Summary/content: Qifrey brought home another apprentice, and while Olruggio is a bit crossed, he keeps the door open for you to come inside. You, Qifrey's new student, find your new family and learn more about magic. But this is just a snippet of what that life looks like. No pronouns used for reader. No use of y/n or any other variation. Reader is around the same age as the other Qiflings (10-12). Reader is described as anxious in the beginning, but opens up more later!
Very much prompted by external forces, but not actually requested. @yumee-topia , I hope you like it :) This is just a quick drabble I did. Not super proud of it, but I'm also not used to writing the reader as a kid, so absolutely any constructive criticism is welcomed!
And this is being posted later than originally anticipated. I had plans that I honestly forgot about on the 2nd, lmao, and midway through writing the second part I started scrolling through tags on here.
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How did you get here?
~
“Qifrey…” Olruggio speaks. Quiet, exhausted, and harsh. He looks to the man in front of him, expecting some kind of genuine answer to come out of him. A defence for his case.
All Olruggio gets in response is a gentle smile, and a slight tilt of Qifrey’s head as he stays looking at the man in front of him.
Olruggio's eyes drift from Qifrey’s own down to where you latch on to him. You hid yourself under Qifrey’s cloak and your hands grip onto his waist from behind. You were an anxious one.
You make eye contact with Olruggio, shrinking back further into Qifrey for a moment.
“Hello, mister,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on Olruggio, but they strayed from and avoided looking at his face again. Never looking above his chest.
Olruggio sighs. “Just call me Olruggio,” his voice still came out tired, but less annoyed.
Annoyed, not at you, but at a fifth apprentice that Qifrey has brought back with him to the atelier. Perhaps this is just something he has to get used to; Qifrey bringing to the atelier apprentices like a wife or child bringing home a stray cat. There’s more contrast than compare.
Olruggio’s eyes flicker between you and Qifrey for only a moment longer before stepping aside, letting you two cross the threshold past him.
Qifrey thanks his friend, and begins to guide you to your temporary room. It was only a guest room, but it was getting late. Surely he would figure out a better arrangement for your sleeping and studying quarters come morning.
When Qifrey steps back into the heart of the atelier, Olruggio has his back against the empty fireplace, clearly waiting for his return.
“Another apprentice, Qifrey? Why?”
Qifrey looks to Olruggio as he asks his question. He smiles before saying, “I really do believe there is always room for another,” he walks closer, sitting in front of Olruggio, “and perhaps I wished to survey their wonder and expand it in the right places.”
~
One month under his wing-
~
“Master Qifrey,” you speak, peeking around the arch that forms between the kitchen and dining room.
Once you spot him over the stove, you stand to your full height, revealing the rest of your body from behind the wall.
Qifrey turns to face you, “Yes, what is it?” His brow arches lightly as you look up to him. He sets the kettle down, already having poured the hot water in his cup to make himself tea. “Do you need help with anything?” His voice remains gentle as always.
He always seemed a bit brotherly, or even fatherly, despite the basic relation of master and apprentice.
“Actually, I've been having a bit of trouble with my line work lately,” you grumble, gripping the white fabric that rests just above your stomach. You look down at the points of your shoes, unable to find the emotion you feel in yourself about your inability to draw a proper spell.
You then look back up to Qifrey. “I have asked for advice or help from the others, but none of it really seems to work for me. I even tried to ask help from Mister Olruggio, but—um,” your shoulders stiffen up a bit at the memory of Olruggio glaring at you as if he were a dead man revived before you could even utter out a single letter of a word to him.
Qifrey hums, laughing a bit at the last bit you speak, “I see. He can get a bit carried away in his work, leading him to be—well, tired,” he says the last word as if it alone would explain his friend’s habit.
Focusing back on the subject, he calls out your name, asking to see your hands as he holds out his own.
When you place your dominant hand into one his own, palm facing up, he crouches down to your level. Soon he starts poking at the palmer of your hand, then moves to feel and lightly rub your fingers.
After just a short moment, Qifrey hums before standing back up and asking, “Do you think it may have something to do with your pen?”
You look at him, and back to your hand. “I haven’t really thought about that being why.” You thought for a moment, “Though, Coco did ask a similar question. She also said she has a bit of trouble with her lines, too,” you bring your other hand to join the other, pushing your thumb into the middle of the other’s palm.
Qifrey only pats your head, putting your main focus back on to him, before he suggests, “Why don’t you sit on it for a little while longer?”
“Okay,” you nod.
“And,” Qifrey bends down, putting his other hand on his knee, “if it really is because of your pen, we can pay a visit to Kalhn and get you a new one. Easy fix,” he smiles down at you, closing his eyes.
You nod again, the action a bit more pronounced. You mirror his smile too, “Okay,” you say again.
“Now be on your way,” Qifrey walks back to the counter he left his tea cup on before looking back at you, over his shoulder. “It’s time you continue studying your spells,” he dismisses you from the kitchen. “Remember to know your limit,” Qifrey adds as you step back out into the dining area.
“Right, of course,” you fully turn away from him, making your way back to your workspace.
~
Turns out you had a minor case of a writer’s cramp from overworking yourself just a little too much. That, of course, got you a bit of a scolding from Master Qifrey when you two figured it out from your hand freezing up when he asked you to demonstrate a basic spell.
You two ended up paying a visit to Kalhn for a new pen anyway, though this one would be for more temporary and more limited use. Mr. Nolnoa did not have any pens made specifically for a writer’s cramp or anything “special” like that, but he was able to round out the tip of one just a bit for this case.
Master Qifrey had taken the newly customized pen out of your reach and put into his own bag when Mr. Nolnoa finally came back out with it in hand.
When you finally got the pen into your own hands, you tested it out immediately on the first thing of blank parchment you found back at the atelier. It definitely did glide across the paper easier than your former pen, and because of that, it required less pressure from your wrist. You still found that you preferred your original pen anyway, but you were still thankful for the kind of gift.
Qifrey does not have any need to worry further about you using your original pen, or even practicing too much, when you are getting over your cramp. He already had a conversation with the other apprentices about your small period of required recovery. Estimated by himself.
Richeh and Tetia, whom you share a workspace with, will remind you… Quite a bit. They worry about you, too, just as much as your master. Nobody in the atelier wants it to be a bigger case than what it already was, and not knowing your habits very well— well, they just wanted to be sure you were taking care of yourself as well.
Coco and Agott in this same case both stress that you shouldn’t overwork yourself for something that naturally takes time to get better at.
Qifrey agrees with it all, even mentioning at dinner, “It’s a good thing it was only a minor case.”
That you agreed with.
You agreed with all of them, and told them to not stress about your own predicament.
Qifrey very often sees that passion you share about magic with Coco’s own. He even has the fondest smile when he sees you two talking amongst yourselves about the topic.
Everything Will Be Fine (Platonic Yandere Darth Vader with Starkiller's Twin Sister Reader)
A/N: This is a small work I thought of, but didn't want to put on my AO3 account, so I thought of putting it here. I rarely see platonic yandere Vader content, so I made some, even if it's short.
Vader placed your body into a becta tank that was in his Fortress on Mustarfar. You weren't in good condition, far from it, but he would make sure you got well.
After he made sure your vitals were stable and fixed himself up from the fight with your brother, Vader would make sure Palpatine thought you were dead. It was essential that the Emperor thought you were and continued to think so. If he suspected you were alive, he would have you killed. The Rule of Two allowed only two Siths, and not only that but you might also be viewed as a weakness of Vader’s. Vader made sure you were in this condition and if he wanted you dead you would’ve been, and Palpatine would know this as well.
There were a few times Vader thought of killing you and one time he almost did. When he found you and your brother as children, he thought of only taking Starkiller and doing away with you, but there was a chance you were stronger within the force, so you were taken as well. When it was shown Starkiller was the stronger one Vader planned on killing you, but when he was about to you gave him a fearful look as if you knew something bad was going to happen. It normally wouldn’t sway him, but the look you gave resembled the one Padmé gave on Mustafar, and when you whispered a frightened ‘master’, Vader couldn’t continue with his plan, seeing Padmé in you.
As you grew older you showed traits of Padmé and him when he was Anakin. Vader wished you just had traits of Padmé, but that wasn't his luck. You could be reckless and at times rebellious. However, Vader quickly learned that threatening your brother got you back in line. You had a strong relationship with Starkiller and he returned that bond. The two of you were a fierce duo when you went on missions together, but it could also hurt the goal of the mission if one of you got into a life-threatening position. Neither of you wanted to lose the other so the mission was practically on hold if either of you were in such a situation.
This was why it was critical to keep you sedated until Vader was repaired and could deal with you better. Once you knew your brother was dead it would undoubtedly cause you to rebel and seek revenge against Vader and the Emperor as soon as you could. If you got too wild the Emperor would discover you and would want to kill you himself to make sure you were dead. Vader couldn't have you dead, no matter how much he would try to deny it.
He would never admit this to anyone, but you had become like a daughter to him. When Vader began seeing you as his child he didn't know, maybe it was when he saw traits of Padmé and himself in you, maybe it was the time he was about to kill you, or the time you got seriously injured. It really didn’t matter when, all that mattered now was that he does, and he refused to lose another child.
Vader wouldn’t lose you, not to death, not to the newly formed Rebellion, not to anything. You would stay by his side whether you liked it or not, and if anything threatened to take you, Vader would destroy it. He would tear the galaxy apart if he had to. Palpatine was no exception to this either, Vader would find a way to kill Palpatine in order to protect you and keep you by him.
You were his daughter, which meant it was Vader’s duty to protect you. He failed to protect his biological child, but he would right that wrong by not failing you.
“You will be fine youngling.” Vader said, more to himself than to you, though he hoped you heard him so you would know things were fine. That it didn’t matter if your twin was dead, because you had him, and even if he was going to punish you for betraying him in order to join Starkiller in trying to free the Rebel leaders and kill him and the Emperor, everything would be fine in the end.
Everything would be fine, Vader would make sure everything would be fine, no matter what he had to do to achieve it.
Can I ask for Asra from The Arcana with male reader please? maybe an established relationship where they've been together for a long time? Not much of a plot but mostly just smut/fluff where Reader comes back wounded and goes to clean himself off, and when he comes out into the main bedroom, they end up having sex and it's a bit frantic because they missed each other? Bottom reader if that's okay with you. Thank you
missed you
asra alnazar x m!reader
Synopsis: Asra heals you with his magic after you return home littered in injuries — albeit in a different way.
a/n -> i love him so much<333 just got done playing his route again and now i am overcome with the sensation of emptiness once more. but anyways, ty for requesting him! it gets a little tiring only writing for genshin, no matter how much i love the requests and the characters. i hope this is okay!
You winced as a sharp sting permeated through your skin, shifting uncomfortably when the fabric of your shirt rubbed against your wound. You sighed in relief when you realized that the sign at the front of the magic shop read "Open" - Asra was home.
"I'll be out in a moment!" You were met with a comforting voice when you opened the door, a cheerful jingle echoing through the building.
"Oh, [Name], you're back!" Asra smiled warmly, setting his cup of tea on the front counter. You watched as his eyes roamed your body for a moment before they widened at the sight of your blood staining your clothes.
"What happened to you?" he questioned, rushing to your side. He placed a hand on your lower back to guide you to your shared bedroom after he flipped the sign and locked the door.
"Oh, nothing much..." you trailed off. It was a little embarrassing, really.
"You're bleeding. That doesn't look like 'Nothing much.'" He raised a brow and made you sit on the bed.
"...Would you believe me if I said that a... plant attacked me?"
He blinked incredulously, halting in place. It took him a few moments to process what you just said, trying futilely to figure out how in the world that could've occurred.
"What," he managed to utter, leaning back to stare at you.
"I tripped and spilled a lot of the stuff in my bag. It got over a plant and... here I am," you bashfully explained, incapable of maintaining eye contact any longer.
"What did you have in the bag?"
"Herbs, medicinal powders, items of the like. Now I know not to mix them, I guess."
Asra sighed and shook his head in fond exasperation, but an uneasy expression still managed to cross his face. "It's good that you're okay, but you need to be more careful next time. I was already on edge when I found out that Nadia didn't know where you were."
"Right. Sorry." You furrowed your eyebrows at his apprehension, guilt settling in your chest.
"Well, it doesn't help to dwell in the past." He leaned closer to you. Pressing a hand against your torso, he guided you down so that you lay on your back. "I'd better heal you."
You nodded and relaxed against the plush and comforting covers, shivering at his touch. Your eyes widened in surprise when he did not trace your injury with his fingers like he normally would, but instead placed his lips over the top of your cut. He peered up at you through his eyelashes and smiled innocently.
With gentle glints of light, he mended the skin with his soothing kisses, beginning from your chest. He softly caressed your hips as he moved lower and lower. You swallowed hard and found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him.
You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, your face feeling incredibly hot. You tensed when he lingered dangerously close to the waistband of your pants but had to hold back a noise when he abruptly rose from his position.
"You look awfully flustered." His eyes were alight with mischief, body towering over yours. "I wonder what's gotten you so worked up?"
"Don't tease..." You looked away bashfully, feebly squirming under his gaze. He noticed the slightest opening of your legs and couldn't help the smile that appeared. He shifted himself back between your thighs, running his hand over your bare stomach.
He glanced up at you. "Are you sure? You just returned. Do you want to rest first?"
"No, I'm okay. K-keep going," you replied. He nodded, tucked his fingers under the band of your pants, and gently tugged them down alongside your underwear. You sucked in a sharp breath at the contrast between your heated skin and the cooler air of the bedroom, though Asra's body heat very quickly warmed you up again.
He sighed over your semi-hard cock, mouth slightly ajar, and averted his focus onto your thighs instead. He kissed random spots, some closer to where you wanted him and others farther away.
You lightly pulled on his hair to gain his attention and shot him a tense look, to which he chuckled out an apology.
"Sorry. I just missed you." He hovered over your dick once more before finally taking it in his mouth with the aid of his hand. The other one reached for yours, interlocking your fingers as he pushed himself until you could feel the beginning of his throat. He didn't prefer going all the way — not that you minded.
He used the saliva that escaped through the corners of his lips to help him jerk off what he didn't get. You moaned softly, tightening your grip around his hand, digging your free one into the bedsheets. You weren't sure if it was because you were gone for so long, but how he handled you with such practiced ease had you resisting the impulse to thrust your hips upwards.
He hummed contentedly, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled affectionately, unable to tear his gaze away from your face. He was rendered utterly entranced for a few moments, captivated with your scent, your taste, your voice. With you.
He worked to please, watching every twitch of your body, listening to every sound that passed your lips. He couldn't help but grind against the mattress: impatience and desire steadily rising, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could subdue them.
With a great deal of reluctance, he pulled himself away from you, already missing the weight of your weeping cock on his tongue. You reopened your eyes — when had you closed them? — and observed him with bated breath. He reached towards the cluttered nightstand and retrieved a bottle of lube, pouring some of the contents on his fingers.
His dick strained against the cloth of his pants, aching to be touched. But he ignored his own needs for the moment, directing his focus solely on you. He inserted one finger inside you before adding a second one, deciding on taking his time to prepare you. He could feel you shudder when he began to move them in a scissoring motion, curling them every so often to bring forth moans.
He leaned down to shower your neck in kisses, heat traveling up and down his spine in powerful surges.
"I'm ready," you murmur breathlessly.
"I just started." Asra raised an eyebrow. You weren't typically this urgent, this needy, but he understands. He's barely stopping himself from acting the same.
"I-It's fine," you stammered, widening your legs in want. "Please..."
He swallowed hard. He longed to finally bury himself inside you, but the concern of hurting you fought valiantly within his mind. His hand slowed in contemplation as he stared into your eyes. They were wide, pupils blown and filled with lust.
"Oh, how could I ever say no to you?" He removed his fingers with a gentle smile before it morphed into something akin to worry. "But please tell me if it hurts, okay?"
You nodded and offered him a meek grin of your own. "I will."
He turned to grab the bottle of lube once more and poured an ample amount (a tad more than usual) on his cock that he freed from his pants a few moments prior. He slightly winced before he pressed the tip against your hole and began to push himself inside.
He groaned, stilling when his pelvis met your ass. The burn was a bit more prominent compared to the previous times you'd done this, but it wasn't something you couldn't tolerate. In fact, you would say that it felt good.
You wordlessly signaled him with a bob of your head to get him to move, to which he sighed pleasurably in return. He trailed his hands up from your hips to your waist, caressing the flesh as he began leisurely thrusting, his pace increasing with every passing moment.
Your breaths were shallow as you gazed at him with loving eyes, enamored with the sight before you. You couldn't resist the urge to raise your arms toward him, wanting to feel his body close to yours - despite knowing he's already as close as he can be. But he couldn't disregard how you were so beautifully splayed out in front of him and entertained your wish by curling his arms around your upper body as you wrapped your own over his back.
There was nothing to conceal each other's noises, creating a melody only the two of you could hear. He could feel you tighten when he whispered breathless praises in your ear, nothing but honesty spilling from his lips.
You turned your head to kiss the side of his neck, offering wordless replies. You were caught up in hazy bliss, arching your back as the heat within your abdomen strengthened each second. Your moans grew louder as you urged him to move a bit faster, desperate to reach your climax.
The bed creaked alongside the headboard that softly struck the wall, mixing in with the harmony that was your moans and his labored breaths, but neither of you paid it any heed.
"I love you. I love you..." he chanted, seemingly lost in the mantra as he neared his orgasm.
You tensed when the spark of ecstasy finally washed over you in surges, rolling over your skin pleasantly. Your cock spurted cum over your bare stomach, tended to by one of your hands. You could feel his breath hitch beside your ear, and instinctively pulled him closer with your legs just as he came.
You shuddered, relaxing as he buried his face in the junction between your neck and shoulder. You combed your fingers through his curly white hair, patiently waiting for him to settle, basking in the afterglow.
It wasn't until a minute or so when he finally decided to pull away and place most of his weight on his knees to look at you. The two of you remained silent for a few moments longer until he spoke, "We should take a bath."
You nodded with a chuckle. "Also, where's Faust? I haven't seen her in a while."
"Here..." Faust's faint voice was even quieter than before, and both of your heads swerved towards the windowsill, where the curtains rustled. You were mortified to see a familiar purple snout poke out from underneath.
"How did you not...?!" you exclaimed at Asra. Your face felt so hot it felt like you could cook an egg on it.
"I don't know!" He looked away in shame. "I was caught in the moment?"
He didn't seem sure of himself, and you groaned with your hands over your eyes.
"With you missing from the Palace, coming home injured," he tried to explain, "and with me missing you after just coming home from a recent journey, I completely forgot she was sleeping on the window."
Your expression softened. "I'm sorry."
He smiled. "It's okay. Now, let's hurry and clean up."
could i request a yandere platonic darth vader with an apprentice reader that has really bad anxiety?
(i love your writing so much and you're incredibly talented!!!)
Midnight Suns
Dark-ish PLATONIC Darth Vader (Anakin Skywalker) x Apprentice Reader
Minors, do not interact
Author’s Note: This did deviate from the og mission but I really liked writing for Vader again <3 Thank you!!!
Type: New!
Description: A rebel breach at your outpost draws out garish memories you had long thought to be secluded in the past.
Word Count: 1,555
Warnings: Its really only dark-ish if you squint (in terms of the dynamic), moderate depictions and descriptions of injuries and violence, wounds, burn wounds, mentions of death
By clicking or tapping on “Keep Reading”, you consent to viewing/consuming this media. Minors do not interact. The cultivation of one’s internet experience is up to the individual, and any other personal preferences do not dictate the creations of others nor myself. The recreation, reformatting, re-posting or distribution of this content on other platforms is not welcome and I ask that any and all parties would keep from doing so, thank you.
Dried and scratchy, the tissue of your throat clenched as you forced yourself to take controlled breaths at an even pace. Those heaving gasps refused to become lax, keeping your pulse frantic. Thoroughly soaked in a cold coating of sweat, you found yourself laid out on the floor of the hangar, listening to the wheezing sound of your own breath and the predictable rhythm of trooper boot falls.
And though they were all duty bound to ensure your life alway came before their own, none of them came within arm’s reach. Each one of the troopers marched past you, securing the premises of the Imperial base, and as they tended to their duty, you could sense the consuming presence of your master approaching with great urgency.
Though awash with fear, you pushed yourself upright and to your feet in an attempt to allay some of your master’s concern.
“Master, I did everything I could.” You started, your voice sounding painfully hoarse. “I meant to send a communication as soon as possible, I really did…”
Lord Vader, in the presence of all his men and women strode over to his young apprentice with a great sense of urgency, that twinge of vulnerability buried under a cultivated portrayal of animosity.
“You’re burned.”
In veined patches all along the body of his beloved apprentice, it was viscerally apparent the injuries had been rapid and vicious in razing their soft flesh.
His gaze drifted to the floor of the outpost hangar where the bodies of at least a dozen rebels laid out, their limbs petrified and skin scorched in a similar fashion. Among the fallen, laid a singular jedi, marked by the lightsaber clutched rigidly in her grasp.
“And did they hurt you?”
You shook your head, sparing him half a glance before looking to the side. Had you been anyone else, Lord Vader would have found such a quiet and dismissive disposition incredibly rude, though in the few years of your apprenticeship, he had learned through regrettable trial and error that any supposed aversion to the polite merely had another purpose.
“No, my lord Vader. What happened was my own fault.” Your shoulders visibly edged upwards as your eyes flickered from side to side. “I should have sensed the intruders and I should have been more focused with my use of the Force. Please, my lord Vader, forgive me. I should have noticed the breach in the outpost sooner…”
Gathering his thoughts and quelling the torrent of initial speculation in his own mind, Vader turned on the heel of his boot, walking in the direction of his personal transport shuttle. Dutifully, you followed behind him, the sound of your boots soft against the durasteel floor.
With the shutter of the door sliding firmly into place, Vader beckoned you forward and without question, you stood within arm’s reach. Your pain was vigorous, piercing the previous steady nature of your shared bond. Though you had just started to learn the intricacies of taming such pain, masking it with an impassive guise that remained rooted in detachment, there was no degree of separation that could have separated Lord Vader from your suffering.
“Quiet your mind to the degree that you are able in this moment, young one. I shall take care of the rest.”
You had always struggled with degrees of vulnerability. It was undoubtedly being deprived of that vital sense of sight, and subjecting yourself to the will of another that set you on edge.
Patience ruling his better nature, Vader placed both hands on either side of your head.
It was yet another moment where he was regrettably consumed by the incisive memory of his old master. Utilizing that old man’s method of soothing a damaged mind left the Sith lord in a slight state of bitterness. But that bitterness could be set aside, it was trivial when laid in comparison to your anguish.
“Keep still, young one.” He reminded you firmly as your body started to shift somewhat. “It is only you and I, and once we calm that mind of yours, I can help tend to your wounds.”
Letting his own presence within the Force consume you so wholly, he could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate, the streamlined panic that left you in utter shambles became undone for the time being. Left in a state of heavily dazed tranquility, Vader placed his hands on the slope of your shoulders, guiding you to one of the shuttle passenger seats.
His own tact for healing was far from abysmal, but it was, by no means exceptional.
“I really am sorry, my Lord Vader. It was never my intention to bring you disgrace by losing control and failing your expectations for me here. I assure you I will redouble my training efforts.”
Setting your statement aside, Vader kept his own gaze fixated on your burn wounds as the singed flesh knit itself back together with the aid of the Force.
“The pattern of these wounds are exceptionally curious, young one. And I am most curious as to how these were inflicted. Tell me truly, was it the work of that Jedi you felled?”
That sway of induced calm left you less coiled with tension, easing the truth right out of your mouth.
“No, my lord. It was my own doing. Inadvertently.” You added quickly.
Nodding once, he considered your answer. “A loss of control over your guided lightning, I presume?”
“Yes, my lord. When the Jedi and her tactical team entered, I recognized her immediately. She was once a creche master back before the establishment of the Empire. I suppose she survived that night and joined the ranks of the rebels…But she recognized me as well…I could see it in her expression and she kept saying I could go with them ,I could escape and I would be safe, and I wouldn’t have to be so scared anymore–”
His gloved hand tightened around your arm with restrained ire. “You would do well to silence yourself when it comes to such blasphemous lies, my young apprentice. Do you not remember how I found you?”
“No, my master. I remember perfectly.”
When two beats of silence followed, he endeavored to remind you further. “What do you suppose would have become of such a small initiate, left alone with intent by the Jedi who should have been there to protect them? Had I not been there with mercy, undoubtedly your life would have ended only a few years after it nearly began.”
With your wounds now cleanly healed in thanks to his benefaction, Vader’s hands grasped your own. He could recall his last few memories of the Jedi Temple with broiling disdain, and yet there was you. That little tear-stained thing left alone in the creche, shaking sobs that made your whole body tremble as he entered that room. And even in all his vehement glory, you had run up to him, with the unbridled belief that he was there to deliver you from the chaos born of his own revolution.
It had struck him as so profoundly strange, there was little else he could do aside from plucking you off of the floor of the creche and into his arms
There would have been no benefit to see you slain, body cast along with the others. It would have been an egregious waste of a Force sensitive lifeform and then there was that poignant ache in his chest when he felt you relax against him. Though he had been sure you could feel at least on a very basic level, the truth of his new nature, you were still able to find comfort in his tumultuous presence.
“ I know, master.” Your voice remained quiet as you searched for the proper words. “I meant no offense. Trust me, my lord Vader, I remember all too well those Jedi left me to die in that temple. But that, in a way, was what led me to having such injuries. When that Jedi tried to get me to leave with her, all those memories consumed my mind and I could feel the Force flowing through me so…violently.”
“And so that offers an explanation as to your wounds and the fallen Jedi.” Vader mused, squeezing your hands slightly. “But tell me this, my young one, what do you believe made you lose that sense of control?”
Your expression stiffened, the muscles of your jaw twitching just enough for him to notice.
“That feeling of hate. Remembering the feeling of being left by those who I thought would have protected me.”
“Ah. So you see, young one, it is that hate we must seize. It is untamed now, usual for one your age, but we must take it and reconstruct that feeling for your own betterment and that of what is precious to you. And though that may appear to be a monumental task for someone so young, I am more than capable of guiding you. It is your duty to heed all that I say and all that I ask of you.”
“My lord, there isn’t a need really for you to remind me of that.”
When you offered half a smile, under the layers of his mask, Vader returned one in kind. “I’ve already sworn my devotion and fealty to you.”
Tags: Asra x Apprentice!Reader, Oneshot, Fluff, Gn!Reader, Caught Staring
Warnings: Like One Mildly Suggestive Thought
Asra is your mentor who you have had a crush on for a long time. If you can help it, you always steal glances at him. Little did you know, he’s aware of your little habit.
* ˚ ✦ 1021 Words • Read below the cut
╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [22/04/23] ❞
You tidied up the shop as usual, making your way around the modest room you were stationed in, wiping down all the dusty surfaces. After you finished cleaning the main area, you passed through a door to the backroom, where Asra was. You tried not to interrupt him while he was carrying out a tarot reading, so you made your rounds with as little disturbance as possible.
However, you became distinctly cognizant of Asra's presence when, while attempting to wash down a shelf, you recognized the telltale signs of a blush creeping up on the apples of your cheeks. As embarrassing as it was, you've grown an enormous crush on your mentor in recent months.
Asra didn't turn around once when deciphering the reading, which gave you the perfect opportunity to steal glances at him while scrubbing. You thought he was cute, with his fluffy, silvery locks that you desperately wanted to card your fingers through, the way his face scrunched up in concentration, or his otherworldly side profile.
You hadn't paid any attention to the wiping motions of your hands as you absentmindedly pushed a glass jar of herbs off the shelf while admiring him. It collided with the wood floor, shattering the jar. As Asra turned around to locate the source of the crash, you jumped on the spot and grimaced. His gaze flitted from the glass shards to you, an eyebrow arched with amusement.
You politely apologized and encouraged him to continue, then swept up the mess and rushed out of the backroom, humiliated.
...
The bell at the door chimed, heralding the arrival of a customer. You waited for them to finish their browsing, before expertly wrapping up the protective oil they had purchased, and typed numbers into the calculator to determine how much change to give the stranger.
As you were carrying this out, Asra walked over to retrieve something from behind the counter, kneeling down to peer over the items that were on display. Your cheeks heated into an intense burn again the instant he neared you and the customer. You fumbled with their change, and cursed yourself for not being able to pull yourself together in Asra's presence.
Fortunately, he hadn't paid attention to you, so you crouched down to retrieve the fallen money and observed his kneeling form for a brief period; Asra was sorting through various crystals. For just a moment, you pictured what it would be like if he knelt before you like that, those seeking hands worshipping your thighs instead.
The deluge of improper thoughts you envisioned caused you to punch numbers into the calculator a little harder than before, the redness on your cheeks becoming increasingly apparent. You escorted the poor customer away, and Asra gazed upon you, puzzled as to why you were being so clumsy.
...
Asra was sweeping up the main entryway after a long day of work, whistling to himself. As usual, you were situated behind the counter, with an excellent front-row view of Asra. You discreetly observed him as he worked, your gaze veering up the sleeves rolled above his forearms to the open chested shirt he wore.
He'd discarded his scarf to accommodate the weather, and you silently thanked whatever higher power existed for the heat; you were gifted with Asra’s exposed chest. He stopped whistling for a brief moment as he felt your eyes burn into his back; you hurriedly turned your head to the side to avoid meeting his gaze, praying he hadn't spotted you staring at him.
Little did you know, he's become increasingly aware of how frequently you scrutinize him, and he coughed to himself as his own cheeks began to warm at the thought.
...
It's the same routine every time. You're minding your job in the shop when Asra wanders in, and you turn into a bumbling fool. This routine invariably concludes with you sneaking looks at him while you pick up the pieces of your mess. You were arranging grimoires on the shelf as usual, when Asra wandered by to replenish the potions.
As you tried to steal a glimpse at him alongside you, your palm paused in place of the book spine, just barely lingering above the old fabric. Just when you believed you had gone undetected, Asra unexpectedly caught your gaze. You reverted subsequently into a flushed mess as you grasped what had just transpired.
You apologized and resumed your book arranging, hoping he wasn't offended by your behavior. Asra grumbled dissatisfiedly, trapping his palm over where yours lay on the antique book. Asra pressed you against the bookcase, essentially cornering you, and you felt your legs turn to jelly. You had the impression that he was furious with you and that this would be the moment when he finally cracked.
Asra breathed a single huff out of his nose. “I know about your habit.”
Your face fell and you stared at him in dread the instant those words left his lips. Asra's fingertips skittered beneath your chin, the contact shooting sparks over your skin and warming you from the inside.
He tipped your head up. “Look at me.”
And you did.
Asra's demeanor swiftly transformed to one of mirth, and he searched into your eyes for any sign of discomfort. “If you wanted to stare at me all day so bad, all you had to do was ask.”
Your jaw went slack. “I- No! I wasn’t staring- You...” Try and deny it as you might, you knew that was a lie, and the words died in your throat.
Asra's hand, which was resting on the spine of the grimoire, snaked around your waist. He pushed you up against the bookshelf in an effortless and relaxed manner, aligning his lips with yours. After kissing you deeply for a brief period of time, Asra withdrew his supple lips away from yours, gently chuckling, and stepped back towards his potions like that was nothing.
You remained there aghast, your reaction to what he meant by habit delayed. Realization struck you. “Oh my god, you knew I’ve been watching you?!”
Can I have some headcanons about the Dork Squad having a kid apprentice that is bad at being... bad? Even if they try, the apprentice is lame at being vicious and intimidating, but too cute to be fired. It's silly, but some silliness works to give some smiles. UwU
Have you seen that comic of "Batman Beyond's" Ghoul applying to be TNBA!Scarecrow's side-kick? Those are the vibes I'm getting from this ask, and I love it, because it's adorable.
Jonathan Crane:
Listen, he gets enough shit from the other Rogues about "wearing a Halloween costume," he doesn't need you showing up to work in an Actual Halloween Costume! (Which you have done, multiple times.) At least try to look intimidating!
You really need to work on your...tactics, as well. Shouting "Boo!" only goes so far. And your "Scary Faces" look more like you have a stomachache. Needless to say, you need serious improvement, if you have any chance of being his sidekick.
He's not really sure why he keeps you around. You're about as scary as a newborn kitten, but you're clever, and more importantly, you're passionate. And it's that passion that keeps him holding out, that maybe there's hope for you yet.
Edward Nygma:
He teaches you everything he knows! Or, at least, he tries. It's like it all goes in one ear and out the other. He can see that you're trying, but...he has no idea what he's doing wrong! Or maybe this whole "sidekick" thing just isn't cut out for you.
Still, even when he tries to let you down gently, you refuse to quit. And he admires your gumption. You're smart, you're creative, and you obviously care about him--but you're just not good at being "bad." And that's the big hang-up. How does the Bat do it?!
He knows that being in the lime-light probably isn't in your future, so he prefers to let you work in the background. Kind of his "little helper in the shadows." That way you can make your mark, without accidentally screwing up his reputation!
Jervis Tetch:
You are so very adorable, but also so very...kind. And while that is a good thing, it's also a bad thing--for his "line of work." You're not supposed to offer his captives tea and biscuits! He often has to shoo you out of the room so he can "work" properly.
There are times when he just wants to throttle you, honestly. But he never would, you don't deserve that. You're obviously trying your best and you are a good helper! You just...need a little nudge in the right direction.
He's even considered carding you as a means of "behavioral training." Maybe then you'd be able to actually act the part. But he couldn't do that to you. Even if he really, really wanted to. You'll just have to keep trying, the old-fashioned way.
Yandere Morgana with a apprentice that got reincarnated or is some how still alive. I am very gay the lady.
You... you survived the fall of Camelot? Morgana can't believe it. You're still alive? Your soul she feels it and looking at you she smiles. For the first time in centuries she smiles.
It's you. Maybe your wearing different clothes and you talk strangely but it's you. Your hair. Your face. Your smile...? Your not smiling. You look scared. Confused she reaches out to you but you flinch making the Eldritch Queen pause.
You begin to back up looking to your "friends" for help. Frowning she waves a hand creating a wall of fire they couldn't possibly get through. She needs your attention on her not them. Eyes wide in panic she watches you turn away from her and run to the flames shouting for them but the roar of the fire is too loud for your voice to be heard.
She huffs. She's all you need anyways.
Landing behind you she's confused. You still have your magic. Same soul. You even look the same. Have you truly forgotten her?
Reaching out for you, you press yourself into her flames and scream as her magic burns you. Panicked Morgana reaches for you grabbing you and holding you tight to her armor.
"(Y/N)..." She mumbles soothing. Her clawed hands brushing through your hair as she uses her other hand to heal you. Looking into your eyes she pauses. "(Y/N) it's me." She pleads for you to remember.
But the centuries don't seem to be on her side as you push her away. Confused. You must be confused. Merlins filled your head with lies. His champions filled you with doubts. You don't remember her all because of him. Shaking in anger she observes your scared face. You continue to fight her but it seems you forgot how to weild magic. Well she could fix that in due time.
Smiling she hums hand stroking your cheek.
"Oh hush love." She mumbles as you whimper. Pulling you close as you continue to struggle she whispers soothing spells into your ear until you lay limp in her arms.
Perhaps you don't remember her or your magic but she can fix that.
