#aspec reader

[rivalswrites]

Okay sososoosos I don't know if your post was sarcasm or not but AGHHH I've had this idea for Johnny and Ben for like actual years (Fantastic Four 2005 the brainrot you gave me) and have never gotten around to writing it

Think about Johnny and Ben separately with a reader that's on the aro and ace spectrum because they don't experience aesthetic attraction. So, looks literally just don't even matter to them. I can imagine it would be a good thing because both Ben and Johnny have people constantly focusing on their looks, just for different reasons. (But you know Johnny would be like 'I look this good and you don't even appreciate it??? 😞😞')

Not anyone's type

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Aro-Ace reader!! I kinda just made this general aromantic instead of mainly aesthetic/look attraction, whoopsies.

Johnny is a flirt, through and through, anyone and everyone he deems good enough (which is just about everyone) will and has been flirted with. He's used to being put down and rejected, but he's never encountered someone who's just- plain never been interested in romantics. Especially when they're so fine.

When he's turned down he plays it off, usually just going back in for more- but you just kept shooting him down!

Most of his flirting is playful, so he really doesn't mean most of it when he pushes for you to go on a date with him; though he wouldn't mind if you said yes…

You'd have to sit him down and explain it very thoroughly to him, and even then you'd probably have to get Sue on his back about it to get him to fully stop if it genuinely bothered you- knowing if he was playing around or not wouldn't matter.

“C'mon sweetheart! Just one date with this hot shot-” Johnny pointed his thumbs at himself “and you'll be begging for more by the end of it.” His smirk doesn't flinch when you don't even look at his direction- pretending not to hear him.

Johnny wasn't usually a begger, but not even getting a reaction out of someone for his flirting hurt his ego in a way.

“Please! Just one little dinner date, doesn't even have to be somewhere nice.” His hands were up in a prayer, and he was practically on his knees looking up at you.

When you finally turned around to look at him, his eyes lit up- thinking finally! he had a chance you'd say yes. He waited oh so patiently to hear your acceptance to his date, “Susan! Get the spray bottle, your brother won't leave me alone!” And he fell dramatically to the floor as he watched you walk away.

Ben is a great guy, almost anyone who's met him- at least in the same side, and excluding hulk- has seen that. He's polite and has a great sense of humor, what a package deal!

He hasn't really had the greatest luck with romance, not since he's turned into- well- a pile of rocks, but after a long time of adjusting he's learned to deal with it. If anything he's gained confidence in his looks- if a beautiful woman like Susan can be interested in a workaholic like Reed, someone could be interested in him.

When he meets you it's all sunshine and rainbows to him, he swore a love song was playing in the background- but maybe that was just Johnny's playlist. Obviously the way to express his feelings is by making a move, so he does. He's offering you flowers, telling you that your outfit is nice- that you look nice, the whole shebang.

It's almost hard to let him down, to tell him you're not interested in that stuff at all. But ever the understander, Ben picks up on your explanation pretty quick and even apologizes for if he's ever made you uncomfortable. And while it's hard for a while for him to get over it, he's alright with just having another friend to hang out with.

He holds out a couple tulips to you, offering a patient smile as he does so. “Ben, we talked about this, I'm not-” he cuts you off. “I know, this ain't like that, I just-” now he cuts himself off “I like giving flowers to friends.”

Ben scratches at his head, looking off behind you, he was so scared you'd think he was lying. “Ask anyone! I give them to Reed and Suzie all the time.” You give him a laugh “none for Johnny?” He scoffs in return “the prick doesn't deserve anything nice from me- or anyone for that matter.”

You burst out laughing, taking the flowers from him and cradling them in your arms. He smiles again and joins in with your laughter - you both knew he was dead serious though. Never had he ever gifted Johnny something nice.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

logan howlett x asexual!reader

notes: fluff, mentions of sex, kissing, nuanced take on asexuality.

It took you a long time to say yes to going out with Logan.

And it wasn’t simply a case of you ‘playing hard to get’. You have no desire to be a fling. Sure, you recognize that objectively, he is hot! And you think to yourself, maybe you’d give him a shot if he didn’t just want to sleep with you.

So, for months, he pines. And it’s a rather new experience, he’s used to people just throwing themselves at him after a few flirty conversations, but it takes almost four months for you to even agree to go out with him.

When you do, he makes sure to put in his best effort—You two go out to a really nice dinner, and then you go on this long drive to a cliff side, and you lean against his motorcycle, holding hands as you look to the stars.

His heart thumps as your thumb gently rubs against his knuckles.

So the two of you date—

You kiss, you eat lunch together, you spend long nights with your hands running through his hair, reading to him.

But you don’t sleep with him.

He thinks maybe it’s a religious thing or maybe some weird fetish, like you think waiting will make it even better. But he doesn’t ask you about it, because he remembers how long it took you to go out with him, so he keeps it to himself.

Until one day, about seven months into your relationship.

The snow whirls outside the X-Mansion, the wind rattling your windows, as you curl up in bed, wrapped in his flannel, a couple of blankets and his arms.

“Can I ask you a question, Spitfire?” He wonders.

“Anything.” You answer, meaning it whole heartedly.

The Wolverine feels himself get nervous before he asks,

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” He asks, and you take a minute. You knew the conversation would happen eventually. Logan isn’t your first boyfriend, so you know that the people you’re with are owed an explanation. And you brace yourself—If he isn’t willing to listen to you on this, you’re ready to walk away.

You sit up so you can be looking at him—It’s rather intimate.

“I’m Asexual.” You answer.

A beat.

“A sexual what?”

You laugh a little, mostly because you think it’s silly, especially considering Logan isn’t straight (you see how he’s looked at Scott).

“No, Asexual—It means I experience little to no sexual attraction,” You answer, and he tilts his head.

He’s committed a lot of time to you already. The explanation sort of scares him, and he’s ready to run away but he stays put, not wanting you to think he can’t handle whatever it is you’ve just thrown at him—But he was born in the early 1800’s. Have a bit of grace for the man.

“Okay, What does that mean, though?” He asks, and you’re grateful he hasn’t broken up with you yet.

“So, I.. I really like you. I mean—I love you, Logan.” You confess, “But sex just.. isn’t something I need, especially not often. I get horny, It’s just.. Sex is different for me. I like making out with you, kissing you, touching you—and there might be times where I do want to have sex with you, probably to show my affection and grow closer to you—Sex isn’t procreation or pure pleasure to me, it’s something that I only like to do every once in a while and I do it as a way to get closer to whoever I love. Does that make sense?”

Logan nods. It does make sense—Sex isn’t your thing. And he knows historically, he’s been passed around by the other x-men like a blunt, but in dating you for a while, since you two haven’t slept together, he’s much more okay with that being more rare.

Sure, you’re both attracted to each other, and like you said, making out is really nice, but..

“Yeah.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, I just..” he takes your hands in his, trying to convey what it is he wants to communicate. “We’re more than just dating. At least to me. No one’s ever been in my corner like you, and.. I don’t just look at you in a physical manner, I.. I look over my shoulder for you when I see something stupid or fun, because I want to share everything with you. I know it’s been rocky at times, but..” He clears his throat. You see tears well in his eyes and you just smile, your hand detaching from his to wipe a tear that runs down his face.

“I know.” You say softly, and he smiles.

“I don’t need sex to love you.” He tells you. He kisses you gently and asks, “Don’t feel like that’s ever something I need, okay, spitfire?”

“Okay, Claws.”

//i don't know what else to say about this other than i know i write smut often and graphically but i am in fact asexual, so i wanted to throw my hat in the ring for writing not only a queer reader but a reader who is asexual. you deserve a place in fanfiction too. also, readers description of asexuality is based off my own, so please remember that asexuality isn't a one size fits all thing.

[icycoldninja]

Dante x Aspec Reader who still enjoys non sexual intimacy? (Very self indulgent ask ngl)

Not a problem! Enjoy!

Dante x Aspec!Reader intimacy headcannons

-Dante gets that you don't wanna do anything frisky or risky, so he doesn't try to instigate anything.

-Yes, he does get a little excited every now and then, but he deals with it himself.

-Loves to cuddle you, and you love it too.

-Holds you against his chest and rubs his hands up and down your arms or shoulders while mumbling about how much he loves you.

-Will help you bathe and/or shower without things getting weird. He does everything lovingly and gently, to the point that it seems a bit out of character for him.

-Hugs you all the time and kisses you all over so you know he loves you.

-Makes sure to tell you this all day, every day, without fail.

-Also shows his love through food, Asian mom style. Whenever you're feeling down, he shoves a plate of pizza into your hands and encourages you to eat up.

-Is always around to snuggle or chat, offering his ear if you ever want to empty your heart out to him.

-Is always going to be your loyal supporter, no matter what happens or what you need.

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Queerplatonic Riddler x Reader fanfic

Disclaimers:

I am not a good writer. I am simply making this because I am an aroace who loves the Riddler and and desperate for fanfiction that isn't romantic or sexual and I want it to exist in the world.

This is a bit out of character because I am simply not smart enough to write a genius and I am also not very good at riddles.

Some of it is very contrived, in particular the "worldbuilding" had to be crammed into fitting a pattern for reasons, so it is very janky.

Allos are allowed to interact but PLEASE BE MINDFUL THAT THIS ISN'T FOR YOU.

Also I'm English so there may be a couple of covert language differences if you're American (eg: saw a post where apparently in the US "quite" means very whereas here it's much less intense than that)

Rating: Probably teen

Warnings: Swearing (S and F word), whump (hurt reader), violence and injury, implied ableism, near-death experiences, robberies and hostage situations (not very dangerous)

Reader insert info: Oriented aroace, quoiromantic, autistic (hyperfixating on Riddler)

Word count: 5022

Please don't give me loads of criticism I'm not releasing this to improve at writing I'm releasing this because there's no representation.

You sit in your room, reading the Gotham Gazette. A small smile appears on your face; the news keeps talking about the new crime spree, courtesy of the Riddler. You’re lying on your green bedcovers, kicking your feet and giggling. It is quite sad that his latest bank robberies are going to severely affect the economy, but… look at him. He looks so happy in the CCTV footage. His smile is the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. You love the newspaper, as long as you don’t read the articles. There’s a lot of speculation about his mental state, and, while you do agree that his mental state is probably not great, some of the speculation… it wouldn’t feel out of place on an Autism Speaks advert. You use permanent marker and doodle question marks to hide the more offensive articles. With everything that’s left, you cut it out, glaring at the scissors that are leaving jagged edges even though it is probably just a skill issue. You use Blu Tack to stick it onto the board with all of the other articles and pictures, and pick up those which fell off. Five crimes so far. You scan the articles. The names of the locations… there must be something… Classy and Elegant, a store for wedding clothes, with lots of money… House-Dealing Special Princesses, the estate agents for posh people… River Bank Tower, a tower that was a historic location for money laundering and was converted into a tourist attraction… Worshipping Mr Batman, a Batman fan club with a large following, as well as founders who got very rich… and Rose Petal Association, a very wealthy gardeners’ club. The letters… they feel… familiar…

You quickly open Wikipedia. Hands shaking – you don’t know if it’s from nerves or excitement – you search for Elgar’s Enigma Variations. Your eyes widen. Classy and Elegant – C.A.E! House-Dealing Special Princesses – H.D.S-P! R.B.T! W.M.B! R.P.A! His crimes are all after Elgar’s Enigma variations! You’re stimming, at having solved this riddle. But where will he strike next? The next piece… Ysobel…

You open Google Maps. This isn’t simple initials, the piece is named after a full name… You search around, trying to find something that fits Ysobel…

It’s the next day. As usual, it is raining. You’re carrying a green umbrella, and hoping that, if he does show up, he won’t realise that you carved the handle into the shape of a question mark. Anxiety fills you – the establishment which should be the next target, is very… suspicious. Why So Bell, a supposed bell manufacturer which everybody knows is really a front for one of the Joker gangs’ hideouts. You glance around, nervously. There are legitimate shops next door, it should be safe, it should be safe…

You’re hiding in a bush, shaking. It hurts, there are probably lots of bugs, but… you can’t just loiter in the open next to a Joker-affiliated operation, but… you have to see the Riddler’s next crime. Your umbrella is hidden with you in the bush. You’re getting uncomfortably wet. You don’t think your glasses will ever recover from this experience. Half an hour passes, and you watch as people come and go from the buildings. An obvious gang member leaves Why So Bell. You are shaking in the bush as she walks towards you. Does she see you? She’s coming closer. Closer. Closer.

She yanks you out by the tip of your umbrella. You look up at her sheepishly, trembling. She responds by punching you in the face.

You wake up, and your heart leaps as you see your favourite colour, green. Your heart is then filled with terror. The green isn’t from your many pictures of the Riddler, the green is from a massive vat of acid, and you’re dangling right over it. “Who the fuck d’you work for?!” the gang member asks. “N-N-NO-ONE! I’M N-NOT A GANG MEMBER! PLEASE! TH-THERE’S BEEN A TERRIBLE MISUNDERSTANDING!!” you squeak, terrified. The gang members – three of them – laugh at you. “Why were you hiding in that bush?!” a Joker goon shouts at you, as you feel yourself being lowered towards the acid, “You’re a spy, aren’t ya?!” “PLEASE! PLEASE! I W-WASN’T SPYING! PLEASE! I W-WAS… I WAS JUST HIDING IN THE BUSH, W-W-WAITING FOR SOMEONE!!” “Yer lying!”

Your vision is being consumed by green, and not in the usual Riddler hyperfixation way, but in the way that you are about to die. You are whimpering, trying desperately to stammer out an explanation, but there is no way to explain anything in a way that does not make you look like an alloromantic stalker…

Suddenly, the power cuts out. You scream, thinking that this the end. The Joker goons are shouting, confused. There are sounds of a scuffle, and one of their panicked yelling is cut short. The other two are fighting something. “B-Batman?” you shriek, terrified. Every time the Riddler goes to Arkham, he seems to come back worse. If Batman is here, he will surely arrest the Riddler and send him to Arkham yet again. The sounds of the scuffle stop. You wait, hyperventilating. This is very bad, as you are starting to breathe in the fumes of the acid. It’s rather funny that you solved the riddle, and now Batman came here to save you but will surely arrest the Riddler. You can’t help but laugh at the fact that you solved it for Batman, it’s so funny, he’s going to rot in Arkham! Ha! You’re being lifted up, taken away from the green, just like how your hopes of ever seeing the silly green man have gone away! Now you’re being picked up! It’s funny, Batman’s arms seem nowhere near as muscular as they should be! Isn’t it funny that you’re still in the dark, the Dark Knight hasn’t turned the light on, because dark! Ha! Get it? “Ha… I’ve already done the work, Batman!” you laugh. “Don’t compare me to that pathetic man,” your saviour replies. It’s hilarious, you’re such an idiot, you’re stupid! You’re a fool! You’re just as pathetic as Batman! What even is a Bat Man meant to be, anyway? And now, this man is holding you! From what you can see, the glow of the acid is turning his outfit green! Oh, what’s that silly symbol on his outfit?! Haha! The little question marks in your brain, and now there’s a big one on this man’s spandex! Hahaha! You’re an idiot! An idiot who didn’t realise you finally got to meet your hero! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! He thinks you’re so stupid! He can hear you mumbling about how stupid you are, you’re really not helping things, this is so funny, he’s going to hate you! And now, everything’s going dark like your future! Ha! Ha… Ha… Ha…………..

You’re in a hospital bed. Next to you is your umbrella. “You’re awake,” the nurse says, looking at you with concern. “Wh… what happened..?” “Someone found a note leading to you. You were passed out… Joker chemicals…” Your eyes widen. “J-Joker?! Is… are there gonna be lasting effects?!” “You might be more prone to fits of laughter, but that’s all.”

In the evening, you’re released from the hospital. You walk home, holding your umbrella. You feel an irregularity on the handle, and carefully take your finger away from it. Your heart leaps; there, on the handle… a small question mark, engraved into the wood. You stand there for a little while, shaking, your mouth open in what could be a smile. What could this mean?

You return home, giggling. You walked past Troyte Bank on the way, Troyte being the next piece in the Enigma variations. There also seems to be a pattern to the timing of the robberies – the next is going to be at some point between 1 and 1:30. You’re shaking. You could go to the bank at 1. You… you could see him… you could be in the bank while it’s being robbed… a bank robbery would be very scary, but you could see him! Being an innocent bystander in one of the Riddler’s very own crimes… the thought makes you giddy with excitement. You’re giggling again; the exposure to the fumes of the Joker chemical has evidently given you this new habit. You sound like a teenage girl talking with friends about a cute boy. Your laughter turns more nervous. What will people think when they hear your giggling? They’ll think you’re weird…

They already do, though…

It’s 1PM. You step into the bank from the rain of Gotham, clutching your umbrella, biting your lip to stop yourself from giggling. You loiter near the side, doing your best to not look suspicious, waiting for him… After three minutes, the door opens, and five goons holding machine guns enter the building, along with him. The Riddler, wearing his iconic green spandex, with the purple belt, and the large black question mark on the front. There are little question marks in lines down the sides of the arms and legs. He’s wearing his mask and gloves, of matching shades of purple. The spandex… doesn’t leave much to the imagination. You can tell that he is quite muscular, although not nearly as muscular as people renowned for strength, such as Batman. “I’m tough and elastic, but you have left! O! What am I? A robbery!” he exclaims, gleefully. You can’t help but smile at his wide grin. He twirls his cane as the gunmen usher everyone in the bank to the side. The gunmen tell everyone to kneel, and you kneel down, clutching your umbrella. An old man grunts from having to kneel. The Riddler looks at the group. “Tell you what. Anyone who can answer any riddles will be allowed to stand up!” he says, taking out some cards from within his belt and giving them to one of his goons, whispering instructions for the order they get distributed in. He and two of the goons walk into the vault, and are presumably taking the loot, while one of the goons points his gun at the bank staff, one points his gun at the group, and the last one is handing out the riddles. You receive your card with the riddle on it. You read the riddle: What can be gentle as the wind, or as all-consuming as fire, as strong as a mountain, as beautiful as a sapphire? “Is it love?” you ask shyly, before he has even finished handing out the riddles. He walks over to you, and reads the riddle. After a little pause, he grunts and nods, and walks off. You start to stand up, and glance at the old man next to you who is struggling. “The answer’s water,” you murmur in his ear. He rereads the riddle, and then gives his answer to the goon, who has now finished handing out the riddles. He is allowed to stand, and you wait for the goons to glance away, then give another person an answer. “My, my, you’re very good at solving other peoples’ riddles, aren’t you?” a soft voice says in your ear. You squeak. It’s him. You can feel yourself trembling nervously, he’s so close, he has a smirk on his face. The Riddler gives you a wink, and moves away. He leaves with the goons and the loot he has stolen.

That night, you go home, shaking. You’re filled with emotions, and they’re scaring you. You… you think you might… love him… you’re not sure what kind of attraction you feel… and it’s scary. He means a lot to you, and you want him to know how you feel, but you don’t even really know how you feel. You go and print out the page for Oriented Aroace on the LGBTQIA Wiki. You get out a pen and paper, and start making a diagram, with some bars, each corresponding to a different type of attraction, the main ones you can think of. For the bar about sexual attraction, you can easily put NO in capital letters. For sensual attraction, you fill it quite high. You pause, and decide to write definitions for the types of attraction. You reach romantic attraction, and hesitate. What is romantic attraction? Romance is entirely a social construct… how does one define it? After a minute of trying to think, you just fill it with question marks and print out the wiki page for quoiromantic. You start writing: “I don’t know what romantic attraction is meant to feel like. I don’t feel it usually, but you make me feel something I’ve never felt before, and I can’t tell if it’s a cross between hyperfixation and alterous attraction, or if this is what romance feels like.” You glare at the paper. You genuinely can’t tell if it’s you finally feeling romantic attraction for one person, or if it’s internalised amatonormativity and you’re just hyperfixating and have tertiary attractions. All you know is… that you love him…

The next day – another rainy one - is here. You’re loitering inside Without Nines, a casino, when he comes in, with several gunmen. There are also two women, dressed in spandex with question marks – Query and Echo. The Riddler is wearing a very dapper green suit with black question marks, along with a purple and blue waistcoat with question mark shapes. His light green tie is embroidered with purple question marks, and he wears a green bowler hat with a purple ribbon and a black question mark, the colours matching the rest of his outfit. His shirt is black, and he wears purple gloves and his purple mask. A little smile plays upon his face as everyone in the casino immediately panics, at his mercy. Guards immediately try to fight him, but the gunmen fire some warning shots. “Ah ah ah! I’m going to take a hostage! And if you don’t let me take the money, you’ll find yourselves riddled with bullets!” he says, smiling smugly. Your heart leaps as he starts walking straight towards you. You let out a little squeak as he hooks his cane around your arm, and pulls you towards him. You’re shaking, and do a little giggle, nervous. This is it. He’s noticed you. He’s taken you hostage. And all you can do is giggle like a lunatic. The Riddler is giggling slightly, as he unhooks his cane from your arm, and puts his arm around your shoulders, pointing the cane under your throat threateningly. You can feel the cold metal against your neck. With some of his goons following, he walks through the casino, holding you close to him, letting everyone know that he could kill you if they don’t let him rob the place. And yet, he gives you a gentle squeeze, and something tells you that he isn’t going to hurt you. Query and Echo force a staff member to open the vault.

He lets out a giggle as the group walk into the vault. You let out a little gasp as you see how much money there is. The Riddler chuckles. “Impressed?” he says in your ear with a low voice. He walks in front of you, and looks at your awestruck face. You’re trembling, he’s looking at you, all you can do is stare at the money like an idiot. He giggles. “Alright, then. Looting this place might take a while, so we may as well get comfortable,” he says, a smile on his lips. The regular gunmen start taking the money, while Query and Echo stay on guard at the vault’s entrance. The Riddler puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes down to make you sit on the floor. You let out a little giggle. He sits down, facing you, and holds his cane, resting it against your neck, presumably to establish some threat. “Well, then. Riddle me this. Why hasn’t Batman caught me yet?” he asks. You squeak delightedly when he says it. He laughs a little, a laugh that makes your heart feel so light. He looks happy. “Go on. I’ve seen you three times, now. You’ve solved my riddle…” he says, leaning in. “Not just anyone can do that.” You start giggling uncontrollably. You feel light. He leans back a bit, waiting for you to regain your composure. “Are you always this giggly? Is it from the Joker chemicals? Or… maybe… just maybe… is it only when you see me?” he asks, winking. You giggle more. “Ha! Ha! Hahahahaha! It’s J-J-Joker… ha! Joker chemicals! Ha ha!” you laugh. He looks at you, sympathetic, and puts a hand on your shoulder. Your giggling gets worse, and you feel yourself blushing, and he immediately pulls his hand away. He waits quietly for you to calm down, as his men continue emptying the vault. He pulls you to your feet, and whispers into your ear. “I only have two more robberies in this plan. That’s the… initial… idea…” he whispers. He’s so close to you, you can feel his breath on your ear. He gives a flamboyant twirl of his cane, and holds you menacingly again, putting his cane back to your throat. “Well then, my little hostage, it’s soon time for me to set you free,” he says, giving his handsome smile. You giggle, and blush slightly. You’re looking up at him, and he looks down at you. He lets out a little laugh. “You’re rather adorable,” he says. You squeak, and blush much more. He giggles. “Well, I’ll give you some time to regain your composure, haha,” he says, backing away slightly. You take deep breaths, and eventually calm down. He holds you again, and the group leaves the vault. He places you back with the other civilians, and moves away, his demeanour much more menacing… “Alright! And, just to seal this wondrous little robbery, everyone will give me one of their valuables!” he says, laughing. He looks so happy… you can’t help but smile… He takes peoples’ necklaces as they tremble, a pair of earrings, some fancy brooches… he reaches you, and smiles. You already know what he wants, and you shyly hold the umbrella. Your eyes meet as he wraps his hand around the handle, your grip lingering. He takes it from you, giggling, and continues taking other peoples’ valuables.

The next day, you’re walking through the streets of Gotham, giggling excitedly. Today is going to be the day you come out to him. You spent yesterday evening getting ready to tell him, getting ready to speak. You’ve simplified your explanation considerably. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that you’re going to see him, and tell him everything… maybe… maybe he was impressed by your ability to predict his crimes when even Batman couldn’t… “Hey, what’s that dumb smile on your face for?!” a menacing voice says. A gang of thugs surrounds you. You go pale. “Well? Why you giggling? You think you’re the Joker or some shit?!” he shouts. You look around, desperate for help. Citizens are walking away, only glancing for some spectacle. A furtive woman in a green coat opens her phone and points it at you – is she going to record this?! “Uh, heehee, I, I d-don’t wanna f-fight… it’s… ha… I inhaled some Joker fumes… p-please… haha… don’t h-hurt me…” “You won’t be smiling when we’re done with you!” a thug says, elbowing you in the abdomen and sending you staggering back. Tears are streaming down your face. You’re missing the Riddler’s robbery, surely he’ll think you’re an idiot, he’s going to hate you- you’re punched in the face, and sobbing. They keep punching you, keep kicking you, keep kicking you. Whack. Whack. Whack. It hurts. You feebly try to hold up your arms to block their blows, but they easily shatter your defences. You’re bleeding now. It hurts so much. They kick your legs, and you crash down to the ground, crying. They get their weapons out… one of them has a hammer… You can hear the crunch of your bones as your legs shatter. You can only whimper as one gets out her knife, and stabs you in the abdomen. You’re screaming. “PLEASE STOP! I D-D-DIDN’T DO ANYTHING TO YOU!!” you cry as they keep hitting you. Your vision goes black. This is it, you’re going to die… “LEAVE THEM ALONE!”  a voice shouts. They stop, tense. Your head is bleeding, you can’t think straight, but… it sounds… familiar… Your vision is lit up with blue, as something fires electricity at the thugs. They shriek, and run away, leaving you. There are murmurs among the onlookers. You can feel hands slide underneath your body, as your saviour picks you up. He’s walking quickly. “Hey… hey… please… please talk to me…” he says. Your vision is starting to return, and you can see the Riddler, tears streaming down his face. “Sorry…” you say weakly. “It’s alright, it’s alright, none of this is your fault, please don’t apologise for anything, you will be safe,” he says, voice cracking. “I w-was gonna be there… I… I promise I’m not stupid…” “Oh… oh, baby… I already know you’re not stupid. Shh… everything’s going to be okay…” he says, holding you close as he walks. He is thinking. “Alright… you need me on the fairway, you need me for luck, but when you have me you’re well and truly fucked, what am I?” “Uh… uh… uh… a… a stroke?” you answer. He strokes your hair with his soft hands. He’s wearing a green suit, this time with a purple shirt that’s only buttoned 2/3 of the way, showing off his chest and collarbones. His hat is at a jaunty – no, messy – angle, and his mask is streaked with tears.

He enters a building. You can’t read the sign, but you can tell the initials are E.D.U. It’s dark, this building must be a repurposed warehouse. It’s quiet, except for your whimpering, and his heavy breathing, and quick footsteps. He continues stroking your hair, his hands shaking. He sets you down, and rolls up your shirt, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath. “Uh… okay… this looks bad… I’m going to have to stitch your wound…” he says. You shudder, and he picks you up. “It’s going to be okay… I promise.” He rushes into the bathroom, lays you into the bathtub and turns the tap on, rinsing the wound under the water. He gives your hair a pat, and starts preparing his first aid equipment, sterilising a needle and thread. He holds your hand, and cleans your wound as you whimper. He takes you out of the bathtub, and lays you down, using a towel to dry you. “Listen, you’ll be okay, I promise,” he says. He starts rubbing some cream around your wound, and you feel yourself going numb. He starts stitching, and you’re crying. “Shh… shh… uh… what’s so fragile that saying its name breaks it?” “S-s-silence…” you respond. He nods, and keeps stitching. “You’re a smart cookie, you know?” His words make your heart leap. He keeps stitching. “I do mean it. I really do… I’m almost done with the stitches…” After what feels like an eternity, he finishes, and smiles at you, taking his gloves off. “The worst bit’s over,” he says, stroking your hair. He bandages the area. Now that the worst part is over, you start to appreciate the softness of his hands. You realise he is wearing green nail polish, with a purple question mark on each finger. He finishes bandaging you. “All done!” he says, giving you a headpat, making you giggle. He gives you a warm smile. Your giggling dies down as the exhaustion starts to really hit you. You pass out.

When you open your eyes, you’ve been tucked into a soft, green bed, covered in purple question marks. “You’re awake!” he says, reminiscent of a puppy who just saw a friend. On top of his outfit from before, he’s wearing a knitted jumper, green with purple question marks, it looks so soft. You’re still in pain, but you blush a little, as he reaches out with his hand, then pauses. “Um, would it be comforting if I held your hand?” Your heart leaps, and you nod, giggling. He gently takes your hand in his, and smiles softly. It’s so soft, it distracts you from some of the sharp pain you feel all over your body. “Um… th-thank you…” you mumble. “Hey. I had to save you, you’re like a good luck charm at this point. It… it’s not right when you’re not there,” he says softly, stroking your hand gently. You squeak, giggling. He looks at you, a little smile on his face. “So why do you keep following me? Is it gratitude for me saving you from Joker’s gang? Are you trying to prove your intelligence against the smartest man in Gotham? Or maybe… something else?” he asks in his soft voice, winking at the end. You giggle nervously, trying to collect yourself. “I… I… heehee… hahaha… you’re… hahahahaha…” You’re shaking, nervous, and he can tell. He gently strokes your hand, a comforting smile on his face. “It’s okay… take your time…” “Ha… ha… haha… YOU’RE MY SPECIAL INTEREST!” you blurt out. His eyes are wide, and he looks very surprised. You laugh nervously. “Like autism?” he asks, his smile widening. You nod, cursing yourself for being so blunt and probably making a fool of yourself – he’s smiling wide and crying tears of joy. His leg is bouncing. “Hahahaha I need to come out hahahahaha I’m an oriented aroace I hahahaha don’t feel romantic or sexual attraction but I’m feeling other types of attraction to you,” you say, shaking. He has a little pause of processing this, and smiles. “Hey, you’re valid! So, uh, what other types of attraction do you feel?” he asks, giving a good-natured smile. “Hahahaha I feel sensual attraction where I want to touch you and I feel alterous attraction which is uh it’s an emotion attraction that isn’t exclusively romantic or platonic haha and maybe I feel aesthetic attraction hahahaha,” you say, trembling. He grins, and giggles. “You’re quite the riddle, aren’t you? I’ve taken quite a liking to you,” he says, his smile lighting up your world. The way his eyes light up fills your heart with joy. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re so precious. Seriously, you’re one of the most adorable people ever. Seeing you during my crimes… well, now I know how Ozzie feels about seeing birds. You’re like… a little friend…” You let out a squeak, and he laughs. “You’re so cute… may I put my hand on your face?” he says. You nod, giggling, as he cups your head in his hands. “How do you feel about eye contact?” he asks. “Haha! I’m okay making eye contact with people I like!” you respond. There is a pause, as he slowly moves his eyes towards you.

“And… do you… like me?” he asks.

You look into his eyes. Both of you giggle. He gently strokes your hair. “Is this okay, d… may I call you dear?” Your heart leaps, and your mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Haha! I, ha, uh, haha it’s okay! Ha… uh… haha… what… w-what’s… what… what are we?” you ask, blushing slightly. There is a pause, as he thinks. “You seem to be my biggest fan, and I find you simply adorable. I’ll do anything to make you feel comfortable. I’ll look after you… Batman almost caught me last time, so I have plenty of free time…” “What… what happened? Wh-what did I miss?” You feel a little sting at the memory. The pain is coming back, and you can feel tears forming. He wipes the tears from your eyes. “I started the robbery… everything was in place, I had the plan, but… it didn’t feel the same, without you. What takes deep hold and becomes every day, and without it the tree will fall?” “Uh… root… routine?” “Exactly. Seeing you, it’s become part of my routine… you hold a place in my heart… I… my plans, I started planning for you…” You look at him, in awe. Somehow, the biggest genius ever, your hero… has been thinking about you. “Wow…” is all you can say. You’re not even giggling anymore, you’re just repeating the word. He ruffles your hair. “We Rogues, not many people like us. It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a devoted fan… and you solved my plan faster than Batman… you can understand how much that means to me, right?” he says, seeming… nervous? The confidence is gone, he looks… anxious… like he needs reassurance. “You’re… haha… my… ha-ha-hero…” you say. His eyes light up, and he nods his head rapidly. “Um… is it alright if I give you a kiss on the forehead?” he asks. You nod, and start giggling again, as he gently puts his hand behind your head. He gives you a soft kiss on the forehead, making sure to avoid the bandage which you finally notice. He’s so gentle, and the tender kiss is taking away the pain you feel. He lets go, and looks down, into your wide eyes. “With skill, I am paid to save. What am I?” “… Protect?” He nods. “I want to protect you… you’re… you’re too precious. I’ll find the people who did this to you…” he says, wrapping his arms around you, looking into your eyes to gauge your reaction. You have a tired look in your eyes, as you lean into him. “I… I have something for you…” He reaches down, and holds your umbrella. Your crude attempt of carving the handle into a question mark shape has now been greatly polished, but most importantly, it has been covered in vibrantly-coloured question marks. “It’s… beautiful…” “A beautiful umbrella for a beautiful mind, from an even more beautiful mind,” he says, as you relax in his arms and make a contented little humming noise. He gently strokes your hair, and you fall asleep in the Riddler’s arms, your head buried in his chest.

[dinkandballz]

NSFW

Taking care of Alastor for the first time

INCLUDES: aspec Alastor, trans Alastor, sub bottom Alastor, dom top reader, amab reader, established relationship, cunnilingus, creampie

Alastor has no idea what he’s doing.

He’s laying below you on the bed, tail wagging relentlessly as it’s squished between the bedsheets and his back, and he’s wet.

Usually when this bizarre feeling occurs, when Alastor gets… needy, he’ll close his eyes and deal with it himself.

But now that you’re his partner and you’re so willing to help him, he agrees.

So there you are, face between his thighs as his body makes obscene noises in reaction to your eager tongue.

And Alastor feels like he’s on top of the world, grinding against your face for more and more until he finally gushes onto your tongue.

He politely hands you a towel and watches as you lick your lips.

He’s tempted to go further, and empty feeling settles in his belly, and he almost says nothing about it before he spots the tent in your pants.

“I would like you to make love to me,”

And you chuckle and agree, because he’s clearly as desperate as you are, so why not?

You kiss the scars on his chest as you sink inside, watching as Alastor’s back arches up in response.

Gently, you guide your cock in a little deeper with each thrust, taking things slow and watching as Alastor’s eyes begin to wet.

“Sorry, sorry, it just- it’s so much, and it’s so good,”

And you nod in agreement, leaning down to kiss at Alastor’s neck until you’re bottomed out.

He looks so dazed and pleased when you start to make love to him properly, his legs wrapped around your hips to keep you close.

Eventually, you warn him that you’re going to pull out, and he shakes his head insistently.

“No you’re not, you’re not moving until I finish,”

And you agree.

Finally, your hips stutter as you fill him up, rubbing at Alastor’s clit while you’re still connected and bringing him to orgasm soon after.

(You cannot pull out no matter how hard you try, even after Alastor falls asleep.)

[kernsing]

ORV as a story about fervid devotion through life and death/the desperate lengths taken to save the one(s) you care about more than anything/the paradoxically futile yet worthwhile endeavor to know and understand and love someone—all without ever developing into romance—is just so near and dear to my aromantic heart. Even past the grand gestures, the heroic journeys, the sacrificial acts, this one dream: “I want to buy a really big house and live together with everyone.” How do I encapsulate the amount of yearning inherent to my reading of that sentence. Like it was clawed out from the deepest parts of the soul. How wondrously heavy and real it feels, this hope for a future I can see much more clearly than any vision of dating/partnership/marriage.

I want to buy a really big house and live together with everyone.

Me too, Dokja. Me too.

[leehama]

Hi! I’ve been thinking about Gourmet Hound and specifically Lucy and her tendency to like people who give her food. I was wondering, do you think she’d be on the aro/ace spectrum? Gray maybe?

The only GH character I wrote with the intention of being aspec is Chef Bartlett, but that doesn't exclude the possibility of other characters being aspec too! If you're specifically talking about Ep. 63 - Blueberry Pie, the joke there is supposed to be that all of Lucy's crushes kinda look like Graham, but Joanna, Walt, and Graham are getting distracted by the detail that they gave her food--but that doesn't mean there aren't other interpretations of the scene than what I intended!

[dapapple]

Some of my orv aspec head cannons :]

[sanguineterrain]

Hi, I love your fics. Feel free to say no to this request but I was wondering if maybe you could write something about asexual Jason Todd? I've always felt like he'd be aspec and identified with him because of that. You write intimacy and love without sex so well, and it'd be wonderful to see it with ace Jason. Maybe one where he tells the reader and he's really scared but they accept him? But if you don't want to, completely fine. Thank you for sharing your writing. 🧡

Hey there nonnie. This one is very personal to me; I'm also ace and have often had the thought that Jason is aspec too. I think sometimes I write him that way without realizing it. I hope you and others enjoy this one! 💓

asexual!jason todd x gn!reader. tw sexuality discussion, some internalized acephobia, love confession. please be kind in the comments.

****

Rain patters on the kitchen window. You'd come over with the excuse of the two egg and cheese sandwiches from the bodega Jason likes so much.

"I think I could eat egg and cheese sandwiches for every meal," he says, mustard on his nose.

You want to say something stupid. Something about bringing him egg and cheese sandwiches in the rain forever. Something about a grave and hunger and what it means to be fed, to feed.

"From anywhere or specifically from the bodega?" you ask.

"Bodega, obviously. Alfred's, too. And yours. Food made with love." He shakes the foil. "I can taste the love."

"Jason?"

"Hm?"

"I..." You touch your nose. "Mustard."

He wipes it off. The thin takeout napkin is tiny in his hand.

"Don't even know how it got up there," he mumbles.

Oh, God. You're about to say something stupid.

"I love you," you blurt. "I—I'm falling in love with you, Jason."

Silence. Jason freezes mid-bite.

"Fuck," he whispers.

You watch as he springs from the couch and starts to pace. He chews on a cuticle, eyes wild. The sandwich is abandoned on the coffee table. You frown.

"Jason. Jay. Hey. Jaybird."

Nothing. You catch his free hand and rub his knuckles. Jason's eyes dart to you. He stops.

"I didn't say that to scare you," you say, even though it hurts, the idea that your love scares him. "It's okay if you don't feel the same."

"I do," Jason says miserably. "Fuck, I do. I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You squeeze his hand, suddenly, incandescently happy.

"You do?" you ask.

"But I—" He shakes his head. "I can't love you the way you want me to."

"Jay, whatever you think coming back did, I promise that—"

"No." Jason swallows hard and shuts his eyes. "God, that's the thing. 'S not from the Pit. I thought—y'know, I waited for everything to slide into place. The Lazarus Pit is s'posed to resurrect a person. Build them anew. But I felt the same."

"Felt the same?"

Jason looks at you then, and you know that expression. It's a plea. Don't use this information to hurt me.

You tug him back to the couch, coax him into sitting. He very carefully doesn't let any part of him touch you.

"I didn't, uh, have a name for it when I was younger. I didn't, like, think about sex or anything like that very much before B took me in 'cause I was in survival mode, y'know?"

"That makes sense, Jay," you offer gently.

"Right. Well, but it just... stayed that way. And before you ask, yeah, I've tried. I've tried to force the feelings." He takes a shaky breath. "I remember Dick telling me about how he'd started dating Kori—I mean, Kori, she's beautiful, y'know? And I was like, what's wrong with me that I can't feel that? I knew that she was beautiful, logically, but I didn't... feel it. I picked it apart for months, trying to figure out why I couldn't be like him or B or Selina."

"Oh, Jay..."

"No, I know. I tried. I crushed on a few people, but I never acted on it 'cause I knew there was something... different. Something to hide. And then I thought the Pit would give that to me, that feeling I've never had, and it didn't. And I guess I should be happy that it's not something that needs to be fixed or restored or whatever, but all I feel is shame. I feel sick when someone looks at me like I'm a piece of meat. I attract more attention with how I look now, and it's worse than before, having no control over how people desire me."

You frown. "Jason, if I've ever made you feel that way, I hope you'd tell me. I'm sorry if I have."

"No, you—you're perfect. God, you make me feel so safe. Cared for in a way I haven't known in a long time. And that's why this is so shit. 'Cause this won't work. You want something I can't give you."

"Who says I don't want what you can give me?"

Jason laughs. It comes out choked. "Oh, no, no. You don't know what you're saying. Maybe it'll take six months or a year or two years but you'll get fed up with not having sex. I'm not worth celibacy. I know I'm not."

"Jason." You lightly touch his cheek. He looks at you, eyes wet. "Oh, Jay. Why do you think that? Why do you think you're only good for your body?"

"Hah. I've only been good for my body for years now. 'S nothing new, and it doesn't matter whether I'm a boyfriend or a soldier."

"Jason. It does matter. It does. You're not a body to me, you're a person. A brain. A heart. A good soul."

He blinks fast. "Don't... y'don't have to say that stuff. Let me down easy. It's okay if you leave. I don't have what you want."

"But you do. There's no reason you don't. Sex? I can do without."

He scoffs. "That easy, huh?"

"With you? Yes," you say. "Easiest choice I've ever made, actually. Like deciding to bring you a breakfast sandwich. I woke up and I did that. Because I love you."

His fingers creep to yours. You hold them as soon as he's within reach.

"I'm not gonna change," he says.

Jason thinks it's a warning. You see it for what it is: hope.

"That's alright," you say, squeezing his hand. "I'm not trying to change you."

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Riddler comforts you while you have period pain (platonically (or queerplatonically?))

Disclaimers:

I'm quite new to writing fanfiction, and I wrote this while dying of period pain, so it might not be the best writing, especially near the end

He's uncharacteristically nice I need comfort okay? (also there's only one riddle)

Allo people are free to interact but please be mindful that I am aroace and this isn't made for you

It's non-romantic and non-sexual but there is touching for comfort in the last third so if you're touch-averse when it comes to fanfiction then you might not like it

I am English, so there might be language differences if you're American (eg: pants is referring to underpants, not trousers)

NO TERFS.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Swearing (F**k and B*tch), period pain, hurt/comfort, house break-in

Reader insert info: Vigilante, explicitly asexual (romanticism isn't addressed at all so they're implicitly aromantic but they don't have to be), AFAB (no gender revealed)

Word count: 938

The monthly sinking feeling hits you as you look down at your pants and finally see blood. You knew it was coming; you pre-emptively put a pad in there, but it still send a wave of misery through you as you let out a “fuck!” You stand up, wincing in pain, and pull them up along with your pyjama bottoms. You flush the toilet, watching it go just like your hopes and dreams for the next week. You leave the bathroom and trudge through your house, finally reaching the bedroom. You open the door, turn the light on, and freeze.

There is a man on your bed. He is looking at you, a smug smile on his face, posing with one leg outstretched and the other bent, forming a triangular hole between the two. He’s wearing his bright green spandex, covered in question marks. “Hello, vigilante,” the Riddler says. “Oh fuck off!” you say, the pain making you slightly hunched over. The smile turns into a little look of shock before he regains his composure. “…well, aren’t you foul-mouthed today? What’s wrong? Scared, knowing that I, the Riddler, Prince of Puzzles knows your secret identity?” he says, beaming. He looks into your eyes, and sees the tears. “Are you okay, vigilante?” You are now hunched over a lot more. “Move,” you reply. He is taken aback. “Well, you’re being a bit rude to such an esteemed guest, aren’t you?” he retorts, but still shuffling over and bringing his legs in. You lurch toward the bed, practically collapsing on it. “Get the fuck off my bed. Now.” “…you’re being uncharacteristically rude. Is it something I said? Is it the fact I deduced your identity with my genius mind and broke into your house?” he responds, staring at you. “I’m fucking dying right now, get out.” “Huh? D… dying? Whatever makes you say that?! You’re not doing your vigilante things this week! Did… could someone else possibly have-” “Werewolf moment.” He pauses. “Oh. You mean, uh… I am a river of red, containing unused life, if you wanted to be bred, then seeing this causes strife?” “How the fuck should I know what that means? Bitch I am fucking bleeding right now please shut up just for one second,” you say, curled up on your bed, crying. There is silence, then you can feel him stand up and get off the bed. You drag yourself toward the pillow, and curl up on it. You can feel his weight on the other end of the bed, sitting a respectful distance away from you. “Is this why you always disappear for two weeks?” “Yeah.” There is a pause. You glance up, and see him on his phone, with his green phone case covered in dorky purple question marks. “You better not be taking any bloody pictures,” you say, grimacing. “I already have the ultimate blackmail. I’m not that cruel. No, I’m simply searching for the methods of reducing period pain. Alright. Um… have you stopped smoking?” “Never even started it.” “Alright then. Uh… do you have a, um, a hot water bottle or something?” he asks, rocking backwards and forwards slightly. You point to the fluffy hot water bottle on your shelf. He walks over and picks it up. “I’ll go and fill this up, then,” he says, walking through your door. A couple of minutes pass in agony, and he returns, placing it on your tummy. It’s nice and warm. He also brought a bottle of water for drinking, and places it on your bedside cabinet. He sits on the edge of your bed again, scrolling for more suggestions. His eyes widen a little. He glances around, and sees your ace pride flag on the wall. “I’m definitely not doing… that…” he mumbles. He keeps scrolling, and glances at you, seeing you clutch the hot water bottle, your teeth gritted, curled up on the bed. He slowly shuffles closer to you as you make pained noises. He gently lays his hand on your shoulder. You let out a little whimper, in too much pain to show your gratitude. Right now, you can’t focus on the fact that he is your enemy, all you can think of is the intense pain, and the fact that he is helping you. “Why…” you murmur, trying to focus on his hand. “You’re the sweetest vigilante ever. Seeing you like this, in so much pain that you’ve been telling me to fuck off, is a little heartbreaking. I wish Batman was going through this. Not you,” he says, the mocking tone gone from his voice. He sounds sincere. He wipes the tears from your eyes, and you make little noises as his soft glove touches your face. He gives a little smile, and continues wiping the tears, letting you cry onto his purple glove. You’re making little screaming noises, and he wraps his arms around you, gently rocking you like a baby. “It’s okay… you’ve got the greatest genius ever with you…” he says, holding you close.

“I’m dying… I’m dying… fuck… I’m dying…” He puts one of his hands on your tummy, and gently rubs circles around it. You keep whimpering, but his hands are comforting. “Thank you… thank you…” you say weakly. He continues for a few more minutes, and the pain starts to die down. You make soft little noises, and he gently lays you on the bed again. He tucks you in, and you can feel tiredness fill you. He gives you a gentle pat on the head. “Sleep tight,” he says, as you close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Fanfiction Masterpost

These are all aspec and non-rose :)

Queerplatonic Riddler x Reader 1

Riddler comforts you while you have your period

Hungry for more non-rose fanfic? I have a sideblog, @non-rose-fanfic-collection (it doesn't have much, though)