#aroace reader

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

Group Introductions

Alastor x Shy!Reader (QP)

(ft. BFF Charlie)

(A/N: I tried with this one, guys. No promises :') Also damn, I am on a roll)

It wasn’t very often that someone caught Alastor’s eye, but for some reason, you kept popping up. You often showed up at the hotel to help your close friend, Charlie, with whatever needed to be done, but you usually kept to yourself. In fact, Alastor could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen you talk to anyone besides Charlie. 

So imagine his surprise when you nervously approached him, fidgeting with your hands behind your back politely. “Excuse me, Mr. Alastor, b-but Charlie is wondering where you put the gold-inlaid tea set from Asmodeus. Sh-she says she can’t find it.” 

You kept your eyes downward, careful not to look directly at the Radio Demon. Your heart was doing flips in your chest, anxious that you’d say something wrong and that he’d get mad at you, or worse.

“Oh!” Alastor grinned down at you, amused. “Hello there, my dear. The tea set is in the back of the tallest cabinet. I found the designs quite off-putting. Might I ask why Charlie is looking for it?”

“I don’t know,” you replied quietly. “Thank you.” With that, you scurried off, Alastor watching you curiously.

Whenever you were at the hotel, you noticed how Alastor was always around. You wouldn’t say he was watching you per say, but he was just always… there. If you needed something and Charlie wasn’t around, he’d approach you and try to help. You never took him up on his offers, preferring to do things on your own, but it was appreciated nonetheless. 

“Hey,” Charlie was saying one day. The two of you were carrying boxes down to storage. “Have you ever met the other hotel staff? Or our residents? You’re here often enough.”

Hesitating, you shook your head. “No. I talked to Alastor once, though. But it’s okay, I don’t need to meet them.” You added that last part hurriedly. The last thing you wanted to happen was for Charlie to go around introducing you to everyone one at a time. Not only would that be extremely embarrassing, but you just… didn’t feel comfortable talking to people.

Surprise, surprise, that was exactly what Charlie did. 

You’d been dragged along to a group session against your will, causing you to sit in a corner, hoping no one would acknowledge you. That technique didn’t seem to work, however, since everyone kept looking towards you anyway. 

“Alright, everyone! Before we start today’s session, I want to introduce someone to you all!” Motioning towards you, Charlie urged you out of your corner. She looked so happy and excited, you just couldn’t say no to her. Despite the anxiety making your hands shake, you stood and awkwardly shuffled over to Charlie’s side. “This is one of my best friends!” Then, one by one, she started pointing everyone out. 

“That’s Vaggie, you’ve met her before!” Vaggie waved at you, giving you a reassuring smile, or as reassuring as she could manage.

“That’s Angel! He was our first resident, and has been staying here the longest!” The white spider demon, who you’d seen around but never interacted with before, glanced up from his phone to wave at you. He seemed wholly disinterested in the exchange, which didn’t help the pounding in your chest. 

“Next to him is Sir Pentious!” 

The snake demon waved exuberantly, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” You only nodded in reply in an attempt to be polite, trying to keep your eyes down. 

“And then there’s Niffty.” The small cyclops demon was much too preoccupied trying to stab a bug that was around beneath the furniture to bother acknowledging you or Charlie. You’d worked with Niffty before, helping make some of the beds, but you’d never spoken a word to her. You were okay with that. 

“Husk.” Upon hearing his name, the bartender only glanced up, before shrugging and going back to reorganizing his liquor cabinet. Like Niffty, you’d also helped him out before at Charlie’s request, but a word had never been spoken between the two of you. He didn’t seem very friendly anyway. 

A shadow grew behind you before Alastor’s tall figure appeared beside you. “And you’ve already met me before. A pleasure, my dear.” Dramatically, he gently took your hand and brought it to his lips. Your face went beet red (or whatever color your blood was) as you took your hand back quickly, nearly hitting Alastor as you did so. 

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you mustered, voice barely audible to yourself, let alone to those further away. “Excuse me.” You ran out the room before Charlie could even think of stopping you, finding a spare closet to hide in. 

Recounting the interaction in your head, you groaned as you placed your head in your hands. Maybe if you never came back to the hotel, you wouldn’t have to deal with any more embarrassing interactions? Why did Charlie have to single you out like that? She knew you weren’t a very social person! 

Not returning to the hotel wasn’t an option, you decided, hiding in that closet. You cared for Charlie too much to let her down like that. She’d told you so many times how much she valued your help. So maybe… just not interact with anyone else ever again? That could work, right?

Your mind kept going back to how Alastor kissed your hand. How are you supposed to tell someone you’re not the romantic type? This sort of thing had never happened before. And you did like Alastor, but not like that! 

“Hey, are you okay?” It was Charlie. How she’d found you, you had no idea, but that didn’t matter. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I just… really think you’d like them. And I thought, since you’re basically part of the staff already, it only made sense to, you know, introduce you?”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted so your back was against the closed closet door. “It… It’s okay. I get it. I just…” Sighing, you let your head fall against the door. “Does Alastor always act like that? B-because if he doesn’t, I have to tell him I’m not… you know… A-and I don’t really want to talk about that.”

“Oh, no, no, no, don’t worry about that!” Charlie let out a little awkward chuckle. “He’s like you, even if he doesn’t know it. He was just being polite.”

Relief filled your chest. “Oh thank Satan.”

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader queerplatonic #queerplatonic #aroace reader #aroace alastor #asexual alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #rhys-writes

[semiweirdshipper]

Slashers I think would make great ace partners.

I made this purely for my ace friends and followers. You don't have to agree with anything I say. This was made based on my own opinions and speculation. Like I said, you don't have to read this or agree with anything I say. These were also based on my own interpretations of the killers- aka- emotional support slashers.

1). Albert Wesker

I feel like a lot of people might disagree with me on this one, but I actually believe that Albert would gladly accept an ace partner. Albert has a high standard for people, especially partners. He puts personality value and skill value above all else. He looks for someone who is smart, talented, trustworthy, dependable and loyal. He wants someone who isn't too physically needy and can hold their own while he's gone on long trips. If he can have a partner who meets those needs, then I think he'd probably care less about sexual gratification. He would probably love to tease, pamper and spoil his partner as well for he just loves showing off how good he is at taking care of his loved one.

2). Michael Myers

It goes without saying that Michael probably despises sex or has no idea what sex actually is. If Michael were to find a partner, I think he'd choose a partner who is interesting, emotional and has certain needs. Michael is a protector; he likes guarding his loved one and providing them with care. He finds pride in the service he provides them, especially if it makes them feel happy, comfortable and safe. I do think Michael would like to hold and/or cuddle his partner, but not much more than that. Sex isn't even a part of his vocabulary. He loves his partner no matter who they are.

3). Jason Voorhees (the ultimate baby boy!)

The ultimate sexual pleasure destroyer here who kills every naked person in literally every movie, lol. Jason is a person who needs love, acceptance and reassurance, so he seeks out a partner who is kind, modest and pure. Jason is number one when it comes to putting personality value first. He could care less what his partner looks like, just as long as they are empathetic, accepting, trustworthy, loyal and compassionate. He also probably does love hugs, cuddles and soft, platonic touches because it makes him feel good, but sex is a no no. Jason is extremely caring too, so if his partner has needs, he will glady take care of them. He is a protector.

4). Pinhead/Elliot Spencer (baby boy number 2!)

I believe, due to his power, Elliot can feel the pleasure and determine the worth of a person without even touching them. Physical/sexual gratification isn't exactly something he needs to be able to feel what his partner is feeling. Elliot has a significant attraction towards those who are strong, passionate and determined. The worth of his partner is determined by their aspirations and outlooks on life. He loves to feel their emotions through the bond that they share because it's more meaningful and important to him. I think Elliot would also be pretty obedient and considerate, putting the needs of his partner first. You wanna cuddle? Then let's cuddle. You want space? Then you have your space, he understands.

5). Pyramid Head/The Executioner

I believe that Pyramid baby here is a special case because I don't think he has a "type". I believe he discovers love at first sight- like a soulmate thing. Doesn't matter what the person looks like or anything else. When he can feel that his potential partner is true to him despite whatever flaws they may have, he will instantly submit himself and live up to their expectations. If they prefer not to have sex, then that is perfectly fine. Just as long as this incredible person will stay with him, show him the world and share all kinds of meaningful experiences with him, then he will be infinitely grateful.

6). Jeffrey Hawk/Kenneth Chase (baby boy number 3!)

Jeffrey Hawk is a classical Kentucky tease (psst, I literally have no idea if he's from Kentucky. I just made it up, hehehe). Jeffrey does not define his partner's worth based on anything other than personality. Appearance doesn't matter, financial stance doesn't matter. Just as long as his partner is honest, loyal, caring and fun, then he will love them till the cows come home. His favorite things to do with his partner are cracking jokes, teasing, doing magic tricks, eating and exploring. He loves the attention and having his partner with him. Their smile and laugh is the very heart of his day. When it comes to sexual intimacy, he doesn't really care.

7). Ji-woon Hak

Some people might not agree with me on this one either, but whatever. I believe that Ji-woon would be a bit like Pyramid Head and view his partner as his soul mate. To him, they are the most precious, most beautiful and the most important jewel to him and he would do anything for them. Including giving up sex. There are other ways to enjoy time like teaching his partner how to play instruments or taking them on tour. Just as long as you're having fun, that's all that matters to him. He also loves attention and showing his partner off to the world. "Ha, jealous much? Look at my beautiful partner that you don't have!"

8). Carmina Mora

Carmina has been through a lot in life. She takes loss very seriously and will do anything to keep those closest to her safe. She also has insecurities and emotional issues, so risking bad behavior that would result in losing her partner is too great a risk. If she could find someone who was understanding, gentle and kind, and could accept her despite all her bad mistakes, I think she would be ever grateful to that person. I see Carmina as being more demi; needing that strong, emotional connection before ever doing anything intimate with her partner if that's what her partner wants. She's very loyal and caring, and will love her partner no matter what.

Fellow mentions I couldn't decide on (tell me what you think): Evan MacMillan, Bubba Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Max Thompson, and Rin Yamaoka.

#dead by daylight fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #albert wesker x reader #michael myers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #pinhead x reader #pyramid head x reader #jeffrey hawk x reader #ji woon hak x reader #Carmina Mora x reader #emotional support slashers #asexual reader #aroace reader #Demisexual reader #ace spec #non binary reader #bo sinclair #evan macmillan #max thompson jr #rin yamaoka #bubba sawyer #personal post

[sharkboywrites]

Can you do an Astarion x autistic trans male reader who really wants to try at having a romantic relationship with Astarion but really struggles at it and sometimes doesn’t really understand it and Astarion wants to kind of stop caring about reader because he can’t give him what he wants but he can’t get himself to stop caring for reader? Kind of platonic (?) but not really cus it’s more like that the reader is aromantic.

Sorry if this doesn’t make sense English isn’t my first language and i suck at writing 🥹

Astarion With a Reader Who Struggles With Relationships

A/N: Okay okay I sort of get this because I also consider myself somewhere on the aroace spectrum and I struggle with the same thing of wanting a relationship but not really being able to/understanding how that works and I think it would be a really interesting clash with Astarion

Trans male reader, aromantice/aromantic spec reader, sort of platonic sort of romantic

Your situation with romance causes Astarion a lot of confusion when the two of you start getting closer

The only thing he's known for the past two hundred years is sleeping with people to gain safety and trust, and along with it he had a very closed view on romance

So the both of you are exploring romance with each other for the first time and learning what the both of you are comfortable with

You decide to keep your feelings on romance to yourself for a bit, as the both of you were already unsure with this relationship and didn't want to put any more stress on him while he was processing these new feelings

When the time comes for a serious talk between the two of you, you both have things to say about how you feel

Surprisingly, Astarion could tell how you were feeling and he doesn't hold anything against you

While he cares about you dearly, he wants you to be able to make your own decision

He know what it's like to be forced into something you don't want, and he doesn't want the same for you, even if it hurts him a little bit

He does become a bit frustrated with himself, feeling like he's pressuring you but also not being able to understand exactly what it is you want

But to be fair, neither do you

Your feelings are complicated, you feel something for him, but you're not sure if it's platonic or romantic

You want to be in a relationship with him, but you don't understand what to do or how it works, or if you're even able to have one

When you explain this to him he's a bit confused, but understands how you're feelings may be complicated

He understands that your feelings towards him may be romantic, platonic, or something that doesn't even fit a label

All he knows is that you care for him in the same way he cares for you, and he won't ever make you feel bad for your struggles or force you to do anything you don't want

If you want to try a romantic relationship, he'll take it slow with you and walk you through what he knows and wants, although he's also learning about romantic relationships along with you

If you want to stay friends, he won't complain, even if he does love you and becomes a bit upset that he can't give you romance or help you through your emotions the way you want

He's glad to still be friends with you and that the two of you are still close, having a friendship doesn't stop the care you have for each other and that he'll protect you no matter what

There is a also the possibility of a different type of relationship, you two could have something queer-platonic

Your relationship could be something that toes the line of platonic and romantic

You could still do couple-y things, but never have a full on romantic relationship

The both of you talk through what you want and make an agreement based on what the both of you are comfortable with

While Astarion may be upset he can't give you what you need, or get what he wants, he cares about your comfort more than anything, and he'd never push you into something you're not comfortable with yet

Writing for aromantic feelings is weird because this stuff gets so complicated and is different for everything, but I hope I kept it general for everyone, ty for reading and have a nice day!

#sharkboywrites #mlm #mlm blog #male reader #platonic x reader #aromantic reader #aroace reader #astarion x male reader #astarion x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Just As You Are (Wolffe x GN!Asexual!Aromantic!Reader)

Word count: 2047

Warnings: I’ll say NSFW for mention of having sex to make past partners happy, mention of masturbation, minors DNI

A/N: This is my first time writing Reader who is strictly aroace so I hope I did it some kind of justice. I know not all aroace people express themselves in the same way, so this is just one version I had in my mind. I believe what I write is referred to as a queerplatonic relationship? No pronouns are used for Reader.  There is cuddling, bedsharing, and some sweetness, but not romance in the way a lot of people think about it. I think that touch is great and can be a wonderful way of communicating in all relationships, including platonic relationships, so there are some quick kisses, hugs, hand holding, etc.

You'd first met him when helping Rex with some clones who escaped The Empire. They were all stressed and in need of serious help. You ran into him and Gregor on the lower levels of Coruscant. You were selling some speeder parts to another vendor and they were looking for some specific ship parts. One thing led to another and Wolffe's visits to your shop became more frequent. You liked him. He was quick-witted and kind. You weren't sure exactly what you thought about him, just that he had a special place in your heart. Sex wasn't for you. Romance wasn't for you either, but you loved his company. 

Sometimes he would sit with you while you tinkered in the shop, trying to fix something for him while he waited.  You didn’t give too much away at first, but as you got to know each other, you opened up more and so did he.  Like his brothers, he had been through a lot in the war.  You thought he was brave and thoughtful and still managed to keep a sense of humor after all that.  

Wolffe was there the day you broke down and admitted you needed a fresh start and had decided to sell your shop and find some other place in the galaxy. You apologized, knowing they depended on you, but knew life on Coruscant was getting too dangerous to stay.

"Come with us," he said. "There's room for you and we could use your skills. Besides, I'd miss you if I didn’t get to see you again."

You were shocked at first, but within a week a half dozen clones scoured what supplies and parts you had left in your little workshop. You told them to take what was needed and were able to sell the shop and what was left as-is. Wolffe helped you carry your few personal belongings to the ship he now lived on with some of his brothers. You walked away, at least grateful to have someone who cared.

“Everything will work out,” he said.  You smiled up at him and nodded.  You hoped so.

Wolffe helped you get settled in your own bunk on the ship.  Room was rather scarce, but there was some space for each of you.  You traveled with them, helping other clones escape, but found yourself helping the most with everyday tasks.  Cooking, fixing clothes, knowing when to barter, trade, or flat out buy something, and how to fix items.  These were all things they had never had to worry about before. Food was in the mess, they dropped off their blacks to get fixed if they ripped, and they never worried about money or buying supplies during the war.  The GAR took care of it, even if the food wasn’t particularly delicious or plentiful.

One night, as you sat in the cockpit together, keeping an eye out for any problems on the backwater planet you’d settled on for the night, Wolffe decided to make his feelings known.  He turned to you and rubbed the back of his head before taking a deep breath.

“I care about you, you know.”

You looked at him and smiled. “I know. And I care about you.”

“I mean, I think I am in love with you,” he replied.

You felt butterflies in your stomach.  Somehow you knew he felt this way and you worried that if he knew the truth about how attraction worked for you, he wouldn’t want anything to do with you and you’d lose your dearest friend.

“Wolffe, I…” you thought about where to start, but it was clear his heart was sinking with worry that you didn’t think about him the same way.  You reached out and held his hand.  He slowly let his fingers close around yours as you continued.

“I don’t experience romantic attraction. I also don’t like sex. I have never wanted to have sex.  It’s not you.  I actually… I love you too… just maybe in a different way.”

He let a cautious smile spread across his face.  You were in it now and he hadn’t rejected you yet.  You might as well lay it all out.  As if he knew you needed another bit of strength, Wolffe squeezed your hand a little, reminding you that he was still there with you and wanted to hear what you had to say.

“I may not be attracted to people in those ways, but I definitely have feelings for you, Wolffe.  More so than Rex or Gregor or my other friends and certainly more than I did for my family.  But I understand if that’s not enough.  It’s never been enough for anyone else.”

He held your hand and reached out to caress your cheek with his thumb. “Is this okay,” he asked, pausing just before touching your face, and wanting to be near you but not wanting to overstep.  You nodded and smiled, somewhat surprised by his reaction to what you just said.

“It’s more than enough for me and it’s more than okay,” he said.  “And if you don’t believe me, let me show you.  Give me a chance to love you how you want to be loved.”

You leaned into the hand still holding your cheek.  You relaxed a little, trying to not let old worries bother you.  Right now, you felt understood and embraced for who you were.

It took a little time, but you both slowly had conversations about where the boundaries were.  You loved cuddling and Wolffe was all too happy to welcome you into his bunk. He swapped sheets and blankets with your old bunk so that you could be comfortable with what was familiar, but the temperature on the side of the ship with his bunk was more to your liking, so you moved your stuff over.  

The first night together started a little awkwardly, but you felt so safe when he put his arm around your waist and asked, “Is this okay?”  You assured him it was.  Wolffe was normally so sure of himself and confident in combat, but with you he was only confident when he was sure you were on the same page.  He wanted to get it right.

“Can I kiss your cheek,” he asked.  You nodded.  

“Do you like kisses, Wolffe?”

“Yes.”

You kissed his cheek in return and rested against him.  It felt so right.  You fell asleep together and got some of the best rest of your life.  Wolffe’s presence felt like a weighted blanket - not controlling or restricting, but calming.

A few mornings later he woke up before you and as soon as he realized his morning wood was against your leg, he pulled away.  You woke up from the sudden movement and asked what was wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I didn’t want you to think I…”  He looked down and wasn’t sure what to do.

“It’s okay,” you said.  You rubbed your eyes and laid back down, unsure of what else to say.

“I never want to pressure you,” he said.  “I didn’t want you to think I was.”

“You haven’t.”  You smiled, picked up his hand, and kissed the back of it.  You got up to use the refresher and you both went about your day.  Later in the evening, you found some time together.  Wolffe sat next to you and held your hand. It was becoming one of your favorite things.  Gregor joked that you were attached at the hands instead of at the hips before he got up and walked toward the cockpit for his watch.  You loved that.  Wolffe’s hands were somehow hard and soft at the same time, like him. It felt grounding.

Once you were alone, you brought up his earlier reaction to his body functioning normally and promised him you didn’t mind.  You knew he couldn’t control what his body did while he slept.  At the same time, it felt like you should bring up the topic of intimacy.  You asked if he was really okay with being with you and not having sex.

He scoffed and replied, “My hand and a couple toys have always been enough for me.”

You laughed a little at his honesty, but loved it.  He leaned toward you and rested his forehead against yours.  “We’re close in other ways.”  

“Yes, we are,” you replied with a warm smile.

After a few minutes, Wolffe tentatively asked something that had been on his mind.

“You said before that having a relationship like this has never been enough,” he said slowly.  “What happened? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just curious.”

You bit your lip and moved to lean on his shoulder, still holding his hand.  He gave it a little squeeze.  

“I was with couple other people at different times.  Tried the relationship thing. Someone would get to know me, wanted to date, romance, sex, the whole usual thing people normally do.  When I told them I’m not interested in that kind of love and didn’t feel like having sex with them, they would say they understood and it was fine, but eventually it wasn’t enough.  Especially the last person.  He really pressured me.  At that point, I cared about him and yeah, loved him in my own way, and I had sex with him to make him happy.  It didn’t feel right, though, and the relationship didn’t last.”

Wolffe’s breathing got heavier and you glanced up to see anger on his face.  You pulled away, unsure, and his expression immediately softened to one of care and protection.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, seeing your uncertainty.  “Far from it.  I’m sorry you felt like you had to do that.  It’s not right.”  He put an arm around you and pulled you close, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.  You let out breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“I want to make you happy,” you said.

“You do,” he answered with a broad smile and another kiss to your head.  “You make me so kriffing happy.  You’re enough as you are.”

You only became more inseparable as the years went on.  You came to depend on each other. If anyone asked he would say “we’re together” or “that’s my partner.”  You said the same of him.  He always made you feel special just as you were.  Each night you got into bed together and talked about your day.  You helped each other unwind simply by offering each other comfortable familiarity.  Some night you’d read a holonovel together and discovered you both liked science fiction.

You saw each other through some challenging times, too.  When you were in the Outer Rim and Wolffe’s cybernetic eye stopped working at the end of a mission, he was terrified he lost his sight for good.  You held his hand and ran him back to the ship, reminding him that his other eye was working and he would be okay.  As Gregor and Rex took off, looking for the nearest doctor who could help, you sat with him.  It was clear he was having flashbacks to the war and when he first lost his eye.

“I’m here,” you reminded him.  “I promise it will be okay.  You’re on our ship, Wolffe.  Rex and Gregor are here and we’re going to get you help.”

He looked like a terrified cadet, crying as you held him.  You walked him back to your shared bunk once you were in hyperspace, hoping the familiar sights, smells, and textures would help.

“Please don’t leave,” he asked through tears. 

“I never will.”

Everything turned out okay.  He needed an adjustment to his cybernetic, but was assured it should still last the rest of his lifetime and then some.  That night, you held him, letting him rest his face in the crook of your neck, while you rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said.  “I don’t know why I broke down when I could see out of my good eye just fine.”

“It’s okay,” you replied.  “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve gone through a lot.  I love you just as you are.”

“And I love you too,” he said, “just as you are too.”

Tagging: @kixs-husband @staycalmandhugaclone

#commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x m!reader #commander wolffe x aroace reader #wolffe x aroace reader #commander wolffe x f!reader #commander wolffe x gn!reader #commander wolffe x asexual reader #commander wolffe x aromantic reader #wolffe anon #tcw fanfiction #reader insert #wolffe x m!reader #wolffe x f!reader #wolffe x gn!reader #aroace reader #asexual reader #acespec reader #aromantic reader #cw: mention of feeling pressured to have sex

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Coming Out

Summary: Your work with Melina allows you to meet her daughter, Yelena, and as the two of you share a room whenever she visits, you find yourself growing close enough to make a confession.

Word Count: 2162

Pairing: aroace!Yelena Belova & aroace!Reader

Request: For Yelena can I request an imagine where the reader and her are sibling figures to each other. And the reader comes out as aroace to her and admits that they see her a sister figure?

Warnings: A little bit of worry about loneliness from Yelena, but that's it.

A/N: It took me a while to write this one, but I always love writing for Yelena :) the way I could write the coming out part easily because I've daydreamed about what I'd say, but didn't know how to write the reaction was a funny realisation for me though.

»»————-　★　————-««

For the past three months, you had been working on replicating an antidote to the Red Room’s mind control, under the supervision of one Melina Vostokoff. She had been a unique employer, providing you with a room, home-cooked meals, her company, and of course some very generous pay.

It's why – instead of the usual joy at a successful test run – you were filled with a bittersweet feeling, already imagining your departure from Melina's cabin and the subsequent job search you'd have to endure.

But then Melina asked you to stay on, just a couple of weeks, to pass on the serum to Yelena and see the project through to the very end. You accepted without hesitation, not least out of curiosity to finally meet the one of the daughters that you had heard so much about.

“You will be sharing a room,” Melina informed you only hours before her daughter’s arrival, “it is technically her room.”

You had no time to comment further, with the scientist sweeping past you in a hurry to prepare the space, but you managed a nod of acknowledgement. You’d put two and two together anyway; your room was the one with two beds.

»»————-　★　————-««

With cameras and tripwires monitoring every motion in a two-mile radius, nothing could ever truly surprise Melina, but the jet touching down in the Russian wilderness outside her house couldn't surprise anyone. Yet, as the cameras tracked the blonde assassin on her path, the house fell into a lull of silence – only broken by a key in the door and a “мама, I’m home!”; the sound of which caused Melina to rush to the door with an Oscar-worthy performance of surprise.

“Yelena, welcome, welcome, we have the serum for you but come in, sit down. This is Y/N.”

You waved from the corner.

Yelena smiled at you even as she was ushered away. There was an understanding in her eyes that conveyed both of your apologies – her apologising for her mother, and you for your interruption to their family reunion.

By night, things became even more awkward when, after an evening of eating and drinking and catching up and more drinking, the Red Room trainees finally decided to call it a night. Melina returned to her bedroom while Yelena slunk into yours, where she moved with abnormal quietness until you announced that you were still awake.

“That makes this easier,” she said.

“It does,” you replied.

“We have not spoken properly yet, without Melina interrupting. I am sorry for how… pushy she is.”

“That’s not for you to apologise for, Yelena. Besides, I could see it in your expressions that you’re just as used to it as I am; it’s just how she is.”

Yelena was in bed by then, the two of you turned on your sides to face one another.

“You are staying here now? Then you have it worse. I do not mean to intrude on your space here.”

“If anyone’s intruding, it’s me,” you almost laughed, “Melina told me this was your bedroom first.”

“It is a spare room. No more yours than mine. My room is in Ohio, in a house Natasha bought.”

“Then I suppose neither of us is intruding. Goodnight, Yelena.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

»»————-　★　————-««

After such a short conversation, you still knew very little about Yelena. And if you wanted to find out any more, it was already too late: the Widow was gone by morning.

You learnt later on that the behaviour was normal for girls trained in the Red Room. Melina and Yelena had spoken about preparations the night before, leaving the younger assassin free to disappear the moment she'd had adequate rest.

Despite sharing only one conversation with her, a deep sense of disappointment dwelled in your heart when you woke to find her empty bed. Maybe it had been too long with only Melina as company, but you felt some kinship with Yelena, and you wished you could have at least said goodbye.

What you didn't know then would change all that, with the plans the future held for the two of you. Or, to be more accurate, the plans Melina held. Your non-verbal communications with Yelena while Melina talked had not gone unnoticed by the older Widow. So not only had she grown fond of your presence, but she knew her daughter had as well, and what better reason to ask you to stay than for that?

The woman presented you with a list of her rationales: the need for large batches of serum, the side projects the scientist needed help on, and, of course, your proven skill as a chemist. But to both you and Melina, no reason was more important than the bond you'd built with her daughter, because (as she told you later on) ‘everyone knows that girl needs socialising’, and she'd determined you were perfect for the job.

You didn't need to think twice, accepting her proposition in a heartbeat. 

As the years passed, your working relationship with Melina only strengthened, expanding into your daily lives too when she began treating you as another member of the family, like the child who stayed home. You couldn't complain, but the highlights were always Yelena’s visits, sporadic as they may be, and the energy that came with it. For Yelena, nights spent in the farmhouse talking about menial subjects, or the work you did in the lab, afforded her a sense of calm she missed while on her missions. While for you, tales of her escapades kept your mind racing, and Yelena became the friend you'd always wanted to have: close enough to be siblings, but without the bickering that came with it.

It was on one such visit that Yelena brought up the topic that would change both of your lives forever. One you had thought about, but didn't have the words to express.

"You know what I like about you, Y/N?" was what Yelena said suddenly, her voice breaking through the hush of the nighttime quiet.

"What?" came your sleep-laced reply.

"You never ask me about my dating life," she softly whispered, "my mother does. All the time. The first thing after I'm through the door: 'Oh does my daughter have anyone special yet?'. But you never do."

"Melina asks enough for the both of us. It's never been a priority of mine, so why pry?"

"You don't want to know?"

"If you have a partner that you want to tell me about, then of course I'll listen. But we've known each other for years now 'Lena -- practically family -- so I know that if you want to tell me then you'll tell me."

In every pause, the silence started to engulf the space, stealing every word before it could even be breathed, but Yelena was determined.

"Have you ever..." another pause, "I don't know if there will ever be something to tell you. If I will ever get a partner. If I had one I would tell you! I really would! But I don't- I don't know if-"

"I get it, Yelena, probably more than you know.”

This would be the perfect opportunity to tell her, you thought, but you swallowed that idea down once again. It's too sudden. You're taking away from her conversation. There's nowhere to go if she reacts poorly. A swirl of nerves paralysed your actions until you heard Yelena shuffle over in bed, turning away from you.

It was too late, the moment had passed, and your confession would have to wait for another day.

»»————-　★　————-««

That day came many months later, on Yelena's next visit to the farm you called home. She decided to stay an extra night, giving the two of you a day together without responsibilities -- of course, you were supposed to work, but Melina excused you with a wave of her hand, telling you to go entertain yourself with Yelena'a company.

You'd prepared yourself this time, and despite the rushing fears in your head telling you 'just a little bit longer', you forged on and began the conversation with Yelena while she sat beside you on the couch.

"You remember last time?" you asked nervously, "when we talked about dating, or lack of it?"

"Oh, don't tell me, you have got a partner!" With the way Yelena's eyes lit up, you almost hesitated to say the rest. But you also saw beyond it, in the depths of her eyes that you'd come to read so well, you saw fear; it was a feeling you'd experienced many a time before, the fear and worry of losing a friend to the world of romance -- it was because of this that you knew you had to go on.

"No. Almost... the opposite actually."

Relief flooded her eyes, though she masked it with a sorrow you knew she'd been trained to show.

"I am not attracted to men. Or to women. Or to anyone else." That familiar recognition flickered in the assassin. "There's a term for it: aromantic and asexual -- aroace. I don't know if I will date; I would like to put the effort in for someone and have them care for me back, but no matter how things go, I will never be dating in the way people expect of me, because I am aroace."

You sighed, the confession finally reaching the ears of the one you wanted to tell it to, but you still awaited the reaction. Nervous eyes rose from the hands in your lap to meet the eyes of your closest confidant, searching every millimetre of her face for a clue. Gone was the hint of recognition, only to be replaced by a look you had rarely seen in Yelena: pride.

Still with words unspoken, she sprung forward, wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you close, before she finally began to whisper words of encouragement. She told you of her pride in your bravery, her acknowledgement of your fears, reassurance of her acceptance, and, most importantly to you, her recognition of the experience you'd described.

Any questioning about that recognition was promptly (and not so subtly) redirected back to your coming out. You accepted the tangents and questions and dropped the subject for the time being. Yelena would tell you when she needed to, but she wasn't ready yet. So, just like your own attempt, Yelena's confession would have to wait.

»»————-　★　————-««

For Yelena, that wait took slightly longer – not much time to question your sexuality when you're fighting for your life, you imagined. But the day still came, several visits later.

It mimicked that first night you two spent together, with you already in bed and Yelena shuffling around the room when she began to speak.

“I've been thinking…”

You hummed to let her know you were listening.

“Natasha asked me if I was a lesbian the other day, but I'm not. I'm not…anything. I don't feel anything. What you said about not being attracted to anyone, is the closest I've felt to explaining it, but it's not quite the same – I really wouldn't want to date anyone, ever, and I'm okay with that. I looked it up. So I think I might be aroace too.”

Yelena sat on the edge of her bed, facing you but with her head down and her hands fidgeting in her lap. You moved into action immediately; you rolled out of bed, took a seat beside her, and draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close.

“I'm proud of you,” you told her, “and all your choices. Thank you for trusting me.”

Yelena smiled, though it fell as her eyes drifted to yours. “Does it ever get lonely?”

“It can do. Other people's opinions can make it worse. But you'll always have me, just as I always had you; we'll get through life in our own way.”

“I've known for a while,” she confessed again.

“I know.”

“I've known I didn't want to date but…that is what the Red Room encouraged – that love is for children. But everyone else falls in love, even Natasha, and I worry I am still not free of their conditioning.”

Yelena looked up at you then, her eyes full of worry and betraying the insecurity she still felt. You know then that she'd told you just as she was coming to terms with it herself, and felt your heart swell again at her trust in you. And yet, you couldn't be sure of quite what to say; you may be a scientist, but this was beyond your area of expertise.

“I think you're free to trust your gut,” you finally said, “even if it complies with what they taught you.”

There was silence as both you and Yelena settled back into your own beds, and then you continued. “Labels can change if you do. But you know what's best for you now.”

“I do,” Yelena whispered shyly. “Thank you, Y/N, and goodnight.”

“Goodnight Yelena; sleep well.”

»»————-　★　————-««

taglist: @canvascoloredin@fxckmiup@wizardofstories

#yelena belova #aroace yelena belova #yelena belova & reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova imagine #aroace y/n #aroace reader #yelena belova & y/n #yelena belova & you

[floffytofu]

Random twil'ek girl at cantina : i hear jedi is a virgin, but don't worry i can teach you things to loose your muscles.

Reader : no.

The girl : what?

Reader : i said no, you wanna hear it in mando'a? nayc.

***

Force ghost Obi-wan : *proud dad noises*

Force ghost Anakin : bohoo virgin

#reader is older #after rotj timeline #star wars #obi wan kenobi #padawan reader #anakin skywalker #star wars incorrect quotes #aroace reader #mando'a

[spidey-bie]

I actually don't do requests but since you asked so nicely (and I also already had this in my drafts for like the longest but I never finished it.)

Hobie x Black G/N Reader

TW: Physical Touch

Hobie Brown is a proud aroace relationship anarchist who's constantly sticking a middle finger up at amatonormativity. Idc idc.

You wanna have a qpr? Try and stop him. (Don't do that he's got Spidey strength.)

If or when you start living together you both either take turns cooking or you cook together.

(Also I feel like he can't bake for anything but his food is the bomb)

If you wanna share rooms he's cool with that.

If you want separate rooms he's cool with that too.

But either way y'all definitely have a big sleepover/movie night in the living room at least once a week.

"Mate, you just had to get in the car. You'd still be alive if you just used your head."

"Bie you know they had to kill the black guy first. It's a horror movie."

You hang out in the back stage during his shows and he takes you with him to go pub hopping afterwards.

You both infodump to one another. He can go off on tangents for hours about a lot of different things. Whether it's something political or just his favorite artists.

If you're not British then he teaches you British slang so you can understand what he's saying. (In turn you teach him some AAVE and y'all mess with Miles and Gwen by using both simultaneously.)

His love language is physical touch but not in like the traditional romantic sense. He's the type to just lay his entire body weight on you while your both lounging around. Or he'll drape himself up against you if your both standing.

If you don't like the word love he finds roundabout ways to tell you that he appreciates and cares for you. Or he just shows it via his actions.

Both of you go out on weekly outings together. (they're not dates because you aren't dating)

He either takes you to really obscure places or he sneaks you into his favorite artist's shows.

Let's you steal borrow his clothes. He knows if he's missing something he just has to go looking for you.

"Is that my jumper on your bed?" "If you mean our jumper then yes."

I just know that he knows where to find the best cheap hair products. (If you don't like to steal. Lame.)

I personally feel like he doesn't do much with his own hair. He got his locs installed one day and has just never touched it ever again but after hearing you lecture on about hair health he joins you on your wash days.

"I don't see why we have to feed into the idea of black hair being neat so that we can be palatable to those in power." He was leaning face first into the kitchen sink. "True. It doesn't have to be neat to be beautiful. But it at least has to be clean and watching you scratch makes me itch. Now close your eyes so i can rinse."

Edit: I modified the last one because I didn't agree with it anymore.

A/N: The autism won't let me hyperfocus on anything aside from Hobie at the moment. It's a curse but you don't hear me complaining lol. I looked into the difference between locs, dreads, and wicks for this and now I'm contemplating growing my hair out again.

#amatonormativity can suck my dick #ace hobie is here to stay #idc #i have never seen a man so aroace shaped #ace hobie #queerplatonic relationship #hobie x black!reader #hobie x black reader #hobie brown x black!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black reader #hobie x reader #black reader #my bae [🎸] #hobie brown headcanons #aroace reader #jay and the spiders #aro hobie #cory writes

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Hi! Would I be able to request a fic for coming out to Yelena Belova (MCU. Sorry for spelling on last name) as Aroace, please?

oh absolutely! I know there's some discourse about whether Yelena herself is "technically" aroace or not but I personally believe she is, so this fic (and everything I write with her) will reflect that. I'm not aroace so if there's anything inaccurate please let me know and I'll make sure to change it. hope you like it! <3

A Lot More Similar (platonic! Yelena Belova x reader)

Warnings: Yelena calls the reader "dude" but it's meant in a casual gender neutral way, very brief and mild swearing, Yelena and the reader drink beer in this

"Hey, Yelena, can I talk to you about something?" You asked somewhat nervously, giving her a glance.

You were both sitting on the couch watching trashy reality TV and making fun of the people on it when you were suddenly hit with the urge to come out to her. You figured that now was as good of a time as ever, and that you were as ready as you'd ever be.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?" She asked casually, not having noticed how nervous you were.

You took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts before continuing. "I- I think I'm aroace. Actually, no, that's wrong. I am aroace." You tried to be confident when you spoke, even though you were terrified to hear her reaction.

Much to your surprise, she just shrugged and said, "Okay."

"Really?" You asked in confusion.

Yelena snorted in laughter before responding. "No, I hate you. Get out of my house." She said sarcastically while pointing towards the door.

You had to laugh, realizing just how ridiculous it was for anyone to not be accepted just for being themself. "Wait, but seriously, though. You're really okay with it?"

"Yeah, dude, of course." She took a swig of her beer before leaning back on the sofa again. "Why would I have a problem with it? Hell, I'm aroace."

"You are?" It was difficult to hide the surprise in your voice, causing Yelena to laugh again.

"Of course I am. I mean, it's not something I like to make a big deal of, but I don't exactly plan on really hiding it, either."

You nodded your head as you started to understand where Yelena was coming from. "Yeah, that makes sense. I guess we're a lot more similar than I thought."

She made a sound of agreement. "Yup, we're both aroace, we both like pizza and beer, and we both hate crappy reality shows."

Laughing, you held up your beer bottle. "I'll drink to that."

Yelena smiled, lifting up her own drink. "Cheers."

Likes < reblogs | PLEASE REBLOG if you like what you read

Main masterlist | MCU masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @taecube @gilmore-angel @xxromanoffxx @your-next-daydream @whistle1whistle @alexxavicry @elenavampire21 @truthindreams-blog1 @the-nightowl-blr @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @defstr8bl0nd13 (if you were crossed out it means I couldn't tag you for some reason)

#gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #x gn reader #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel fic #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #mcu fic #yelena belova #yelena belova imagines #yelena belova imagine #platonic yelena belova x reader #platonic! yelena belova x reader #aroace reader #aro ace reader

[theroseredreaper]

Let’s Talk About Love

Shall We Date?: Obey Me! One Master To Rule Them All!

Summary: Levi doesn’t understand why you keep choosing him over his brothers time and time again. He can’t offer you the same things that they would be able to offer you.

Word Count: 2174 ✯ AO3 Version

Characters: Aromantic! Asexual! Leviathan x Aromantic! Asexual! GN! Reader

Tags: Fluff, aroace reader x aroace character, discussions of aromanticism, discussions of queer platonic relationships, autistic-coded Levi

Jealousy was an emotion that Leviathan spent the whole of his existence being intimately familiar with. Such a thing is no surprise, really - he transformed into the Avatar of Envy after his fall from heaven, afterall. Envy was a black, ugly feeling that he lived with too closely anytime he didn't drown himself in his manga, anime, or games to escape from it.

Inferiority was another emotion he knew just as well, even if he experienced it less often, since he shut himself away in his room most everyday so that he wouldn't have to deal with the overwhelming weight of all he was lacking that came with inferiority. That and so he wouldn't have to deal with his social anxiety, too.

Inferiority was, unfortunately, something he was feeling way too much lately, ever since you have come to the Devildom and wormed your way into his family’s life. Watching his brothers all fawn over you around the breakfast table, the inferiority was especially oppressive today. Each of them had a different approach to you, but he knew that each one of them was in love with you.

Mammon was the most obvious about his being in love with you with how he constantly tried to get your attention and monopolize your time, even if he wasn’t entirely honest about his feelings. Satan was slightly more devious about it, covering up his shyness over outright saying his feelings by straight-forward actions, flirting with you and asking you out on dates. Belphegor was territorial and possessive of you, easily upset when your thoughts and time weren’t devoted to him, wanting to monopolize you in a way that was much less wholesome than how Mammon desired to monopolize your time.

Levi sincerely hopes that his younger brother was not a yandere, like the kinds he sometimes saw in his manga and anime. For your safety as well as the safety of the rest of them.

Asmodeus flirted with you just as he flirted with every person he found attractive, but Levi knows that Asmo’s love for you was genuine in that you were the only person allowed to see the true insecurities lying under the air-headed facade Asmo maintained. Lucifer desired you just as Asmo desired you, openly fond of you when he thought no one else was watching, being severely strict upon you to try and maintain the idea that he had no favoritism towards you when he thought people were watching. Beelzebub - well, Levi actually wasn’t sure that Beel experienced love or desire for anything that wasn’t food. But he did know that it definitely meant something that his younger brother willingly shared food with you and cooked for you.

As soon as Lucifer dismissed them from the breakfast table, Levi made a beeline for his room, itching to bury himself under a blanket to try and not thinking about the whirlwind of barbed thoughts running through his mind right now.

Leviathan himself, well...he is fairly sure that he does love you too, in some capacity. He knows for a fact that he cares for you deeply, that he’s fond of you, and that he finds himself wanting to share his special interests with you - but he’s also aware, somewhere in the back of his mind, that the way he feels about you is not the same way that his brothers feel about you. He’s painfully conscious of the fact that even when these tangle of emotions confuse him when he thinks on them too long that he’s not, not in love with you. At least, not like how Satan and Mammon are in love with you. And he doesn’t desire you either, not the way that Lucifer and Asmodeus desire you.

The inferiority that overcomes him whenever he acknowledges these thoughts, these feelings, that he can’t offer to you what his brothers can, yet selfishly desiring to spend every waking moment he could just enjoying your company...it makes him want to just curl up under his blankets, blocking out all the lights of his room, their lights brighter than usual in his heightened emotional distress, blocking out all the buzzing of his electronics with his headphones, just blocking out the world entirely, trying to block out his mind at the same time.

Why - despite his brothers constantly vying for your time, attention, and affections - do you continue to keep choosing him out of all them to spend all your time with?

“Levi? Are you in there?” you called from outside his bedroom door with a knock, “I wanted to watch the new TSL DVD with you, if you were still up for that?”

Levi groggily unfurled himself from his blanket nest, squinting at the brightness of his phone, faintly surprised that he had basically let himself pass the whole day away hiding under his blankets.

“I can go if you aren’t feeling well…”

Rubbing at his eyes, Levi pulled himself out of his tub-bed with a grimace, striding over and opening the door for you, before turning back and disappearing back into his room so he wouldn’t have to deal with the brightness of the hall lights, “I’ll set up the movie once I find it. You can set up the pillows.”

Entering his room, you were caught over by the big nest of blankets all heaped in the tub-bed already, and looking over at Leviathan, you could see his tail sticking out from the one blanket that was still wrapped about him like a hood, his tail flicking up and down rapidly. Levi was obviously really upset about something.

Pursing your lips, contemplating if you should just straight up give him a hug, or ask him what was wrong first, then give him the hug, you picked out the pillows that you know were Levi’s favorites and arranged the tub-bed to be as comfy as possible. Nodding in satisfaction, you turned to see Levi still rummaging through his stack of DVDs, head drooped and tail still flicking with irritation. He seemed as though he was lost in thought.

“Levi? Are you okay?”

He startled, dropping the DVDs he was holding and tipping over the whole stack. Feeling positively horrible that you startled him like that, you quickly rushed over to help him pick up the fallen DVDs.

“I’m fine, I’m just really tired,” he mumbled as he avoided eye-contact, picking up DVD after DVD quickly.

You sighed softly, gently putting a hand on his arm and stopping him, “You’re in your demon form, Levi. You morph into your demon form whenever you’re upset. ...can I give you a hug?”

He hesitated for a moment before he nodded, putting aside the DVDs onto his desk. You wrapped him up in a huge hug, patting his back gently, and Levi found himself relaxing into your tender embrace, resting his cheek against your head, exhaling long and slow. He already felt loads better.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s...it’s fine. It’s...silly. I don’t want to bother you with - “

You squeezed him gently, tightening your arms around him, “Levi. You are never a bother to me. And your feelings are never, ever ‘silly.’ Okay? Your feelings are important, just like how you’re important. Okay? Now, talk to me, Levi. What’s wrong? Why’re you upset?”

Levi trembled at the utter anxiety clogging his throat up at just the mere thought of trying to express what he was feeling out loud, hiding his face in your hair as he held you close, “It’s..it’s, um…”

“You can take all the time you need,” you quietly encouraged him, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his back.

Shakily taking a breath, he tried again, “I, um...All my brothers...they’re in love with you. But I...I don’t love you. Ah, but that’s - ! That’s not - ! It’s, that’s, what I meant, is that, I don’t...I don’t love you the same way they do. I...I can't give you the same kind of love they would, so I don’t - I don’t understand why you...why keep choosing to spend all your time with...with someone like me…”

You stood quietly, letting his words wash over you as you processed what he was telling you. Pulling away from the hug with careful movements, you looked up at Levi to see he had his eyes anxiously squeezed shut, likely afraid of what your reaction would be to his words.

“Levi, look at me. Please,” you asked him, keeping your voice hushed, knowing how he became hyper sensitive when his emotions were high strung.

He hesitantly opened his eyes, looking down at you, heart near stopping at how you were looking at him with such...utter understanding.

You took his hands and sat him down in the nest of pillows and blankets you had set up in his tub-bed, plopping down next him.

“I keep choosing you to spend all my time with because I like you, Levi.”

Levi sat straight up, struggling against sinking into all the pillows, “But - !”

“I’m not interest in what your brothers have to offer me, either.”

“But I - “

You turned to look up at him, avoiding eye contact so that you wouldn’t make him uncomfortable with how distraught he already was, “I don’t return any of their feelings. And I don’t expect you to feel any differently for me than you already do. Have you aromanticism, Levi?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question Levi shook his head.

“Aromanticism is when a person very rarely, or never, feels romantic attraction.”

Levi gaped at you, “That’s - that’s a real thing?!”

“It is,” you nodded, smiling fondly at him, “There’s an entire spectrum, for all the different ways a person experiences aromanticism.”

Levi slumped back into the pillows and blankets, sinking into them as he stared at the ceiling in wonderment, mulling over what you had just told him. He sat up suddenly, struggling to not sit back into the bed again,

“Wait! Are you aromantic?”

You nodded, smiling at him all the same, “Yeah. I am. I’m asexual too. Asexuality means that you rarely or never feel sexual attraction. There’s a whole spectrum to how people experience asexuality too.”

Leviathan stared at you, utterly wowed, trying to figure out how to say what he was feeling, inhaling sharply, “I - I think I might be aromantic and, and asexual…”

You grinned as you pulled him into another big hug and he returned the hug, and Levi found himself grinning too as he returned the hug, his tail rapidly thumping against the pillows all around the both of you, but this time it was because he was excited to learn this new thing you just told him about.

“...there’s nothing wrong with me,” Leviathan murmured, finally allowing himself to sink back into the pillows and blankets and stay there.

“There was nothing wrong with you to begin with,” you agree, sinking into the pillows and blankets beside him, feeling comfortable and safe in his arms.

“...but you know, I...I feel really deeply for you, but I do know that I don’t want to like, be your boyfriend or anything, but I, I do want to spend like - agh, I’m not making any sense, am I…?” he huffed, hiding his face into the pillows, frustrated with himself.

“No, I get it,” you reassured him, poking at him to try and get him to stop hiding, “Do you know what a queer platonic relationship is?”

Levi peeked up at you, face adorably scrunched up in confusion, “Huh? A what?”

“I’m guessing not,” you giggled, cuddling up close, “Let’s see...a QPR is something more intense than friendship, but isn’t exactly romantic. The lines between platonic feelings and romantic feelings can be blurred and it can be hard for both people involved to really understand how they feel about each other fully. They can include friendships and ambiguously-romantic relationships that go beyond friendship norms in emotional intensity, physical affection, or other areas. Some QPR partners get married. A QPR can look different for everyone, depending on what the people involved are comfortable with and how they feel for each other.”

Levi mouthed out a “wow,” thinking this over, “So what I feel…”

You squished his cheeks together playfully, giggling, “I understand what you feel entirely. In fact, I feel the same. You just learned a lot in a few minutes, but...I really like you, Levi. Would you want to be my queer platonic partner?”

He gaped at you, before laughing excitedly, nodding and pulling you into an even tighter hug, positively delighted. You returned the hug just as happily, resting your head on his shoulder. The two of you pulled back to smile at each other, the world feeling perfectly in balance at this new decision that the two of you made together.

That evening, the two of you thoroughly enjoyed the new TSL DVD together, cuddling under the light of the movie that played on Levi’s large flat screen television.

Likes and reblogs are loved and appreciated!

#obey me leviathan x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #aroace reader #asexual reader #aromantic reader #obey me x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

[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.

#riddler fanfic #platonic riddler fanfic #queerplatonic riddler fanfic #platonic riddler x reader #queerplatonic riddler x reader #riddler & reader #the riddler #riddler #edward nygma #edward nigma #dc fanfic #aspec reader #oriented aroace reader #aroace reader #autistic reader #queerplatonic x reader #not tagging normal riddler x reader in case people have filtered it out bc they're sick of seeing smut on the dash #i am aware that there is quite possibly nothing else out there with some of these tags. but we can change that.

[rhys-writes-some-shit]

The Dilemma of a Rubber Duck

Alastor x Reader (Queer-Platonic) ft. Bestie Lucifer

(TW: Mentions of depression, mentions of suicide attempts)

You knew Alastor didn’t like Lucifer. You weren’t 100% sure why, only that the King of Hell really got on Alastor’s nerves. Ever since Lucifer had moved into the hotel in the aftermath of the battle with the angels, Alastor had spent hours ranting and raving to you about him. They were constantly trying to one-up each other. It was comical, really.

Except that you were stuck in the middle of it. 

Unlike Alastor, you and Lucifer had hit it off right away, getting along like two peas in a pod. There was a certain camaraderie that came with being clinically depressed and still having to force a smile, which both you and Lucifer were experts at. Many late nights had been spent exchanging stories and finding humor in things other people might not otherwise find humorous. 

(“I tried to kill myself twice, and then end up getting hit by a car! That’s how I end up in Hell? What did I do all that work for?” That was the first time that story had been met with laughter, and that was when you knew Lucifer was a good guy.)

You were constantly thinking about how Alastor would react to knowing you enjoyed hanging out with Lucifer, or vice versa. It worried you to no end, so you tried to keep your friendship with Lucifer under wraps, for Alastor’s sake. He needed someone to back him up, and you wanted to be that person. You wanted Alastor to know he could trust you.

One evening, you and Lucifer were talking in the parlor, drinking tea. Alastor was out for a fancy Overlord meeting, so you were able to relax a bit. 

“I’m so glad we have Niffty around,” you were saying. “Sometimes I just can’t find the energy to do my laundry, but I know that if I leave it on the floor, she’ll take care of it right away.” You thought for a moment. “It’s not like I’m forcing her to do it. Or taking advantage of her. Right?”

“Nah, I thought cleaning was her job,” Lucifer reassured. “My loophole with that is all my outfits are the same. Also magic. Magic is very helpful.”

“Man, I’m jealous!” You gave a lighthearted groan. “I wish I could have magic like that.”

“Who’s saying you can’t?” Lucifer shrugged, sipping at his tea. 

You snorted. “Have you seen me? Do I look like Overlord material to you?”

“I didn’t think Mr. Crimson Asshole was an Overlord, so looks aren’t everything.” Lucifer hesitated. “Oh, shit, I shouldn’t have said it like that. You two are like, dating, right?”

You made a ‘fifty-fifty’ gesture with your hand. “Eh… Not really? It’s like… a mutual relationship. Neither of us are the ‘dating’ type, so we just kind of… vibe. But it’s fine, I get it. You should hear the things he says about you.”

“Oh?” Lucifer leaned forward, curious. You mimed zipping your lips, grinning playfully. “Alrighty then, keep your secrets.”

The feeling of guilt you’d been getting used to returned, but you smiled past it. If there was anything Alastor taught you, it was that you could hide everyone behind a smile. And it worked, for the most part. The only person who’d ever been able to see though it was Alastor himself. Similarly, you were the only person able to see through his ever-present smile.

Setting his cup down, Lucifer waited for a lull in the conversation. “Before I forget, I have something for you.” With a wave of his hand, a little yellow rubber duck appeared in his palm. Its features and markings made it resemble you. 

Eyes wide, you carefully took the duck from his hands like it were an actual duckling.

“This one doesn’t breathe fire or anything, but…” Lucifer paused, like he was struggling for words. “I haven't had a real friend in… a really long time. S-so I wanted to thank you. For that.”

You were at a loss for words. The only other person to get you gifts since you’d died had been Alastor. That feeling of guilt hit you like a train, but it was masked with a bright, grateful smile.

“Lucifer, I… I’m honored. Thank you.” You struggled to tear your eyes away from the duck. “Can I hug you?”

Instead of replying, Lucifer pulled you out of your chair, hugging you close. You matched it, hoping your appreciation for his existence was properly conveyed.

“Ahem.”

You and Lucifer pushed each other apart like a teenage couple caught making out. Alastor was standing in the entrance to the parlor, teeth bared. His grin was sharp, borderline violent, and his eyes were narrowed. 

“Al,” you tried, but no other words followed.

Then Alastor sighed, and the murderous look in his eyes disappeared. You were still holding the duck Lucifer had given you. Looking down, you realized you were shaking, and felt a little faint. 

You stumbled back, right into Alastor’s arms. Head spinning, you allowed him to set you down on the chair. Alastor kept a hand on your arm, watching your every movement with surgical focus. He knew, you realized. He knew how guilty you felt, how much anxiety it was causing you. How long he’d known, you had no idea, but you could feel it in the way he wouldn’t let you go. You didn’t want him to let you go. 

“Are you okay?” Lucifer looked frantic, obviously worried. “Do you need water? Something to eat? Medicine? I’m sure there’s some around here somewhere, if you just give me a minute—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, trying to muster a smile. You failed. How Alastor held his grin all day, every day, was a mystery to you. “Well, okay, maybe not fine.”

“They could use water,” Alastor provided, only a slight edge in his voice. Nodding, Lucifer ran off to get a glass of water, leaving you and Alastor alone in the parlor. 

Alastor was silent for a moment. You could tell he was trying to figure out what to say. “I apologize for not noticing your anxiety sooner.” A little joy fluttered in your chest. Alastor enjoyed watching everyone’s suffering—everyone except for you.

“It’s not your fault,” you told him. “I should’ve been more upfront. I just…” You were still a little shaky. Alastor’s hand moved so it rested over your hand. The rubber duck was still in your other hand, and you turned it over with your fingers, fidgeting with it. “I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“Now that is nonsense if I ever heard any!” Alastor laughed. “What a ridiculous sentiment, my dear. It would take more than that to take me from you, I assure you.”

“But I know how much you hate him.” You looked towards the direction Lucifer had gone. “You hate that he’s here. You hate that he’s meddling. And this is just another reason to hate him.”

Alastor was contemplating his words again when Lucifer came back. He gently handed you the glass of water, causing you to have to put your duck down. Alastor was right to ask for it—the water helped. The air was tense as Lucifer and Alastor glared at one another while also keeping an eye on you. 

“When you are happy, I am happy,” Alastor said out of the blue. Both you and Lucifer looked to him for clarification. “If talking with Lucifer makes you happy…” Alastor swallowed, gritting his teeth, glowering deeply at Lucifer, “then, by that logic, it makes me happy.”

“Hey, same here.” Lucifer put his arms up symbolically. “I’m not gonna leave my friend just because I hate their boyfriend– er, whatever you are, that is.”

“Partner,” you and Alastor said in unison.

“Right. That.” 

The air was still tense, but it made you feel better knowing that Alastor and Lucifer wouldn’t be fighting over you, at the very least. 

“Okay,” you said suddenly, having finished your water. “I’m going to bed. Thanks again for the duck, Lucifer.”

You barely heard Alastor growl at Lucifer upon realizing that he’d given you a gift, but it just caused you to smile fondly. Alastor was quick to step in beside you, taking your arm to escort you up to your room. 

“You’re welcome!” Lucifer called back. “But don’t think that just because you and Alastor are partners that I’ll make one for him too!” You had to stifle a laugh. Lucifer was too sweet for his own good, no matter how awkward it made him seem.

You turned so Lucifer could see your grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader queerplatonic #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader platonic #lucifer and alastor #i wrote this instead of doing my homework #aroace reader #aroace alastor #lucifer is trying his hardest #rhys-writes

[jiabeewrites]

Some Things Are Meant To Be

Aroace!Cassandra Cain x GN!Aroace!Reader

APOLOGIES FOR BEING GONE AND STUFF-

But I just listened to a GORGEOUS cover of Can't Help Falling In Love and now I need Cass x reader but a qpr. So. That's what you get now. Because I am a SIMP for aroace cass. This could definitely be read as a romantic pairing...but I headcanon Cass as aroace/aspec, therefore the pairing between the reader and Cass is a qpr.

Have some fluffy moments with cass!

(black bat/orphan aesthetic made by @aesthetics-and-fuckery, aka me. Do not steal!)

HOW TO READ: Each set of lyrics is kinda like a divider! each section of words/blurb between the lyrics are their own story, and this particular piece has multiple little moments. Definitely timeskips. You can find more stories like this one by looking under the tag #ryn writes songfics (I HAVE MORE COMING BE PATIENT)

CW: reader is in law school, reader's vigilante name is Echo (echolocation, bats, idk), lack of romance, swearing, pining, lack of y/n, reader is wearing a tux but everybody looks hot in a tux so that's what i put

Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you

You stood in the doorway, and that's where you saw her. Smiling with her family, looking happier than ever.

Jason came up behind you.

"Looking for something?" He asked, grinning knowingly. You just shook your head, smiling.

"She's perfect, Jason, and I'm...me." He chuckled.

"Look, you either need to keep pining unromatically for the rest of your life, or grow a pair and straight up tell her. Pardon the expression." You laughed, and then looked at your best friend.

"You sure, Jay?"

"Oh I'm sure, Your Honor."

The two of you walked over and joined the group. You sat down sat down next to her, and squeezed her hand.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you?

Your weekly study session was over, and just as Cass was about to leave the library, you did either very bold or very stupid. Probably both.

"Hey, um, Cass?"

She turned around to look at you.

"I know you're aroace, but...um, hoco's coming up in a few weeks, and I was wondering if you'd wanna go with me?"

To your surprise, she grinned and nodded.

"I'd love to go with you."

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

You figeted with the hem of your blazer, and finally worked up the nerves to ring the doorbell.

Alfred's warm smile greeted you.

"You look lovely, my dear."

"Thanks, Al."

And then you saw her.

The light hit her dress so that she looked like a goddess, and her hair, which was usually down, was styled in a half-up-half-down look. She was wearing the rings that you'd given her the last time all of you went to Pride.

She walked over to you and smiled.

"You look...great."

"So do you."

Then the boys burst your moment and started clapping, wolf-whistling and other obnoxious things.

"Oh, god," you muttered. She laughed, took your hand and led you to the door.

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you

The stares of a million eyes bored into you. Some jealous, others disgusted, and some simply facinated.

But one squeeze blew them all away.

"Ignore them. Not worth your time."

You smiled at her, thankful for the distraction.

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

Three years later, the familiar chords of a song started to play, and you looked across the table and smiled at her.

"May I have this dance, milady?"

She laughed at your dramatics, and nodded.

As the two of you swayed, you realized something.

"Cass?"

"Mm?"

"I think I love you."

She laughed, then pressed her lips to your forehead.

"I love you, too."

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you For I can't help falling in love with you

#cassandra cain #cassandra cain x you #cassandra cain x reader #aroace!cassandra cain #aroace cassandra cain #aroace #aroace reader #qpr #ryn writes songfics

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Best Place to Sleep (Commander Fox x GN Asexual Aromantic Reader)

Fox x Asexual Aromantic Reader

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: minors DNI, some chaste kissing, bed sharing, reader is sex-repulsed aroace who is particular about kissing

A/N: I wrote these headcanons for clones with ace partners and basically now I want to write at least one fic for each clone with a partner who is somewhere on the aroace spectrum.  (I’m taking requests if you have any.)  Ultimately the relationship in this one is going to be a queerplatonic partnership with I love yous. Similar vibes to the Rex fic I posted a few weeks back, but different scenario for our boy Fox who would definitely wear pajamas all day every day if he could.

Also I'm sorry. I had an outline for this and then I started writing and it sprouted legs and went down its own path, so it took a little while to put together.

It started when you literally ran into Commander Fox while running between senators’ offices. You assisted the senator from your home planet, but half the time felt like a senate page running flimsi documents around as bills were written and rewritten.

You turned the corner with piles of flimsi and two datapads in your arms and practically dumped it all on a certain clone’s chest. At first you sensed annoyance under his bucket, but then he kneeled down to help you gather everything.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“It’s alright,” he sighed.  He seemed tired, but it was the middle of the day.

“Can I get you some caf as an apology… Com…man…der??” You weren’t exactly sure of his rank. 

You heard a little chuckle. “Fox. Commander Fox.” He shrugged. “Sure.”  He walked you to your destination where you unceremoniously dumped all the documents and datapads on a desk and walked out. This was more important and your day was nearly done anyway. The senator had gone home for some event, so surely you could get this nice man some caf before heading home yourself.

You walked to the cafe nearby and ordered drinks.  Once you sat down, he took his helmet off.  Sure, he was a clone, but there was a familiarity there, like you knew some things about him before he even spoke. You were both tired from long days, but sipping that caf seemed to calm you both.  You made polite conversation and then it turned into frank discussions of your jobs.  Relating to Fox, even for a brief time, helped relieve some stress.  You invited him for caf the next week and before you knew it, the two of you always had a reason to run into each other and catch up over caf.

Eventually you decided to ask him over to your place. You were appalled when he shared the food he was limited to eating and clones didn’t really make credits, so going out and trying new things was out of the question for him. Until now. You had no problem introducing him to the concept of take out food.  He wasn’t sure what to order so you ordered an abundance of things which he helped carry to your home.  You opened the door for him.  It wasn’t much, but it was your space and you were grateful for quiet, respectful neighbors. He looked around in awe.

“You have your own couch?! A kitchen, your own refresher, and I bet you also have a bed.”  You laughed a little, and he was being a bit silly, but it dawned on you that the clones really didn’t have much to call their own. 

“Yeah, this is all mine,” you replied. “Make yourself at home.”

He put the bags down and you opened the containers and got some plates. He took off his bucket along with the rest of his armor.  It was the first time you’d seen him in just his blacks and he smiled a little sheepishly at you. You grinned.

“Okay handsome, let’s eat.”

He came over and took a plate. You explained the dishes you’d chosen. Two types of noodles, one fried with vegetables. Another plain, but it would go well with the various sauteed meats and vegetables, some spicier than others. He took a little of everything and had a hard time picking a favorite. 

“There’s so much food in the galaxy,” you said. “No need to have a favorite just from these.”

“They’re all so good though,” he replied between bites. “So much flavor. I’m even starting to feel full.”

You smiled.  He was clearly enjoying himself, taking his time, not having to get back to work right away, or deal with some issue.

“Do you want to stay for a while,” you asked with hopeful quietness.

“If that’s okay,” he replied.  You nodded and he helped you put the leftovers away before sitting on the couch and turning on a holo.  He didn’t mean to, but part way through the movie he’d fallen asleep.  You laid down on the other end of the couch, but with your legs resting on his, unsure yet of how close you wanted to get. You finished the movie while he softly snored.  You wanted to stay with him, but chose instead to adjust him with some pillows so his neck wouldn’t hurt in the morning. He was completely out. You left him to sleep there and went to your own room, but your bed felt colder than it ever had before. You managed to fall asleep, though, and were only woken up when you heard his feet patter down the hallway to the refresher in the morning. You got up and threw a robe on, hoping he wasn’t about to leave, but he was already in his armor.  You couldn’t stop your face from dropping.

“Sorry,” he said. “I have to get back, but… well, that was the nicest night I’ve had in a really long time. And that couch is so comfortable. The best place to sleep. Much more comfortable than my bed. Thank you for having me over.”

You searched for a way to make sure this wasn’t a one time thing. 

“Fox? Do you think you’d like to come over again sometime?”

“What are you doing tonight,” he replied with a grin. Before you could stop yourself you threw your arms around him in a hug and whispered “see you tonight.”

Fox started coming over at least once a week.  Walking home with him whenever you both worked, trying new foods, and relaxing after a long day soon became everything.  Sometimes he would spend the night, but he gave you space and slept on the couch.  So he wouldn’t have to wear his blacks so much, you started buying him clothes for his overnight stays.  Several hoodies, t-shirts, sweatpants, and comfortable socks all became staples. He loved fluffy socks. Although he expressed concerns that you were wasting all your money on him, you immediately shushed him. You weren’t going to hear it. He had made your life so much better, so much more comfortable.  You wanted him to be comfortable and happy too.

Things were going swimmingly, with lots of hugs and some cuddles.  He was always a gentleman.  You started sharing chores and were starting to feel bad that Fox slept on the couch so much, but he seemed to love the couch.  You didn’t want to push in any particular direction if you weren’t ready for some serious conversation. Up until now things just seemed to flow.  Everything else seemed easy.  When he washed dishes and you dried and put them away? Easy. He would lean in for a keldabe kiss in the middle of it and everything seemed right and fine and happy.

One evening you went out with some friends and they wanted to hear everything.  Although they were usually very understanding of your relationship style, up until now they seemed to think that finding someone to commit to that relationship style would be hard.

“Fox and I have something special,” you said firmly. “Are we lovers? No. Not in the way people think. But I am in love with him. He’s my person. I don’t know how else to say it.”

They all froze and stared at you. That was the first time you acknowledged how you felt out loud. Fox had managed to climb into your heart in a way no one else had. The thought was immediately followed by your own realization that you needed to talk to him about it.

The next day Fox was coming over and you took a deep breath as you walked down the halls around the senate building.  You met him at the usual place and he reached for your hand. As you walked home, you kept sighing to yourself. 

“What is it,” he asked, stopping in the middle of the walkway. “I have to know.”

Before you could stop the words they came out like an avalanche. “How do you feel about me? Because I think I love you.”

He took his bucket off and softly rested his forehead to yours. Immense relief poured from his soul. He closed his eyes briefly as if his own sense of contentment could slow down the universe for a moment.

“I love you, cyar’ika.”

“How do you feel about things, as far as the physical things between us?”

“Well I was wondering if I could kiss you, but otherwise, I’m very happy. Cuddling up to you is everything.” He pulled you into his arms and rested his cheek against you.

After a few moments you continued walking back to your place with a new sense of peace.  You talked about your boundaries and wanted to know his. Nothing was a surprise. He was happy, just as he seemed to be happy. Nothing was missing for him just as nothing was missing for you.

After you walked through the door of your home, you said, “You can kiss me. Only some places though. I don’t like the idea of tongues and all that.” You made a face that made him laugh a little, but he took your words to heart.

“My tongue will stay in my mouth, don’t worry,” he replied. “I will need detailed notes on where I can kiss you. And for the record, you can kiss me anywhere any time, but there is no pressure to do that.” He changed into his hoodie and pants along with socks with foxes on them. He sat on the couch and pulled you into his lap. You gave him a keldabe kiss and he added a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

“Will you sleep with me tonight,” you asked quietly. “Just sleep. I don’t like the idea of you being on the couch all the time and me in bed alone when there’s room.”

“Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m a nice person to share a bed with.” 

You suddenly realized that sleeping on the couch might also be a comfort thing for him. He had never done any relationship like this before. 

“What are you worried about, exactly?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t want to take over the bed, or snore loud, or I don’t know. It’s your space.”

“I’d like it to be our space,” you answered.

That night he got into bed with you.  He pulled you into his arms and held you, kissing your forehead and falling asleep almost immediately.  You laid an arm across his middle and it wasn’t long before you were asleep too. 

You woke up in a different position, but he was still cuddled against your back, one arm loosely around you.  You could feel him breathing on your shoulder.  You finally felt warm enough with him there. It was the most relaxed you’d ever felt. He started to stir and gave you a sleepy morning smile when you rolled over and back into his arms.

“This is the best bed,” he said. “Best I ever slept on. And so warm.” He somehow managed to snuggle up closer. You knew your life would never be the same.

Fox moved in, in every way but on flimsi. He still had official quarters since he was required to, but they were pretty bare and only served as a place to hide away and get a few minutes of shut eye when he had to work long into the night.  For whatever reason, it seemed Hound allowed Grizzer to use his bed to take naps when he wasn’t using it.

The routines of life started having more joy in them.  After he’d shower, he loved it when you massaged his scalp and ran your fingers through his hair.  You loved it when he brought home your favorite foods so you didn’t have to bother cooking and cleaning up.

A few years into the relationship and you wondered what life was like before Fox.  You looked at him as he ate breakfast and out of no where wanted to kiss him.  Remembering his “you can kiss me anywhere any time,” you placed a soft kiss on his temple before sitting down next to him.  His face felt a flush of heat as if he had fallen in love all over again.  He grinned and kissed your cheek.

He playfully asked, “Will you walk me to work, my love?”

“Of course,” you replied, “but only if you walk me to work too.”

“That can be arranged,” he answered. “I’m going that way anyway.”

When you got into bed that night, despite all the nights that came before it, he still said, “This is the best place to sleep.” 

“Oh? You still love this mattress. Better than the GAR issue ones, I’m told.”

“That’s not it,” he said, laying next to you with a yawn and resting his forehead on yours. “It’s the best place because it’s with you.”

Tagging: @starrrgazingbunny @dukeoftheblackstar @staycalmandhugaclone

#commander fox x reader #commander fox x araoce reader #commander fox x gn reader #commander fox fanfiction #tcw fanfiction #commander fox #reader insert #fox anon #aroace reader #asexual reader #aromantic reader #commander fox x aromantic reader #commander fox x asexual reader

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I loved Omnia Vincit Amor!!

This is just an idea, but maybe a part two or Drabble of ‘Omnia Vincit Amor’ where it’s like 7 years later and Nat and Wanda got married and had a kid that they named after reader and Natasha stumbles across a picture of her and R from before WandaNat started dating and breaks down and Wanda is scared because she can’t comfort Nat?

Summary: Natasha and Wanda try to move on now that you're gone.

Pairing: Wanda x Natasha (& platonic relationship with Y/N)

Word count: 2486

Warnings: Grief, mentions of death, a child.

A/N: I loved the idea so much, I had to write the part 2 as quickly as I could (does that include while at work? possibly.) so thank you! I changed it a little bit, so it's more of the build up until the 7 years later, but I hope it's still okay! Also I just generally love getting asks about all things, so thank you for that too!! Part 1: omnia vincit amor

—————————————————

First comes love.

Love came in many forms, at unexpected times. In the Red Room, Natasha had resigned herself to never experiencing it. When you came out to her, you had told her it was an experience you would never get to have. Both of you had been wrong.

Wanda might have been Natasha’s ‘first love’, but you had been the first to show her love, and she had loved you back just as much. The love was of a different form to what the two of you had discussed, but in Natasha’s eyes, it was just as equal.

But she’d let you die.

—————————————————

Then comes marriage.

The road to marriage was the longest step for Natasha. She had been ready, and you’d pushed her towards it for so long, but she’d delayed it with her worries. You’d been the first person to see Natasha and Wanda would work well together, despite claiming romance wasn’t your area and diverting from that with jokes. But all Natasha wanted now was to hear your stupid aromantic, a romantic joke again.

Even when she had been too nervous to ask Wanda out, you had been encouraging, even getting closer to Wanda to confirm she felt the same about Natasha. You’d been their matchmaker, their cheerleader through the relationship, and so Natasha had no second thoughts when she came to you with her plan to propose. 

You’d kept Wanda entertained and distracted when Natasha had needed time to search for rings or plan the event. You’d sat with her as she stressed, reminded her that Wanda would love it regardless, and were even going to be part of the day, setting up the scene for Natasha and Wanda to stumble into and hiding nearby to record. 

It was planned to be in the mini-break each Avenger got after each mission since, of course, all three of you would have it at the same time. But you didn’t make it back.

The ring had been hidden in your room to stop Wanda from finding it. Natasha didn’t even have it in her to enter your room afterwards, much less propose without you by her side.

Another year passed before she found it in her to ask the question. Wanda said yes, of course; she cried tears of joy, but Natasha’s tears were of another form. 

The year leading up to the wedding was eventful; it was full of planning, missions, events. Anything Natasha could take to ignore the hole in it all. She overworked herself, drove herself to the brink of exhaustion, and it was worrying Wanda. The witch mourned for you still; she cried on the big moments you were missing, but her grief had subsided enough to continue living; she worried Natasha’s hadn’t. 

“I asked Pietro to give the speech for my side of the wedding today,” Wanda spoke softly, approaching her fiancee as one would a wounded animal. Natasha lay atop their bed, fully clothed, her chest rising and falling with her breathing, but otherwise, she lay motionless. She stared at the ceiling, not even acknowledging Wanda’s presence until the woman gently set a hand on her arm. The assassin flinched.

“Natasha? Are you ready for this?”

“Mhmm, of course I am.” She defended quickly, “I proposed, didn’t I?”

“You were in a better place then. I know it’s made you think of Y/N more. You’ve been growing more absent– physically and mentally– crying more, being more reckless on missions. You’re not okay, my love.”

At that, Natasha’s eyes finally snapped to Wanda’s, tears brimming within them. “I’m trying. I really am. I want the perfect wedding to you; I want to be able to confirm our love. But they were meant to be here!” The tears flowed steadily now, sobs wracking through Natasha’s body as she curled tighter. “How is it meant to be perfect when they can’t be here?”

Wanda wanted more than anything to comfort Natasha, to solve their issue with a snap of her fingers. But she couldn’t, and so she would have to take it the long way, starting with finding the correct words to say. She sat beside her partner first, pulling her in so that Natasha would have a better position to cry on and giving Wanda access to stroke circles slowly on Natasha’s back, physically relaxing her as best she could. 

“Grief isn’t linear,” Wanda began. “You had better days, you made plans, pretty big plans-” That got a weak scoff. “-but at the end of the day, they’re still just plans. Things change, and if this is getting too hard to keep having reminders of Y/N, we can take a step back. Grief is tiring, but there’s no time limit. You rest as long as you need; then you take the step forward.”

“And if I go backwards and forwards, and backwards and forwards. What then? You’d stick with me then?”

“Well, then it’s like a dance. And I’ll always stick with you for a dance.”

It was hard to see Natasha like she was, bitter and self-deprecating. Wanda tried her best to heal the grieving side, but she knew there was another part, the part which felt guilt for choosing Wanda.

“I want to do it still. Take the step forward.” Natasha spoke, breaking the thoughtful silence that had lain for several minutes. “Step forward with you.”

Wanda looked down, letting a small smile grace her features as she assessed Natasha. “Then that’s what we can do… Speak to them though. I think it could help.”

—

Natasha put that off too. It was the eve of her own wedding before she decided to visit. 

“I know you would be so excited tonight,” she chuckled. “Probably would have convinced me to sleep in your room, my dress on display, your outfit probably hanging right next to it. I guess you’ll be glad to know Wanda is in her own room tonight; we won’t see each other again until the wedding, following the rules and all that. You always were a stickler for the rules. 

Clint is acting as best man for me, even if he could probably double up as father of the bride for both Wanda and me. Don’t tell him I said that.” Natasha let a small laugh loose. With it, she let her torso drop closer until her head rested on your gravestone. “You know I would have asked you; you would have said yes. Though I’m not convinced you’d make such a great speech from where you are right now.”

“I miss you. That doesn’t change no matter how many days pass. I miss you more than I ever thought possible, and I’m sorry I let you fall. I didn’t make the right choice… I didn’t make the wrong choice either; it took me a long time to realise that. I’m still sorry I let you fall; I wish on everything that the day had gone differently. Maybe we didn’t take the mission, or we fought better, or I knew how to catch you both. I’m sorry.”

“I think I’m just saying things now,” Natasha huffed; her tears shone in the moonlight, lighting the slight smile she hid on her face. “We picked a really peaceful spot for you, I almost don’t want to go, but I have to. I’m getting married tomorrow. You remember all the times we’d sit outside and I’d bore you with romance talk? You’d be so fed up of it by now, wouldn’t you?”

“Okay, I need to go now.” Natasha stood up, brushing the dirt off of herself as she did. But before she left, the redhead turned back, whispering at the stone, “I really didn’t think I’d survive losing you. I don’t think I would have without Wanda. So just know you chose well, finding a partner for me. I don’t know what other choices you had, but if I’d chosen differently and lost Wanda, I know you would have got me through too. Thank you for being my best friend.”

—————————————————

Then comes the baby in the baby carriage.

Only a couple of years after the marriage, and Wanda had given birth to their child. The name had been decided before Wanda was even pregnant: Y/N. It always would have been Y/N.

The couple took time off from missions to look after their kid, but it was only when they had a three-year-old, that they finally decided to retire for good. Move on to the next stage of their lives, and that included moving out of the compound. 

“Say bye-bye to the compound, sweetie,” Wanda prompted; it was safe, and it would keep the three-year-old entertained long enough for Wanda and Natasha to pack their rooms. Wanda had been packing her old room, while Natasha looked after theirs, but after letting Y/N go, she stopped in to check on her wife. 

“Oh, love…” was the instant reaction. Much of the room was in boxes, but Natasha sat hunched on the floor, a small wooden frame on her lap. She tilted her head up to Wanda with a weak smile, though tears tracked down her face.

Wanda gave a small nod towards the item Natasha held. “What’s the photo?” 

The spy tried to speak, but her voice came out no louder than a whisper, “Y/N and I. We used to spend so much time in our rooms, just watching films, and playing games. They just helped me take a break when we first joined the Avengers. I’d forgotten we took photos too.”

Wanda sat beside her, trying her best to comfort Natasha and wiping the tear’s from her wife’s face. Natasha kept turning back to the picture though, and with every glance, the tears were renewed. “How about you take a break from this?” Wanda suggested, “go see how our mini Y/N is doing? I can keep packing.”

Natasha did as her wife asked, wandering the hallways in an attempt to track her own offspring. There were no signs, until she noticed one door slightly ajar. A door which should definitely not be open; the one that led to your room.

“Y/N!” Natasha ran in, ready to drag her child out. Your room was a preservation of how it was when it died, untouched, save for the occasional dusting. Natasha couldn’t bear to change it, and she didn’t want her child messing it up either. 

The sudden panic dissipated the second Natasha entered. Instead, it was replaced by memories of times long gone; preparing for parties, gossiping, venting, crying. Your room had been a sanctuary available to Natasha at all times. Her formative years as an Avenger had been spent with you, in that room in the compound and at the near identical looking one you had at the Tower. The location of the room didn’t matter, it was special because it had you in it.

Seven years had passed since she’d been in there last. Seven years since you had been in there. But it still brought comfort.

Natasha relaxed; she took in the room as if nothing had changed, and then she turned her attention to her child. Mini Y/N was currently under your old bed, and Natasha smiled slightly as she snuck up to pull them out, laughing at the squeal that sounded. 

“Aghhh, I’ve got you my love” the former assassin teased, holding Y/N up as they squirmed to escape, filling the room with the laughter it had been devoid of for seven years.

“Want book” the child whined, though giggling at Natasha’s movements.

“Which book?”

“Y/N.” Natasha set her child down slowly, looking under the bed to where they were pointing. A small but swollen book lay underneath, the name Y/N written on the side, in what was unmistakably your handwriting. Natasha would have left it alone, had ‘Wanda’ and ‘Natasha’ not also been written beside it. 

She slid it out with care, hands trembling with such a precious object. Y/N watched quietly as Natasha opened to the first page. A selfie you had taken dominated half the page; half your face and a peace sign were front and centre, but it was clear the focus was on the background. It was her and Wanda, outside the younger woman’s room, mid-kiss.

‘I think she said yes.’ read the caption, a small note in the corner attributing the photo to the day Natasha first asked Wanda out, and the date of their first kiss. A small moment you had captured and documented, more likely for their benefit than yours.

“Y/N,” her child repeated.

“Yeah, that’s your name, baby. This is the person you were named after.” With a melancholic smile, Natasha indicated for Y/N to sit on her lap, showing them the book and flicking through the pages. It became clear that you’d dedicated a page to each of the ‘friend dates’ she and Wanda had taken you to. A picture on each one, sometimes the three of you posing, sometimes you making a face at a candid scene of her and Wanda doing something too date-like. A caption and a date accompanied each page. 

It was a physical record of friendship, one that Natasha sorely missed, but you’d also caught all the important scenes of her and Wanda’s dating, providing a timeline and history without either of them even knowing you were doing it.

Once again, tears streaked like art along Natasha’s skin. But, for the first time, she was glad for it. They came from missing you, of course, but these weren’t just from sadness, but from something sweet, reliving her happy moments with you; you had caused her happiness one more time, even seven years in the grave. 

Besides, if you had shown her that in person, you would be expecting her to cry, probably waiting to record how you made ‘the emotionless Black Widow’ cry.

If only you knew how much she’d cried for you.

She wouldn’t stop them. No, this time she let them fall freely, sifting through the pages and explaining their significance to mini Y/N. The three-year-old wouldn’t understand, but the words kept them occupied and stating it out loud reminded Natasha how real the memories were.

Wanda walked in, leaning against the doorframe as Natasha reached the last page. You’d given it a title, a pencilled-in date, but nobody would have known that you wouldn’t be there to take the photo.

“We should add a photo to this page; what do you think, Y/N?” Natasha rambled, looking up to smile at Wanda.

“We’ve got a bit more to add than that,” her wife smiled, coming in to scoop up Y/N.

Natasha nodded. She had her two loves, and a gift from her third. They still got her happy ending; she only wished you could be there to join it.

#wandanat #aroace reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff & reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff & reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wandanat & reader

[floffytofu]

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a star wars fanfiction

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....

After Anakin had Padawan himself, Obi-Wan thought of having another Padawan. He never thought about meeting you, a young Jedi who bore a striking resemblance to his own troubled past.

He can't ignore the situation that happened to him before and now happened to you, and he can't ignore the force calling him to take you as his own.

This is a story about family, love, betrayal and tragedy.

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#star wars #codywan #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #clone wars #padawan reader #child reader #platonic #aroace reader #anidala #ahsoka #212th attack battalion #501st battalion #obi-wan x reader platonic #count dooku x reader platonic #anakin skywalker x reader platonic

[spidey-bie]

Me an aroace who doesn't want a defined relationship 🤝🏾 Hobie an anarchist who hates labels.

#what are you two? an experience #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #my bae [🎸] #jay and the spiders #hobie brown x black!reader #aroace reader #hobie brown x black reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie x black!reader #hobie x reader #hobie x black reader #black reader