#sol the jedi

[shield-and-saber]

LEE JUNG-JAE, THE ACTOR THAT U ARE

THIS MAN WAS FUCKING EMOTING TO HELL AND BACK TODAY, GIVE HIM AN AWARD, GIVE HIM A MILLION AWARDS

THE WAY HIS ENTIRE FACE DISTORTED WITH GRIEF, LITERALLY SHAKING WITH THE FORCE OF IT. TO THE SUDDEN CALM AND STILLNESS OF HIS FACE WHEN HE TELLS MAE (basically) "I'M GONNA TALK AND YOU'RE GONNA LISTEN"

HIS TALENT

[sepulchralblues]

It’s remarkable how Sol keeps justifying his murder of Mother Aniseya sixteen years after it happened. He needs himself to be right, needs Osha to require saving, because it’s the only instance that allows him to walk away without a stain on his conscience.

Granted he feels guilty about murdering his padawan’s mom, but it would be so interesting to see what was going on in Sol’s head in the heat of the moment. Was it his “deep connection” to Osha that he believed was going to lead her to becoming his padawan? Did that influence his view on whether Aniseya was really a threat to Osha? Because she says it as she’s dying - she tells Sol she was going to let Osha go, and Sol can’t have that be true because if it is then what he did wasn’t in the defence of the innocent it was premeditated murder.

Sol can’t have it be true so he tells himself that it was a lie, that Osha was in danger, if not from Aniseya then from Mae, from Mother Korril, from everybody on Brendok because he needed her and believed with everything in him that she needed him too.

And for sixteen years he’s had the opportunity to recall that truth he buried so deep it never saw the light of day until they were back in Brendok. For sixteen years he’s lied to Osha and planted the seeds to destroy the potential relationship she had with the only other person who could have understood her. From her twin, her mirror, the other side of her coin.

So when Osha learns the truth, when she finds out just how much of her life has been a lie - how much of the past she was forbidden from healing from and grieving has been a lie. How the closest thing she has had to a father figure has spent every day of their relationship lying to her, she snaps.

And kills him.

[thefandomfires]

I firmly believe that in episode 8 when Qimir says to Sol:

“Thank you for leading me to her.”

“We make a great team.”

He is 100% talking about Osha.

Who was is that sent Osha into the apothecary?

Sol

Who brought Osha to Kofar?

Sol

Sol is the reason Qimir and Osha’s paths cross.

Qimir saying they make a great team is also totally him talking about him and Osha. Bro spent the entire time with her on that island trying to recruit her and you’re gonna tell me that line isn’t about her?

[oshalittlestar]

Yeah no way they can pull Qimir back scars story, Osha accepting her darkness/rejecting the light, her reaction to the helmet, her maybe training with Qimir/ their relationship evolving , Mae own reaction to Sol's story, Osha's Padawan trial-or flashback of her time with the Jedi, and a conflict resolution of Osha Qimir vs Mae and Sol while serving a satisfying final in ONE EPISODE. They just can't.

not in 1 setting, and certainly not after we just spent the fucking ENTIRE episode on Brendok..

[mlys05]

[septemberlikeastorm]

question, do we think osha heard sol tell mae that the twins are one? & she just focused on the more pressing mom murderer matter? obv qimir/the stranger was super interested in this piece of information & i can def see that rat bastard (affectionate) withholding it from her until it leads to their third act breakup, & i HATE third act breakups

[a-heart-of-kyber]

Have a meme about Qimir's absolute unreasonable hatred of this man for absolutely no personal reason 😅.

[theacolyteqna]

Hey guys, I know there’s not a lot of people following me but, I was thinking of writing an Acolyte fanfic, I never wrote a fanfic before but I was inspired to write one because of this sketch.

Is going to be one we’re osha and Sol has this kind of Thanos and Gamora relationship, we’re she was the perfect daughter that got away. The fanfic is going to be sad and angsty, qimir is still going to be the love interest but the main plot is this perfect daughter that left her whole life behind

I will be writing this based on voting which will end at the end of August 20th, 2024 and the first 5 chapters will be released on September 1st, 2024.

I don’t know how to tag people yet because I’m new to this app but, I want to give credit to the artist so here’s the link.

Basic list of stuff the story will have

Thanos and Gamora relationship

favored child trope

Siblings rivalry trope / friend rivalry

Shelter trope

Love interest

Don’t know no if it still going’s to be enemies to lovers

Academic rivals

Or childhood best friends

I’ll edit the list as, I go.

Also all the second place votes will be add to another fanfic that I’m thinking of.

I don’t know if I want to do a modern Alternate Universes or stay in the Star Wars realm but I kind also write both versions.🤷‍♀️

[angstdelights]

The Acolyte 1x02

[anthony-crowleys]

Osha killing Sol like that doesn't feel right to me because he didn't get to explain his actions to her.

And by that I mean the writers didn't want him to and just made him repeat that he did the right thing and that he wanted to do what was best for her.

He could have said the classic "It was a mistake I'm sorry forgive me!!!"

He could have said "I was wrong and acted irrationally because I was worried about your safety please forgive me."

He could have said "I didn't understand the power your mother was wielding and thought she was about to cause harm to me, my friends and you (even tho it was Mae in that scene), I'm sorry???"

Or my favorite that covers all the points "Hey kid look your mom transformed in a cloud of black smoke and also started to dematerialize your sister who I thought was you and I panicked?"

Old Sol didn't looked as delusional and misguided as young Sol up until ep. 8, and you'd think he would have learned from his mistakes, but no, 180 surprise he's actually convinced he's in the right and doesn't explain the very specific situation that led him to kill her mother on top of that.

Like they really gagged him in that scene smh

And I mean, even tho I love him and I'm sad he's dead, the point I'm making is: Osha should still kill him but at least make him try to explain.

That way, the fact that she doesn't listen and just snaps is even more powerful, because like this he really looks totally and completely in the wrong, which, I'm sorry, he isn't, and she looks kinda justified, which… Defeats the point of her going full dark side to a degree, because it's not as impactful if they are painting him as a delusional selfish idiot that doesn't understand that he has made a big mistake and just doubles down out of fucking nowhere because the hints we got were pointing more towards a repression of a general "darkness" and not an implicit and deeply rooted self-rightouness.

So, good person who fucked up big time but he's genuinely sorry and asking for forgiveness is denied that AND killed while unarmed BAM! welcome to the dark side girlie!!

Anyway, this show couldn't make up it's mind about the characterizations of it's main cast and just put them at the whims of a unfocused plot, so they decided that now he is a self-righteous broken dumbass and that he will not act like a normal person trying to make her see what happened from his perspective.

[juststoriesintheend]

II. The Lesson

Pairing: Master Sol x gn!Reader

Chapter Content: some light Jedi philosophy, lightsaber sparring, mutual pining, first kiss

Word Count: 2.7k

《 [series masterlist] 》 《 I 》

In an attempt to remain as cool, calm, and casual as possible, you’ve left your cloak in your room. You’d only have to take it off in the training room anyway, so you’re saving yourself the extra time and effort. Not that you’re overthinking things. At all. You’ve only re-layered your tunics and tabard half a dozen times, adjusted your belt twice that, and very nearly stepped out with only one boot. Whatever spell you had been under in Sol’s presence yesterday has completely worn off.

You arrive an hour earlier than you normally do, which is about fifteen minutes before Sol comes in with Jecki. If you remember right, Sol is done teaching the younglings by now and is off doing whatever it is he does in his spare hour between duties. While you’re a little deflated not seeing him right away, it’s for the best because his absence allows you focus and control. You can concentrate better on the saber, on your hands, on the slicing of air and the humming of the Force without him distracting you.

After some quick stretches, you unclip your saber and ignite it. The floor and nearby pillars reflect the light back to you, as well as a distorted image of your silhouette. A lifetime’s worth of muscle memory kicks in and your body is alive, thrumming with energy as your wrist twists, then your elbow, then your torso tilts and the saber swings in front, in back, in front again. Your wrist flicks and the saber swirls above your head, down behind your back, and finishes with a flourish at your side.

It feels like coming home.

Switching the saber from one hand to the other, you warm up your other side, copying your previous moments as precisely as possible even though it’s definitely your weaker side. This is the freedom you’ve been missing. You’ve been so fixated on Sol that it’s kept you away from the calm that saber work has always brought you – the repetition of the familiar, the Force as it flows through you, the shadows and highlights cast upon the walls as your saber arcs. Nothing could ever compare to this.

The saber flies into the air after you toss it. This is one of the fancier tricks you’ve seen some of the younger Knights and Padawans practicing, and you can already tell you won’t be able to catch this one properly, not without hurting yourself, so you jump back and flick the blade off with the Force. You fully expect it to clatter on the stone floor, and you’re hoping the fall doesn’t damage the casing or the kyber, but instead it… hovers.

It takes a millisecond to search the room for the source, and another to turn your head. Sol stands near the doorway with his arm outstretched, both eyes open and his face lightly furrowed in concentration. His attention flickers to you before refocusing on your saber, and it unexpectedly flies across the room into his open palm in the second it takes for you to catch your breath.

There’s something remarkably intimate about him holding this piece of you, something so vital to your being as a Jedi that you feel empty without it at your side. Still, if there were anyone you trusted to hold your saber, your very life, in their hands, you think it would be Sol. It just so happens that you also like to watch him hold it, whatever that means to the secret, affectionate creature that lives inside you.

“I’ve never seen you try that before,” he finally says. He starts for the center of the room, his gaze still focused on your saber as he rubs his thumb over the hilt.

You’re strangely breathless and you can’t understand why. “I was feeling adventurous. Saw some of the Padawans trying it the other day and, very foolishly, thought I should try it too.”

The corner of Sol’s mouth dimples into a crooked smile.

Wait, did he just say he’d never seen you try that before? He’s aware of the type of saber work you usually do? Heat blazes across your face at the realization, but Sol is too occupied to take notice, thank the Force. He continues to turn your saber over in his hand, though you’re not sure why. It isn’t so remarkably different from any other saber.

“Why did you think you would disappoint me?”

Your saber is returned, and you clip it back to your belt just to have something to do. “Well, I’m not a Master, for one thing. If I’m going to be sparring with you, I’d like to at least look like I know what I’m doing.”

“It certainly appeared that you did.”

You duck your head the moment he makes eye contact with you. Now that he’s finally here, your confidence wavers, and you know that your concentration will do the same the moment he begins to fight.

“What is it that makes you so unsure of yourself?” he asks with all the gentleness of a man who senses discouragement and knows it like the back of his own hand. “You are an accomplished dueler.”

If only he knew the magnitude of his question, he might choose to ask you something else. Huffing a breath out the side of your mouth, you start with a lazy, “Well, I–”

The air around you seems to vibrate, then electrify as Sol summons his own weapon into his hand and ignites it. He bears down upon you, and you know deep in your heart that he would never hurt you, but this knowledge does not override instinct. Your saber is in your hand without conscious thought, brandished and burning as his blade lands near the hilt. The junction where they touch burns white-hot, so starkly bright that it hurts to even look.

What are you doing? you mean to ask, but the words never come. You’re too enraptured by the flame of blue-white light reflected in his pupils to speak. How long have you spent watching him from afar, marveling at his skill, and now you find yourself on the receiving end of it? It feels unreal. It feels jagged and raw in the same way a cold wind off the sea does, exhilarating in some forbidden sense.

He retreats and you stumble back a step as your lightsaber comes to hang by your leg, still ignited but out of the way. It’s not proper form, but you’re too dazed to care. Sol spots this and advances again, giving you only the slightest margin for error as your blade comes screaming back into position to block him once, twice, three times before he backs up again.

“You react with instinct.” He begins to circle you with his blade extended toward your face. “Good.”

You feel a flash of irritation in your chest at this. While you’re certain (at least, you hope) he means well, this feels more like a Master testing his Padawan than a fellow Jedi electing to spar with you. You are not Sol’s Padawan and you’ve already fought to make your mark as a Knight, you don’t like feeling like a child again and certainly not at his hands. That’s not the kind of feeling you want from him.

“I don’t need a lesson,” you say as politely as you can, which isn’t very much at all currently.

Sol’s head tilts slightly in the way it always does when he’s considering something. “Then why am I here?”

Electric blue flashes across your vision as he slashes his way forward and you parry away. He’s not even giving you time to answer, let alone think, and you know it’s on purpose. Your Master’s used this trick on you several times, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“Why am I here?” he repeats. He doesn’t even react when your blade swings past his shoulder and misses. “Why did you accept my offer?”

You swing again, agitated, and miss a second time, only to be pushed aside by an invisible hand so strong that it nearly knocks your breath from you.

“Because!”

Now that there’s some distance between you, you have a moment to think, to assess yourself, the questions he’s asking, and the answers you want to give. Sol, however, chooses not to give you that time. His arm extends, fingers splayed and palm open as that same invisible hand grasps you by the tabard and pulls. His wrist twists and you come flying into his hand like your saber had mere minutes ago. Instinct and fear kicks in again, and you find yourself forced to choose between freedom with no saber and close quarters defense in the amount of time it takes to decide to breathe.

Your saber drops to the floor, the blade disappearing into itself as you summon the Force to instead push yourself away from Sol and out of his grasp. The resulting blow is strong enough to knock you both off your feet, though you have just enough forewarning to brace yourself for impact. Cold, hard stone meets shins and knees, but you’re already up and recovering your saber. Sol isn’t far behind, but he’s clearly startled. Startled enough to have dropped his saber.

You are no Jar’Kai prodigy, and indeed, it’s been years since you’ve attempted to dual wield with any amount of seriousness, but you try now. It makes sense. It feels right. Sol’s saber is heavy in your hand, heavier and wider than yours, but it doesn’t fight you when you brandish it. His kyber sings a peculiar harmony with your own, as if they were exchanging greetings, embracing each other through the Force. It tickles in the back of your brain like a shot of spotchka.

Sol’s hand meets your wrist when you bring his blade down. The leather glove creaks under the weight of your blow, but his arm remains firm. Your other arm remains frozen mid-air as it quivers with the effort of resisting his Force. He’s got you pinned and while he can’t release you without putting himself back in danger, you can no longer land a blow on him without losing any ground. It’s a stalemate in its truest form.

You’re closer to him now than you ever have been before. His breath fans out across your face as it comes and goes in quick exhalations, and you find yourself wondering if you should’ve brushed your teeth again after lunch. If you’d known he’d be so close to you now, you would have.

“Why?” he grits through his bared teeth. “Why did you accept my offer?”

Something hotter than ice burns from your shoulder down to your wrist with the effort of fighting him. “Because I can’t focus,” you gasp. You won’t be able to hold on much longer. “Keep. Making mistakes.”

He presses his advantage until your arm shudders with enough strength to completely collapse. The saber is snagged from your hand as it drops and quickly redirected to spark somewhere near the column of your neck. There’s no real threat behind it. Sol is moments away from winning this round and your body is already tired.

“Let your instinct guide you,” he instructs, and though it burns to admit it, you know he’s right. “Don’t think. Feel.”

But that’s exactly what you don’t want to do, what you can’t do. Because to feel would mean to let the sin of your affection for him seep deeper and deeper into your bones until you can no longer draw it out like poison from a wound. To feel would be the most beautiful agony imaginable. To feel would be to dream of possibilities that can never be. You would rather not feel it at all, than to feel it and lose it in the end.

You shake your head. “I can’t.”

Sol frowns. He looks so beautiful bathed in the light of his kyber. “What are you afraid of?”

The blue saber deactivates, then your own, and the training room returns to normal, but your wrist remains trapped in the palm of Sol’s glove. He’s close enough now that the voluminous lower half of his robes fall around your knees, brushing your ankles as he adjusts his stance and leans further into you. Is this not everything you ever wanted?

“Tell me.”

And it’s the gentleness of this prompt that finally cleaves through your heart. You are, quite honestly, tired. Your heart and mind are exhausted from the burden of your guilt, from the knowledge that you are already so attached to a man you hardly know. You want to fight his inquisition, but more than that, you want to give in if only to find relief from the torment of not knowing.

With closed eyes and a trembling voice, you finally relinquish your secret. “Rejection. Abandonment.” Half-concocted visions of a future without the Jedi, without the Order or your Master or the life you’ve worked so hard to build, materialize behind your lids. All this because you tend to fall in love a little too fast? How is that fair? “Myself. I’m afraid of myself and what I could do to destroy my own life.”

Something knocks at the door to your mind. It is a familiar sensation, like the sound of boots on stone or a guiding command given between the sparking of saber blades, it burns golden-brown like the sun and the tunic on his chest, and it smells like incense from a far away planet, the incense you sometimes smell on his cloak when he passes you by. You let him in.

You think, at first, that sharing your mind with someone is a bit like a kiss. A gentle nudging of one mind against the other until both become one, pressing thoughts and feelings and vague ideas together like a mouth or tongue might go against your own. You think that it feels like the kind of intimacy you’ve always yearned for but feared you would never know. Then you realize that Sol is actually kissing you.

Shock ripples through you fast and hard enough to make your stomach simultaneously drop to the floor and catch in your throat. You can’t breathe, you can’t move, there’s only Sol and his lips and the blazing freedom of peace cutting through the noise that usually clouds your thoughts.

He withdraws far too soon, and it leaves your mouth tingling and bruised. Your eyes flutter open and are unsurprisingly met with the umber-blackened hue of his pupils. So close. So real. His chest heaves with the effort of… what, exactly? Does he suffer from the same strange side effect as you, the unimaginable urge to kiss him again and delve even deeper? Is he fighting to restrain himself as much as you are?

“I feel it, too,” he whispers, and his eyes drop to your tongue as it darts across the seam of your mouth.

“What?” You don’t even dare to dream, but what if…?

Sol swallows heavily. “The pull. You feel it like I do?”

The hand not grasping his lightsaber drops lazily against his sternum as you both shuffle awkwardly into more normal, non-battle stances. “I do,” you reply. “I have. For a long time.”

There is a soft rustling of fabric and breath as Sol takes a moment to clip your saber back to your belt – the feel of his fingers, even through his gloves, lingering on your belt will stick with you forever – and to gently pry his from your hand. Then he reaches for your shoulder and lays his hand there, his thumb rubbing a semi-circle into your collarbone.

“Is this what you were afraid of? That I would not return your feelings?”

The ease with which he sees through your carefully constructed walls before completely blowing them to pieces is startling. Not even your Master is quite this forward with you. It’s different, to be sure, yet oddly refreshing.

“Among other things,” is your bashful response, half murmured to the space above his shoulder.

“We must have the courage to say what we want, even if we are afraid.” His hand resettles upon your cheek and your breath rushes out of you in an instant. All you can think is Sol Sol Sol Sol Sol, the only prayer you’ll ever need. “Are you afraid now?”

“No.”

“Then… I would like to kiss you again.”

When he smiles, you feel it curling up around your heart, a string that ties you to him, first knotted when he summoned your saber into his hand and now finished with a kiss.

taglist: @wolffegirlsunite

[shield-and-saber]

no one's saying it, so i have to

SOL WAS SEXY THIS EPISODE. HE WAS IN DISTRESS (sad), AND THEN HE WAS ANGRY (hot), AND THEN HE WAS MYSTERIOUS (lurking in the shadows, switching from the kind and gentle demeanor to stern and serious and with that lower pitched voice)

[sepulchralblues]

Mae tells Sol about how desires can cloud your judgement and ep6 is such a visual reminder of that for Sol.

After Khofar, Sol is so busy drowning in his own guilt and the latent emotions of what happened in Brendok all those years ago that it takes him so long to see through Mae-disguised-as-Osha. It’s such a piercing difference from the whole ‘Jedi need to remain distant from emotional attachments’ that it really shows you why.

Sol needs Osha to be safe, he needs the one good thing that came out of Brendok sixteen years ago to remain with him, to show him that he didn’t truly fail, that even if he presents himself before the Hugh Council with the truth there is still salvation for him in the form of Osha.

But then Osha isn’t Osha anymore, she’s Mae and suddenly Sol can’t find that salvation anymore.

Gonna need another post to contrast this to how Qimir was instantly able to recognise Osha while unconscious because he doesn’t look for what he wants he simply sees what already is

[thefandomfires]

Hey my fellow Acolyte fans, one of my mutuals on Twitter brought this to my attention.

If you go to Disney plus > help > search share feedback this will pop up! Have fun everybody!

[oshalittlestar]

Suddenly his reaction is much more understandable when you take into account he probably knows what happened on Brendok.

he's probably put off by the fact she's still so protective of her old master, so attached emotionally to Sol, even though he literally killed her mom, his acts and obsession with Osha played a great part in destroying the coven/ the Witches and did not save her sister. No wonder Qimir was weird out.

[rey-jake-therapist]

Guys I've juste realized that when the Stranger asked Sol if he recognized him, and Sol replied that he sensed "something familiar", neither of them were referring to the Stranger's Qimir character...

Sol definitely knew the Stranger when he was Vernestra's padawan! But just like everyone, he thought that Vernestra's padawan was dead. That's why he could not put a name on the familiar sensation he had, or even on Qimir's face. In his mind, it was impossible, and the Stranger looked probably different when he left the Order.

I hope we'll be told in season 2 how the Stranger learnt about what Sol did. For him, Sol hid who he was to his pupil (Osha) just as much as he did, when he chose not to tell her the truth about her mother's death. I wouldn't be surprised if he was still in the Order when this whole thing happened, but Vernestra had no idea so maybe he heard about it from another source... Plagueis?