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sunnymoonxx · 3 months

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❝self destructive tendencies❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

● this is a 3rd pov, if you want to read 2nd pov, here●

summary: A week has passed since the battle on Khofar and the startling reveal of her former friend. Qimir, the man behind the mask and the murderer of her comrades took her to a remote island, far away from the Republic's surveillance, after she sustained severe injuries. She's been keeping her distance from him, trying to ignore her hidden feelings. Yet, when his thoughts merge with hers, the vow she made to herself becomes almost impossible to keep.

warnings: english is not my first language, sexual tension, lots of sexual tension, corruption, sexual themes/dreams, E Y E C O N T A C T, qimir, mentions of blood and injuries

author's note: I could not be a jedi I'd turn into aquaman if he asked me to join him

now playing, love in the sky by the weeknd

*:..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡ ︎

The moon hung low over the horizon, casting an eerie glow on the waves that lapped against the shores of the ghostly island. Qimir’s silhouette stood out against the backdrop of the night sky, his presence a constant reminder of the blood and carnage he left on Khofar. As she lay on the rough sand, the pain from her injuries pulsed faintly, and she could not shake the mixture of fear and thirst that his proximity stirred within her. The island was a planet unknown to her, and as much as she tried to examine the surface, its location remained elusive. She supposed it might have been somewhere in the Outer Rim or beyond. Somewhere where the Republic would have a difficult way of finding her. World away from the Republic’s watchful eyes, and here, with only Qimir for company, she felt both vulnerable and strangely contented.

She decided to relax on the beach, further away from Qimir’s constant presence that melted her thoughts. However, luck wasn't on her side; minutes after settling in, he walked past her to his favorite bathing spot, smirk on his face as he acknowledged her presence. It was late at night, her legs and arms sore from the repetitive training she put herself through. The island offered few diversions. Waiting for Qimir’s next move or for Sol to find her wasn’t her idea of a perfect day. The injuries covering her body were difficult to ignore, and she refused to let Qimir get close enough to her to heal them. She told herself she would rather bleed out than feel his touch on her skin. Deep down, though, she knew the real reason for keeping him at bay.

So, she lay there, absentmindedly playing with a rock she found, irritated by his presence but too weary to consider moving again. She had to admit her fault; she had set up camp right in front of his favorite spot. Over the past week, she had seen him bare many times. First unbothered but lately it had gotten under her skin. She had been friends with Qimir for some time before discovering his true identity behind the mask and his responsibility for her friends' murders. Their deaths pained her, but the betrayal and realization of his deception cut deeper. After many years, she thought she found herself a friend outside the temple. One that she could share her interests and secrets with, without the fear of being judged by the Jedi. She told him about her fears and likes. Her doubts in the order and her wish to help people as much as she could. About her hate and desire. The Sith emotions. Now he’s using them to lure her in and trap her on the other side.

She wasn’t the most perceptive, but his intentions were clear. He knew her feelings, her likes, and dislikes; she had shared them with him when she believed he was her friend and a supplier. Even a blind person could see his thoughts, and her strength in the Force allowed her to delve into his mind, revealing more than she wished to know.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he slowly shed his clothes to enter the water, a routine he seemed to relish. Despite her experiences in battles and missions, witnessing the horrible conditions and lack of hygiene, even her comrades didn’t bathe as frequently as Qimir did before her. She considered herself fortunate; at least he smelled good, even if the scent of sandalwood mixed with citrus fruit drove her mad. She smelled it when she woke up, during meals and training, and before sleep. She felt him everywhere. She wasn’t sure for how much longer she could endure it.

She studied the muscles of his back as he swam slowly, admiring them from her vantage point. He was undeniably strong, scars marring his skin a testament to the pain he had endured. She observed how his dark hair moved with his motions, how he ran his long thick fingers through it while washing it gently. His biceps tensed as he splashed water around his neck, and she noticed the way he caressed his chest, attempting to cleanse away the day’s dirt.

It was only when she accidentally crushed the rock in half that she realized the intensity of her stare. Clearing her throat, she sat up and leaned against the mossy bank behind her, feeling shame wash over her. She was convinced his own dreams had started to corrupt her.

One of the curses of being a Jedi was the ability to read minds, and Qimir was no exception. She saw his thoughts vividly, filled with bright colors that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. She wondered if he wanted her to delve into his mind, to make her believe he desired her, or if he simply didn’t care. She feared he could read her thoughts too, despite her lifelong ability to block out others with ease.

She lied to herself, convincing herself that she was immune to his ideas, desires, and magnetic charm. But every time he looked at her, towered over her, or she smelled him in the air, her knees buckled, her stomach tightened, and she fought against the need to press her legs together. She felt sick, and his mind brushing against hers didn’t help.

She felt it every time he drew near. He visualized her hands in his mind, how they caressed his scars and shoulders. She saw his hair falling down as he towered over her, gently pushing her against the cold floor of his cave. She felt his breath against her neck, his fingers pulling her hair, his skin pressed against hers. In his dreams, she never resisted. He was corrupting her in his dreams, and she never once objected in them. She was embarrassed he got her mannerisms right.

She was so lost in their shared thoughts that she didn’t notice Qimir making his way out of the water, his eyes fixated on her with dangerous intensity. He carefully leaned down to grab a towel, amusement playing on his lips. He didn’t want to wake her from her thoughts, whatever they may have been.

As he gently dried himself with the soft cloth, not taking his eyes off her, he tried to read her mind, even if he failed millions of times before. He never had difficulty reading someone; one look at them and he could see their whole past. But with her, he had no idea what she was thinking or planning, or what images played in her head. She was strong, stronger than the ones he had met before, and he admired that. He praised her strength in the Force and her ability to protect herself from her nemesis. Like him.

But he could read body language. He noticed how she tensed around him when he walked past her. How her chest started rising faster whenever he stared her down. Her goosebumps when they brushed against each other. How she pressed her legs together when he towered over her. And how she was now crushing the rock in her hand, gazing in his direction.

“You can always join me, you know that.” He breathed out, letting the cloth fall to the ground, replacing it with his long blouse. She almost wanted to take the top from him just so she could continue her view, but when she finally recollected her thoughts, she wanted to slap herself. “It would help with your wounds when you don’t let me heal them.” He uttered, dressing himself, not breaking eye contact with her. He liked her stare. He liked how she fought with her emotions and how they reflected in her eyes. It pleased him.

“I’m okay,” she faked a smile, swallowing the ridiculous amount of saliva in her mouth. She forced herself to look somewhere other than his strong forearms or how he dragged the pants up his muscular legs. She found a cute shell, admiring it from afar.

She didn’t catch the grin on his face as her face turned pink and she clenched her fists. He was amused with her reactions, but her ripped bandage and the blood revealing itself underneath caught his full attention. His face froze, along with his movements while buttoning up his shirt. He would never touch her unless she wanted him to, but her leg was nowhere near being healed and with the lack of medical supplies on this island, she’d lose it long before she’d be able to leave the island.

“Let me help you.” It wasn’t a question, more of a subtle order. She didn’t miss it. A week ago, on Khofar, Qimir had stopped himself before fatally hurting her, but he still landed a strike on her leg that had trouble healing. She was stubborn enough to push him away when he offered his help, and now she started to slowly regret it.

“I don’t need anything from you,” she hissed at him, catching a glimpse of his unbuttoned blouse.

“You’re a powerful Jedi, and I don’t doubt you’d be still as fierce as you are now without your leg,” he murmured, making his way towards her, leaving his bag and shoes near the water. “If you want to risk it.” She watched him tilt his head as he slowly approached her. She could only see the images in his mind, his plans and ideas. But underneath it all, he didn’t mean it in a bad way. He wanted to help her. In his own way. He was her friend; he knew her weaknesses and strengths. He knew what she wanted, and he was willing to give it to her. But she couldn’t erase the lying and murder of her friends. She wanted her friend back. Maybe something else this time, but her trust in him had faded. Now it was just Qimir, confusing her thoughts and making her rethink her morals. She felt as disgusted with him as she felt with herself. But she understood him. Or at least tried to.

So, she didn’t oppose, letting him kneel in front of her, his hands carefully reaching out to her ripped bandage above her knee. He was so close she could smell him again. His hair fell into his face, covering his eyes that were focusing only on her wound. His fingers worked fast but tenderly as he lifted her thigh to unwrap the bandage. She swallowed hard, feeling his veiny hand below her leg. She was scared he could feel her burning skin, hoping he would mistake it as a result of the injury.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you on Khofar,” she heard him whisper, gripping the sand below her as he threw away the bandage, the cold air kissing her open wound. She almost heard pity in his voice. She was certain she imagined it.

She begged herself to look away, but her eyes betrayed her as they glared down at his hand that was almost as big as her thigh. He covered the wound, not touching it fully, concentrating on restoring her cells.

She was fascinated by how quickly the wound closed up, leaving only a small scar across her thigh. She had wanted to learn how to force heal ever since she lost her friend to a fatal injury as a kid, but the Jedi never taught her. No matter how hard she pleaded. Whenever she asked, they gave the same answer: only dark side users possess this power. She always felt it was ridiculous.

“How do you do it?” she managed to ask, ignoring Qimir’s confused stare as he picked up his head and drew his hand away from her. But he didn’t move position and kept kneeling between her feet. “How do you force heal?” she felt embarrassed asking, but he was one of her only chances to learn.

A soft smile crept to his lips as he moved his eyes from her face to her hands. She suddenly became aware of her vulnerable position.

“In order to heal someone,” he started, softness in his voice, no signs of mockery. “You need to focus on your own energy, imagine it and visualize it. Imagine its color, like you do with the Force.” He continued, his hands moving in motion with his words.

She could feel the warmth radiating off him as he sat centimeters away, his wet hair framing his sharp features. His eyes were dark, only the light of the moon reflecting in them. His lips were full, stretched as he shared his knowledge with her. She didn’t move a muscle and returned his stare. It was only the two of them.

“The Jedi teach only one way. Physical way. Taking your physical energy and giving it to someone who needs it,” he whispered, leaning his head to the side, giving her a view of his sharp jaw. His neck was thick, his collarbones defined. “But there is another way.” He stopped to look at her, examining her expression. She was listening intently, breathing fast, and her eyes bored so deeply into him he was certain she could read everything he was thinking. He let her.

“Below the surface of consciousness are powerful emotions. Anger. Fear. Loss.” He started listing, his eyes twitching between her eyes and her lips. “Desire.”

Her leg muscles twitched, her core burning up. She wanted to bury herself.

“Only Sith feel those emotions,” she whispered back, denying herself. She saw a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth before he lowered his gaze.

“You can draw energy from them, direct them in any way you want,” he purred, looking back at her, letting her feel his emotions. “However, whenever you want.” He lowered his voice as he stretched the last words, reading her face.

He knew she read his mind. He knew she saw the images that kept him awake and his wishes. He had had them since he met her months ago, and when he sensed her attraction toward him, they only intensified. He wanted her and was simply waiting for her to admit the same to herself, no matter how long it would take.

#star wars #qimir the acolyte #qimir #osha x qimir #star wars qimir #qimir smut #qimir x reader #qimir fic #acolyte ep6 #the acolyte #star wars the acolyte #starwars fic #star wars smut #starwars

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causenessus · 7 months

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Realizing He Loves You. | Haikyuu

inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, kuroo, kenma

written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)

song recc: my loves get special treatment and all get a song or quote of their own again but just for fun </3 sideways by cleo sol

word count: 1922 words

summary: "when does he realize he loves you/what does he do to show that he loves you?"

little bit of crack? nekoma performs a psychology experiment (??) i just had a little bit of fun writing this and projecting onto like all of them <3 but i just love them all sm and i'm making up for not including kenma in my last post mb guys

akaashi

"don't shorten your speech. i love your details."

if you thought he paid attention to bokuto, you’re not ready for what he gives you

he gives you everything <3 anything you could ever ask for, he’ll get you it

he’s always hoping to see you, when he hears a door open, he looks up, hoping it might just happen to be you

it doesn’t click at first that he’s purposely looking out for you on instinct, but he starts to realize it as he finds himself orbiting around you more and more

he gives you his full attention whenever you say something, and if you get sidetracked or forget what you’re talking about, you best believe he remembers what you’ve already said and will try and prompt your memory by explaining what you’ve already told him

will also check in and remember things that you have said in the past, like you told him about a new book you were reading and the next time he sees you, he’ll ask you how it's going. or if you guys are too busy and he doesn’t ask you about it then, he’ll ask you about it another time he sees you. but either way, it always surprises you and touches your heart when he remembers <3

you best believe he’s always making time for you too

burst into the gym, his classroom, or bedroom and he’s already dropping everything for you

“keiji, you’ll never guess what happened!”

“what happened, love?”

the moment he probably fully realized how much he loved you was when he started holding your hands to stop you from picking at them

he’s always paying so much attention to you and he cares so much about you that he lovingly tries to stop you from habits like biting your nails or picking at your skin <3

he’ll notice that you’re doing it when you’re sitting beside him and with all the care in the world he’ll be gently holding your hands, running his own pretty fingers along them and rubbing them

you know he’s doing it to stop you and help you but you’ll pout, saying, “that’s not fair, keiji, you pick at your fingers too :( ”

but he’ll only smile as he takes his eyes off his fingers playing with yours to look at you, “i know. but you're not allowed to because i love you.”

bokuto

everyone adores you (at least i do)

he couldn’t stop talking about you

he didn’t do it on purpose, but genuinely just kept bringing you up to everyone because you’re his everything <3

he does it with such love and adoration, the biggest smile on his face that no one can say no to him or interrupt him, they just keep listening

in all sorts of conversations, he’ll find a way to bring you into it and people know that if he doesn’t have practice, there’s a 99% he’s with you (that 1% is simply when it’s absolutely impossible for him to be with you

if anyone ever asks him what he did over the weekend, he’s always mentioning you, “my weekend? oh, my girlfriend and I…”

he has literally no reason to be vague he’s so proud of you and to be your boyfriend he’ll say it whenever he can <3

and just like how his his energy and determination is contagious on the court, so is his happiness when he talks about you

at some point someone on the team brought it up with a grin on their face to match his purely joyous one,

“man, you really love her, don’t you?”

he’d already thought about it a ton before, but to hear someone say it for the first time, it felt different

his face felt a little warm but he couldn’t help but nod,

“i do. i love her.”

oikawa

"jupiter couldn't keep me from you / oh, i'm yours."

he realizes it when seeing you makes him flustered and he can’t stop thinking about you

definitely talks about you a lot to anyone who he can get to listen

like it’s worse than bokuto

but it goes past that, you’re on his mind all the time, throughout his classes and afterschool

and this is NOT basic i swear let me explain

he’s smiling stupidly to himself all throughout the day, his head filled with moments he’s had with you

they’re just showing up in his head without him even trying but he’s not complaining

he’ll see you in the halls and he just can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face

he’ll be listening to songs and suddenly he’s relating them all to you, asap he started making a playlist for you as soon as he became the slightest bit interested in you, he just couldn’t stop thinking about you but at first he thought it was just normal

but then he’s there, helping clean the floors after volleyball practice and he’s in his own head, a lovesick smile on his face and his heart brimming with adoration for you

seijoh 4 is looking at the scene in confusion and worry, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the sight

“is he really that happy to be cleaning the floors?”

“maybe he’s imagining that his serve had hit kageyama in the face and not yahaba??”

“it irks me. trashykawa if you don’t wipe that stupid grin off your face–”

suddenly maki and mattsun are holding iwa back by the arms from marching over to the boy who's still stuck in his own world, smiling with a mop in hand

eventually maki pieces it together, the three of them approaching the boy once iwa has found the will to keep the rage inside again <3

“whose the lucky girl that’s got you smiling like that?” he asked with a taunting smile

to his surprise, tooru was completely transparent, no jokes or comebacks, a pink hue dusting his cheeks as he rested his chin on the handle of the mop with the same lopsided smile as always, “this girl i’ve been seeing…god, i think i love her.”

iwaizumi

"calling my lover 'mine' but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, 'mine' like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. 'mine' not like possession but devotion."

he realized he loved you when he found that he just wanted to do everything for you

the definition of “i know u can do it urself but let me spoil u <3”

he has a list of everything you like so that he always knew what to get you

he’s always coming up with special plans and gifts for anniversaries, birthdays and holidays

i just know he comes up with the best ideas

and i know everyone says this BUT HE’S SO walking on the open side of the sidewalk to guard you from passing cars omg <3

definitely a man whose skipping whatever he has going on that day to take care of you when you get sick or if you’re taking a mental health day

he just wants to make sure you’re completely taken care of and that you know how much you mean to him <3 he’s always reassuring you when you have even the slightest doubt that you are not and will never be an inconvenience or anything of the sort

is 100% holding your bag when you guys are walking at school

and ofc is holding your bags if you guys go out shopping is that even a question??

he’s always asking to take you out places and do something with you

unless you catch him in a gracious mood and give him three good reasons why he shouldn’t pay for something for you, you’re not winning

he’s paying and he’s happy to <3 if you’re really adamant about it, he’ll let you pay (sometimes) but will still try to get you to at least split it

he loves you so much he will give himself wholly to you whenever you ask for it

he can go from completely abusing oikawa to holding you so gently and speaking softly and lovingly in a split second <3

recovering from his beating, oikawa approached iwa again, as you left to take care of something else, “she’s really got you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?”

iwa only continued to watch your leaving figure, “i guess so. but i’d burn the world for her if she asked.”

kuroo

"hold on. hold on. i have to protest. do you think i would choose to live without you?"

he shows how much he cares for you by always making you his first priority

he’s always with you and always on time for you

it didn’t really click with him at first but he realized he loved you when he was thinking so much about making sure you knew that you were cared for and that you deserved nothing short of the best, including a man that is always there for you

i feel like tetsuro (with love) is the type of man who shows up late to things unapologetically at least ever so often

but never when it comes to you

expect him to always be there on an agreed time if not earlier

as researchers (the nekoma volleyball team) found in their experiment (completely unbiased and empirical), by just saying that the group was going to hang out and that you were going to be there, he was guaranteed to show up on time. but any other time, if you weren’t involved, there was a chance he was showing up at least 10 minutes late

(kenma was most certainly their control group to see what tetsuro’s normal behavior was for the people closest to him <3)

when yamamoto presented these findings to tetsuro himself, he simply shrugged

“so you’ll show up completely ready, hair styled and all for her but when it comes to us you come looking like a tornado hit you in the two blocks it takes to get to the convenience store and it set you back like 10 minutes??”

“well duh, i love her, not you.”

kenma

"so you see her / she's over in the corner / and you can't ignore her / there must be a reason"

he realized he loved you when he noticed that he was always keeping an ear open to listen for you

he’s not used to really working with others. like he’s either listened to (ie. brain of his team) or he’s working independently because he’s not going through the effort of putting up with people

you and kuroo on a good day are the exceptions

bc with you, it’s like he wants to hear from you

he doesn’t often love talking to people, and he hates when people interrupt him when he’s doing something, but when he’s playing games and you're around, he has one side of his headphones pushed behind his ear in case you say something to him

even before you guys were dating, when he sat next to you in class, because you sat to his left, he’d only put in his right earbud when he listened to music so he could hear you

and even when you guys are walking together, hand in hand, if he still has an earbud in, he makes sure to walk on the side of you that doesn’t have an earbud in <3

before practices have officially started, he’s completely unavailable and does not care for what anyone has to say to him

but then he sees you walking in and he’s got an earbud out or his headphones are pushed to the side immediately <3

kuroo notices this after some time and teased him about it, “oh? you never make an effort to listen to anything I have to say if you have your headphones on. does she mean that much to you?”

kenma didn’t even look up from his switch, but there was a small smile on his face at the question, “yeah, she does.”

#akaashi x reader #bokuto x reader #oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcannons

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mswyrr · 2 months

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Qimir consistently aches to see the pain the dark side causes Osha and I believe this will lead him to resist Plagueis' plans in s2.

His first moment of regret and resistance is, in fact, at the very completion of his seduction! He gets Osha to put the helmet on - and it hurts her. It's causing her pain, so he fights to rescue her from that. Even though, presumably, this was (with Plagueis, whether knowingly or unknowingly) the goal.

Let's backtrack a second and reflect on the seduction itself. The show creator/lead writer, Leslye Headland, has said that it wasn't manipulation on Qimir's part, that he meant everything he said. Two relevant quotes from the same interview with her on this point:

"So, in my opinion, Osha is extremely in denial about her own anger at the Jedi and at her father, i.e. Sol. She's in extreme denial about that because she feels like she's not allowed to be angry, and she's in an enormous amount of pain over her sister and their history, and she also feels like she's not allowed to feel that. So, someone coming in and saying, “Actually, feeling all those things is not only okay but actually could restore your spiritual foundation,” is almost too much. I don't think that's manipulation. I think he's telling her the truth."

"[T]he relationship between Lo and Jen in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was an influence in the writer's room. We referenced that relationship over and over again. The intentional parallel is that they are equals and their relationship is earned through mutual vulnerability, not intimidation or manipulation."

However, someone can be themselves misled and so mislead you too, from a place of sincerity! That is, perhaps, the most heartbreaking way of all to mislead someone. Qimir is lost - the Jedi path damaged him and he (like so many Jedi before him) snapped to the Sith path. It's not working for him, it's causing him pain likely, but he believes it and shares from that place. But the moment Qimir sees this path is causing Osha pain, he feels compelled to do something to help her.

Once he gets the helmet off Osha, Qimir seems relieved when he learns the vision Osha *thinks* she saw, of Mae "killing a Jedi without a weapon." (Which Qimir somehow knows is the goal here - to get Mae or Osha to fall - presumably because Plagueis either gave him the vision or told him directly to try to get that to happen?)

He's content with the idea that Mae will be the one to do it, fulfilling the vision/directive, and actively seeks to make it happen from this point on. He tries to talk her up into doing it at the pivotal moment, but that's not what she's about, her feelings about Sol are not so out of balance for her to "fall" as the Jedi and Sith understand it. She feels anger but also wants justice most, not revenge.

I read disappointment in how Manny plays his reaction to Mae's "No" - disappointment at "failing" sure but also I think it's related to the fact that he wanted it to be Mae, not Osha.

This was cemented for me by the way he played Qimir's reaction to Osha's fall. He's not celebratory, though he's just accomplished what he had been trying to since he began teaching Mae! He seems stricken, actually. There's no pleasure or satisfaction in his "success"! Witnessing Osha's pain only makes him feel compassion and bow his head in sorrow. This "success" is ashes in his mouth.

As a mutual on Twitter pointed out to me (♥️_LokiDokie!), Leslye's commentary in this interview supports this reading of Qimir as grief-stricken by what he's seen:

"Then it's like this passing through, stepping over the threshold, that actually will bring them closer together, which is so interesting. But the motivation I gave to Manny in that moment — in theater, we would call it dramaturgically — for, “Why is he stepping over to do that,” because it said it in the script, was, “You have been in this position. If you have a red lightsaber, you have felt this level of despair, rage, and dejection. So go over there and let her know that you have had that experience.” And he just did that beautiful thing. I was like, “Jesus Christ.”"

His reaction is a stark contrast to Mae, who never fell to the dark side, and doesn't understand what she's seeing - she mistakes this for Osha being liberated from Jedi mindwashing. THIS is what Qimir's face would look like if he thought this was a good thing and was happy about it:

The contrast is quite stark.

Qimir's sorrow for Osha continues as he attempts to comfort her and then sees she's bled the saber.

Intriguingly, Qimir has the helmet on and is "hiding" emotionally when he wipes Mae's memory. We don't get to see how that pain effects him. But the pattern throughout the episode is that when Osha hurts he aches too.

In the final scene, Qimir approaches Osha, again, without triumph at any of this. He's gotten everything he thought he wanted, but he looks at her and I read concern, sorrow, wariness.

He steps closer to her and takes her hand supportively, continuing his pattern (3 times in this episode!) of physically coming close to help/comfort her when she's hurting.

Then he raises his chin with resolve, but no happiness. They are facing the future, but they are "doomed" on the Sith path. Romantic love cannot live there anymore than it can thrive on the arid, repressed Jedi path. I think he suspects that - whether or not he's knowingly in league with Plagueis. Whatever is coming, the Sith path can only cause Osha more and more pain...

He cannot help but ache with her when he sees Osha in pain and want to help her. I cannot imagine an s2 where they continue down the Sith path without him breaking under the strain of watching the pain it causes her - he could endure it himself but seeing her do it? He'll snap. And that romantic love--something BOTH the Jedi and Sith reject and denigrate--that will help them escape imo. Here's a quote from Leslye I interpret as supportive of this reading. She references how the Sith path is inimical to romantic love and then alludes to the tantalizing possibility of escape:

HEADLAND: Oh, yeah! Again, they’re Sith. It's a different vibe. To me, it's gonna hit different because of their allegiance and who they are. So, yes, it is framed as romantic, but I do think, again, it's not gonna turn out great. I think if he's training her, “One to hold the power, one to crave it.” So they're starting off as equals, but what's gonna happen? Like in Romeo and Juliet, it's amazing because right at the beginning they're like, “Okay, these two die. Let's start the play.” As you're watching this incredible love story unfold, and it's one of the most beautifully iconic plays ever written, in the back of your mind, you're like, “This is not going to turn out well.” I want to clarify: They are not necessarily doomed or destined to fail as a team. But the Sith rule of two denotes a power imbalance. Which clearly, due to the final shot, is not their relationship. Also, Plagueis complicates their journey as Sith, because we know his apprentice is eventually Palpatine. They will not defeat him.

I feel pretty confident that the love he feels for her is pivotal to their journey away from the Sith path and what Plagueis wants for Osha - both because Leslye knows this is not a good path and because of the deep sense of care and connection Qimir already feels for Osha.

Combine this with Leslye's comments and imo it being unlikely that they'll repeat the same pattern with Qimir & Vernestra that they did with Sol & Osha and just the overall "sameness" that would come of hammering the endless cycle in more and I just don't buy that as the direction we're headed.

It is possible to tell it as a relentless tragedy and keep hammering the endless, inescapable cycles but, while tragedies are valid (I enjoy hotd!), even they have a narrative form more varied than that usually. And this IS a "coming of age" psychological/mythic Star Wars story at the end of the day. And one Leslye (happily gay married with a child!) drew on her own experiences (with religious trauma) to write... she didn't end up trapped in darkness why would a young protagonist like Osha have to?

Here's the full Leslye quote about religious trauma, since I believe it's vital to understanding where she and the writing team are going to take Osha, Mae, and Qimir:

You have a play, Cult of Love, coming to Broadway this fall. It’s about a Christian family gathering for the holidays. It’s inspired by your own experiences with your family. You were working on it at the same time as The Acolyte, from what I can tell. Did they influence each other? Our director, Trip Cullman, and I were talking about how it’s called Cult of Love because all cults have a dream, and the dream is really beautiful. Even Jim Jones started out trying to desegregate Indianapolis. This family in the play has this dream that they follow to the logical conclusion, which is that they never achieve it. I was raised Christian. Christianity is the ultimate dream. It’s a beautiful concept that God becomes human in order to love you more. Then you look at what Christianity has done to the world: colonization, genocide. It was a beautiful dream that doesn’t justify the human action that comes along. The Jedi also live in a dream, a dream they believe everybody has. In The Acolyte, the pilot ends with the line “An acolyte kills the dream.” The drama is to wake up to the fact that the dream doesn’t exist.

I think the point is for Osha and Qimir to wake up to the fact that both the Jedi and Sith "dreams" do not exist. They are toxic mirrors of each other - and Osha and Mae were born into a culture (the culture of the Coven and their mothers) that didn't see the force in the binary way the Jedi&Sith both do. Mae, who remembered and kept to the pov of the Coven, never fell to the dark side in a Sith way --she felt anger but balanced with a desire for justice, even when she killed-- it was only her sister, taught repression and self-denial by the Jedi, who did. Qimir and Osha have a conceptual/spiritual escape route open to them if they wish to use it.

Finally, Leslye has said that she's written Qimir as her "shadow" (in the Jungian sense) and that she feels close to him - and what does he want? "I want freedom." I don't think someone driven by that desire is going to just surrender himself AND the woman he loves to Plagueis the Creeper.

My wife was like, “What do you want to say?” I was like, “I wanna say that people don't want me to exist as a gay woman, as a woman in this particular space, working in this wild sandbox.” There was a whole crew of people who believed in me, but deep down, I felt like, “I am unaccepted for who I am because of what I believe in and wanting to wield my power the way I'd like without having to answer to the legion of people that just exist out there.” By the way, I think everybody feels this way. I think that's why it resonates when you're honest about yourself, and you get personal about it. When he says, “I want freedom,” that's what I want. I just want freedom. I want to be able to just be out there and be myself and be the type of artist I want to be without having to answer to anybody. That's why I feel so close to him.

#oshamir #the acolyte #the acolyte meta #qimir the acolyte #osha aniseya #my meta #long post

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aphantimes · 7 months

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Examples of Knuckles sensing all forms of Chaos Energy (and other things?) so I can aggressively point here whenever people forget about it

I see this part of Knuckles' abilities forgotten way too often and it drives me insane so here

1: HE CAN SENSE THE MASTER EMERALD.

Very blatant. His entire gameplay in SA1 and SA2 revolves around this ability. He innately has the ability to sense the Master Emerald and its shards. Rouge meanwhile is given an Emerald Detector in SA2 to explain her gameplay.

2: HE CAN SENSE CHAOS CONTROLS.

He senses "some strange energy" right before Sonic Chaos Controls right in front of him. Essentially predicting a Chaos Control. IDK how else you could read this lmao he literally sensed a Chaos Control. (I swear I never see anyone talk about this ever grrr)

3: HE CAN SENSE SOL EMERALDS AND CHAOS EMERALDS.

This interaction in Sonic Rush confirms that he can sense both Sol Emeralds and Chaos Emeralds. For him to be able to mistake Sol Emeralds for Chaos Emeralds without seeing them, he has to be using some sixth sense, and has to be familiar with sensing Chaos Emeralds as well.

4: HE CAN SENSE FAKE/ARTIFICIAL EMERALDS.

(This is from a Sonic Station Live segment, unofficial translation found here.)

Knuckles goes looking for a mysterious Emerald presence, and finds Tails' fake Emerald. Pretty straightforward. Also, evidence of the Master Emerald itself being sentient and able to direct Knuckles to investigate anomalies. (I wish more people made use of that, too.)

5: HE... HAS A LITERAL TREASURE SENSE, APPARENTLY?

(This is from a story on the Sonic Channel website. Original found here, unofficial translation from Windii Gitlord's blog found here.)

This is... a strange one. A bit of an outlier. I assumed that instances of Knuckles sensing treasures were purely gameplay mechanics, but here he appears to literally sense a pair of combat gloves, which is completely unrelated to Chaos Energy. So I guess he can do that too? But maybe it's only because he was led there by the ghosts of his ancestors? Who knows.

Oh yeah. BTW, Knuckles gets sent dreams by his ancestors' ghosts. That is canon. Someone pls use that in some way lol

So anyway. There. A bunch of examples of Knuckles sensing all forms of Chaos Energy, not just the Master Emerald. Throw this at someone if they question the extent of this ability and want evidence lol

#knuckles the echidna #master emerald #chaos emeralds #sol emeralds #chaos energy #sonic adventure #sonic adventure 2 #sonic rush #sonic station live #sonic channel #sonic the hedgehog #i remember a fic i read that had knuckles able to sense the m.e but not the chaos emeralds #ghhhghgghghg #plus yknow a mountain of fics that forget he has any relation to chaos energy at all. very epic and cool

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buckyarchives · 2 years

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second, first meeting | chishiya shuntarou

spoiler warning for ending of aib season 2

after the meteor, chishiya notices the all too familiar person. their a pull towards you - like maybe you’ve met somewhere? (gn reader)

words - 1.1k

a/n: WOW AIB 2 FINALLY OUT AND THE ENDING WAS REALLY GOOD I THINK. anyways arisu and usagis ending was so cute and i needed literally the “have we met?” scenario with ALL of them. and i’m a weak so i made this, very shoot, not beta’d, just a small and sweet drabble. enjoy reading!!!

—

Chishiya is alive.

He sure as hell didn't feel like it, but he was. The meteorite took a lot out of him, physically and mentally. Waking up in the beeping hospital room with a sudden new look on life, and he was going to do something about it. No more being a messenger for bad news, slowly tearing down people's hope one referral after another.

Dozens of people just experienced the same pain and trauma as he walked around him, some looking better than others. A girl with an amputated leg, a man in a coma as he passed by his room, and a girl and boy walking hand in hand with injuries littered over them. Humanity– always finding love in terrible suitaions.

Chishiya stood in one of the hospital common rooms, people-watching as he always does. God– it feels like a lifetime had passed since the meteorite. Chishiya was familiar with the whirring and beeping sounds of hospitals, people chatting and crying, and the strong smell of disinfectants and bleach. He was a doctor, all these things filled his life to the brim, it was familiar.

Even you.

You, who stood across the room; tucked into a corner (like chishiya), people-watching, snacking on crackers, and keeping yourself comfortably hidden. Yes, you’d caught his eyes. But something felt off deep inside his stomach, something was off about you. Almost like you were too familiar, chishiya could see a lifetime in your eyes and this is the only time he's ever seen you. Maybe, it wasn't?

Chishiya knew better than to laser focus on one person in the room, because your head perked up. Right into his direction, but chishiya’s gaze didn't falter– he couldn't even if he wanted to. The pull towards you was too intense, it made him dizzy. shock, confusion, remembrance? Flashed across your face, similar to him.

A small, sweet smile grew on your face. Fuck, what medication did they put him on? That meteorite really did a deal on him because suddenly he can’t breathe. For a moment he thought maybe his stitched came undone, half expecting to see blood soaking his scrubs when he looked down. But no– it was just you. Chishiya’s has never seen a smile so familiar, yet foreign.

Your eyes narrowed in his direction, like you were trying to read him. Something many people found difficult in the past, Chishiya didn’t put up a fight or a stone-cold face. Chishiya narrowed his eyes back, like a challenge.

So wrapped up in you that he didn't see the teenage boy wheeling a little too close to his toes in a wheelchair. “Ow!” chishiya yelped.

“Ah! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” the boy began to spew out a plethora of apologies, frantically bowing his head to the elder.

“It's okay!” chishiya reassure, the sting in his toe had already been subdued– an easy injury compared to the bandaged and stitched-up ones he gained a few days ago. “Seriously, it’s okay.”

The boys' apologies slowed and he wheeled off, practically still bowing. Chishiya chuckled under his breath at the gesture. Looking back up to find you again, weird– what's got into him? Your spot ghosted empty and chishiya’s eyes frantically searched for you, only to find your back now turned to him and trudging down the hallways. Right as his eyes landed on you, your neck turned and you glanced back at chishiya.

A challenge indeed.

Chishiya curiously cocked his head, looking something like a cat. And then one foot in front of another, chishiya was following you down the hallway. He wasn't sure why, maybe he didn’t need a reason. I mean, he almost died, chishiya felt like he didn’t need a solid reason to do anything anymore besides what he wanted. And he wanted to follow the beautiful, mysterious, and weirdly familiar person around in a hospital. Like cat and mouse.

And that's how chishiya ended up in a quieter, more intimate area. Middle of a hallway, near a set of tables and a vending machine. Usually, where loved one would sit weary-eyed and waiting for good news. You came to a halt, chishiya stopped. You turned around slowly, that sweet smile that made chishiya’s stomach feel weird (apart from the wounds.)

“You're following me.”

Something that would so usually sound like a question, was a statement. Because it was meant to be, because you knew he was from the beginning. You intended on it. Chishiya already likes you. And hell– your voice almost gave him whiplash, so silk and sweet. Echoing distantly in his head, like he's heard it a million times before.

“And you wanted me too,” chishiya replied coyly. His voice felt so scratching and his throat burned as he spoke, being without water and unconscious for too long. Shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning back slightly. Even half dead he must keep up his cool-guy image.

You didn’t reply, only a wider grin growing on your face. And chishiya found it hard to bite back one of his own. How so uncharacteristic of him – he felt so warm.

“Maybe.” you finally said.

Chishiya hummed, beginning to close the distance – one foot in front of another – between the two of you.

You watched him intently, chishiya knew it. Normally he’d perceive this as someone sizing him up, but your eyes told a different story as they trailed up his body. Something that'd make his ears hot and red.

“Meteor?” you asked, gesturing to his wounds. Chishiya nodded. “Me too.”

It was awkward for a moment, but not uncomfortable. The silence was deafening as if it wasn't meant for the two of you. Like there were so many words only on the tip of his tongue, words unsaid, words he didn’t even know – but they were begging to be spoken.

You were the first to break the silence, stepping closer. Now only 2 or 3 feet in front of him. “Have I, sorry, this is weird– but, have we met before? Like even passed each other on the streets.��

“Not to my knowledge.”

You hummed, looking around to avoid the intense eye contact that tugged you closer, and closer and–

“Would you like to know me?” chishiya said, his eyes not leaving yours. A weird sense of home lay in your eyes, chishiya was ready to jump fully in.

You tried to cover the eagerness in you, waiting a moment. Dramatically tapping a finger to your chin as you thought. “I think that’d be nice.”

Chishiyas lip quirked up, following yours.

He may not know you the way he feels, but he will.

#alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #i want to smother chishiya #chishiya x male reader #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #chishiya headcanons #aib #alice in boderland x reader

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etfrin · 8 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twelve | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | Canon typical violence, coriolanus snow, dr. gual, mentions of blood, mentions of period, period sex (fingering, f. receiving), dom-ish Coriolanus, mean Coriolanus, murder, aftercare | lmk if I forgot anything!

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus Snow finds himself in the arena and later in your arms

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 double update, and they had more than their first kiss? how are you liking it so far? please let me know! ❤️

beta read by perfection itself @nowitsmissing

series masterlist | navigation | taglist

The gong sounded at that moment, and the tributes scattered. Most fled to the gates that led to the tunnels, several of which had been blown open by the latest bombing. Coriolanus could see Lucy Gray run to the underground tunnel he had told her about.

‘Run!’ he thinks, and he could see Coral, the girl from District Four with her trident already killing tributes. The fights were a blur. He sees Lucy Gray noticing Jessup, the District twelve boy yet to pick up any weapons. The stupid songbird runs towards him instead of the tunnels and Coriolanus nearly stands up, wanting to yell at her for her actions. It was a few close calls, but she hadn't died.

She takes Jessup and flees under the tunnels. She tries to kick the door open, but the metal door refuses to budge. She looks around, afraid that other tributes would catch up. Meanwhile, Flickerman comments as other tributes rush in, “Hy and Sol on the other side pincering on Lucy Gray.”

There was a small space below the door, thankfully Coriolanus watched as Lucy Gray and Jessup managed to crawl in. Another tribute dies but is brutally murdered by Coral's pack. Meanwhile Jessup and Lucy Gray are safe in the room they were in.

Coriolanus relaxes in his seat, relieved for now. Six tributes were gone within minutes. Lucky Flickerman comments, “To the children watching, that was violent, horrific, and disgusting.” Coriolanus wants to scoff at the blatant hypocrisy, the games existed because the Capitol enforced it. It was violent because of the Capitol. It was disgusting but it wasn't on the districts.

Coriolanus catches himself, his chain of thoughts rebelling against his beliefs. He swallows and looks at you. Your free hand clutching your stomach, your face turning pale in sickness. Coriolanus finds himself overwrought, he leans in to whisper, “Are you alright?”

You let out a small groan and shook your head, “I started bleeding this morning. The painkillers aren't kicking in and the cramps are getting worse.” It takes Coryo an embarrassing amount of time to understand what you meant. You're on your period. Oh. Your earlier behavior made a bit more sense now, you were in pain and you were acting out.

He knew the basics of the menstrual cycle thanks to the Academy teaching Sex Ed. And Tigris never shied away from it either, she made sure Coriolanus knew that period was an extremely normal thing a woman (or anyone with a uterus) has to go through each month. He lets his eyes soften, and he squeezes your hand in a comforting manner.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked.

You shake your head in response, but you look even sicker than before. Coriolanus felt displeased seeing you like this, you should have been resting instead the damn games kept you here. It also explained why you had to skip your interview too. You were too sick.

He looks at the screens. Nothing interesting was happening now. It was so boring that Lucky Flickerman had switched to his former job of being a weatherman. Coriolanus decided to go to the cafeteria, hoping to find something you could snack on. That should help a tiny bit.

“I will be back,” he announced, getting up from his seat and heading to the cafeteria. He sees the assortment of food, he heads straight for the sandwiches first. He takes a plate and gets four sandwiches. Two for each of you. Then he searches for something sweet, thankfully, due to the joyous occasion of the games. The cafeteria made different sorts of desserts including chocolate. Coriolanus made sure to pile them up on the plate, leaving nothing behind. He wasn't sure what you liked after all. He was hoping to find out after this.

Then he looks at one of the staff, and he's not sure if he should ask or not. But then he remembered how you were clutching your stomach. With a sigh, he calls someone out, a fellow worker who looks back and politely smiles at Coriolanus.

“Is there any possible way to be given hot water in a bottle?”

“If it's to drink we can give you a glass-”

“No, it's for my girl. She has cramps.”

The female worker nods in understanding and tells him to wait. Coriolanus looked at the clock of the cafeteria, five minutes had passed. He wondered if anything was happening. He hoped that he hadn't missed anything and the songbird was safe. She was the key to everything after all.

“The show isn't over until the mockingjay sings,” he mutters in futile reassurance.

The worker comes in and hands him the hot water bottle. Coriolanus thanks her and rushes back to the auditorium. “You're back,” you said to him, your gaze on the plate of food he had bought. The only meal both of you had was the breakfast he cooked, and neither finished it. So it was understandable you were hungry.

“What did I miss?” He asked, handing you the hot water bottle. You stare at the metal bottle for a moment, baffled by the gesture. He could see your eyes to water and he felt dread creeping in his mind. Had he fucked up? He wanted to do something nice, that's all. He wanted to take care of you!

“Thank you,” you choked out, your voice thick with vulnerability. You press the hot water bottle to the area of your cramps and blink the tears away. “And sorry…” you muttered sheepishly, “Shouldn't have behaved that way.”

“It's fine,” he said, even if it wasn't. You shouldn't have been rude to him, so unnecessarily, but he will let go for now. He turned away to look at the screen to see Marcus was dead, lying on the ground.

Coriolanus turns to you for an explanation. You were ravishing your sandwich. “Mercy killing,” you had simply replied, “That girl killed him with an ax.”

“Well, that's what happens when you do stuff!” Lucky Flickerman comments, “You get attention.” He moved toward Pup Harington, the mentor of District Seven, Lamina. He explained the rules of communicuff. Pup Harington seizes the opportunity to send his tribute a bottle of water.

Coriolanus can see through the screen that the girl from District Seven reaches out to get the glass bottle. She has to duck to avoid crashing into the metal drone as the drone doesn't slow down and crashes into some debris behind her. Breaking the water bottle as well. Pup Harington curses and Coriolanus leans forward as he realizes the faulty mechanism of the drones. He can't send Lucy Gray water or food unless he wants to risk hurting her.

You tsk, “These were probably last-minute inventions to infuse your idea,” you bite the dark chocolate he bought you, “She could have done it next year.”

“She needs the games to shine this year to have games for the next year,” Coriolanus replied.

“What's the point if it's faulty?”

Coriolanus doesn't reply to that, he turns his focus to the screen. Staring at the death of Marcus from District Two and wondering what was his sin to receive this fate. All he did was run for his life.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

None were remaining in the auditorium except you and Coriolanus. You were asleep in your chair and Coryo was dozing off. Trying to keep his focus on the screen; in case anything happens. He was nearly asleep when Dr. Gauls' voice caused him to flinch and be awake.

“Mr. Snow,” she hisses like a snake.

“Dr. Gaul,” he said, his gaze turning into your sleeping form before he met Dr. Gauls' crazed eyes.

“Did something happen? Is it Lucy Gray?”

“Unless you can put a leash on your deluded classmate, she might as well be dead as far as you're concerned.”

Ugh, what the fuck did Sejanus do this time. Go into the arena? Then he realized the irony of his thoughts because he could see Sejanus Plinth through the medium of the screen that was broadcasting the games. He was in the arena.

Sejanus Plinth was in the arena.

The fuck is wrong with him! And why is Dr. Gaul visiting him over this, shouldn't she go to his daddy? He was tired, and his body hurt from sitting in the chair for long hours. Why was he stuck in this mess?

“Bread crumbs I believe,” Dr. Gaul said, turning towards the screen in which he could see Sejanus Plinth wasting precious bread, sprinkling it over the corpse. “Sustenance for a fallen comrade. District two superstition.”

Coriolanus frowned as he watched Sejanus wasting the bread in this manner. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It would have made more sense to him if he sneaked into where Lucy Gray was and handed her the food. Instead, he was throwing it on a rotting corpse. Only the districts are capable of this stupidity.

“I need someone to get him out right now,” she said.

Was she implying he would go to the arena for a ridiculous Plinth boy? He knew she was insane but this was borderline dumb. He doesn't want to risk his life!

“You should send the Peacekeepers,” he replied, as calmly as possible. He doesn't want to go. He's not suicidal enough for that.

Dr. Gaul goes on to explain why she can't send Peacekeepers and the district. She even mentions his classmate, Felix Ravinstill. Frankly, Coriolanus couldn't bring himself to care. Let the Plinth boy die, it's the consequence of his action.

Then Dr. Gaul adds, “Who knows? You get him out unscathed, I'll whisper your name in his father's ear. You still want the Plinth Prize, don't you?” Dr. Gaul knew that he didn't need to verbally agree, his expression was enough.

“I'll freeze the feed for an hour. I estimate that's all we have before the people notice.”

Then, Dr. Gaul leaves after informing Coryo that there's a van waiting for him to take him to the arena. He begins to stand up from his seat, getting ready for the journey to his doom.

“You know I am going with you, right?”

He startled, turning towards you, he firmly said to you, “No.” He watched you rub your eyes, you were sleepy that was clear. You must have woken up while that witch was talking. You shake your head in response.

“Don't care. I won't let that bitch make you go alone.”

He said your name in warning. You glare at him with your adorable, tired eyes. “I am going, Coriolanus Snow. Or else I'll tell everyone about what Sejanus is doing right now.”

He clenched his jaw. He grits out, “You could die.”

“So could you!”

He doesn't argue against that.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

A van takes you and him towards the arena. Losing precious minutes that you use to nap. Your head on his shoulder, while he ran his fingers along his scar, thinking of scenarios to bring all three of you alive. He would sacrifice Sejanus to save you. There's no doubt about that. But it's an action he can't afford right now.

So he thinks and thinks. His mind grew increasingly agitated. There's so much that can go wrong. One wrong move. A tribute waking up and deciding that they were easy kills. Caging them. Torturing you. Hurting you. He feels his breathing getting faster, his vision blurring as these thoughts begin to attack.

He gasps, his eyes closing. His chest rapidly moved up and down. He bit his lower lip until he tasted blood. He forced himself to breathe through his nose. There's no time for an attack right now. He doesn't have the luxury of that. He lets the weight of your head anchor him.

He's going to have a future. He's not going to let anything happen to you. And nothing will happen to him. Sejanus will come out of this alive as well.

Snow lands on top.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

He doesn't let you go in. He won't. When you tried to insist, he growled at you, “I won't be getting him back if I am trying to save you. I need to get him back. I can't make you a higher priority here.” You narrowed your eyes but Coriolanus knew you didn't have a fighting bone in your body. Your hands wove into his curls, and you make him reach your height.

“Then you better come back, Coriolanus Snow. Alive. Otherwise, you won't like the consequences.”

He wants to kiss you. God, he wants to kiss you. He decided that he would come back alive from this. He will. He will steal your breath and make you lose all of your senses. He will ruin you because life is too unpredictable, too short. He can't wait any longer.

He leaves you there. He walks inside the arena, the monotone voice announcing his entry with the usual ‘Enjoy the game’. It sends chills down his spine.

Snow sees Sejanus near the dead body of Marcus. Coriolanus tiptoes across the field. Sejanus laughs quietly when he sees Coriolanus. “Thought they would send my Ma,” he said, bitterly.

“You need to get out, Coryo,” he said and Coriolanus wanted to choke him. It was a nickname for family and friends. A nickname for you. And he had used it blatantly for the first time in a situation like this nonetheless.

“I would like to,” Snow whispered, annoyed. “I really would. But I promised to get you out.”

“Why?”

Because I need to win the Plinth Prize.

Because Dr. Gaul forced me.

“Because you're my friend,” he lied.

“I had to do this,” Sejanus begins to explain, looking desperate, begging to be understood. “I had to go where the cameras were.”

Unfortunately, Coriolanus wasn't the right person for it. “Do you think anyone is watching this? She cut off the feed. You die here and she'll say you died of the flu.”

“You need to decide,” Coriolanus huffed, “Are you gonna be a dead body in Gauls' war or do something actual good?”

“What good can I do out there?”

Was it too late to choke him?

“You're smart. You're rich. You care.” Coriolanus argued, “You can do it if you want. With your father's money.” Sejanus and Coryo flinch when they hear noises in the quiet arena. It was the sound of sharpening knives. “We’re dead if we don't leave right now,” Coryo hisses.

Coriolanus and Sejanus begin to leave. Coriolanus gripped his arm to practically drag him away from Marcus's body. Just then he hears footsteps, and he freezes. Then yells out at Sejanus to run as a tribute comes towards them with a long knife. Sejanus and Coriolanus reach the entrance of the arena, Coriolanus jumps over the entry point but Sejanus trips.

Sejanus holds his knee, groaning and Coriolanus runs back to get him. The tribute catches up and manages to slash Coriolanus back. Coriolanus lets out a blood-curdling scream from the pain, adrenaline rushing in. He has to go back. He has to go back to you; you're waiting for him.

Coriolanus’s fingers closed around a two-by-four, and he brought it up, catching Bobbin in the temple hard, sending him to his knees. And then he was on his feet, using the board like a club, bringing it down again and again without being sure where it made contact.

“We have to go!” Sejanus shouted.

He pants, throwing the board aside. The boy was dead and he wasn't sure what to make of the rush he felt as he saw another dead body in front of him. One of his own making. One that assured him of his survival and made him feel alive.

Sejanus brings back to reality as more tributes come in. He and Sejanus run out as the Peacekeepers open the barricade. He was brought to the ground by the weight of a body. He groans as he feels you on top of him. His back was bleeding onto the ground.

“You're alive,” you whisper, your eyes wide, and your lips swollen as if you constantly bit down, concerned about him. He wrapped his arms around you.

He lets out a heavy sigh, “Not if I bleed out, sweetheart.” You take your weight off him and help him stand up. Your eyes take in the blood with horror on your face. He whispered his arms around you, “It's fine. I am okay.”

In the distance, he can see Sejanus approach them and he's too pissed at him to have a proper conversation right now. It seemed you shared the same sentiments because the moment Sejanus came close, you pushed him. He doesn't fall but the impact makes him take a few steps back.

“You! It's because of you and your stupid beliefs that you do nothing but whine about that has led to this! It led him to bleed, Sejanus! How will you pay for his blood!? Fucking get out of here to your ma before I recreate the fucking wound on you!”

Sejanus flinches, looking betrayed. Sejanus looked at Snow but he had to look away because he simply was so proud of you. He was proud that you stood up, he was proud that you voiced what he wanted to say. He was also amused because thinking of your origins, you should have similar beliefs with Sejanus.

But you were simply concerned about Coriolanus, nothing else. It made Snow feel grateful he had you. You cared and you didn't try to hide it.

Sejanus doesn't try to say anything else. He walks with his head down to the car in which his ma and pa were waiting. Coriolanus pulls you back into his arms. “You didn't have to be so harsh,” he whispered, despite the fact he had enjoyed it so, so much.

“Who's the tribute that hurt you?”

“The boy is dead,” Coriolanus glees, unable to make himself look sane. He was bleeding out, adrenaline still pumping in his veins and with you in the equation. He felt drunk. “I enjoyed killing him.”

Coriolanus doesn't find out about your reaction to his confession as the toll of his blood loss takes over and his vision darkens. He goes unconscious.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

He groans as he wakes up from the darkness. A dull pain in his back. He recognized that an IV needle was stuck in his arm. His shirt was off, and the wound was stitched. He looked around to find out that he was in the lab, and Dr. Gaul was present, looking straight at him from a corner. He was proud of the fact he didn't flinch. He swallowed the nervousness, and greeted, “Dr. Gaul.”

“Mr. Snow,” She greets back, her voice booming, “Never thought I would see Crassus’ boy in the arena.”

He doesn't say anything, nor does he look at her. His gaze turns towards the glass containers filled with greenish liquid and some kind of horrid experimentation. Dr. Gaul drawls on, “Do you want to be like your father, Mr. Snow? Then it's essential to accept what human beings are and what it takes to control them.”

For tonight, Coriolanus Snow was a murderer. He had to accept that, he took a life for his survival, but he enjoyed it. He vaguely remembers confessing it to you. Horror fills him, he fucked up whatever he had with you for sure. Killing someone for your survival was one thing, even Sejanus can't hate him for it. But enjoying it? Feeling powerful as he felt someone's life draining out. It felt like drinking an elixir to Snow.

He can't imagine the disgust you felt when he admitted it. He can't- how will he fix this- he wipes away the tears staining his cheeks. He would beg and grovel, he would lie if you bring it up.

Dr. Gaul misinterpreted the misery on his face. “You did what you had to, Mr. Snow.” Then she begins to walk away, a clear dismissal.

“Yes,” he replied, cordially, “I am aware.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

He enters the penthouse; he stops in his tracks as he sees you sitting down in the dining space. Waiting for him. It was extremely late at night by now and you were here, awake. Coriolanus was touched by how freely you showed your care through your actions. From the meal (orange chicken and rice) you gave in the car till now. You cared. So openly, so fiercely.

Unlike him.

His care was always hidden. “Dove,” he whispered, a nickname for you like Coryo was for him. Perhaps his care wouldn't be concealed under layers anymore. Your head snaps towards him, and with long strides, you meet his arm. You are careful about your hand placement, making sure not to hurt him or put pressure on his wound.

“Coryo,” you rasped out, “Coryo, Coryo, Coryo.” You bury your face in his chest and for a moment he thought you were sobbing but you were just taking deep breaths in. He holds you tighter, suffocating you, anchoring you like you did for him. He didn't care that it pulled his stitches.

“Hi,” he whispered sheepishly, he forgot about the arena, the murder, Sejanus, and Dr. Gaul. He remembers you and only you.

“Hi,” you giggle back, your eyes teary. “You're here,” you whispered, “Real or not?”

He let out a small laugh, “I am not a hallucination, dove.”

You shrugged in his arms, “Lack of sleep can cause them. For all I know this is a dream and you're still under the care of that bitch.”

“I am here,” he emphasized his words with a kiss on your hairline. He looks into your eyes and sees how real all of this is. He can make you his reality. He needs to seize it. He needs to control his fate.

He realized you hadn't questioned him about the blood on his hands. He was going to bring it up if you weren't. He would let his confession remain buried if that's what you wanted. No need to unleash his demons onto you.

He guides you to his bedroom, but he gently presses you to the door. He has you in between him and the door. There's no escape, so much for not unleashing his demons when he's a devil in disguise himself. He nuzzles your neck and lets out a desperate, needy noise.

His tongue peeks out to lick a strip of your neck. You gasp, your tense body melting into him. He holds you by grabbing your waist with his hands. “I need you,” he whispered, he pulled back and looked at you with pathetic, puppy eyes; impossible to say no to.

“Give yourself to me, Coryo.”

It's your fault. He will give himself to you. Demons and all. Bloody, pathetic, insane Coriolanus Snow, he's yours now.

“Yours,” he groaned, pressing wet, desperate kisses onto your neck, you move your head to give him more space, more skin to mark. He growls near your ear, letting the past high rush into his veins. The hold he has on your waist gets tighter. You were in different clothes, your academy uniform changed into a simple pink top and jeans.

You let out a moan when he bites into your neck, breaking the skin to form a dark bruise. You pressed into him like a whore. You whine, “I should let you kill more men if it gets you like this.”

He freezes. He then leans back. His lips parted to take in breaths, his pupils blown and his cheeks a deep wine red. He looks debauched and sexy. It drives you insane. You don't say anything further, waiting for his reaction.

He breaks out a feral, primal grin on his face. You were perfect for him. God, you were. He let his fingers wove themselves into your locks and he tugged hard. He relishes the whine that leaves your lips. It didn't hurt, no, he could see the same insane lust in your eyes that he felt in his blood.

He crashed his lips onto your soft ones. Both of your teeth clashed against each other as he kissed for the first time in his life. It was in no way perfect. Too much tongue, uncoordinated, sloppy, wet and so, fucking filthy. His blood rushed down his body as he sucks at your tongue, his fingers pulling at your hair tighter, moving your head so he could fuck your lips with his tongue. His free hand went near your neck. It would be easy to take your life, he realized.

He felt your pulse under his fingertips. His hand around your neck, it was there but he didn't put any pressure on it. His lips attached to yours still engaged in a fight for dominance, and neither of you was willing to give in. Each chasing your own, selfish pleasure through the kiss. He disappointingly understood he would never be able to live a life with you dead. Your beating heart gave him the same rush taking a life did.

You made him feel alive simply by existing.

Your existence is his survival.

You're his.

He groans into your mouth as he comes to the realization. He breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting you both. He immediately went back for a few more kisses, already craving your lips like it was cocaine, chasing the chocolate taste on your tongue.

You gasp, taking in much-needed air as both break away again. His hand which was on your neck, travels to your jeans to unbutton them. Your hand holds his wrist before he can slide your pants off.

“Am bleeding,” you whispered, your eyes wide.

He had seen plenty of blood today, what's more? “Don't care,” he grunts out, he slides your jeans down, along with your panties letting it pool around your ankles. You kick them aside on the floor.

He buried his face into your shoulder, as you took a deep breath. “Can I?” He asked, his hands waiting for permission as his blunt nails dug into your thighs. Frankly, he doesn't even want to ask. And one day, he won't have to.

“Yes, Coryo,” you consent, your voice breathless and needy.

He was glad you couldn't see the satisfied grin on his face. He ignored his aching cock as his fingers slowly traveled up to between your soaked cunt. He pressed his palm against your pussy, letting his hand be colored by your blood and juices. He begins to move his palm up and down your folds and you moan, oversensitive. You begin to rut into his hand and he warningly squeezed your thigh.

“No,” he barks out, a sudden slap on your pussy making you cry out. “Behave, dove.”

You let out a whine, and Coriolanus doesn't want to handle a brat when he's feeling heaven for the first time. He slaps your pussy again, making you jolt. He whispered, dark and menacing, “Behave, bitch.”

“Coryo,” you moan.

“That's it, dove. Let me play with you,” he encourages as his fingers begin to touch your pussy, feeling up your slick folds, your slit through which you leaked out thick goops of blood he couldn't care less about.

His thumb finds your clit, he realized the bud was the source of pure bliss to you from the way you gasped as he began to play with it. His thumb roughly circles around the pearl, and you whine out his name, your hips bucking in again like a whore.

He allows you to do this, knowing that your brain is mush from the pleasure. He begins to bite into your neck, creating more dark hickeys that luckily the academy uniform will hide. He lets out a groan as he slips inside the first digit of your warm, slick, and tight gummy walls. His cock throbs with need. But he won't fuck you so soon, with everything still new to him.

“Fuck,” you cuss, your eyes rolling back. You would have fallen on the floor if it wasn't Coriolanus supporting you. He fucks into your warmth with a single finger, unsure if he should put another one in.

“More,” you whine and he listens. He gently thrust another of his long and dainty fingers inside of your bloody, wet cunt. He moans as he feels your walls pulsate against his digits.

“You feel perfect around my fingers. Look at your pussy squeezing them like a vice. Will your cunt squeeze my cock like that too?” He whines into your ears, growing desperate, his hips rutting into your side. The friction of his pants on his dick was dry but gratifying. He knew he spoiled his pants with pre-cum. He didn't care. He hears you whimper, unable to answer his sinful words.

“Coryo! Slow down!” You cry out as his fingers fuck into you at a rough pace, he wasn't sure what felt good for you or not. He listens, slowing down considerably, he decides to crook his fingers and finds a spongy spot pressing into his fingertips.

You let out a scream of pleasure, and Coriolanus has to use his free hand to shut you up. He pressed his palm onto your lips, muffling your noises. You liked him pressing into that spot. He crooked his fingers even more, rubbing the spot. He giggles as he sees your eyes glaze over like a dumb whore, your cunt spasming around his digits, close to cumming.

He begins to speed up again, and he knows it hurts a bit for you. He couldn't bring himself to care, your pussy is his. He will do whatever he wants. But as he feels the vibration of your desperate whine on his hand. He pressed wet kisses along your jaw, whispering apologies.

“Cum on my fingers, dove,” he whispered, his fingers hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his hips rutting into the side of your body. He was close to snapping himself, for you he was willing to cum in his pants like a stupid boy.

His thumbs find your clit again, now he gets even more feral. The pleasure borderlines to pain, and you drool, your chin covered in saliva which he licks up without shame. “It's fine,” he coos, “Cum, baby.”

He rubbed at your g-spot, his thumb flicking your clit. The coil in your stomach unwraps itself, ecstasy filling your veins as your cunt spasms around his digits. You cum from his fingers, your mind blank. Your eyes rolled back.

He groans, feeling his cock twitch and cums in his pants. It was surprisingly the best orgasm he ever had. He couldn't believe he came untouched. He couldn't find himself to be embarrassed about it, not when he has to pick up your pieces.

“You here with me?” He asked softly, gazing into your glossy eyes. You nod back, weak. He guides you to his bed. “Let me clean you up,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

He quickly changed into his pajamas, cleaning his hand clean of your blood. He takes a wet towel and cleans up the bloody mess smearing your thighs. You let out a whine when the towel touches your pussy. You were sensitive after your orgasm. He shushed you, “It's fine, doll.”

And he cleans you up before he helps you wear your panties. He doesn't make you wear the jeans as he doesn't want you to have any sensory overload right now. He goes to the kitchen and brings you a glass of water. He helps you drink the full glass, encouraging you softly.

He even puts a towel under you, in case you bleed through your pad. He feels the tiredness weighing him down and he lays down in bed beside you. The games will be there tomorrow. But he will only have this night with you once.

“You're everything, Coryo,” he hears you whisper, your throat hoarse even after drinking water.

You're his everything too.

NEXT PART

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bloodykora · 3 months

Text

Just a Little Gift

Sol brain rot so bad he's gonna need to pay rent soon.

Summary: Sol gets home to realize he's the one who has been left a gift.

MDNI This is an 18+ game therefore you should not be interacting with it's content or fandom.

Warning: Nothing too severe considering the game contents however stalking and yandere behaviours.

No use of y/n, no description actually of reader at all tbh. I write gender neutral (for the most part) so I hope yall enjoy.

He cracked open the door, ready to just crawl into bed. Dealing with the invasive thoughts of you and Crowe in his mind all day. Conjuring ways to get rid of this problem that had taken the form of a whole human. Reciting one of many ways to get rid of the remains, his eyes following the door shut. Sol’s body finally turns to his bedroom, his gaze widening as he sees the green frog plushie laid so gently atop his comforter.

It wasn’t a surprise that he had plushies on his bed, it was the fact that he knew he didn’t have the one that was tucked in cuddling with the rest. Someone else had put it there. His bag drops to the ground, walking up to it and lifting it. Peering and checking over to make sure there had been no tampering such as a camera or mic device implanted in the cute stuffie.

He then walks to his window, the screen somehow still in its usual place. Either this person used the front door or was very talented in their ways. His thoughts begin to scramble, wondering who the hell it could be and if he needed to leave the premises. He didn’t think too long before his phone had dinged in his pocket.

You lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone as the message notification pops up. A smile immediately spreads across your face as you curl in more. Your fingers tap fastly now at the screen, wanting more of his words and thoughts. This had been a behaviour you both had been doing, texting the moment you were able to. Until one of you decided to go to bed.

‘Hey, did you make it home okay?’ Appears as he turns on the screen, the nickname he had made for your contact now staring at him. The familiar pounding fills his chest as he completely forgets the whole breaking in situation. Now so happy you had wanted to see if he was okay.

‘Yes, did you?’ It’s simple and to the point but he knows he has to remain calm. Not wanting to scare you away.

You hum to yourself in a joyful tone, reading over his words carefully. Prying apart every sound in your brain as you grip a similar pink frog in your arm.

Sol would just have to wait to find out.

These frogs inspired me.

#solivan brugmansia #the kid at the back #the kid at the back vn #sol x reader #solivan brugmansia x reader

161 notes · View notes

rottenpumpkin13 · 3 months

Note

Let’s reverse the question, AGSZC get stuck in a timeloop COLLECTIVELY, what’s the first thing they do?

The Nibelheim Time Loop (from hell)

Nibelheim Loop #1

Cloud: Man, I had the weirdest dream last night.

Zack: One where Sephiroth burns your village down?

Cloud: That's so creepy! How did you know?

Zack: I had the exact same dream.

*Sephiroth walks up to them*

Zack: Sephiroth, did you have any weird dreams last night?

Sephiroth: I had a dream where I turned into an infant kangaroo and was taken from my mother at birth, deprived of the comfort of her pouch, and forced to work for Shinra. Years later I discovered my mother was complicit in denying me the pouch. Seeking solace, I found an artificial pouch from a robotic alien kangaroo mother. I then rode contentedly in her pouch as she burned everything around us to keep me warm.

Zack: A simple yes would've sufficed.

Nibelheim Loop #5

Zack: You're living the same day over and over too, right? I'm not going crazy?

Sephiroth: Actually, I just noticed that we're in a time loop this morning.

Zack: You burned down Nibelheim four times.

Sephiroth, gaslighting him: What a touching story.

Zack: !?

Nibelheim Loop #8

*Nibelheim is burning*

Cloud: WHY!? WHY?? WHAT EVEN IS THE POINT ANYMORE!? WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS?

Sephiroth, roasting marshmallows: Professor Hojo never let me roast marshmallows when I was a child. He claimed the sugar would provide excess dopamine, tricking my brain into thinking I could be happy and want more out of life.

Cloud: Shit man I had no idea

Nibelheim Loop #12

*Zack, Cloud and Genesis are holding Sephiroth down to keep him from entering the library*

Zack: QUIT IT! YOU ALREADY KNOW THE TRUTH!

Sephiroth: I YEARN.

Zack: FOR WHAT!?

Sephiroth: I YEARN.

Nibelheim Loop #16

*After tying Sephiroth up and sedating him*

Zack: There! Now he can't escape, and Jenova can't do mind control on him! Problem solved! No more Jenova cell people running around.

Zack:

Zack: *smells smoke*

Zack: That apple bastard.

Nibelheim Loop #23

Cloud: You know what!? This is a time loop! There are no consequences! I can go up to Sephiroth and kill him right now! Fuck it!

*Sephiroth walks up to him, Cloud punches his chest (nothing happens)*

Sephiroth: …..

*Cloud punches him again. He doesn't move*

Sephiroth: …..

*Cloud tries again. It's like punching a brick wall*

Sephiroth: Please stop fondling my chest.

Cloud: Oh my god.

Nibelheim Loop #36

Sephiroth: Am I….a human being?

Sephiroth: ….

*Sephiroth turns around*

Sephiroth: Where's Genesis?

Zack: He's not here, but he left this note. Here, let me read it—"Dear Sephiroth, I grew tired of flying from Banora to Nibelheim 35 times only to be met with disappointment, so I'm spending this loop in Costa Del Sol. Best Wishes, your friend, Genesis Rhapsodos."

Sephiroth: Wow. And he didn't even insult me this time.

Zack: "P.S.: No such luck kitty-boy you're a monster and yer mum's an alien. Get rekt."

Sephiroth:

Nibelheim Loop #???

*At the library*

Zack: Sephiroth! Stop!

Sephiroth: Each time I return here, my mind becomes clearer, more adept at absorbing information. This only fuels my bitterness and resentment, rather than allowing me to grow accustomed to it. I think this time I'll burn—

*Vincent appears and knocks him out with a pipe*

Zack: Woah! You got sick of the time loop too?

Vincent: What time loop?

Zack:

*The next day, after the time loop is broken*

Vincent: I'm glad I could be of assistance.

Cloud: Who would've thought that would end the time loop.

Vincent: Yes. It appears all Sephiroth needed was paternal discipline.

Cloud, gasping: You mean....? You're...?

Vincent: Yes. I'm Sephiroth's parent—

Cloud: !!

Vincent: —tal figure since I was in love with his real mother and his father is Professor Hojo, a role I've assigned myself purely due to the fact that I see myself as his primary caregiver during trying times, which is how an adequate father should act.

Cloud:

Vincent: Not that I would know.

#Kangoroth #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 #angeal hewley #zack fair #crisis core #cloud strife

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sunnymoonxx · 3 months

Note

He knew she was a different Jedi, she was better than him, he couldn't read her mind , or could even tell what she thinks, but she could feel everything he felt . She understood him. Lot sexual tension

❝self destructive tendencies❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

● this is a 2nd pov, if you want to read 3rd pov, here●

summary: A week has passed since the battle on Khofar and the startling reveal of your former friend. Qimir, the man behind the mask and the murderer of your comrades took you to a remote island, far away from the Republic's surveillance, after you sustained severe injuries. You've been keeping your distance from him, trying to ignore your hidden feelings. Yet, when his thoughts merge with yours, the vow you made to yourself becomes almost impossible to keep.

warnings: english is not my first language, sexual tension, corruption, sexual themes/dreams, E Y E C O N T A C T, qimir, mentions of blood and injuries

author's note: I could not be a jedi I'd turn into aquaman if he asked me to join him

now playing, love in the sky by the weeknd

*:..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡ ︎

The moon hung low over the horizon, casting an eerie glow on the waves that lapped against the shores of the ghostly island. Qimir’s silhouette stood out against the backdrop of the night sky, his presence a constant reminder of the blood and carnage he left on Khofar. As you laid on the rough sand, the pain from your injuries pulsed faintly, you could not shake the mixture of fear and thirst that his proximity stirred within you. The island was a planet unknown to you and as much as you tried to examine the surface, its location remained elusive to you. You supposed it might have been somewhere in the Outer Rim or beyond. Somewhere where the Republic would have a difficult way of finding you. World away from the Republic’s watchful eyes, and here, with only Qimir for company, you felt both vulnerable and strangely contented.

You decided to relax on the beach, further away from Qimir’s constant presence that melted your thoughts. However, luck wasn't on your side; minutes after settling in, he walked past you to his favorite bathing spot, smirk on his face as he acknowledged your presence. It was late at night, your legs and arms sore from the repetitive training, you put yourself through. The island offered few diversions. Waiting for Qimir’s next move or for Sol to find you wasn’t your idea of a perfect day. The injuries covering your body were difficult to ignore, and you refused to let Qimir get close enough to you to heal them. You told yourself you would rather bleed out than feel his touch on your skin. Deep down, though, you knew the real reason for keeping him at bay.

So, you lay there, absentmindedly playing with a rock you found, irritated by his presence but too weary to consider moving again. You had to admit your fault; you had set up camp right in front of his favorite spot. Over the past week, you had seen him bare many times. First unbothered but lately it has gotten under your skin. You had been friends with Qimir for some time before discovering his true identity behind the mask and his responsibility for your friends' murders. Their deaths pained you, but the betrayal and realization of his deception cut deeper. After many years you thought you found yourself a friend outside the temple. One that you could share your interests and secrets with, without the fear of being judged by the Jedi. You told him about your fears and likes. Your doubts in the order and your wish to help people as much as you could. About your hate and desire. The Sith emotions. Now he’s using them to lure you in and trap you on the other side.

You weren’t the most perceptive, but his intentions were clear. He knew your feelings, your likes, and dislikes; you had shared them with him when you believed he was your friend and a supplier. Even a blind person could see his thoughts, and your strength in the Force allowed you to delve into his mind, revealing more than you wished to know.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he slowly shed his clothes to enter the water, a routine he seemed to relish. Despite your experiences in battles and missions, witnessing the horrible conditions and lack of hygiene, even your comrades didn’t bathe as frequently as Qimir did before you. You considered yourself fortunate; at least he smelled good, even if the scent of sandalwood mixed with citrus fruit drove you mad. You smelled it when you woke up, during meals and training, and before sleep. You felt him everywhere. You weren’t sure for how much longer you could endure it.

You studied the muscles of his back as he swam slowly, admiring them from your vantage point. He was undeniably strong, scars marring his skin a testament to the pain he had endured. You observed how his dark hair moved with his motions, how he ran his long thick fingers through it while washing it gently. His biceps tensed as he splashed water around his neck, and you noticed the way he caressed his chest, attempting to cleanse away the day’s dirt.

It was only when you accidently crushed the rock in half, you realized the intensity of your stare. Clearing your throat, you sat up and leaned against the mossy bank behind you, feeling shame wash over you. You were convinced his own dreams started to corrupt you.

One of the curses of being a Jedi was the ability to read minds, and Qimir was no exception. You saw his thoughts vividly, filled with bright colors that sent adrenaline coursing through your veins. You wondered if he wanted you to delve into his mind, to make you believe he desired you, or if he simply didn’t care. You feared he could read your thoughts too, despite your lifelong ability to block out others with ease.

You lied to yourself, convincing yourself that you were immune to his ideas, desires, and magnetic charm. But every time he looked at you, towered over you, or you smelt him in the air, your knees buckled, your stomach tightened, and you fought against the need of pressing your legs together. You felt sick and his mind brushing against yours didn’t help.

You felt it every time he drew near. He visualized your hands in his mind, how they caressed his scars and shoulders. You saw his hair falling down as he towered over you, gently pushing you against the cold floor of his cave. You felt his breath against your neck, his fingers pulling your hair, his skin pressed against yours. In his dreams, you never resisted. He was corrupting you in his dreams, and you never once objected in them. You were embarrassed he got your mannerisms right

You were so lost in your shared thoughts, you didn’t notice Qimir making his way out of the water, his eyes fixated on you with dangerous intensity. He carefully leaned down to grab a towel, amusement playing on his lips. He didn’t want to wake you up from your thoughts, whatever they may have been.

As he gently dried himself with soft cloth, not taking his eyes of you, he tried to read your mind, even if he failed millions of times before. He never had difficulty reading someone, one look at them and he could see their whole past. But you, he had no idea what you were thinking or planning, or what images played in your head. You were strong, stronger that the ones he met before, and he admired that. He praised your strength in the force and your ability to protect yourself from your nemesis. Like him.

But he could read body language. He noticed how you tensed around him when he walked past you. How your chest started rising faster whenever he stared you down. Your goosebumps when you brushed against each other. How you pressed your legs together when he towered over you. And how you were now crushing the rock in your hand, gazing his direction.

“You can always join me, you know that.” He breathed out, letting the cloth fall on the ground, replacing it with his long blouse. You almost wanted to take the top from him just so you could continue your view but when you finally recollected your thoughts, you wanted to slap yourself. “It would help with your wounds when you don’t let me heal them.” He uttered, dressing himself, not breaking eye contact with you. He liked your stare. He liked how you fought with your emotions and how they reflected in your eyes. It pleased him.

“I’m okay,” you faked a smile, swallowing the ridiculous amount of saliva in your mouth. You forced yourself to look somewhere else then his strong forearms or how he dragged the pants up his muscular legs. You found a cute shell, admiring it from afar.

You didn’t catch the grin on his face as your face turned pink and you clenched your fists. He was amused with your reactions but your ripped bandage and the blood revealing itself underneath caught his full attention. His face froze, along with his movements while buttoning up his shirt. He would never touch you unless you wanted him to, but your leg was nowhere near in being healed and with the lack of medical supplies on this island, you’d lose it long before you’d be able to leave the island.

“Let me help you.” It wasn’t a question, more of a subtle order. You didn’t miss it. A week ago, on Khofar, Qimir stopped himself before fatally hurting you, but he still landed a strike on your leg, that had trouble healing. You were stubborn enough to push him away when he offered his help and now you started to slowly regret it.

“I don’t need anything from you.” You hissed at him, catching a glimpse of his unbuttoned blouse.

“You’re a powerful Jedi and I don’t doubt you’d be still as fierce as you are now without your leg.” He murmured, making his way towards you, leaving his bag and shoes near the water. “If you want to risk it.” You watched him tilt his head, as he slowly approached you. You could only see the images in his mind, his plans and ideas. But underneath it all, he didn’t mean it in a bad way. He wanted to help you. In his own way. He was your friend; he knew your weaknesses and strengths. He knew what you wanted, and he was willing to give it to you. But you couldn’t erase the lying and murder of your friends. You wanted your friend back. Maybe something else this time but your trust in him faded. Now it was just Qimir. Confusing your thoughts and making you rethink your morals. You felt as disgusted with him as you felt with yourself. But you understood him. Or at least tried to.

So, you didn’t oppose, letting him kneel in front of you, his hands carefully reaching out to your ripped bandage above your knee. He was so close you could smell him again. His hair fell into his face, covering his eyes that were focusing only on your wound. His fingers worked fast but tender as he lifted your thigh to unwrap the bandage. You swallowed hard, feeling his veiny hand below your leg. You were scared he could feel your burning skin, hoping he would mistake it as a result from the injury.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you on Khofar.” You heard him whisper, gripping the sand below you as he threw away the bandage, the cold air kissing your open wound. You almost heard pity in his voice. You were certain you imagined it.

You begged yourself to look away, but your eyes betrayed you as they glared down at his hand that was almost as big as your thigh. He covered the wound, not touching it fully, concentrating on restoring back your cells.

You were fascinated by how quickly the wound closed up, leaving only a small scar across your thigh. You wanted to learn how to force heal ever since you lost your friend to a fatal injury as a kid, but the Jedi never taught you. No matter how hard you pleaded. Whenever you asked, they answered with the same answer. Only dark side users possess this power. You always felt it was ridiculous.

“How do you do it?” you manage to ask, ignoring Qimir’s confused stare as he picked up his head and drew his hand away from you. But he didn’t move position and kept kneeling between your feet. “How do you, force heal?” you felt embarrassed asking but he was one of your only chances on how to learn.

A soft smile creeped to his lips as he moved his eyes from your face to your hands. You suddenly became aware of your vulnerable position.

You could feel the warmth radiating of of him as he sat centimeters away from you, his wet hair framing his sharp features. His eyes were dark, only the light of the moon reflecting in them. His lips were full, stretched as he shared his knowledge with you. You didn’t move a muscle and returned his stare. It was only you two.

“The Jedi teach only one way. Physical way. Taking your physical energy and give it to someone who needs it.” He whispered, leaning his head to the side, giving you a chance to admire his sharp jaw. His neck was thick, his collarbones defined. “But there is another way.” He stopped to look at you, examining your expression. You were listening sharply, breathing fast, and your eyes bore so deep in him that he was certain you could read everything he was thinking. He let you.

“Below the surface of consciousness are powerful emotions. Anger. Fear. Loss.” He started listing, his eyes twitching between your eyes and your lips. “Desire”

Your leg muscles twitched, your core burning up. You wanted to bury yourself.

“Only Sith feels those emotions.” You whispered back, denying yourself. You saw a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth before he lowered his stare.

“You can draw energy from them, direct them in any way you want.” He purred, looking back at you, letting you feel his emotions. “However, whenever you want.” He lowered his voice as he stretched the last words, reading your face.

He knew you read his mind. He knew you saw the images that kept him awake and his wishes. He had them since he met you months ago, and when he sensed your attraction toward him, they only intensified. He wanted you and was simply waiting for you to admit the same to yourself, no matter how long it would take.

#star wars #qimir the acolyte #qimir #osha x qimir #star wars qimir #qimir smut #qimir x reader #starwars fic #star wars smut #starwars #star wars the acolyte #acolyte ep6 #the acolyte #qimir fic

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diaryujin · 11 months

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 (𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐁𝐄)

summary: you were tired of waiting around for heeseung to confess. so, to rile him up, you go on a 'date' with his best friend, jake.

genre: angsty fluff

includes: roommates au, uni au (mentioned once) friends to lovers, jealousy, heeseung is whipped but won't make a move, jake is mentioned once as hee’s bsf, angst with happy ending

pairing: bsf! heeseung x bsf! fem! reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: late heeseung birthday special! isn't that angsty unlike SOMEONE (read: sol) tbh, had this in my drafts so i just rolled with it

“Where are you going?” He eyed you as you headed towards the door. Your outfit wasn’t something you usually wore. You were all dressed up, ready to go outside. “To a cafe.” “Dressed like that?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. “Any issue?”

“Well, you usually don’t go to cafes- hell, anywhere- dressed so…fancy? You’re trying to impress someone, hm?” He saw right through you. It wasn’t like you were hiding it extremely well, but it still always caught you off guard.

“Okay, maybe I am. Any issue?”

“Who is it?” “Jake.” Heeseung’s eyes widened and he crossed his arms. You were trying to impress his best friend. What did Jake have that he didn’t?

“Why? You told me before that you liked him. What’s with the sudden interest?”

“I just like him, okay?”

He looked up at the ceiling.

“Um, I just don’t know if he’s the right one for you.”

“Well, I can’t just wait around anymore. I’m going to have to search.”

“Yeah, but- I don’t think you’re his type.”

“...are you saying that negatively?”

He pushed himself off the wall and came closer to you. His eyes were soft but the tone of his voice was firm.

“Look, I’ve known him for a long time too, it just wouldn't be a good match.”

“You need to also know that life is full of surprises.”

“This would be a nasty one.”

You were getting him all riled up. The point of this whole ‘date’ was to see if Heeseung would react. You weren’t actually going out romantically with Jake, it was just a meet up. You hadn’t fallen for him as hard as you feel for Heeseung.

“Well, why are you so pressed about it? It shouldn’t bother you in any way, right? We’re just friends, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”

He had a very strong urge to just kiss you to make you shut up.

“I know, I just…wanted to tell you what I thought. I’m serious though, it’s not a good idea.”

“Didn’t ask, don’t care.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly pissed off.

“Okay then. Have fun with Jake.”

“I will.”

That hit him like a shot in the heart. He provoked you, so why was this hurting?

“Call me if you need anything or if something happens, hm?”

He held your hand for a few seconds before letting you go and smiling, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks Hee. You’re the best best friend someone could have.”

You hugged him, and he hugged you back. His grip was oddly stronger than normal, and he was clutching onto you as if he didn’t want you to leave. You ignored this and broke off the hug before waving to him as you walked out the door of your apartment, closing it.

Heeseung stood frozen there for a few seconds, before sighing and pinching his left arm.

No, this wasn’t a nightmare. He wished it was.

His vision was blurring due to the tears in his eyes, and he pursed his lips into a thin line.

Hell, here he was, crying over a girl.

That too, you.

He slumped onto the floor, burying his head in his hands.

He wanted to scream, punch something and take his anger out on something.

He did neither.

He stared blankly at the wall, hands now crossed against his chest again. He tried to think of anything, everything other than you and your date with his best friend.

He failed miserably.

After a few hours, a notification popped up on his phone while he was mindlessly watching TV. He turned it on to see that it was six messages from you. He opened it to see that it was five pictures of you and Jake, with bright smiles on both of your faces. His chest tightened, and he wanted to throw his phone against the wall. He wanted to block you. He wanted to tell you that you were breaking his heart. He wanted to tell you how he felt.

‘happy 4 u :)’

You looked at his message, cogs turning in your brain. That was…a response alright. You couldn’t understand what he felt behind it. If he was truly happy, he’d text something in a more excited manner. If he was jealous or mad or sad or just feeling negative in general, he’d text less enthusiastic. What was he like back home?

You reached your shared apartment. He unlocked the door, expression unreadable.

“Hey Seung. Nothing burned down while I was gone, right?”

You chuckled, but it was lost on him. He usually laughed along, no matter how corny the joke was.

“Check for yourself. I’m going to bed.”

“Uh, so quickly? It’s only 8 p.m.”

“We have uni tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s a Sunday.”

“I want to wake up early to study.”

“Since when were you studious? You usually stay up until like 4 a.m. playing video games with me.”

“Don’t want to this time.”

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it? What happened? You know yo-”

“No.”

He stormed off to his room. As he was about to enter, you pulled his arm, preventing him from going.

“Heeseung, you’re not acting like yourself. You usually trust me with anything.”

“You don’t really care.”

“I d-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“You don’t need to know, okay?”

He raised his voice at you, making him sound intimidating. Your grip on his arm didn’t falter though, and you were slowly pulling him closer.

“Seung-”

“No, I can’t- I can’t trust you with my feelings, because damn it Y/N, you’re the reason behind it! It’s so obvious that I’m so foolishly in love with you and yet you’re so fucking oblivious to how I feel! Do you know how- how hard it is to hear you talk about Jake like that, how hard it is to pretend to be happy- for you, when all I just want is for you to love me back?!”

He was breathing heavily after his outburst. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he gritted his teeth together in frustration. Your grip on his bicep loosened, and your hand slid down from his arm to his hand.

“Heeseung…”

His eyes shot open in fear as he realized what he just said.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m so sorry- I didn’t…didn’t mean it, mm? It was a mis-mistake, I was just joking- haha! So funny right? Very funn-”

You pulled him closer until your noses were touching. Shocked by the sudden movement, he whispered quietly, his warm breath hitting your face.

“What…Y/N, what does this mean?”

“It means I like you too, Heeseung.”

His eyes softened, and both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you so delicately.

“I’m- I can’t even explain how I feel in words like now.”

One of his hands went up to your hair, his palm on the back of your head, holding you firmly in place, yet it felt so loving. His fingers got tangled in your hair, and he started into your eyes, smiling softly. You leaned in closer, your noses brushing against each other’s.

“May I…?”

“You may.”

He moved close enough to allow your foreheads to bump. He continued gazing into your eyes, admiring them. He them slowly moved his lips to yours, closing his eyes. He kissed you gently, holding you close. His lips moved carefully against yours, as the fingers of his free hand intertwined with yours. After a few seconds, he pulled away, before wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you, sighing.

“I’m sorry for the sudden outburst, Y/N.”

“It’s okay- it helped the both of us anyway.”

He chuckled a this, and pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you.”

“For…?”

“For not choosing Jake.”

“I knew you’d be jealous!”

“I was not!”

“You were!”

“Was not!”

“Were!” “Was n-”

He felt your lips against his again, making him get flustered. After you broke the kiss, you grinned.