast.

But, there was no way. You were literally on your period and he was.. well— normal. As normal as Armin Arlert was anyway.

You turned to open the pack of gummies, taking a bit in your hand before sinking back into the cushions. Your eyes remained glued to the screen as you popped one into your mouth, oblivious to the hard stare you were receiving.

An hour and a half passed with your continued watching, getting up in between to use the restroom. Your snacks were long gone, water bottle empty, and pill; worn off. You had zero energy to get up and grab some more, especially since you just found the perfect spot to help your cramps.

You hissed softly, moving to press your face deeper into the cushion. You’ve had a period for twenty-two years now, yet it always felt as if you were experiencing it for the first time. It was annoying, truly annoying. With a subtle groan your eyes blinked open, racking your mind for a moment before an idea peaked within you.

“Armin!” You called out from the living room while turning to lay on your back, hand strewn across your lower stomach. Moments passed before his bedroom door opened, footsteps entering the living room and revealing your roommate. Who looked a little tired. Strange, you’ve never seen him in such a way.

But, instead of inquiring you gave a little smile; “Could you grab my pills from my bedroom, and a water bottle?”

Armin’s eyes carried down your form for a moment, mouth opening before closing. Instead, he simply nodded; turning to head to your bedroom.

Maybe periods really did make him uncomfortable. You’ve never seen Armin so fidgety and nervous, as if scared to speak. It would concern you more if another cramp didn’t pierce you, causing a soft groan to slip past your lips. You heard Armin move from your bedroom to the kitchen, opening the fridge and closing it after.

You looked up at the man, watching him stand a few feet away; placing the items you requested down on the table. You sat up with a sweet smile, swinging your legs over the couch. “Thanks Min.” You spoke, watching him nod and turn to walk away. Instead of leaving him be, you spoke up again;

“You wanna watch something together? I’m sure being cooped up in your room is boring..” You don’t know why the suggestion escaped you, feeling embarrassment the moment you noticed Armin’s form stiffen. Your eyes turned to the pill bottle, twisting the cap slow. “It’s uh.. cool if you don’t want t—“

“Is this another test, (Y/N)?”

You blinked slowly as his words permeated the atmosphere, entering your mind and settling there for a split second. You thought over the sentence, tongue nervously swiping across your bottom lip the moment you realized his tone. It’s usual softness was gone, replaced with something you couldn’t pinpoint.

You tried to play off your silence, a soft— forced chuckle escaping you. “Test? What test, Armin?”

You watched as the man’s shoulders lowered, body turning to face you. Your teeth was caught on your bottom lip, feeling tension enter the air.

Armin looked at you, or rather observed you for a silent moment. You didn’t know what to do, trapped under the gaze; unable to look away. Your fingers gripped the towel underneath you, debating whether to apologize or demand to know what was suddenly wrong.

Finally, after what seemed like hours but was truly five minutes; Armin spoke.

“First, you take a bottle of mine and drink it without permission.” His words were slow, as if listing off the directions of a cookbook. What’s more, Armin moved towards you, your chest bumping with each step he took. “Next, you accidentally, cut yourself whenever I’m in the kitchen.” He was close now, standing beside the table.

You sunk into the cushion behind you, gasping the moment he closed the space; hands pressed against the furniture— trapping you. “And lastly, you invite me to sit with you in such an innocent manner.. I don’t know whether to call you a genius or just plain naive, (Y/N).”

“Armin..” You breathed softly, feeling your mouth go dry. His eyes flicked between your body and lips, clearly struggling to focus on a single thing. “Armin, I—.. I’m confused, what are you talking about?”

Finally it seemed he had made a choice, gaze focusing onto your own. Silently, the man smiled, a forced one— a toothy one. Your eyes widened, breath hitching the moment you spotted the fangs placed perfectly in his mouth. A shudder went down your spine, gripping the towel even harsher.

“Oh wow..” Armin spoke lowly, stealing your attention from his canines. “I reveal something.. so, so troubling and yet— you’re excited. More then excited actually.. ecstatic, maybe?” The man pondered, coming even closer to you.

Your hands rose to grip his arms, gasping the moment you felt his face lower to your neck. As his teeth ghosted your neck, you felt your heart threatening to escape your chest. You pinched your eyes closed, twitched, even turned your head to the side.

And yet, Armin did nothing. He simply.. hovered there.

A frustration you didn’t wish to acknowledge build within you, manicured fingers digging into his cool, skin. “Armin..”

“What is it, (Y/N)? You want me to bite you, don’t you?” The words escaped him the moment you uttered his name, a hand lifting from the cushion whilst he pulled back from your neck. Now face to face, his fingers collected your chin to assure you didn’t glance away. “I thought at first you were concerned for your safety, maybe even scared. But no..” His lips quirked, thumb rising to smooth across your wet bottom lip. “You’re clearly far from scared.”

“Armin.. please just—“

“I will. I promise.” He interjected, releasing your face. Your eyes widened the moment he pushed your shoulder, laying you down on the couch. The cushion in-front of you sunk in as he sat down, hands dragging to your waist covered in shorts. “But first.. I think I’ll get my fill another way.”

Your eyes widened at his words, feeling his fingers hook under the thin pink fabric of your bottoms and panties, peeling them from your body in one swift motion. Embarrassment flooded through your body, instinctively closing your thighs.

Armin’s eyes switched from your legs over to your face, head tilting as he took in your nervous expression. To your surprise, a gentle smile stretched across his face, one that you’ve gotten used to, one that caused you to melt easily.

Noticing this, it didn’t take much to gently push your legs apart, featuring your cunt to him. “That’s a good girl..” Armin spoke softly, hand slipping under your shirt, spreading across your stomach. The man lowered until he was face to face with your slit, unfazed by the blood upon it.

You whimpered the moment his thick tongue glided up— hole to clit, hands reaching down to rest upon his hair. A soft groan escaped the man, rising up whilst licking his lips clean of your mess. It was clear all restraints were gone now, the wild look in his eyes causing your stomach to stir.

“Do you know how long I waited for this?” The man questioned you, resting on one hand; the other’s fingers gently gliding up and down cunt, collecting your mixed essence and blood. “You were gonna drive me crazy one day; parading in such small shorts, showcasing your skin to me.” His words escaped him shamelessly, fingers pushing past your folds to gently brush your clit, moving away before you could even moan.

“You wanted this from the beginning.. didn’t you?” Armin suddenly spoke, escaping the trance to look at your face. He watched as you shook your head far too quickly, a small no even escaping you. That alone caused his reddened lips to curl into a smile, “You should leave the lying to me, sweetheart.”

You gasped the moment he dove back down, lips pressed against your wet slit. The man wasted no time in allow his tongue to glide across your slit, pushing to licking at your clit. Your taste, your smell— it was enough to have him groan right into your pussy, drinking every crimson droplet that escaped you.

You thought you would feel uncomfortable, maybe even a little gross; getting ate out in such a state. But those thoughts melted the minute his lips wrapped around your swelling bud, teasing you gently with the points of his fangs. Your back was rising from the cushion now, squirming upon the towel underneath you.

Your hands lowered to his hair, fingers curling in the blonde tresses for a tight hold. With the way his tongue was moving against you, you needed leverage; you needed an anchor. You felt far too pliable, melting into the feeling as wanton moans escaped your slick lips.

Gasps of his name, sweet whispers of how good it felt. Your arousal mixed with blood was trickling freely from your entrance, making such a mess; one that Armin lapped up far too eagerly.

And the moment you felt his thick tongue curl inside your awaiting hole, oh— you were finished.

“Hah.. Fuck, Armin—!” You hissed softly, feeling the wet muscle twist and turn inside you, brushing against your gummy walls and delving on you like a meal.

Which, to Armin, you were.

The man groaned into you in response, hands moving to your thighs and gripping; halting your moving. You were forced to lay there as he ate you, a band forming within your stomach; long replacing the agonizing cramps.

Your moans bounced off the living room walls, face turning into the cushions as hot pants escaped you. Your toes were curling, a sweat presenting itself upon your forehead as the pleasure consumed you full; flooding his mouth with more crimson arousal.

Armin drunk you up eagerly, fingers digging into your skin to keep to right there. He licked you clean, leaving no spot untouched; savoring his plate. After moments of this pleasure it melted into overstimulated torture, hands falling and pushing against his head.

“A—armin.. fuck, I can’t—“ Your eyebrows were pushing close, rising to sit up; gasping the moment he tugged, forcing you to fall back on the cushions. His face was flush against your messy cunt, drinking you up completely. Little tears formed in your eyes, legs moving as your stomach clenched and clenched.

Your worried words fell on deaf ears, literally. With how much your warm thighs were wrapping around his head, he could barely hear a damn thing. Even so, Armin refused to leave— not until you came on his tongue again.

With more fearsome licks and sucks, hands massaging your skin as if coaxing you— Armin felt his dick jump the moment you cried out for him, coming all over his tongue again.

“Taste.. so good, so fucking good princess…” He drawled right into your center, the vibrations of his voice causing you to keen. Unlike before, he let up from licking you dry, raising from between your legs— a complete mess.

You watched as Armin’s tongue licked the rest of your taste off his lips, his eyes closed; relishing it.

His hands slowly dropped your body to the cushion, hand curling under his shirt and pulling it off his body. Once off, the man used it to wipe his face— tossing it to the ground shortly after.

He’d wash it later.

Armin moved to hover above you, hand falling to your chin and turning to looking at your eyes. The man smiled the moment your hand wrapped around his wrist, leaning down and pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. “Your cramps gone?” He asked in a soft, coy tone. The small huff you released caused the man to chuckle, moving to plant his lips on your own.

You moaned as his tongue intruded your mouth, ignoring the foreign taste of yourself on your tongue. Instead, you focused on him sucking your own wet muscle whilst his hand lowered to your covered chest, a thumb brushing over your hardening nipple. Your soft pants entered his mouth, hips rising against him; caring less if you soiled his pants.

And it seemed he didn’t either, hand gripping your hip and grinding back against you. Your hands traveled up his back, a hiss escaping him from how your short nails dragged across his cool, uncovered skin.

Pulling back, Armin stared down at you, taking in your bruised lips and the clear want swimming within your dark eyes. To add to the pretty picture was your bonnet slipping off your head, exposing the perfect boho braids you’ve recently got; edges sweated off.

“Such a mess.” The man murmured softly, hand rising and treading from your neck to your cheek; cupping it to allow his thumb to drag under your eye. “My pretty mess..” Armin dragged, leaning closer as his hand released your face, falling to his hips to tug down his sweats and boxers.

Your noses brushed together, your soft breaths fanning against his face. “Yours..” You murmured back, staring into his eyes. Such words brought a smile to his face, stealing your lips in another kiss while his tip brushed against your soaked slit.

Pushing you wider, Armin angled to slowly push inside, gripping your thigh the moment you tensed up. He pulled back from the kiss, forehead rested against your own. “Mm, don’t tense up; relax for me.. Just, relax.” He cooed softly, thumb tracing the stretch marks that littered your hips. With less effort he pushed all the way inside, praising you softly;

“Taking me so well, pretty.. such a good girl.” Armin spoke, chuckling at the small whine that escaped you. Pressing a gentle kiss to the space between your eyes, the vampire rose to rest on his hunches. He observed you closely, searching for any sign of restraint or discomfort. The moment he discovered neither, he was pulling his hips back until only the tip was inside.

Armin then plunged his hips forward, the wet sound echoing in the room; followed by your soft moan. His hands moved to your hips, starting a languid pace. Despite how good you felt around his throbbing length, you didn’t want to hurt him. Despite how sweet your moans were, he controlled himself in fear of harming you.

But, you were far from compliant with the current pace.

Your hips rose to meet a thrust, the action alone causing a moan to escape the both of you.

“N—need more, Min.. please.” Was the soft beg that escaped your slick lips, rocking your hips; watching the way his eyebrows creased and lip was caught under his fangs.

His restraint was dwindling with each roll of your hips, each sickeningly sweet plead that escaped your throat. Finally Armin’s inhibitions melted away, the slow; carful moans switching into fast snaps of his hips.

Your head landed against the plush cushions, crying out as your legs wrapped around his waist. He was drilling you into the mattress at this point, a harsh grip to keep you in place as he fucked you. A string of curses escaped you, gripping the towel underneath you as your feet bounced with each thrust.

Armin lowered, the new angle causing your swollen bud to brush against his pelvic area; the new sensation completely turning your brain into mush. The man enjoyed it all, glancing down at you in complete awe. You looked far too beautiful like this, far too—

“Perfect.. so fucking perfect— fu..fuck—“ The man hissed, pressing an arm above your head whilst the other grabbed your cheeks. “Look at me, princess.. that’s it, keep your eyes on me. Watch how well you take me.” His words were driving you deeper and deeper, your walls clenching as jumbled cries of his name escaped you.

“A—armin—!”

His eyes were rolling back at the call of his name, drilling into you as he leaned down to your neck. Between the harsh bouncing of your body his fangs sunk right through your skin, gripping you even closer the moment a shriek escaped you.

A guttural groan escaped Armin as he delved on your blood, hissing the moment you creamed all over his cock. Yet, his hips never stopped; continuing to ruin you, using his form to keep you laid out and open on the couch.

Your eyes were meeting your skull, lips parted as shameless noises leaped from your raw throat. Soon he let up, licking the wound from his fangs and moving to be face to face with you again.

“Taking me so good, princess— like your.. fu—fucking made for me, shit—“ Armin closed his eyes tight, feeling his orgasm build. Your velvety walls were clenching him so nicely, pulsing around his heavy length with each drag of his hips. His balls were slapping against your center, the wet strikes entering the room of sex and combined moans.

Tears trailed from your eyes, staining your brown, chubby cheeks as your hand carried to his hip. Despite the pleasure, the pain of another orgasm was approaching; your body writhing as you furiously shook your head. “Fuck, I— fuck, I can’t Min!” You whined out, breath bitching as a feverish kiss was placed to your forehead.

His face was close now, nose brushing your own as his lips ghosted your own. “You’ve been so good so far, don’t stop now sweet girl.” Armin hissed between clenched teeth, a hand falling from your hip between your conjoined bodies. The moment his fingers rubbed against your little bud you were arching, the vampire easily chasing your body to continue the harsh circles.

“Fuck, fuck! Armin—!”

“That’s it, baby.. let it out, don’t hold it.” The man coaxed softly, eyebrows creasing as he felt his own orgasm arriving. Armin watched intently as your stiffened, a drawn out cry of his name escaping you while making a complete mess of his lower half. “That’s my girl.. my good fucking girl.” He leaned to plant another kiss to your lips all while his hips never stopped their pace.

Soon enough, a harsh groan entered your mouth as he flooded you with his come; some spilling out from inside.

You pulled back from his lips for air, clinging to him with your eyes pinched closed. Your body was aching, you felt sweaty, and frankly gross— but you didn’t care. Not one bit.

A subtle whine escaped you the moment Armin pulled out from you, his gaze settled on his come escaping you. With a slow rub of his thumb against your skin, the man leaned to stamp a kiss right above your heart. “I’ll start the shower up.”

You watched as he stepped off the couch, moving to walk over to the bathroom— only for your voice to stop him.

“Armin.. those bottles in the fridge, they weren’t blood right?”

He looked at you for a long moment before a little grin pulled his features. “No. Just the ones in back. I knew you would pick from the front.”

With that Armin resumed his walk to the bathroom, leaving you there; feeling just a little stupid.

Well, at least you were right. Your good friend of two years turned roommate turned something more— was definitely a vampire.

REBLOGS & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[detachedminxsfics]

Memories

Masterlist

Characters: Comedian (Edward Blake) x Ex Vigilante F!Reader

Summary: After retiring from being a vigilante in '77 you lost touch with most of your old teammates, until you happen to bump into one of them eight years later, the Comedian.

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: NSFW - Age gap (reader in their early 30s, eddie mid 60s), period-typical sexism, brief dry humping, vaginal sex, praise, eddie's filthy mouth

A/N: I never write any sort of 'soft' version of the Comedian as it's out of character, but for old Eddie specifically he got a lot more lonely and regretful as he aged, which we saw especially in scenes like his talk with Moloch. So this is some sweet smut with some angst & fluff at the end.

It was pouring with rain, the streets of Manhattan slick and reflecting the light from the street lights that lined the sidewalk, the puddles that occasionally littered the ground rippling with every drop of rain that crashed against its surface. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to warm yourself up, your clothes damp and clinging to your skin besides the leather trenchcoat you'd thrown on in a hurry, and stepped out from the momentary shelter you'd found from the rain in the form of a small ledge overhanging above the entrance to a store. You looked down the busy road hoping to wave down a cab when you caught sight of a man holding an umbrella heading down the sidewalk towards you, not quite registering him at first until you saw the scar extending from his brow to the side of his mouth.

"Eddie?" You called out with uncertainty.

His head lifted, his eyes searching for the source of the sound until he locked eyes with you, picking up the pace in his steps until he reached you.

"Doll?" He responded with a smile, looking you over as though he equally couldn't quite believe it was really you after all this time.

Eddie noticed the way the rain was pouring on your already drenched hair and coat and chuckled, stepping closer to you so that he could hold the umbrella to cover both of your heads.

"God, it has to have been at least-"

"8 years." Eddie interjected when you seemed to be doing the mental math of how long it had been since you last saw him, a melancholy tone to his voice with the way he was able to recall it so perfectly.

You nodded and let out a sigh that turned into a small, misty cloud in the cool air.

"Well, I was just on my way home. You could come back with me and I can get you some coffee, maybe even get you dried up while we wait for the rain to stop?" He suggested, though there was a light in his eyes as he said it like he'd be disappointed if you didn't.

"Sure, I'd love to catch up, and I never say no to coffee." You smiled, to which he held out his arm for you to take and you linked your arm with his.

The walk to Eddie's high-rise apartment building, the Promethea Building according to the signage at the entrance, was short but sweet, and he was leading you through the lobby and into the elevator before you knew it. When you got to the floor of his apartment he stepped out prompting you to follow him, the folded umbrella clutched in his hand dripping and leaving wet splotches on the floor on the way to his door. He retrieved his key from his pocket and unlocked it, pushing it open and allowing you to follow him in as he stepped inside, then closed the door behind you as you quietly observed the inside of his apartment. It was very spacious and probably cost a fortune, but you weren't surprised that Eddie could afford such a thing after doing vigilante work for over 40 years now. Although you couldn't say the same for you and any of the other crime fighters of your generation whose careers were cut so short. You were torn from your train of thought when you felt Eddie reach around from behind you to undo the belt at the waist of your leather coat, his breath fanning against the side of your face as he leaned over your shoulder to be able to see what he was doing, seemingly lingering there a little too long. He slid it down your arms once the material came apart which bunched at your wrists, and you helped him get it off from there.

"Thanks." You muttered as he took your coat and hung it up before he moved to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

"I'm gonna go change." Eddie mumbled as he turned to go down the hall, presumably towards his bedroom.

You took the time alone to begin wandering around the apartment, the view from the large glass wall overlooking the city being the first thing to catch your eye. There was a usual smog covering the dark, cloudy sky, the rain still pouring and spilling over the window whilst the streets below were somewhat busy with the occasional passerby and the many cars on the road. When you turned you were surprised to find a framed photo of you that you'd done for a magazine cover towards the start of your crime-fighting career hung on the wall. It generated just the right amount of publicity to put you on the map for good and got the papers to take an interest in reporting the criminals you'd turn in, not that any of your male counterparts had to do that, they were front page no matter what. The whistle of the kettle got louder and louder whilst you stared at the picture, a small smile on your face as you reminisced. You were part of the second generation of costumed vigilantism after those such as the Comedian and his time, the time when being a masked freak was actually a good thing. That admiration became tarnished when public outrage started to grow towards those sworn to protect them and people took to the streets in the form of riots, but you could hardly dispute the sentiment when there were those such as Eddie at the helm, the poster boy for egotistical displays of power and anarchy. You met Eddie at a meeting to join a new crime-fighting team proposed by Ozymandias, in which he not so gracefully crapped over the idea of the whole thing before taking his leave, leaving the plans that had been drawn up in flames. That should've been the first sign of trouble, but you naively followed him out and did some work as a duo afterwards, sometimes a trio with Nite Owl when he had enough patience to deal with Eddie's antics; you liked to think you balanced the whole thing out to make it tolerable enough for Daniel.

"Ya like staring at yourself, huh?" Eddie commented once the screeching of the kettle simmered down, and you turned to find him pouring the boiling water into two coffee mugs.

"Or you like staring at me." You retorted with raised brows which made him chuckle a little.

"It's a nice picture, you look good." He responded simply as he set the kettle down and picked up a small spoon to stir the coffee.

"About as nice as that hustler magazine on your coffee table, right?" You gestured to it with a tilt of your head and crossed your arms over your chest playfully.

He only let out a small laugh in the form of a snort and searched the pockets of the robe he was now wearing, a lighter and a cigar in his hand once he removed it. He propped the cigar between his lips and brought the lighter to it, igniting the end before flipping it shut and placing it back into his pocket.

"I'm an old man now, sweetheart. I can eyeball as many hustler magazines as I damn well please." He spoke around the cigar, balancing it in his mouth as he did.

Eddie picked up the coffee mugs and started bringing them towards the couch making you round the glass table to settle down on it. He placed the mugs down on the table and closed his fingers around the cigar as he lowered himself down onto the couch, blowing a stream of smoke from his lips as he did. He then reached up to grab the t-shirt he'd slung over his shoulder and held it out for you to take.

"Here, bathroom's down the hall." He muttered.

You quickly made your way to the bathroom and removed your soaked sweater, your body already much warmer when you removed it and threw on Eddie's t-shirt. He was twice your size and built like a linebacker meaning it was more of an oversized dress than a top, but you used that to your advantage and removed your now drenched pants too. When you returned he briefly dragged his eyes over your bare legs, whilst you couldn't help but notice the small smiley face pin badge he was still sporting after all these years as you sat back down beside him.

"Still wearing this, huh?" You reached out to run your thumb over the badge clipped to his robe. "Did you give it up?"

He thought for a moment before shaking his head, watching as your thumb ran over the badge before looking back into your eyes.

"I registered, I do work for 'em here and there. You?"

You lowered your hand and sighed.

"Not since '77."

In 1977 Congress passed the Keene Act outlawing vigilantism and requiring you to register with the government if you wanted to continue, but you felt as though that regulation came at a price as did many others, so you retired.

"Do you miss it?" Eddie asked as he removed the cigar from his mouth to take a sip of his coffee before setting the mug down again.

You mirrored him and reached to take a sip from your own coffee as you thought about your answer. It was a loaded question, but you ultimately settled for the latter.

"Yeah, I think so. But I'm guessing you don't get to patrol the streets anymore and screw around like we used to." You pointed out, earning a smile from him in response.

"Yeah, not so much of that anymore."

Reflecting on it had a wistful glint fill his eyes for a fleeting moment, but he moved on with the hopes of not getting too wrapped up in the nostalgia of the past.

"So, you married? Kids?" He asked as he blew another cloud of smoke which slowly started to dissipate.

Your brows bounced up and you let out a small laugh of disbelief. That kind of question seemed so out of place directed towards you of all people.

"Married? God no. That was out of the question the moment they clamped down on crime fighting. You think most men are thrilled at the idea of marrying a woman who could toss him over her shoulder like it was nothing?"

"Well, you'd have a hard time doing that to me." Eddie remarked.

"My point exactly." You retorted.

"Touché." He added with a smile.

He pushed the cigar back between his lips and casually rested his large hand just above your knee. His hand felt nice and warm on your cold skin, so you were hardly opposed to the touch.

"You still living at your old place?" Eddie continued, blowing smoke with each word.

"Yeah, never moved. Too many memories." You admitted with a small shrug having always been quite the sentimentalist.

Eddie nodded in understanding and then started to chuckle, shaking his head as your words sparked some long forgone memory in his mind.

"What?" You pried playfully, curious as to what you'd reminded him of.

"Ya remember when Dan got injured? Me and you had to haul his ass back to your apartment since your place was closest, that night was a mess." He recalled with a grin, subconsciously caressing your thigh with his rough, calloused palm as he spoke.

You laughed as it flooded back to you. The three of you had decided to traipse around the city on foot that night rather than taking the Owlship, much to Daniel's dismay. Unsurprisingly, things took a turn when the three of you came face to face with a small horde of rioters. You were able to disband them with minimal civilian harm no thanks to Eddie but not before Daniel got swarmed by a cluster of them, and you had been too busy making sure Eddie wasn't manhandling or brutalising anybody to notice.

"Yeah, I patched him up and then sent you two idiots on your way." You reminisced with an eye roll.

He didn't know it, but you hadn't wanted Eddie to leave that night.

There was some shared laughter and then a comfortable silence once it died down, the two of you just enjoying one another's company until Eddie set his cigar down in the ashtray resting on top of the magazine. He raised his hand to hold one side of your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek.

"Me and you really did have some fun, didn't we?"

You let a warm smile take over your lips and placed your hand over the back of his.

"We sure did, Eddie."

He was so much closer to you now, and you could've sworn his gaze briefly settled on your lips before looking back into your eyes, and then he leaned forward. Eddie's lips pressed against yours, his hand still caressing the side of your face and using it to deepen the kiss. Then he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the taste of cigars and the aroma of him permeating your senses, including any urge to not go against your better judgment. You wasted no time sliding onto his lap, a grunt escaping his lips as you settled down on his groin and let your hands get lost in the thick grey strands at the sides of his hair. He let go of your cheek to stroke his hands over your thighs and beneath the hem of your t-shirt, his rough fingertips brushing over your hips and moving down to cup your ass, the force in his grip earning a low moan from you. Rolling your hips slightly had his fingers dig into your skin, the groan that rumbled from his throat getting lost in the kiss and the friction you were creating only making the bulge forming beneath his robe grow that much harder. Eddie stood from the couch taking you with him, his hands still gripping your ass firmly to support you prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist, your arms wrapped around his neck and your hands running through his hair as he makes his way to the bedroom. You unwrap your legs from him when he leans down to set you on the bed, straightening his back to start undoing his robe whilst you sit up to cross your arms and gather the material at the hem of the top he had given you, pulling it over your head and tossing it on the floor by the bed. When his robe came apart you were quick to lean up on your knees and press your lips against his lower abdomen, peppering kisses all the way from his stomach to his chest. Eddie let out a pleased sound and tangled his fingers in your hair, letting you admire his body some more before taking hold of your chin and tilting you to look up at him.

"I missed you, doll." He rasped, moving his thumb up to sweep over your bottom lip.

You smiled up at him and ran your hand down his chest, enjoying the way the hair on his chest felt beneath your palm.

"I missed you too."

He urged you to lay back down and climbed on top of you, his hands moving down to grasp your thighs and spread them apart, settling into the space he made between your legs and smashing his lips against yours. Lining up with your entrance he pushed himself inside you, the short gasp you let out as you stretched around him muffled against his lips as he gave you a moment to adjust to the feel of him before he started moving. He broke the kiss to bury his head in the crook of your neck and litter kisses there, slightly sucking and teasing the skin between his teeth in a way that was guaranteed to leave you with marks, the thick scruff of the moustache on his upper lip scratching along your neck all the while. Shamelessly you let one of your hands get lost in his hair again, combing your fingers through it and gathering a fistful of it to gently tug once you got to the back, your other hand sliding down his back allowing you to enjoy the way the muscles in his back flexed against your palm. He stopped his affections on your neck to turn his attention to your ear, whispering into it.

"You don't know how long I've wondered what this pussy would feel like." Eddie drawled, emphasising his words with a particularly deep thrust.

For a moment he slowed his movements only to lean back and take hold of your leg, propping it on his broad shoulder before sinking back into you and filling you to the hilt all over again.

"Oh fuck, Eddie." You whined.

He chuckled, eyes half-lidded with lust and turned to place a tender kiss on the side of your knee while his hand grasped the top of your thigh. Then he started moving his hips again, long, excruciatingly hard thrusts that were only heightened by the angle he'd positioned you in. Eddie was taking his time with you. Savouring you and the way you felt, the way you sounded, the way your mouth fell open and your eyes screwed shut when he hit a particular spot. The rain was still pouring over Eddie's bedroom window, the soft thuds and pitter-patter against the glass the only noise in the room besides your needy cries and the occasional creak of the bed. He planted a few kisses along your neck again, dragging his mouth up and across your jaw until he reached your lips, and then claimed your lips with his.

"Feels so fuckin' good, babydoll." He cooed between kisses, the praise going straight to your cunt.

This was probably the first time in Eddie's whole life that he felt as though he was making love to a woman and not just fucking someone to get himself off. To him, you had never been just a pretty face or a rookie vigilante for him to mess with because he cared about you, and that was saying a lot considering Eddie didn't much care for anything, especially these days. You were the only person who had ever been able to look past his sadistic and amoral front, even when he never gave you a glimpse at the tormented man underneath. There was no doubt that the Comedian was one sick sonofabitch, a cold, heartless bastard as many would say, but he loved you for whatever that was worth.

He started bucking his hips into you rougher, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with your moans and the way he was buried so deep inside you making you dig your nails into his skin with the hand you'd placed on his back, the other still in his hair. He groaned against your lips as he felt you claw down his back, the sensation only spurring him on to make his thrusts that much more intense.

"Come for me, hon." Eddie coaxed as he felt you start to squirm beneath him, every thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand gathering a fistful of hair at the back of his head as you clung to him, and then it crashed over you. Your breath caught in your throat, your body arching into him as he only continued to fuck you throughout your orgasm, and you finally choked out an unbridled sob from your parted lips at the overstimulation. The sound seemed to tip him over the edge too, quickly withdrawing himself from you and removing your leg from his shoulder letting it drop to his hip. He spilt onto your lower abdomen, warm droplets splashing on your skin as guttural groans reverberated through his chest, which rose and fell rapidly with his short, jagged gulps of air. Eddie took a moment to collect himself, the two of you panting as you tried to ride out your highs.

Eventually, he leaned down to place a sloppy kiss between your breasts and then got up in search of something, returning with a small towel when he was back in your field of view. Eddie never usually cared about this sort of thing, but he thought you'd appreciate the gesture. He climbed back onto the bed and started wiping you down, then tossed the towel aside when he was done cleaning you up and laid down beside you. You immediately draped your arm across him, your leg moving over him as you rested your head against his chest and sighed softly when he wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss on the top of your head, pulling you flush against his chest.

"We should've done this years ago." You remarked, drawing a conceited chuckle from Eddie in response.

Things got quiet when his laughter tapered off,  and then his voice pierced the silence.

"I shoulda married you."

You didn't quite believe what you had heard at first and didn't even glance at him to make sure that you had heard him correctly.

"What?"

"Don't make me say it again." He warned, knowing that you had most likely heard him the first time.

You lifted your head from his chest to look at him and were totally staggered by what you found. His eyes were glassy and full of regret, and it was clear that he was trying to keep it together so that he didn't have to be vulnerable with you. But laying here with you and feeling you wrapped up in his arms, even the sound of your slow, steady breaths drove him to a conclusion he'd been avoiding for years. He was lonely. He refused to ever come to terms with it because he'd never needed anybody, but that attitude hadn't survived the test of time. Eddie didn't have anybody to come home to after spending months away on some classified overseas bullshit, he didn't have anyone to call his own, it was just him. You sat up and cupped one side of his face, his eyes boring into yours.

"Does it help if I say I would've said yes?" You added truthfully, though it was disguised as a way of cheering him up.

He snorted his laughter and grinned, placing his much larger hand over the back of yours.

"Of course you would've, you've always been sweet on me doll." He taunted in response, which made you playfully scoff.

You leaned in and pressed a deliberately long kiss on his cheek directly over where his scar is, and then gave his lips a quick peck too.

"Well, why don't we make up for lost time, hm? We can grab dinner next week."

Then there was that sadness filling his eyes again, though you weren't sure it had ever truly left.

"I can't. I'm being shipped off to god knows where on another mission again. I don't know when I'll be back, I'm hardly ever here." Eddie sighed frustratedly.

You nodded in understanding, your thumb idly stroking his cheek.

"Okay, well when you're back just give me a call. We'll figure something out." You suggested with a small smile.

You settled back down onto his chest, his fingers combing through your strands as he started to stroke your hair, the touch making your eyelids feel heavier until eventually, you succumbed to sleep.

[ilovetheriddler]

Hi, I don’t know if you’re still open to this kind of fic but what about the riddler stalking the reader and they are doing the same thing, so basically him meeting his match

I do still take these types of requests, so don't worry! I'd love to! This is funnily enough my second request that involves the riddler and stalking, I love it! You didn't specify what Version you wanted, so I'm just going to choose one at random! I'll be honest. I horribly misread part of your request and didn't realize until I had already finished the fic! I'm so sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it!

Mutual Observations.

(2022 Batman) Edward Nashton x F!Reader.

(Declaimer: I don't condone or approve of the actions taken in this story. It is purely a work of fiction.)

Word Count: 802.

Contents: Stalking, obsessive thoughts, kidnapping.

Edward had been following you, attempting to observe your every action for weeks now. You were one of the only three things that relentlessly plagued his mind. Which were his desire to cleanse gotham from its own corruption, puzzles, and, of course, you.

You were truly fascinating to him, He craved knowing every possible thing there was to know about you. What annoyed you, what you took pleasure and joy in, what would upset you, what scared you. All of it, he desperately needed to know all of it.

He found it interesting how you'd sneak around at night, even going as far as to break into a few places after hours. What exactly were you up to? The numerous possibilities intrigued him greatly.

The truth was that you were also looking into exposing Renewal for what it really was. You had countless relatives and friends who had been wronged by it, and you just couldn't stand by and do nothing. That's why you became a journalist. You wanted to expose the filthy corruption in this city, make it a better place for everyone who lived here.

Edward came upon this realization himself when he broke into your apartment while you were at work. You had all your collected evidence against renewal kept neatly in an overflowing folder on your desk, a lot more well-kept than his own setup at home.

He couldn't help the gleeful grin that came across his face as he looked through all of your files. You wanted the same thing as him. You wanted to clean up gotham, although with a less... extreme approach than he was taking. However, despite that, this was fantastic!

He was borderline giddy with how excited this revelation made him. You weren't like everyone else in this corrupted city. You wanted to help people. You were just like him.... you were absolutely perfect in his eyes, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if you were willing to assist him in his endeavors as the riddler.

He tried to picture the way that you'd smile at him so kindly, you always did it with everyone else you saw, so why wouldn't you do it with him? He was sure that you would, after all... you both wanted the same thing ultimately, and he'd be oh so happy to help you, in his own way, that is.

He was positive that you'd love working with him. The two of you could have breakfast and dinner together. You could both compare your notes and evidence so far to help each other. He felt his face heat up considerably when he briefly thought of if you'd be okay with perhaps cuddling him at night? He knew, however, that he shouldn't attempt to push you, that he'll have to allow you time to properly adjust once he gets ahold of you.

Edward wasn't stupid. He knew that you wouldn't assist him willing, and that was fine. You were kind, sweet, and compassionate. It made sense in his mind why you wouldn't exactly approve of his methods. But that's okay... he was sure that you'd eventually warm up to his way of thinking.

It had been a few days since he originally broke into your apartment, and first formulated his plan to have you. And only a few hours ago, he had knocked you out and carried you back to his apartment. He knew that you'd be understandley upset and even scared of him, but that would all pass in due time, and he could wait.

He felt his heart rate speed up as he noticed that you were waking up. You were drowsy and disoriented, but you looked absolutely angelic to him.

Your eyes widened with fear as you fully regained consciousness and realized that you weren't at home. You screamed when you noticed the man sitting in a chair right next to you, just silently staring at you.

"Shh.... it's alright.... Everything is perfectly fine, I'm not going to hurt you...."

You glanced around his room in a panic and quickly noticed all of the newspapers and other notes, pictures, and more that he had all over his walls. All things relating to Renewal.

"W-why... do you have all of this stuff....?"

"Because.... I want the same thing that you do.... I want to see those who have wronged people pay...."

Something about the way that he said it made your skin crawl, and you couldn't exactly place what it was. You knew that you had to try to get out of here, but you also had no idea how potentially dangerous this man was. So it would be safest to play along until you worked out a way to escape.

You just genuinely hoped that it wouldn't backfire on you.

[danosrosegarden]

NSFW Alphabet - Angel!Edward Nashton

Contains: headcannons about my version of Edward Nashton from the "Angel" series!

Note: I've never done a NSFW alphabet yet! I hope you enjoy this little preview of what's to come in future chapters. ;-)

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

The aftercare is mostly focused on him. He needs to be held, needs to be told he did so, so good for you. But rest assured, he'll do whatever to make sure you're comfortable. You just have to let him know what you need.

B = Body part (their favorite part of their body and also their partner's)

Angel Eddie likes to pick himself apart until he's nothing but raw bones. A favorite part of himself? He loathes most all of it. He supposes he can appreciate his hands, though. They're nice and veiny. On you? Oh, how could he choose? If you've got tits, he can't get enough of touching them, resting his head on them, squeezing the squishy flesh. He's also a big thigh fan. He likes to run his hands along the soft, plush skin. Just to feel your warmth provides him an immense amount of comfort.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

Angel Eddie is obsessed with cumming inside of you. Not only does it feel incredible, but he loves to pull out and watch his warm cum drip from you. It's such a gorgeous sight for him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He gets off on getting jealous. To know other people have had you before both gets him fuming and serves as furious masturbation material.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

No experience. He masturbates constantly and watches an unhealthy amount of porn (even though he despises it. He stops watching it completely when you come into the picture), but he's never had the opportunity present itself.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Angel Eddie loves watching you ride him. It's such a breathtaking spectacle, watching your hips swivel and buck.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?)

Sex is a very serious thing for Angel Eddie. He's never trusted anyone like this before. It's going to take him a long while to loosen up and have fun with it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

The carpet matches the drapes here, baybee. He doesn't care too much about trimming himself, and he doesn't care about your hair situation, either.

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

He's such a hopeless romantic...maybe even a little unnervingly so. He'll grip your hips with trembling hands and spit about how you're his, his, only his.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

All. The. Time. You'd think it would get better when you come into the picture, but he actually does it even more (take it as a compliment...the memory of you is his fuel!). Definitely at least once a day, and many times it's more.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I could make a whole other post about this one! Angel Eddie is a major sub. He loves doms who are just a teensy bit mean to him. He also loves overstim and lovebiting.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He's not sharing, so don't even think about doing it in public. Nobody else gets to enjoy you once you're together. It's only happening behind closed doors. However, he's down for any room in the apartment. The bedroom! The bathroom in the shower! On top of the kitchen counter! The possibilities are...not endless, but there's a few.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Like I mentioned before, learning about your past as a sex worker gives him something to prove. He feels as though he has to prove he's better than anything your clients could've dreamed of offering you.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

No threesomes. He is absolutely not down for sharing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give. Not that he doesn't adore receiving, because he sure does. But lord, how beautiful you sound when he's swirling his tongue around you. How gorgeously in tune those groans come pouring out from your mouth. He may not be the best at first, but he's a quick learner. He memorizes the moves and swipes that make you twitch and saves them in the back of his mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Usually slow and sensual. The pace is really up to you. If you want him to give you something rougher, he's incredibly nervous, but he really just wants to please you however he can.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often)

Not a fan. He wants quality time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks?)

He's down to experiment, but he would prefer if you were the one making decisions for him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

You might think he'd cum the instant he gets inside of you...but when he masturbates, he likes to edge himself all the time, sometimes denying himself of an orgasm altogether. So, he can last for as long as you need him to.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Angel Eddie loves toys, especially if you're using them on him. Peg him, stroke him, place a little bullet vibe on his sensitive nipples. He goes crazy for it all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't really like teasing you. If you're the one teasing him, though? Oh, yeah. He likes that quite a bit. Yes, he needs constant reassurance. But he also loves getting humiliated and made to feel like a freak (only by you).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

Loud boy. High pitched whimpers and whines, always begging for just a little bit more.

W = Wild card (a random headcannon for the character)

He's similar to most of the Eddie's on this site in that he's an underwear thief. He likes to wrap them around his own throbbing cock while he strokes himself (he's thinking about you, of course).

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Angel Eddie is smaller than average. You, of course, have no problem with his size...you just want him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

So high. He wants it constantly. But he would absolutely never pressure you into sex if you didn't want it. You're usually the one initiating it, anyway.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He's a sleepy guy. He wants to receive and give aftercare, but after he checks that you're all comfortable and feeling good, he's conked out. Sleep well, nasty little perv. <3

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Can I get Riddlers with Henchwoman crush, who isn't too bright but still doesn't ask questions because she doesn't want people to laugh at her.

"Sweet as honey, dumb as..." Riddler party x F!reader

Absolutely! I figured I'd go directly for "she/her" rather than "you" for this one. Maybe I'm wrong but I'm getting oc vibes!

TW: None

Gotham

He figures it out within a few times of meeting her and is very actively not saying anything about it. She's pretty, she listens to his instructions, and she's nice to him! What else could he ask for besides her staying out of his plans?

He might get a little frustrated that she doesn't know the correct answers to his riddles but if she actually tries, that's already a step above others pre-criminal career. Even Oswald was kind of a jerk to him at first! But if people are mean to her... kill bill sirens.

The truth is, he knows his genius plus neurodivergency makes him a bit of an odd figure to others. Awkward and gangly. He tries to fit in, well, the TRIED to fit in. Seeing someone he cares about struggle to do the same thing because they don't feel enough hurts his heart. He'll help her fix it...

60s

He honestly didn't notice at first because, obviously, the reason she's so quiet is a silent reverence for his brilliance. Lots of people don't get his riddles anyways! Except the boy blunder and that thorn in his side.

Anyways, he likely only notices when another henchperson is giving her guff about being dumb. Cornering her when they think he's not around to bully. Edward is quickly behind them, chastising, "Oh, and you think you're so clever?" Rattling off riddles and quiz questions until they shirk away in shame.

"Pretty thing, is that why you haven't been speaking up? Such a shame to miss the sound of your voice simply because others are jealous you have my eye." That's what it is. Of course. That's how he'll phrase it. It's okay she doesn't need to be a genius for him, he'll do the thinking for both of them <3.

Zero Year/Capullo

He notices rather quickly. Her cute, puzzled looks but the way she keeps silent. The way he rambles on about certain topics and she gives a nervous smile and a nod.

of course he's going to fuck with her. Privately.

Tells her some long, theatrical version of Perseus and Medusa- Asks her how it relates to his current crime and what she knows about it. Come on, no need to be shy. He's waiting...

Aw, she doesn't know? It's alright, let him tell you all about it. Funny, he was willing to wipe out a whole city because they couldn't best him. Yet, he can't bear to lose her. She'll just have to be his prized caged bird, favored by the Gods.

BTAS

Genuinely, he's used to it? Most if not all of his henchpeople are pretty... eh, in terms of intelligence. They're there for MUSCLE and BRAWN. Surely, if Edward is there, they don't need anyone else thinking for them, anyways. Even Query and Echo weren't the brightest at moments!

It's more that she's choosing to not even ask questions. Everyone asks questions! Tim, the dumbest rock of them all, asks all his questions and Riddler is amazed the man knows how to breath and talk at the same time! Just... ask.

Also it's totally fine that she needs to ask him things and croon about how intelligent he is, that revs his engine. In fact, it's kind of ideal, in a way. Gain a little more confidence, stay devoted, sweetheart, and the world is your oyster! He'll make sure of it!

Telltale

There was some friction at first. Silent and stupid doesn't suit him. Condescending questions, "Did you actually understand all that or are you trying to save face, girl?" It's a good thing she's patient or she'd be scared off.

Anyone else laughs at her, though, and it's on. There's blood in the water and he's the shark. Only HE gets to be a shit to her, thank you very much.

"Ask your questions. Now. If you mess up my carefully articulated plans because you didn't bother to ask, I'll be much more cross than if you looked a certain way."

The affection develops from her genuine kindness and passions. Maybe she's not bright, but he sees her value as a person in other ways.

Arkham

In fairness, he already thinks everyone besides him is an idiot so it's not exactly disproving that theory. She's just more quiet about it. In some ways, it's pleasant. It means he doesn't have to listen to moronic whining all the time.

Yet, and he's not sure why, he feels this sort of longing in the pit of his stomach for her to not die while helping set up his traps. If he sees her on camera about to trigger something, he's shouting at her to stop! Stop, What Are You Doing-

It's quite distracting. She's going to have to stop being that kind of henchwoman immediately. Perhaps a position in the "office" with him, where he can keep an eye on her. Yes, surely this will have no consequences whatsoever and he can stop worrying about her safety or person.

2022

Probably the most "forgiving" of any of them. He's quiet himself so he just assumed his new henchwoman was matching his energy. Yet it's when she gets one of his direct orders wrong and he loses his temper... She's in tears and babbling about not understanding and the lightbulb goes on.

The mask is coming off and he's comforting her, "Shh, shhh, it's alright, it... People make mistakes." It doesn't hurt he's still been crushing on her for ages now so getting her to lean on him is a good feeling. He tells her it's alright, that if anyone makes fun of her, he'll take care of it personally.

He actively encourages her to ask him if she doesn't understand. It doesn't mean she's dumb it just... maybe she needs a little bit of help sometimes! It's okay!

[usafphantom2]

How the sixth-generation fighter jet will upend air warfare

Stephen LoseyFriday, Jul 19, 2024

The next generation of fighter aircraft could bring greater speed, range and ability to penetrate deep into enemy airspace — and it might even feature a revolutionary new type of engine, experts and retired U.S. Air Force officer say.

The aviation world has seen five generations of fighters, ranging from the subsonic F-86 Sabre after World War II to the current, stealthy F-35 Joint Strike Fighter. Now, militaries around the world are working on jets they believe will represent technological leaps significant enough to qualify as sixth-generation aircraft.

And while the precise definition of a sixth-generation aircraft isn’t set in stone yet, experts agree on some common attributes, retired Air Force Lt. Gen. Clint Hinote told Defense News.

The Air Force’s effort to build a sixth-gen fighter family of systems is known as Next Generation Air Dominance, or NGAD, and experts say the platform will be asked to do a lot of things.

“You want it to be fast, you want it to fly high,” said Hinote, who was the Air Force’s former deputy chief of staff for strategy, integration and requirements. “You want it to fly a long way. You want it to be as stealthy as possible — not only in radar frequency … [but also] in the infrared spectrum as well.”

Hinote and Heather Penney, a retired F-16 pilot and senior resident fellow at the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, said speed, stealth and range will be among the most crucial elements of a sixth-generation fighter — particularly if it is needed to cross long distances in the Pacific and enter Chinese-controlled airspace.

“Range and the ability to penetrate will be absolutely critical for sixth-generation aircraft, especially given that we’re looking at the Pacific theater and China as our primary pacing threat,” Penney said.

Fifth-generation aircraft such as the F-22 and F-35 were conceived at a time when the United States military still had a Europe and NATO-focused mindset, Hinote said.

“The [F-35] requirements were basically developed right after the Cold War,” Hinote said. “It’s a short-range fighter. That makes total sense in NATO, where you’ve got hundreds of runways everywhere to operate off of. It makes no sense in the Pacific, where the situation is much different [and] you only have a few runways to operate off of.”

It needs to be able to communicate without giving its position away, Hinote said, and it must be able to carry larger payloads than fifth-generation aircraft carry today.

“That allows you to get to a position in the battlespace and the airspace where you can enforce your will through the use of force, if necessary, the concept of air superiority,” Hinote said.

A B-21 Raider conducts flight testing, which includes ground testing, taxiing, and flying operations, at Edwards Air Force Base, California. The B-21 will interoperate with our allies and partners to deliver on our enduring commitment to provide flexible strike options for coalition operations that defend us against common threats. (Courtesy photo)

And the ability to maintain a plane without damaging its stealth coating will be crucial, Penney said.

Early versions of stealth technology on aircraft such as the F-117A Nighthawk and B-2 Spirit bomber were delicate and difficult to maintain, she said.

Stealth has made considerable leaps forward over the years to be more practical and reliable, Penney said, and a sixth-gen fighter’s stealth capabilities also need to take another step forward to be maintainable and provide better performance.

Hinote and Penney said the next generation of aircraft must both take in large amounts of detailed data and fuse it in a way that sorts out the battlespace.

A sixth-gen aircraft “should be able to not only have those advanced sensors, not just forward looking, but side and aft, looking across [multiple] phenomena” such as radar, infrared and other frequencies, Penney said.

And the Air Force wants NGAD to team up with AI-operated drone wingmen known as collaborative combat aircraft, or CCA, as part of the “family of systems” concept. CCAs could carry out strike missions, jam enemy radars, conduct recon, or even serve as decoys.

The Air Force has so far planned for NGAD to have a new type of propulsion system known as an adaptive engine, which can shift to different, more efficient configurations depending on the flying situation. Pratt & Whitney and General Electric Aerospace are each developing their own adaptive engines as part of the Next-Generation Adaptive Propulsion program.

An adaptive engine, however, would be very expensive, Hinote said. And with serious budget crunches prompting the Air Force to reconsider its plans and designs for NGAD, the service is considering whether to scale down its engine to bring NGAD’s price down.

Air Force Secretary Frank Kendall said in a June interview with Defense News that making NGAD’s engine smaller and less complex is an option being considered.

But better dogfighting ability would likely not be on the wish list for sixth-generation fighters, Hinote said. He does not expect those aircraft to have advancements in slow-speed maneuverability or an emphasis on cannons that would allow fighters to go toe-to-toe in relatively close quarters.

“The F-22 can get a high [angle of attack] in ways we’ve never seen,” Hinote said. “The Sukhoi Su-57, same thing. I don’t think it’s relevant for enforcing air superiority in the Pacific.”

The Defense Department does not keep a hard-and-fast taxonomy of aircraft generations. But in 2017, a spokesman at Joint Base Langley-Eustis in Virginia took a crack at it.

In his column, Jeffrey Hood of the 633rd Air Base Wing’s public affairs office said the first generation of fighter jets that emerged following World War II took advantage of novel jet technology and swept wings, as opposed to the perpendicular wings that were previously standard. But those fighters, such as the F-86 Sabre, were limited to sub-sonic speeds and machine guns.

All that changed after Chuck Yeager broke the sound barrier in 1947. This opened the door to a second generation of jets, such as the F-104 Starfighter, that could break Mach 1 and even Mach 2, and carry on-board radar and air-to-air missiles, Hood wrote.

The third generation — which included the Vietnam-era F-4 Phantom — incorporated advanced radars and better guided missiles that could engage enemies beyond visual range. After that came the F-14 Tomcat, F-15 Eagle, F-16 Fighting Falcon, and F-18 Hornet — fourth-generation fighters that can maneuver at high G-forces, use digital data links to share information, track multiple targets, and strike surface targets using lasers or GPS guidance.

In a 2016 study published by the Mitchell Institute for Aerospace Studies, now-retired Gen. Jeff Harrigian said fifth-generation fighters such as the F-22 and F-35 include stealth, improved self-defense, sensing, and jamming abilities, integrated avionics, and more.

And depending on one’s perspective, the first sixth-generation aircraft could already be flying.

Northrop Grumman has touted its B-21 Raider bomber as the first sixth-gen aircraft. In an interview with Defense News before the B-21′s 2022 rollout, a Northrop official said the bomber’s cutting edge stealth, use of open systems architecture, and use of advanced networking and data sharing technologies to connect sensors to shooters across multiple domains make it “the first of the sixth-gen systems.”

Those abilities are probably enough for the B-21 to qualify as a sixth-generation aircraft, Penney said, though she said its high levels of classification make it hard for outside observers to gauge whether it lives up to the hype.

Hinote looks at Northrop’s claims with a bit more skepticism and thinks it’s more of a marketing angle, but notes these generational definitions are largely matters of opinion.

“If they want to call it sixth-generation, sure,” Hinote said. “I don’t necessarily believe that the stealth characteristics and the open architecture of the B-21 automatically makes it a generational change in what we’ve got. It’s an incremental step, it’s a good step, I’m glad that we’re doing it, but it’s probably not so big that it’s truly generational.”

Stephen Losey is the air warfare reporter for Defense News. He previously covered leadership and personnel issues at Air Force Times, and the Pentagon, special operations and air warfare at Military.com. He has traveled to the Middle East to cover U.S. Air Force operations.

@Aviationweek via X

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[sinhoarder]

🍓 & 🍄for the ask game :D

🍓 what's your favorite thing you own in real life that reminds you of/is about your F/O?

Since my last ask reflected Edward, I do have some merch of Greed as well. My favorite is my most recent purchase of a standee of him, he has a really cool dynamic pose!

🍄 do you selfship with an AU version of your F/O, or with the canon version of them?

Both, I love the canon versions of all my favorites, though I like to do modern AUs or change the character's outfits things like that haha

[londonspirit]

Avast ye, Monkey D. Luffy! Our Flag Means Death creator David Jenkins has arrrr-rated words for you and the rest of the One Piece-hunting crew that's headlining Netflix's blockbuster live-action version of the long-running Japanese manga and anime series. "We got there first," Jenkins boasts to Yahoo Entertainment about his own fan-favorite pirate series, now entering its second season on Max. "One Piece is jumping on our bandwagon!"

Before you One Piecers send Jenkins some poisoned Devil Fruit, be aware that he's only joking. "There's room for plenty of pirate shows," the writer says with a smile. "It's funny — I was never into pirate stuff before this series. I was like, 'Only 8-year-olds like pirates!' But now I love it when I see people dressed up as characters from our show. It makes me so happy that it makes people feel cool."

It helps, of course, that Jenkins can lay claim to having two of the coolest contemporary comic minds aboard Our Flag Means Death. Thor: Ragnarok mastermind Taika Waititi is both an executive producer and star of the series, playing legendary 18th century plunderer Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard, while Flight of the Conchords scene-stealer Rhys Darby portrays another famed seafarer Stede Bonnet, aka the Gentleman Pirate. In real life, the duo terrorized the Caribbean for roughly a year until Bonnet met the Grim Reaper at the end of a noose in 1718.

But nothing so grim happens in Our Flag Means Death. Instead, Jenkins's series offers a fractured fairy-tale version of a pirate's life that makes room for plenty of romance... especially between Stede and Edward. It's no accident that the series has become colloquially known as "the gay pirate show" among its passionate fanbase since its March 2022 premiere. That's an identity that Jenkins is proud to embrace.

"To me, it's just a pirate show, but if you want to call it the 'gay pirate show' or 'the pirate rom-com,' I love it," he says. "Whatever you call it, as long as you're celebrating it and it makes you feel seen, then it's such an honor."

As Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate set sail to continue their love story in Season 2, we asked Jenkins three questions about overseeing one of the streaming era's most viral hits.

1. Rhys Darby and Taika Waititi aren't gay in real life — did you have any concerns about casting them in the series amid the ongoing debate over straight actors playing gay characters?

It's definitely something we talked about going into the show. I'm not gay, either, but one of the things we discussed was: "What does the writers' room look like?" And "Are we listening to them?" So I have to credit our writer's room, because they are so diverse and they serve us wonderfully.

The Stead and Blackbeard relationship has always been the core of why I wanted to make the show. Historically, it's clear that these guys seem like they were together [as a couple], but the descriptions of it [at the time] made it seem like they were just hanging out. In making the series, we're able to zero in on those little micro-moments of "they're growing closer!" And the chemistry between Taika and Rhys is is really lovely. They've known each for 20 years now, so that chemistry is very real. When you see them playing a scene together, it's excites all of us and it makes us realize, "I want to see these two people fall in love."

Also, we don't know what spectrum of queerness Stead and Blackbeard fall on as characters. Do they see themselves as gay? Does it matter? You'd have to ask Rhys and Taika how they're playing it. But I think one of the values of the show is that it's less about their individual queer identity and more about their love for each other. I think we can tell these stories, because we all know what it feels like to want someone and be wanted back, and allow ourselves to be vulnerable and scared of being rejected. As long as that's at the core of the show, that's what's gratifying.

2. You've said that you have a three-season arc in mind. Do you think you'll get to tell it?

That's way above my pay grade. If Max feels like they'd like us to hang around and would be kind enough to grace us with a third season, that'd be fantastic. And if not, I think we leave Season 2 in a place that people will be happy with. Nobody owes us a third season — the fact that we go to make two of these is a joy. I mean, we got to make two seasons of a weird pirate show where we put on costumes on played on these sets!

But it was clear to me that this story could only be three seasons, and I was shocked that Taika wanted to do it, because I know he's so busy. What was important for me was to present a very emotionally young couple in the first season and what happens to them, followed by a more mature couple in Season 2 who are learning to ask: "Are we a thing? What do we want to be?"

And then the third season would be about what happens when the couple is a little bit older and maybe they try to run a business together. How does that go? How do they keep the relationship together? Seeing stuff like that in a fantasy setting between these two characters would be great, because there's a lot of naturalistic stories you can do in this comedy world. I want to see them hang onto each other as they movie into a different phase of their lives.

3. Our Flag Means Death has one of the most dedicated fanbases around and they're also extremely online. Do you and the writers ever worry that you're giving them what they want a little too much?

Well, we're all fans of the show in the writers' room, too, so there's not much of a difference. It's funny when people call things "fanfic" because it's all just "fic"! If you're sitting there writing pages, it's fic. So it doesn't feel like we're looking at things online and going, "What will the fans like?" We know what we like in the room and if there's a development we can hit on that we're excited about, we all kind of sit up. We like the world that we're building.

In the course of making the show, I've met fans individually and I think the overwhelming thing I've come away with is that when somebody tells you that they now have the language for themselves that they otherwise never would have had, it's such a great feeling. Or they say that they can watch the show with their parents and enjoy it. That's a credit to our non-binary writers and performers that are able to put that on camera in a way that made somebody feel safe. I almost don't know how to respond to it. I mean, the only response is, "Thank you." But there's no greater compliment than that.

[agentnico]

The Beast/La Bête (2024) review

Dolls, Blue Moon and… pigeons.

Plot: In the near future where emotions have become a threat, Gabrielle finally decides to purify her DNA in a machine that will immerse her in her previous lives and rid her of any strong feelings. She then meets Louis and feels a powerful connection, as if she has known him forever. A melodrama crossed by the genre, which unfolds over three distinct periods, 1910, 2014 and 2044.

Essentially this is a film that covers every genre possible. From *deep breath* melodrama to romance to thriller to mystery to sci-fi to drama to psychological to surrealism… the list goes on. It is so difficult to stick The Beast (or La Bête as the French title goes) into a specific box, as it’s so many things all at once. This is a bold and audacious piece of filmmaking from French director Bertrand Bonello, based on a Henry James short story/novells “The Beast in the Jungle”. However this film is anything but short. At over 2 and a half hours, this takes you on a disorientating, divergent and daring odyssey through time, and it is both bombastically incredible yet also highly frustrating. Look, this didn’t completely burn out my eye-sockets like Edward Yang’s 1991 epic magnum opus A Brighter Summer Day that was 4 flipping hours long! Don’t get me wrong, that movie has novelistic level of richness in character, narrative and depth, but at that runtime you’re taking the actual mick! So The Beast is nowhere on that scale, but it is definitely a movie that will challenge you mentally, and will make you question everything.

Exhausting is a word I’d choose to use when describing this film. Not in a negative way, but more so how it throws so much at you, but doesn’t explain the half of it. In fact it is very Lynchian in its absurdist style, and reminded me in some ways of Mullholland Drive - a movie at the end of which I too found myself asking the simple yet well earned question of “what the actual f***??”. The Beast feels, especially at the beginning, as if it should have been a piece of poetry, as scenes were happening, and even though there was the loose narrative connection of them being various versions of characters’ past lives, for the most part it seemed like a cluster of random allegorical shorts squeezed together in an anthological format. In the end it does come together granted, but as a collective Parnassus package this movie isn’t supposed to work. It can easily be called out for being pretentious and convoluted and slow, but I do believe this thing somehow, for no genuine explanation, works! It’s a baffling interweaving of the intimate and the spectacular, classicism and modernity, known vs the unknown, yet at this core this is a love story, that is expressed in its varied forms. Essentially The Beast is the answer to the ideology of human connection. Deep.

Wes Anderson darling/Bond girl Lea Seydoux is truly magnetic in this role. She delivers so much through her eyes, and I felt every emotion, even in scenes where I was completely narratively lost. This is easily her best performance I’ve seen from her. George MacKay has less to work with, as he’s more of a foil to Seydoux’s counterpart, but his chemistry with her is solid, and also in the LA segment he absolutely nails this incel character called Louis Lewanski who blogs/monologues on his iPhone about hatred towards women. It’s a performance that is suffused with pitch black humour and a mounting sense of dread. Both Seydoux and MacKay are incredible in this, but also I must applaud the look of this movie. Each shot feels like it should be a painting in a museum. The use of colour to the camera set up to the angle and blocking, with pitch perfect set designs and costumes, this movie looks crisp. The imagery somewhat reflects the movie’s focus on visions and dreams, and honestly this may be the most beautiful looking film this year.

La Bête will stick in my brain and haunt me for a long while, and in fact with how AI is such a current majorly spoken about topic, it does make one wonder if we do become overly reliant on artificial intelligence, will we lose all that is necessary to the human spirit - our emotions, our fears, our doubts? Additionally, the psychological idea of fear and that behind everything that we’re afraid of there is a wish, and the romantic ideal of persistent love…. gosh, this movie is sublime! I do think in parts it does get up its own arse, don’t get me wrong, but this is the type of movie that has something to say, and also is very much the kind of film Letterboxd users would quote as “THIS IS CINEMA!”.

Overall score: 8/10

[mikaharuka]

Femslash Ships to Get to Know Me

As I figured she would, Annie (@udaberriwrites) went and tagged me for the other half of my list! You can find the M/M post over here~

**Rules**: Name at least five (but no upper limit) femslash (F/F) ships you love. Each from a different fandom.

1 - Twilight & Life and Death

I'd be quite remiss if I didn't mention the two femslash ships I'm writing right now - Rosalie/Eleanor (Elle) and Alice/Jessamine (Mina)! Like with the slash pairs I'm writing in that world, Carlisle/Beau and Edward/Mike, I didn't ship them at first (despite being the femslash version of canon pairs)... but as I wrote on, I ended up loving them!

2 - Teen Wolf

Well, my undisputed femslash OTP is Allydia (Allison/Lydia), and I love them so much that they inspired how I went about writing the above sapphic vampire ships! Also, I almost chose Teen Wolf instead of Twilight/Life and Death for my worldbuilding concept, and if I had, I'd be writing Allydia and my slash OTP, Steter, right now.

3 - Fire Emblem Three Houses

There are quite a few femslash FE3H ships I love, but my favorite is definitely Edelthea (Edelgard/Dorothea). In fact, three years ago, I started writing a Beauty and the Beast AU and it was supposed to include both Edelthea and Ferdibert (Hubert/Ferdinand) as the main ships, but that plan went bust when I left the fandom soon after >.>

4 - Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Oh, my love, MadoHomu (Kaname Madoka/Akemi Homura)! This pair of tragic lesbians really has my heart. I remember being stuck on them for months after I finished watching the anime... and honestly, I saw the potential for the ship to be written in an even darker manner, though it's not something I found all that often in the fandom.

5 - Ace Attorney

Salty and Momo might be shocked, but I've shipped FranMaya (Franziska von Karma/Maya Fey) for quite a while! They were the second ship I fell into after Narumitsu, in fact... but I will say that Momo's way of writing that pair definitely had me falling more into the pair than I had before! I'm also a major fan of Mia Fey/Lana Skye - there's just something powerful about that duo~

...

Huh... I can't pin out as many similarities between my femslash ships as I could with my slash ships. All those ladies have some dark stuff going on... but unlike with some of the slash ships, the dark and/or ambiguous stuff is more in the surroundings than the dynamic itself.

Oh, but they all have that magic/supernatural component to them! Vampires in #1, werewolves and banshees in #2, magic in #3, magical girl stuff in #4, and spirits and possession in #5, so...

Tagging @axolotlsupremacyowo @alpaca-clouds @sliebman10 @kayedium-writes @tamras-shieldmaiden @aislinnstanaka @mrsmungus and the open tag as always.

[jamieaiken919]

✍️💞🏷️🌦️📝 For the ask game, maybe both for Codz and Mst3k perhaps?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HI @shinmiyovvi IVE GOT ANSWERS FOR THESE FINALLY!!! I’m gonna put it behind a cut just because it’s long, but HERE WE GO!!!

So first up we’ve got Call of Duty Zombies, and my always beloved Edward!

✍️: Overall, how does the fandom trait you? Are you a beloved character, or hated? Are you popular, or a minor side character? Anything in between?

I hope the fandom traits me well… I’ve already seen what happens when they don’t lol. Hopefully I’d be relatively popular, considering I’m stuck in with the main crews.

💞: Aside from with your f/o, who else would you commonly be shipped with? Why?

UH. EXCELLENT QUESTION LOL. Maybe Takeo???

🏷️: What is you and your f/o’s ship name?

Fox and Bun! Or The Fox and The Bun in longer form lol. I’m the fox, he’s the bunny!

🌦️: Would you be accompanied by mostly fluff or angst fanfics? Both? Explain why.

Ooh, good question… hopefully fluff! I’m not and angst type of person- I’m the one that hopefully brings a little bit of light to the whole situation, and I hope that it would translate into how others perceive me.

📝: How would your story in canon go? How would you influence the events of the original story?

UM. I haven’t actually thought a whole lot about me being in their story, honestly. I spend so much time with my modern AU that I haven’t thought about it the other way around! BUT- I’m definitely an American, warped from my modern day back to their time and universe, and stumbled upon by the ultimis crew. I carry on with them on their adventures until the primis crew comes across us, and through thorough convincing I tell them to ignore the stupid fucking book and work together to defeat the real problem. Oh yeah and the Richtofens fall in love with me of course lol.

AND NOW- Mystery Science Theater 3000, and my sweet Mikey Moo!

✍️: Overall, how does the fandom trait you? Are you a beloved character, or hated? Are you popular, or a minor side character? Anything in between?

I really hope I would be trained well… I’d kinda have to be a main character by design, so I really hope I’d make a good impression on the fandom.

💞: Aside from with your f/o, who else would you commonly be shipped with? Why?

OH IVE GOT AN IDEA FOR THIS LMAO. I’m gonna say either Dr. Clayton Forrester or Observer! (he’s also nicknamed Brain Guy lol)

🏷️: What is you and your f/o’s ship name?

Space Age Love Song! (which is the title of a song by the band A Flock of Seagulls- huge thank you to @maninthebox242 for thinking of that!)

🌦️: Would you be accompanied by mostly fluff or angst fanfics? Both? Explain why.

FLUFF. Mike and I are both awkward little beans and that alone lends itself to fluff galore. Add in the fact that we’ve got two wisecracking little robots as roommates and that lends itself even more to the fluff!

📝: How would your story in canon go? How would you influence the events of the original story?

SO. A lot of this isn’t gonna make much sense without knowing the backstory of the show, but I’ll give the cliffsnotes version lol- after Dr. Forrester’s assistant leaves him, he’s in search of a new assistant, which is where I come in. I’m mostly in the background though, so Mike doesn’t see much of me during his communications with Clayton. It’s only when Clayton’s mother Pearl starts to come around that trouble starts to happen. She thinks my presence is softening her son, and despite his protests, she takes it upon herself to send me up to the Satellite of Love to be a part of the MST3K experiment. This is when Mike and I first properly meet, and we almost immediately start harboring tiny little crushes on each other. Of course, Crow and Servo are in complete disbelief over this lol. But as we spend more time on the SoL together, we grow closer too. And the little crushes turn into big crushes lol.

[wonderfulworldofdarklords]

(Sorry for getting the Tumblr link up late! The weekend has been full of family stuff. Good, but busy.)

Welcome to Wonderful World of Darklords! Second edition already did a Jungle Book-inspired domain with the Wildlands, but it didn't make the jump into 5e and it had some key differences from its source material, which means that this movie is as ripe for picking as a pawpaw or a prickly pear (as opposed to classic Disney movies that are already covered in 5e by certain Dementlieus we can name). As a heads up, we love both the classic animated Jungle Book and the 2016 live-action version, so we're going to be bringing in elements from both. Topics discussed include:

Why we feel it's crucial that the humans in the man village be much more innocent than humans typically are in a man-versus-nature story;

The rich potential of a setting that has so many NPCs with their own agendas, from Bagheera, the vultures, and the wolves to Kaa, King Louie, and old stripes himself;

"Aging-down" ideas for allowing an entire party of Mowglis, each raised by different animals;

The style of campaign we've barely discussed in this podcast that fits Jungle Book like tiny red shorts;

and more!

The full writeup for the Seeonee is available for free on DM's Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/product/464028/Mowglis-Jungle-A-Ravenloft-Domain-of-Dread-01-13?view_as_pub=1

All music recordings are in the public domain (mark 1.0) and are licensed through https://musopen.org:

Chopin Nocturne in B-Flat Minor, Op. 9 No.1 (main theme), performed by Eduardo Vinuela

Chopin Etude Op. 25, No. 12 in C Minor: “Ocean” (darklord theme), performed by Edward Neeman

Chopin Nocturne in F Minor, Op. 55 No. 1 (land theme), performed by Luke Faulkner

Rachmaninoff Morceaux de Fantaisie, Op. 3 - 2. Prélude in C sharp minor (Dread Possibilities), performed by Sergei Rachmaninoff

Chopin Nocturne in E Minor, Op. 72 No. 1 (parting thoughts), performed by Luke Faulkner

Dialog for Yensid was written by Azalin Rex himself @darklordazalin

The Wonderful World of Darklords logo was designed by Halite Jones, whom you can find @halite-jones or on Instagram at http://www.instagram.com/insta_halite

Contact us on:

Gmail: wonderfulworldofdarklords@gmail.com

Facebook: @wonderfulworldofdarklords

Patreon: www.patreon.com/WonderfulWorldofDarklords

[strangedreamings]

E5. Right off the bat, Mrs. Ferrars is a huge bitch. Who cares which kid is taller? They're both growing so their current heights won't matter in about a month or two. Talking down to the young women like that is poor, poor manners on Mrs. F's part. Lady, the only reason anyone, and I do mean anyone, puts up with you is because of your money. If you were as poor as the Dashwood ladies, no one would give you the time of day.

Robert's a Karen. He takes after his mother. I'd feel sorry for Lucy but he's exactly what she deserves.

Lucy hanging on Mrs. Ferrars' every word like she's the Queen or something. Lucy, dear, do something about your nose -- it's awfully brown. Mrs. F is acting like she's interviewing governesses. Wow. No manners and no class either. It's amazing that no one has ever slapped this woman.

Lucy can't tell the difference between a genuine cough and covering a laugh with a cough. She's manipulative and conniving, but not very bright. It's quite a feat.

"Your brother's old wife." Old? Lucy, bite your fucking tongue, Fanny is probably in her late twenties, certainly not older than mid-thirties. Old, my ass.

Lucy saying she's to "look after" John and Fanny's kid. So she IS going to be a governess, just apparently an unpaid one? (Or maybe "au pair" is a better term here.) Lucy, open your damn eyes.

Ooo, Lucy's hinting that Mrs. F doesn't like Elinor and there's no hope for her. Bitch. You'd think she'd learn that you catch more flies with honey, but I guess she's emulating Mrs. F in all things.

Edward drops in, now he's facing the woman he loves and the woman he's engaged to. I'd feel sorry for you, dude, but you brought this on yourself.

I'm surprised Lucy isn't picking up on the UTTER DISDAIN Elinor feels for her and is barely disguising. But then, Lucy doesn't see below the surface of anyone.

"Some ladies do age quickly." Good God, you're hopeless, Lucy. Elinor is 19 and looks it. You are incapable of speaking about another woman, even ones who aren't your rivals, without insulting them, aren't you?

I'd wager that this Lucy is worse than all the versions that come after her. A truly unpleasant woman. Even when she's supposed to be friendly, she fails miserably.

She really doesn't get that Edward is inching away from her emotionally. Edward, just rip the bandage off, this is ridiculous.

Marianne has joined them. The actress is overenunciating every line. Honestly, I don't think she's a good actress. She's also deepened her voice to sound more serious or whatever but it just sounds fake.

Between Marianne staring him down and Lucy's simpering, I'm surprised Edward hasn't run yet. "I really must go." Ha! I knew it!

Lucy's ridiculously huge white muff and Marianne's ugly brown dress make me wonder what drugs the costume designer was on. Whatever they were, they weren't good enough.

"Goodbye, Edward." Elinor's treating him like one of the family instead of a suitor. She's truly given up.

"the lady of Henry Palmer, Esquire" Proof that whoever wrote this screenplay didn't pay close attention to the book -- that very line in the book has Mr. Palmer's first name as THOMAS, not Henry. WTF?

"Mrs. Jennings, a grandmother." Um, Fanny, Mrs. Jennings already has grandkids by her daughter Lady Middleton. Seriously, this screenwriter is full of shit.

Anne's as talkative as Charlotte and Mrs. Jennings but she needs to learn when to shut up.

Fanny's having the mother of all conniptions. She actually called the Steele girls sluts. That's definitely NOT in the book. I doubt Ms. Austen ever used that word. It existed in her time but she had more class than that. Somebody get me the screenwriter, I just want to talk. I definitely prefer Fanny '95's freak out over this woman's guttural screeching.

Marianne finally realizing what Elinor has been going through while she was too busy moaning about Willoughby. I hope this reality check hurts, girl. It's high time you realized the world does not revolve around you and your mood swings.

"Lucy does not want sense" Elinor, have you MET Lucy?

"You've made me hate myself forever." Finally, a fucking breakthrough. Shut up, Marianne.

Does John really think that just because he's married into the Ferrars family, that means his half-sisters have to kowtow to Mrs. F too? He's so full of shit and the girls call him on it, thankfully.

[meddling-in-horror]

speak to me, o murder child: analyzing child ballad 13

A lot of people who listen to folk music normally do not know where the songs they listen to and love come from. Because of this, the general populace of folk fans are unaware that the majority of the popular folk music that they listen to can be attributed to the work of one man. Beginning in the late 1860s, a Harvard professor by the name of Francis James Child began the arduous process of editing and publishing what would eventually be considered his masterwork, The English and Scottish Popular Ballads. The collection — now colloquially referred to as the Child ballads — was published in ten separate volumes beginning in 1882, and contains a total of 305 ballads with varied versions from across the European continent. A vast number of these ballads have become entrenched in popular culture through being adapted into various folk songs. While there are many that I would like to discuss, it is my intent to focus on the thematic elements and origins of ballad 13, also known as ‘Edward’.

My reasoning behind choosing ballad 13 is a simple one: it was the first ballad I ever heard in song form, and was released by a band that I greatly admire. The original version of goth fusion folk band American Murder Song’s song “Edward” was released in 2016 on the first of their four debut EPs, called I. Dawn. The band then released an alternate version of the song two years later on their album The Killing Place, with a differing tone and heavily modified arrangement.  While these particular versions were heavily modified to fit the aesthetic of the band, the ballad and its origins as detailed by Child were far different.

Child details three versions of the ballad in volume one of the collection, though I will be focusing my attention on version B. Child took version B from Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our earlier Poets by Thomas Percy, which was published in 1765, making it the oldest recorded version of the ballad.  ‘Edward’ is formatted as a call-and-response in the two complete versions noted by Child, but version B differs in that it chooses to keep the refrains within the verses, giving it the feel of something more akin to an epic poem than a typical ballad. This particular trait also makes this version far easier to translate into a musical format due to the flow that already exists.

While American Murder Song has their own version of ‘Edward’, the traditional Celtic folk band Old Blind Dogs has their own. What sets Old Blind Dog’s rendition of ‘Edward’ apart for me was the choice to perform it in the old English as translated by Child. While it creates a more authentic listening experience, I feel it also allows for a deeper understanding of the ballad’s thematic elements, as hearing the ballad out loud can often assist in a higher understanding of the text. Ballad 13 tells the story of a young man named Edward — though he is called Davie in version A — who goes to his mother’s house with his sword dripping with blood; after making several excuses about the origin of the blood, he finally admits to murdering either his father or his brother for unknown reason, causing the mother to lament and ask what his punishment will be. Child notes that the themes of ballad 13 are found in two other ballads within the collection, ‘The Twa Brothers’ and ‘Lizie Wan’. Versions D, E, F, and G of ‘The Twa Brothers’, or ballad 49, bear the most striking similarities in theme to ballad 13, with similar verses in regards to the call-and-response conversation between a son and mother, as well as the same consequences for the actions of the main character. These same ideas are echoed in both versions of ballad 51, ‘Lizie Wan’, though the story discussed within that particular ballad is a far darker and more controversial variation than what is noted in ballads 13 and 49.

Child’s large collection of ballads has been planted deep within popular culture. Mainly seen within traditional and folk music, the prevalence of The English and Scottish Popular Ballads tends to go largely unnoticed. Unfortunately, due to the sheer size of the collection — which is the largest selection of traditional ballads to date at 305 — there are many that must be left out when attempting to analyze these ballads. However, it does allow me to focus on the ballads that contain the most important structural thematic elements and origins found throughout the collection, which is why I chose to focus first on ballad 13.

Notes:

The initial collection was published in 1860, though the full collection of 305 ballads did not begin publication until 1882. The collection was not finished, however, until 1898, two years after Child passed.

The folk revival of the 1960s sparked a resurgence of balladeering. Most notably, there is a collection of acapella recordings of various Child ballads from the United Kingdom. This collection contains perhaps the most well known version of ballad 13, Paddy Tunney’s recording of “What Put the Blood?”, also known as “What Put the Blood on Your Right Shoulder, Son?”. However, more modern and popular artists like Kate Bush (who’s 1978 debut album The Kick Inside’s title song is inspired by ballad 51) and Anaïs Mitchell (who released an album in 2013 titled Child Ballads, which contained seven musical adaptations of various ballads in the collection) have continued the tradition of adapting these ballads.

The original version of this ballad features only Zdunich and Hendelman as the vocalists. The song was later featured on a compilation album titled Murder Ballads of 1816: The Year Without Summer, which combined all four albums in the series ( I. Dawn, II. Providence, III. The Reckoning, and IV. Wake).

This particular version of Edward is very different from the original, in that it is not sung in its entirety by Zdunitch and Hendelman. It features a child as the main singer, as well as a female chorus of background singers.

All ballads within the collection have at least two variations noted by Child. However, some versions of the ballad are either incomplete, styled as nursery or skipping rope rhymes, or are simply separately chronicled lyrical and textual variations of that particular ballad.

In addition to being the oldest recorded version of the ballad, it is also written in the original old English dialect. In its translation, Child makes several changes to make the text more readable for its new modern audience. This included some major edits to the ballad’s archaic English as Percy transcribed, such as changing ‘quhy’ to a more standard ‘why’ and ‘zour’ to the standardized ‘your’.

Sources:

Child, Francis James, ed. The English and Scottish Popular Ballads: Part I. Cambridge, Ma: The Riverside Press, 1882.

Child, Francis James, ed. The English and Scottish Popular Ballads: Part II. Cambridge, Ma: The Riverside Press, 1884.

Percy, Thomas. “Edward, Edward: A Scottish Ballad.” In Reliques of Ancient English Poetry: Consisting of Old Heroic Ballads, Songs, and other Pieces of our earlier Poets, edited by Thomas Percy, 53-56. London: J. Dodsley in Pall-Mall, 1765.

Malcolm, Jim, lead singer/guitar/harmonica. The World’s Room. Recorded by Old Blind Dogs, 1999. Green Linnet - GLCD 1201, 1999. Digital download.

Zdunich, Terrence and Saar Hendelman, vocalists/composers. I. Dawn. Recorded by American Murder Song, 2016. American Murder Song, LLC., 2016. Digital download.

Zdunich, Terrence, Saar Hendelman, et al., vocalists/composers. The Killing Place. Recorded by American Murder Song, 2018. American Murder Song, LLC., 2018. Digital download.