#plasma has powerful plasma manipulation

[rae-gar-targaryen]

darling, how could i fear any hurricane? [qimir/the stranger x force sensitive!reader]

Summary: Neither the backwater planet you’d chosen for yourself, nor the sanctity of your own mind, is safe from the nightly visitations of your dream stranger. Is he real, or just another trick of the mind? And what of the power he promises? Desire, he’d spoken of. Desire, desire, desire…

Pairing: Qimir/The Stranger x Force-Sensitive!reader [my reader is written ambiguously, but as with all of my reader inserts are written with a Latina!reader in mind]

Warnings: 18+ please – fingering, dry humping, the brief mention of choking, Qimir being a seductive motherfucker, relatively minor smut, all things considered. The briefest descriptions of violence; reader has female anatomy.

Word Count: 5.7k of sinful soliloquy and definitely no manipulation. No, you want this power, don’t you??

A/N: Breaking my writing drought with this. I don’t know if it’s any good, and no one asked for it. But I’m glad to be sharing my writing again. Please be gentle!! Also, if you’ve ever read my Mandalorian x princess!reader fic, there’s an easter egg in here for you!

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The verdant planet of Vorduun was known for very little – A small, outer-world, far from the shiny Core planets that boast chrome, progress, and bureaucracy. Lush plantlife, a fertile place with brimming riverbanks, and jungles teeming and thrumming to life with flora and fauna at the turn of the seasons. Off the edge of the map. Off the edge of the world. A perfect place to hide.

To lose yourself. 

And the night is stifling, to say the least. Of all the Vorduunian summers you’d endured in your self-isolation, this one had to be the worst. The months’ long deluge of spring rains had made for a stiflingly humid summer, the green jungle steaming with sticky heat. If a saving grace was to be found in the swelter, it was that the night skies were unlike everything you’d ever beheld – a far cry from the fluorescent pollution endemic of your years on Courscant. 

Tonight's Vorduunian sky is no exception – a clear expanse of rich velvet, stars like diamonds crushed into the smooth folds of the expansive sky. Twinkling and winking richly down at you through the gaping slats of the shack you now called home. 

You twist, a serpent in your own threadbare bedsheets, attempting to find comfort in the sticky summer heat of the planet, chasing the elusive promise of coolness as you flip your pillow to the other side with a huff. 

Kind of a sick game, if you thought about it. That if you weren’t running from something, you were chasing something else. 

At present? Chasing a good night’s rest. Preferably dreamless, if you were honest. Your dreams of late are plagued with all sorts of incomprehensible flashes, feelings of being watched, feverish and hazy. Your subconscious’s foreboding certainty that if you’d only just turn around, you’d be met with a face that was not your own -– the disquieting sense of something, or someone, lurking just around a corner. Sprinting down echoing hallways with promises, greatness, a warrior's oath, all just out of reach, certain that if you’d slowed your pace, whatever was pursuing you might just snatch you, an unseen stranger.

Other nights, the dreams were different – the unflinching and unchanging grin set in a mask of metalloid teeth, baring themselves at you . Of ever-watchful eyes judging, as you forced yourself through training drills. The disapproving shake of your Master’s head, his disappointment palpable and always, always directed at only you . The seizing terror of being dropped into combat with no saber – of being skewered through by an unseen shadow with a red plasma blade. Of walls closing in on you. Of the Knights whom you had once considered your friends turning their backs on you while you fought tooth and nail. Of your lungs filled with your unreleased screams – of terror or frustration, you weren’t sure – pulling you down beneath the surface of your failure until you drowned in the disappointment of others’ unfulfilled expectations. Of hands on an unseen body tinkering with phials of something, producing poisonous concoctions of sickly green that the unseen stranger dripped down your throat, pouring them past your lips with sure, warm fingers pressing on your tongue. You swore you could feel the poison upon your waking, the phantom feeling of liquid shredding your veins with horrific heat, your heart thundering. 

Other nights the dreams were different yet, still. Of shadows shedding their inky cloak to reveal hands that caressed. Of hands that held you and wiped your tears. Of thorns falling from vines – leaving what once had pricked and scratched you to now soothe with velvety softness as the vines wound their way around your wrists, tugging you into an unseen embrace with whispers of promises humming in your ears like the tufty wings of insects. And you would go willingly. Of the warm breath of another in your ear, their body warm behind you, distinct in its softness from that of the sunwarmed cliffs the two of you would watch the sunset from, just you and your unseen stranger. Of those same metalloid teeth melting into a radiant smile of brilliant white, beheld in a sharp jaw – the critique of disapproving masters replaced by his balmy, sublime approval. 

Of the tease and taste of his cinnamon lips brushing your own, the fluttering fan of lashes along the peaks of your cheekbones. Of warm, wan whispers of want , desire , soothing your ears. Of warm, fine-boned, assured hands atop your own, guiding yours in a sensuous glide along your own skin. Promises of m ore, more, more as silken lips slipped their way along the column of your throat – your hitching gasps met with his rumbling hums of satisfaction that lasted in your ears for the duration of the following day. Of the gentle lapping of water over smooth-rocked shores, a hand grasping yours with a promise of power. Yet again of more, more, more, if you’d just … Well, you weren’t sure. 

What you were sure of was that it had been weeks of these dreams. Your exhaustion was tugging at the corners of your reality, manifesting itself into silly mistakes – a slipped knife while cutting your meals, or the prickling feeling of someone watching from the dark corner of your room. At times, you weren’t sure what was real and what was dreamscape. A slow descent into madness, torment that felt justified, somehow –-

This purgatory was clearly your penance for your failure. To atone for the fact that you could never be more than what you are now – a former padawan cast out of a renowned Order, thanks in part to her own passions and propensities, roiling rages, and lilting lust. A warrior stripped of all pomp and credential. A blistering reminder of something never to be, of someone you could never be. 

And so here you were. Piteous and exiled in the jungles of Vorduun with no one other than your occasional unseen dream stranger for company. And what of tonight? Had you slept? Were you asleep? The hazy jungle heat made it impossible to tell. When your days consist of the same, tedious routine maintenance to your little corner of jungle, purely isolated, save for irregular treks to the nearest settlement to barter … And when you tossed and turned your nights away in fitful fugue states of half-awake melded with oppressive dreams – well, who was to say what was really real?  

The ghost of a touch along your exposed shoulder didn’t merit a response … Until it happened again. Causing you to sit bolt upright in bed, eyes tracking the room for any disturbance – seen or unseen. 

That prickle, so like static rippling across your skin couldn’t be the Force. No, no. It was the trickle of sweat down the back of your neck, and nothing else. What reason would you have to feel the Force here, now? 

Just another heated night, just another heated dream….

And now, were your eyes deceiving you, or were the shadows in the corner of your room were moving, swirling into shape as a well-toned arm emerges from the darkness, raised in a gesture of … peace? And the rest of him follows, stepping into the muted illumination from your single gaslamp that sputters in the corner of your room, casting his shadow along the opposite wall, sinuous and slinking as he slowly approaches. 

You spring from your bed, eyes darting to the loose slat in your floor where you housed your ill-used saber, quickly considering the relative size of your room and how many steps it would take him to reach you, arms outstretched, to snuff the life from you before you could call the blade to your hand . 

His eyes track yours, clocking the floorboard, before placing both hands up in front of him now, a plea – 

“You don’t need that,” he murmurs, taking a tentative step toward you. And whether it was the room that shrank around you both, or that was just his presence in your space – so unused to anyone but you – you weren’t sure.

“Need what?” Play dumb, and he won't have any reason to harm you, leaving you an opportunity to strike. Your favorite trick, a minor deception for a tactical advantage.

He steps into the dim, flickering light of the gas lamp, a mild smirk blooming along his full lips, the lamplight warming his skin.

“Your Jedi weapon.”

You glance once more between the loose floorboard and the man slowly approaching you, cocking your head as his features became revealed to you, your mind tickling with recognition as you noted the sharp angle of his jaw and the baleful, syrupy darkness of his eyes –

“You,” you breathe. “I know your face.”

“Do you?” His eyes meet yours, searching. 

Yes. You had a good memory for faces, and his you had seen a few times before. Your trips to the nearest settlement every tenday for the open-air market to barter what you had cultivated from the land around your ramshackle home for fruit, thread, and other goods you didn’t often come by on your own. You had seen him at a stall selling tinctures and other apothecary-type goods. You’d never approached, of course. Hadn’t had a need for burn creams or toxins. But there was no denying the swooping lock of hair that would curtain over his eyes, the sharp angle of his features. The way his eyes would track the movement of the market, hawkish, despite the seeming ineffectual haze in them…

A minor deception, you now realize. But for what tactical advantage?

“The chemist from the bazaar,” you reply.

His lips quirk at your realization – the bud of the smirk now unfurling into a full smile. 

“You’re more observant than I gave you credit for, warrior,” he stands before you now, hands still lightly held up in a gesture of peace. “That’s good… A nice surprise ,” his voice taking on an almost-purr of satisfaction.   

You pause, lips parting lightly. What could he mean by that? 

“Qimir,” he gestures to himself by way of introduction.

Qimir. Likely not his real name. Still, you ponder, an interesting choice. Qimir. Like Chimaera, something ancient and unknowable. A monstrous creature signifying the parable of illusion – the promise of something only too impossible to achieve. You wonder if he knew what his “name” sounded like when he’d picked it.

And you hope your face hasn’t betrayed your whirring thoughts as you continue your assessment, hoping to keep a sweep of neutrality across your features as you address him again.

“If you say so. Business must be slow if you’re here to rob me, poisoner. I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed,” your eyes flit around the relatively bare bedroom, gesturing with your chin to the equally Spartan main room of your little ramshackle cabin. “Not much here of value.” 

He crosses one foot over the other as he takes a step to orbit you, almost swordsmanlike. As though he were preparing to duel. You mirror his step, your back to your bed now, facing your doorway. His body between yours and your exit. 

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” he brings a finger to his chin as if in ponderment. “You’re here, after all. And why would I give you my name, show you my face, if I intended to rob you?” 

“Why you do anything means nothing to me,” you bite, “and you’ll have to forgive my manners if I don’t feel like giving you my name. Leave, now , while I let you leave, Qimir.” 

His eyes sweep your form, note your weight on the balls of your feet, bracing for a fight. You probably have weapons other than your laser sword stashed away, if he had to guess . He takes a tentative step toward you, a low chuckle escaping him at the fire in your eyes, trying not to smile any wider than he has already, to give away his pleased impression of your fury. 

“I know who you are,” you blink at his statement, trying not to let the surprise show on your face. “You don't have anything to fear from me, little Jedi.”

“I am no Jedi,” you snipped, rolling your eyes at the insolence of the man before you. If he cared at all about your rude display, Qimir said nothing.

“I am more than aware of that, too,” he murmured, his voice like silk in your ears as he takes yet another small step toward you, invading your space, close enough to breathe your air, a hair’s breadth from touch.  

Too close. You flex your fingers, calling your lightsaber from its hiding place under your loose floorboard into the palm of your hand in a flash, the cool metal meeting your palm like an old friend, a sense of relief. You surge forward into Qimir’s space, pressing the hilt of the saber into his abdomen.

“If you know so much, then you also know you shouldn’t have come,” you snarl. “I don’t know if you didn't take the hint, here at the edge of the world, but I don't take kindly to uninvited guests.”  

“You did invite me, little viper,” he insists, his voice never losing its even, dulcet quality.

At your furrowed brow, he gently brings his fingertips to brush the bare skin of your wrist that’s pressing the hilt of your lightsaber into his stomach. A familiar, prickling ripple bursts across your skin, causing goosebumps to stipple your arms. So familiar. So like the feel of lips from your unseen stranger. So like the Force. 

The dark eyes that met yours in the low light of your room were familiar for more than just an observation in passing at the market. 

“Y-you,” you gasp, the realization causing your chest to seize, to clench your teeth in the wave of seething anger. “You’ve been … in my head … for months …” 

He cocks his head at you, watching the emotions process along your face. He had seen your fears and failures, your heart’s greatest desires. He had seen it all …

“The quickest way to your heart,” he reasons. “Through your head. So you’ll have to forgive my intrusion. I wanted to know you.” Sweet words meant to soothe.  

You aren’t sure if that makes it any better. Perhaps the reasoning makes it worse.

“So like a poisoner,” you level his gaze with a steely one of your own. “To try to slip through the cracks unseen. But I know the quickest way to your heart.”

“You do?” He seems surprised at your rejoinder. As if he hadn’t expected you to play. To be so quick of wit as you were of reflex.

“Between your fourth and fifth rib,” you hum, your voice taking on an almost-seductive tone – a contradiction to the reminder of you pressing the hilt of the saber into him, precisely where you mean to. 

“I appreciate a good threat. Clever,” he smiles, placating. “But there’s no need for that, little warrior. After all… I wouldn't leave you to the dark, not like they did,” he assures, brushing his fingertips against the bare skin of your wrist, so lightly you would’ve thought you’d imagined it. Using the contact to connect to you through the Force once more – your shared memories dancing behind one another’s eyes. Of your fellow Padawans succeeding while your Master only saw failure. Of the dazzlingly white smile of your classmate with the bronze skin and twists in his hair, his yellow lightsaber flashing as you drilled together, his smile fading to frown with the rest of his features as you had used the Force to push him away a bit too hard – rage bubbling to the surface – in direct violation of your training ordinances. Of your departure from Coruscant, no one to bid you goodbye, not even your training partner who had once called himself your friend.

You make to turn your head, to break contact with his dark, glimmering, all-seeing eyes. Like tar pits, drawing you ever deeper. His other hand catches your chin between thumb and forefinger, drawing you back to his gaze, an orbit you cannot escape. Would you even want to?

“And do you believe you would have belonged? The Jedi are deceivers. They deal in abandonment … cloaked in empty platitudes,” he trails his index finger along the curve of your  jawline, an almost illusory brush of his skin against yours – the whisper of a touch, as though to illustrate the point. “The wisp of a  promise, like spun sugar. Sweet, but false, their promises of righteousness. Of importance.”

Your lips part, catching the barest bit of his thumb as it does so, your eyes now searching his, seeking motive.

“And what do you offer instead? That's what this is, right? An offer?”

He smiles wider now, nodding in the barest acknowledgment. As though you’ve finally asked the right question.

“I … make the intangible tangible.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning …” his hand leaves the curve of your jaw to touch his fingertips to your temple, pressing, rendering a vision to your mind. And what Force magic was this? To make you see beyond your own eye’s sight. Foresight? An illusion? A vision? A memory? A promise or a deception?

Whatever it is, you see it so clearly – an uninhabited plant roaring with ocean as far as your eyeline can perceive. Waves lapping gently along grey-stoned shores. Moss-covered alcoves where you sit with him, your stranger, the sunset warming your skin as he caresses your face, your hair, whispering praises just beyond your mind’s own comprehension into your ear – the tone sinful, syrupy. His arms securing you in the night as you rest, no more dreams of abandonment. 

Warmth, endless warmth… as his lips trail the shell of your ear, down your neck, bestowing belief of besotted brushes of lips. Adroit affection aimed right at the heart of you. 

“Hmmm … meaning …. Your feelings, your power, your talent all working, to manifest toward something real. Something you want.” His hand leaves your temple and rests on your shoulder, taking advantage of your state of ponderment to gently guide you, ever mindful of the still-unlit lightsaber pressed to his stomach, leading away from your bed to the wall just next to the adjacent doorframe, the patient waltz of a waiting predator. He brings his hand to rest on the wall, next to your head.

“Something I want,” you reply dreamily, coming back to yourself just enough to realize what he’d said, exhaling through your nose in an indignant little huff. “In exchange for … ?”

“Tell me something,” he replies, lithely lilting around your question with one of his own, flexing his fingers where they rest on the wall. “Why are you no Jedi?” 

“I … abjured,” you admit, a bit too primly, the lightsaber now feeling like an unbearable weight in your palm at your words, the weight of choices – both your own and those of whom purported to teach you. To guide you to something greater. Was it as he said? Were their promises so meaningless? “Broke my oath,” you suck your lower lip between your teeth, pausing before daring to meet his gaze again. “I couldn’t … suppress how they wanted me to. I didn’t want to fail anymore. I was so tired of failing. So, I … abjured. I was weak.” 

Your eyes meet his once more at your admission, yours shining with unshed tears waiting to fall like stars. Shimmering promises to slip down your cheeks, unkept and unchecked. Your fingers fumbled, seemingly of their own accord, unwilling to hold the weight, the threat, of the saber against him any longer. The hilt clattered to the floor, a clanging finality to punctuate your words. And when was the last time you had been so honest, so vulnerable with another?

How … unlike you. 

“Not weak,” he cups your cheeks with both hands, fine-boned thumbs tracing the peaks of your cheeks, as though to wipe away your unshed tears. “The same as me. Power searching for its other half. An unwaning, unflickering flame.” 

Your unseen stranger, now seen, takes your hands in his, the buzz of the Force still tingling across your skin at his words, at the recognition of his power.

“You asked what I want. You want the same as me, and I the same as you. A companion . A partner. Unlike them, I won't judge you for your feelings. Won’t judge you for your power …  You want – I can feel it rippling across your skin,” he closes his eyes, cocking his head, shivering as though to illustrate the point. “... Mmm, and I want,  too. We can want together. If you'd let us.”

The flickering light of your room seemed to dim in tandem with his syrupy words, cloying and dripping like honey into golden nettle tea. The swirling honeytar of his eyes appraising you as the Force connection prickled with hazy heat between your bodies and the damnable musk of the jungle air.

You press yourself further into the wall he’d leaned you against, tilting your chin to appraise him in kind, searching for veracity in his words. Something more substantial than the “spun sugar” he’d accused the Jedi of weaving. 

As though he could sense your trepidation before it could cross your face, he placed a hand on your hip, the contact searing you through the thin fabric of your tank top.  

“They kicked you out because you feel. I'd never do that. I want you to feel … to feel power. To feel what you’re capable of. Of what it can become. Rage. Fear. Loss. Desire. Train with me, you’ll feel it all. I want you to feel it all … to feel me.”

Desire, he had spoken of. The gentle roll of his low voice over the syllables echoing perfectly in your ears. Desire, desire, desire. That desire, so  like venom snaking its way through your blood, hot and purposeful. An all-consuming burn through your blood, befitting of a poisoner as he. 

“You felt it, didn’t you? When I came in,” he iterates, somewhere south of a plea. “All. That. Power.” The hand not resting on your hip comes to cup your face once more. “I can teach you.” 

You had read somewhere once, in the Archives, about creatures on long-abandoned planets with the ability to draw their prey in through vanity. The flash of feathers. Or shiny scales. Big, baleful eyes, perhaps. Only to sink their teeth in once their intended had come too close. 

You draw in a breath, searching his pleasing face for any sign of a tell. Of the flicker of eyes that would signify deception. Of hidden fangs beneath his beautiful, full lips. Of anything that would bely his true intentions behind your Force connection. You swept your eyes across broad, defined shoulders, down toned, muscled arms exposed through his sleeveless shift. A warriors’ weapon wrapped in a pleasing package, to be sure. But … with no discernable hint of false suggestion. 

You shift your weight once more onto the balls of your feet, away from the wall and into him . Continuing your appraisal as you tilt your head, allowing the scent of his skin – the tang of sweat from the humid jungle air commingling with something sharp and clean – to wash over you. 

You invade his space now, leaning into the hand that grips your hip and the other that cradles your head, boldly brushing your lips along his with the barest hint of touch, feeling his lips smile against yours.

You whisper, your lips silken against his, “Tell me, poisoner … You seduce me with lies, is that it? You wish for me to call you Master? Forsake all else to worship at your altar?” 

You catch the flash in his eyes as the word “seduce” leaves your lips.

“I haven't lied to you,” his voice is a hum. An attempt to provide reassurance as he couples them with what he hopes is a comforting gesture. His fingers travel from your hip to trail your ribs, a partial embrace.

“Do you consider not telling the entire truth to be a lie?” 

“Have I shown you any lies? No. Just dreams. The promise of what could be. What I –,” he pauses, “– we could be. I cannot fabricate the Force, little warrior. Everything you feel tonight is you . It’s me. What more could you want? ” 

Your once-steely resolve is crumbling under the weight of his insinuation … "everything you feel tonight” –  the honey in his words sweet to your ears, you wonder fleetingly if he'd be even sweeter on your tongue. 

And he knew you, didn’t he? By his own admission, he’d seen your faults and flaws for months … your desires. And he had shown you promises, premonitions, predilections… a future of power. And if there is power in two hemispheres – one of sweltering heat, one of blistering ice. Which were you? And which was he? 

Together you would surely melt…

“No more rules, little warrior,” he sighs, “just the power of two.” He slides his lips across yours, purposeful, before capturing your lower lip between his teeth, nipping once before releasing, admiring the way your expression flickered from defiance to desire before surging forward, pressing you back into the wall as his lips capture yours.

He swallows your gasp, bringing his fingers to wrap loosely around your neck while his other hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt. 

You break from his kiss with a gasp between swollen, bitten lips. But he gives you no reprieve, his lips trailing to your neck, where he sets about pressing hot-mouthed kisses. Molten lava flooding the column of your throat, chased with the scrape of nipping teeth. Soothe and scrape. Push and pull. Give, give, give, take.  

You thread your fingers through the silken hair tucked behind his ears, tugging him from his ministrations on your neck and forcing him to meet your eyes – to see if the blaze of want you felt scorching your skin was reflected in the liquid coal, ready to ignite. 

His lips twist into a smirk at your insistent tugging; if he was at all surprised, he didn’t show it. His face the perfect picture of pleasure. 

“What would we do with it?” You inquire, “This power?” 

“Hmmm,” he pretended to ponder, suddenly scooping you, a brief lift as he crossed the short distance to your bed, seating himself with you on his lap. No concession of dominance; merely placing you precisely where he means to. To allow you to feel him beneath you. 

“What would you like to do, little warrior, hm?” His fingers flicked the thin straps of your flimsy sleep shirt, exposing your shoulders, leaning forward to trail his lips along the now-bared expanse of your shoulder, your collar bones, your neck, his eyes glancing up to watch your face as he went. “Make them pay? Take what’s yours?” 

His hands feel their way down your form, down your sides, along your hips, the skin of his palms rasping against the smooth expanse of your thighs has his fine-boned fingers make their way beneath the loose fabric of the cropped pants you sleep in, dangerously close to the precipice of your desire , urging you to move. Guiding your hips in a rhythmic glide in his lap. 

You gasp at his attentions, at the combination of his promises and the heady feel of his skin along yours, bringing your hands to grip his biceps – desperately seeking a way to anchor yourself. 

And if it’s his poison that will bring you to the edge, would you regret it? You were starting to believe you could never regret him , not at the feel of his chest pressed against yours, the toned muscle beneath your fingers. His sharp angles caressing your soft curves, replacing the lonely ache in your bones with the lovely heat of him, both his promises and his attentions.

His mouth was keyed and intentional in its work of you, with pressed kisses like flower petals blooming along the skin of your neck, followed by the scraping thorns of his teeth. Brutish and beautiful, as his fine-boned fingers crept to the inside of your thighs, rubbing along your clothed center, intensifying the ache you felt. He shifts your weight in his lap, causing your legs to spread wider, straddling him lowly as he tugs the offending fabric aside, guiding your hips into a roll over his clothed lap and his growing hardness. Manifesting his delight at the choked gasp you emitted in the form of a teasing little buck of his hips, guiding you down as he guided himself up, delighting in the sharp gasps that met his ears as he continues to sway you to his rhythm. 

“Desire isn't a sin, little warrior,” he breathes the words into your mouth, lips a hairs’ breadth apart, the better to swallow your moans. “What we feel feeds our connection to the Force, gives you strength ... If you know how. Let me show you. Touch me.” 

It was as though electricity was crackling, popping beneath your fingertips as you took his instruction and began to explore the expanse of his body, slipping your hands beneath his tunic to feel the silken heat of his firm torso, the ache within you mounting at the heady combination of the feel of his skin beneath your fingertips – so long since you’d touched another, been touched – and his hardness between the cleft of your thighs. Smoldering, low-heat burned along your skin and beneath your fingertips. Or was it his fingers that were doing the burning? It was hard to tell where he ended and you began, one arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you bodily into him, an infinite loop of power and pleasure.

As you continue to touch him, you could feel it – his connection to the force, strong, volatile, like lightning striking the ocean – crackling and formidable like the man who contained it.

And Qimir – you had long since given up trying to determine if it was, in fact, his real name – rewards you with a gift of his own, the velvet rumble of a groan of pleasure emanating from his throat at your touch. A sound of syrup and satisfaction. 

Pleased that you could garner such a reaction from a being as powerful as he, you smile, boldly meeting his lips with a kiss, opening your mouth with a gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, to taste the zip of power that he had determined in his moths of observation was just you, a torrent of citrus drizzle, bold and sweet. 

Reluctantly, he parts his lips from yours, ducking his head to tug the straps of your top down with his teeth, exposing your breasts to the heated air of the room. And if your desire at the repeated rolling of his hips beneath yours wasn’t enough to do you in, you figured this might. Bathing in the celestial feel the press his lips to your nipple, tongue swirling over the peaking flesh. Pleased at the goosebumps that erupt now in the wake of his attention. 

While he continues to tease your breasts with tongue and teeth, Qimir guides his other hand along your thighs, slipping his practiced fingers beneath your shorts, delighting in the wetness he was met with, basking  in the jolting shiver the motion elicited from you, at the friction of his fingers rubbing along the seam of you – causing you to wiggle, to roll your hips into his touch. 

And oh, as he slips his fingers inside of you, your eyes roll back, tilting your head to allow Qimir to admire the curving, elegant slope of exposed throat – prey before a predator, gasping at the pleasure he wrought. Breathless. If you thought he was teasing you before, his fingers inside of you were their own type of mocking punishment, well aware of his effect on you and the way your cunt throbs as he strokes inside of you. You could do nothing but wriggle your hips, whimpering piteously and attempting to roll your hips to follow his fingers as they work you, as this crescendo builds.

“Say you’ll be mine, warrior, and you can have it.” he promises. A new oath. One you’d never forsake. For him, you’d never turn, never abjure. Not so long as his touch made stars erupt behind your eyes, not so long as his lips dripped syrup promises down your throat.  

Kissing you once more, golden and slow, molten and revelatory as he works his fingers inside of you, your thighs parting to accommodate him. His thumb rolls repeated brushes over your clit, delighting in the starshine burst as you reached your peak, a broken little moan that sounded suspiciously like the word “master,” passing your lips in a keening sigh. 

You regard him through bleary, closing eyes and the warm, citrus haze of your orgasm as he slips his fingers from you, guiding you down to recline in your bed, stroking your hair as he does so, lulling you as a lover would. 

“Sleep, warrior,” his velvet voice meets your ears, lyrical and lilting. “I’ll be back for you.” 

And like each night before that one, his figure slips from you… as though he was never there. It wasn’t a dream, was it? It was hard to tell after months of this teasing game. After his promises built so much only to guide you to this release. 

And in the silvery light of the jungle’s dawn, you awoke with that very question on your lips, met with the sight of your saber placed gently on your little bedside table as opposed to its usual hiding spot. You wake to the sweet afterache of something between your thighs, to the scraped marks of teeth along the expanse of your neck. 

And to the promise of something – of a future of power and partnership. If only you’d be so bold as to accept it. As you eyed the saber, you recalled the prickle of his Force power along your skin, increasing with his proximity. And by the time he arrived to meet you again, you knew what your answer would be … 

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[malwaredykes]

well. here she is. miss Leigh Stasik.

trans woman. stubborn, incorrigible, eccentric. communist; she has leftist in-fighting with herself on the regular. a cannibal; she has no moral qualms about this, and its both a bit of a spiritual thing and a bit of a pragmatic thing. medic (not a doctor. no medical license). she knows for sure she had some kind of significant personality change from being shot in the head, but she doesn't remember what she was like exactly before it happened, it all became this kind of distant memory soup. shes originally from west new cali, but she grew very attached to the mojave. and has a lot of contempt for the ncr. She Will Serve Crack Before She Serves This Country. thank god the army discriminates against transsexuals etc. zero tolerance for the legion, obviously.

she firmly believes she is not nice, or kind, or compassionate, but instead her actions and her general sense of justice stem from her simply doing whats the most logical and objectively beneficial. it may be true to some extent, but she might also have a wee bit of ocd of the "i am a horrible person whos at all times like 2 seconds away from committing atrocities" variety.

shes a SCIENTIST. unofficially. she doesnt have a degree nor a chosen field of study. she makes her own hrt and other mysterious concoctions, including designer chems. which she claims she ingests injects etc not for recreational purposes, but to Enhance Her Powers And Possibilities. she reads old world books about psychology so she can manipulate people better. and makes weird contraptions and doohickeys while high. shes a HACKER of course and hacks terminals and systems for fun and just to see if she can.

her stats are out there due to implants and intense training, originally they were rather average. in-game she wears combat armor mk 2, but i see her having spruced it up like this. her main weapon is the ycs/186, the unique gauss rifle, but before that she used a modded plasma pistol. which she very much enjoyed the silly appearance of. because it was so small and with so much shit tacked on and she could just hold it in one hand like a mutated revolver like Hands up motherfucker bang bang bang lol. her melee weapon of choice is the machete gladius, but she's been training to be able to wield a thermic lance.

in my head the trajectory of her actions and the fate of the mojave that follows is different from what you can do with the game, because leigh could only go for The Secret Leftist Route Which Was Supposed To Be In The Game But We Were Robbed Of It.

boone was the first friend she made after leaving goodsprings and their relationship is particularly notable. they are Comrades, Siblings-In-Arms, Worsties (like besties but fucked up). theyve seen each other at their worst. they annoy each other on purpose. theyve had serious ideological clashes with each other and some ways in which boone perceives the world drive leigh absolutely nuts. they're ride or die for each other. theyre the kind of comfortable around each other where she'll be on the toilet and smoking a cig with the door open and talking to him, while he's naked sitting on the floor removing stitches from his leg. she's done surgery without anesthesia on him. he's projectile vomited blood on her from being poisoned by cazadores. she strongly encourages him to become a traitor to the ncr and to take part in the revolution and the formation of the new independent mojave alliance. somehow, it works on him in the end. shamefully they kinda like snuggling... boone bro come to bed man its nighty night man its beddy bye time.

shes in love with lily bowen. i havent decided yet whether she actually makes a move. but she thinks lily is sooooo dreamy. and shes right. if you dont think the enormous 203 year old blue mutant woman is dreamy thats your problem. outta her way

[yanderes-galore]

Will you be willing to write a yandere concept for geto suguru from jjk with a sorcerer reader? I can't see him with a non-sorcerer reader.

Sure. He could technically be with either, but the dynamic is WAY different.

Yandere! Suguru Geto with Sorcerer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Genocidal views, Condescending behavior, Blood, Murder, Attempted brainwashing, Kidnapping, Psychological warfare, Degrading behavior, Possessive behavior, Forced companionship/relationship.

Compared to regular humans, Geto is very polite and caring towards his fellow Sorcerers and Curse Users.

Safe to say that his obsession being a Sorcerer or Curse User is the most common obsession he'd have once he's a Curse User.

Even more so if you're someone he knew before defecting.

You don't necessarily have to believe in his cause, he could care less as long as he has you.

Geto would feel you both are the superior race compared to normal humans.

He'd probably view you as family in some way like he does his commanders.

I will say this though, Geto is really fake.

Manipulation and fake personas are something he uses to get others to trust him often.

He knows the values of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

You like to protect the weak, which is the reason he prefers Curse Users.

You have such naive views in his eyes.

He's tossed away such views years ago.

Poor you... trying to get in his way like the rest of the Sorcerers?

I imagine Geto has some respect for you but believes your allegiance is misplaced.

This may also work better if he knew you along with Gojo.

Maybe you three were friends up until the Star Plasma Vessel incident.

You no doubt sensed Geto's change in demeanor but he always hid it from you.

He cared for you in his own way, just like he did with Gojo.

But you were too oblivious to the truth in his eyes...

Don't you know the world would be better off if Curses didn't exist and people could live life without them?

If Geto told you of such a thought, you might even agree with him.

Until he started committing massacres.

To see your friend go down such a path is... tragic.

You stayed with Gojo, even if Geto tried to convince you to stop being so oblivious.

Such a rift left you on poor terms with the Curse User.

Oh, he still adores his beloved companion and friend...

He just hates that you decided to protect the monkeys rather than cull them.

It's a shame, really....

You have such potential.

Geto would probably not kill you for a couple reasons.

One, he most likely either knew you before or sees you as a possible student.

Two, he doesn't want to waste your potential.

Meaning Geto would focus on isolation and capture more than killing you.

If anything, he'd want to give you a chance at change.

You can help him break the cycle... you just need to learn how to kill non-sorcerers.

Due to how charismatic Geto is with people, he'd try and convert you by force.

Now, now, don't fight him.

Fighting him will only make things harder for yourself.

I can see Geto doing everything in his power to break you down.

I'm talking things like kidnapping, isolation, degradation, all sorts of things to mess with your head and break your resolve.

Geto may even kill non-sorcerers in front of you to show how weak they are, how you couldn't help them even if you tried just like he couldn't....

Geto would take pleasure in this, too.

If you just agreed with him, if you just listened...

You wouldn't have to go through this.

But, no, you want to be all innocent and righteous.

Fine, be that way, he'll make you see his way.

Geto would break you, making you used to all the bloodshed and whispering small words of propaganda and encouragement in your ear... then he'll make you his little puppet.

He's condescending, laughing when you shake at the blood covering your clothes and hands.

This is the real world, dear!

Why not help him remake it?

He stops being condescending and degrading when you break and listen to him.

At that point you're no longer a Sorcerer... you're a Curse User.

Part of Geto's family.

By this point he'd either treat you like a student/successor... or a lover in his cult.

He's so much nicer when he takes the fight out of you.

He plans to reform you, to bring back that fight against normal humans.

There's no need to cry... he'll comfort you once you transition over.

Sorcerer principles are so weak.

Once you drop them, Geto greets you with open arms.

If you're a student, he welcomes you as his newest successor... ready to be trained with a new mindset.

If you're someone he knew years ago, he greets his old friend with open arms.

He knew you'd eventually come to him.

You just needed some convincing.

Geto's possessive once he converts you by force.

His pet monkeys aren't allowed to touch you and you're never out of his sight.

You're important to him, which is ironic as this is the man who would shatter your mind just to keep you.

Your abilities are soon used for his motives.

Soon enough you're forced to depend on Geto.

He makes you feel like you need him with his words and manipulation.

Soon you'll forget all about being a Sorcerer.

Surely you realize Geto knows best and wants to see you improve, right?

Soon you won't even want to leave his arms ever again... trapped and lulled in by his venomous words.

[villainintern]

... is an upcoming Choicescript interactive fiction game! You can follow development updates on the dev blog here, view the forum page here, and play the demo here.

Villain Intern is currently on Chapter One: Onboarding as of 9/8/24, sitting at just over 30,000 words.

[FAQ Here, for the newer villains!]

Play as an aspiring supervillain interning at UnderHand, a legacy criminal corporation. Start from the bottom and navigate a world where everyone has it out for you, leveraging your strange superhuman abilities and your knack for manipulation. Make a name for yourself as an executive villain (with your own swanky corner office!), or turn against your higher-ups and usurp the company,…or throw away your promising career for the greater good, I guess...

Powers and Customization:

Choose from two different ability trees. Play as either a homemade cyborg with (painful looking) mechanical augmentations of your own design, or a genetically mutated freak with mysterious, bizarre abilities derived from animal genes. Choose 3 of the 9 unique abilities available for each power type, which update (or mutate) to scale as you get stronger. Climb walls, perfectly mimic any voice, rotate your head 360 degrees, talk to the AI assistant in your brain, etc etc! As a rule, you start out villainous, but whether you’re charming or sinister, sniveling or demanding, and backstabbing or frontstabbing is up to you.

______________________________________________________________

Key Characters and Relationships

Relationship progression tracks two major stats- your connection with a character, and your rivalry, which are not mutually exclusive. So you can romance your greatest nemesis, backstab your closest friend, that kind of thing. Or both at once, with the same person, even..

Fellow Interns:

👾 Peter Hyde is your cubicle neighbor, a geeky slackoff who’s fond of novelty ties. Unlike you, Peter doesn’t really want to be here, but he seems for some reason unable to quit. Laid-back, conflict avoidant, and generally easy to manipulate, he’s easy minion material for the MC- but his attitude belies a volatile, monstrous secret. Which can be a great asset or a major risk, depending on if you can maintain your control over him.

🤖 T9-670 is a seven-foot tall ex-war machine. Once a military member conscripted to UnderHand’s private security decal, its contract didn’t end when it died- the soldier’s brain was transplanted into a humanoid steel frame with a dark glass plate for a face. T9 is doing some soul searching- it’s not totally sure if it even has one left, but it would like to have a purpose beyond fixing printers and mowing down UnderHand’s enemies with its plasma gun.

🔬 Dr. Dr. Elaine Foster is an up-and-coming mad scientist, assistant to the esteemed Dr. Shrink. Don’t bring up the fact that she has two doctorates and is still an intern. She’s a genius prodigy, but otherwise has no superhuman abilities, which causes her to be overlooked by your superiors. Passionate and inscrutable, she’s obsessed with making it to the top her own way, and will remain one step ahead of you if you aren’t careful.

🧪 Reid/Reney Sullivan (gender selectable, nb included) is your nemesis, or at least they think so. They’re employed by OverSight, the subsidized hero-corporation that works in tandem with the government. An interning hero with impressive telekinetic powers, they are nonetheless as much of an amateur as you, and so you find yourself on even footing with one of the most promising superheroes in the business. Earnest and witty, they genuinely just want to help people. Eventually, they become fixated on “figuring you out”, which can lead to them getting sucked into your schemes. That, or their meddling could be your downfall. Worst of all, they might even succeed in reforming you.

There’s also 👁️ Blink, a rogue superhuman- some say vigilante, others say independent villain. Completely anonymous, they wear a unique suit of tactical gear that allows them to turn completely invisible, the first of its kind. Their ultimate goal seems to be killing The Man, but maybe not for noble reasons; they want to BE him, to step into the role of The Man themselves and take over as CEO. Quippy, chipper, and sauntering, they tend to use their powers for ridiculous, showy things like popping up behind newscasters on TV. An invisible superhuman that loves the spotlight, Blink is full of contradictions. And secrets, big ones, that pertain to you.

… plus a cast of older, more established villains and heroes- including The Man, UnderHand’s enigmatic CEO. A faceless, hollow man in an empty suit. Actually, nobody’s ever seen anything but the suit, so he might just be the suit.

______________________________________________________________

FURTHER READING: 🌃THE PINTEREST BOARD 🎧THE PLAYLIST

TAG ORGANIZATION: VI Updates - The big stuff, new demo content VI Info - The info posts, development news VI Asks - Anything coming through the inbox VI Characters - Character related info/bonus content VI Sketches - Doodles and concept art I've done

[torchtour]

Hi hello I love your Euclidian designs could you explain their anatomy

tysm!! here's some bullshit biology. if i spelled anything wrong. um. i didnt

transcription (since my colors/handwriting are whack) and elaboration below cut hehe

"cellulose microfibril bricks, colored by carotenoid pigment (xanthophyll)" they help maintain the shape of the cell/provide structural integrity to an overall squishy organism. the pigment xanthophyll is yellow (because. bill. yellow) and facilitates photosynthesis yay solar power. the nature of bill's mutation includes a full wall of this shit covering his whole body like a carapace

""brain"/ganglia" very rudimentary nervous system that's just a bundle of nerves hooked up to the eyes. important to note that the nerves are robust and mobile like electrical wires so don't mind being jostled by eye movement

"cilia assist in movement and sensing" leeetle hairs that aren't hairs at all but microtubules coated by the plasma membrane. kinda like whiskers/barbels but used for swimming

"double membrane (two phospholipid bilayers), pseudopods made of actin filaments and filled with cytoplasm" and also "pseudopods are mobile and variable (stretchy) the gripperssssssss if you wanna see some epic pseudopod action just look up amoeba hunting on youtube

"eyelids and "lashes"/teeth" the retractable sheathes that cover the eye have scutes that can flex and poke out as a sorta velcro-y set of teeth and manipulate objects

"mitochondrial pump" i'm sorry to say i didn't actually have an idea of what this organ was when i drew the first drawing don't tell anyone but i make shit up as i go along ummm but now it's the pseudo-heart organelle that generates atp (mitochondria) and circulates shit 'round the body (pump)

"2D eyes can perceive color, brightness, and a single layer/line of depth" so these basically work how the eyes work in flatland where euclideans can only see an infinitely thin plane of color and shadow

"reproductive organs and gametes" my euclideans have external fertilization where a pair (any pair works cuz they all have the same haploid gams) just mush together their gametes to make a baby love wins i didn't really think this through shhh i just cant imagine these things fucking im sorry they're too weird maybe the foreplay goes crazy idk

that's basically it uhm i labeled each shape as "cuboidal", "triangular", and "circular" and then that "circles are (superficially) bilaterally symmetrical" cuz they only got the one eye oh and the circular one is labeled as "juvenile has no compartment for reproductive organs" cuz why not ok bye

[bliss-in-the-void]

This is so meta but I can’t help but feel like the main story of Jujutsu Kaisen was Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko’s story. Think about the set-up.

You have Shoko, who has the most important cursed technique in the universe. She can bring people back from the brink of death. Her whole purpose is to heal and support other sorcerers.

You have the anomaly that is Suguru, a Curse Manipulator (one of the most powerful techniques to have) that comes from a non-sorcerer family. He was just born out of the blue with a special-grade technique?! That’s crazy.

And then you have Satoru, who was born with Limitless and the Six Eyes, a feat so rare that he shifted the entire balance of the universe.

I truly believe that they were supposed to complete that Star Plasma mission successfully—you’re telling me the Six Eyes and a Curse Manipulator wasn’t enough to protect the vessel? That’s crazy.

If you think about it, the person who shifted the balance wasn’t Satoru. It was Toji.

He couldn’t use Jujutsu and yet had a Heavenly Restriction so powerful that he was able to easily overpower the two strongest sorcerers of the modern era, resulting in literally every calamity that follows that event.

That whole thing just makes it feel like the events of JJK 0 and the main story following Yuuji are some sort of dark timeline in which the worst-case scenario plays out because of Toji successfully ruining the Star Plasma mission.

That’s why I’m afraid of the ending to this story. To me, it seems like Gege is telling the story of what happens when it all goes wrong.

[xjulixred45x]

Platonic Yandere Satoru Gojo x Demaryius! Reader

This is the Request of @nunezs-stuff hope You like it sweetie!

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: male

Warnings: PLATONIC YANDERE BEHAVIOR, CLINGYNESS, ABUSE OF POWER, MANIPULATION , UNHEALTY MINDSET, Satoru is Jelous of the children of reader, BLACKMAID, treats of violence, Mainly located in the Star Plasma Arc. Satoru is a Brat. I think is done.

okay, something basic that must be learned from Platonic Yandere Gojo IN THIS CIRCUMSTANCE is that although he was loved by his family, I would not say that he was completely genuine.

Satoru always felt entitled to MANY THINGS precisely because he was born so strong and everyone (including his family) followed that game.

Being loved like that felt like something written into his life. so to speak.

This is kind of where Geto's question comes in. Would his family have loved him so much if he had not been born with six eyes? Or did he depend on that to be so loved by people?

In general, Satoru doesn't know GENUINE AND PURE affection very well.

Satoru does not understand what NORMAL love is, so he wants it desperately as it is something he cannot obtain through "conventional" methods such as money or favors, no, it is something SELFLESS that he really does not distinguish.

IT FRUSTRATES him.

But he manages to reach adolescence without that feeling, he spends much of his greatest losses and TRAUMA alone (Riko, Touji almost killing him, Geto leaving him) and he doesn't have what others would have in that situation, there is no comforting hug or someone who tell him that everything "is going to be okay."

No. he is alone.

But that's when he knows you.

You are a sorcerer who has managed to stay quite long (not Tengen level, but you are quite good at what you do).

You have developed many powerful abilities, but at the same time you have also been able to see many things in the world that you have wanted to improve or change for the better.

Thanks to this, over the years you adopted many boys and girls around the world while you learned powerful techniques that made you unstoppable.

These children got everything from you, a roof, food, training, LOVE. They were indebted to you, so they followed your teachings.

They even brought even more children for you to take care of.

You were satisfied with your life.

but the higher-ups of the world of Jujustu felt threatened by you and your techniques.

It didn't help that your children were just as threatening and, unlike you, had no problem using more violent methods to defend themselves or your honor.

For this reason, Satoru was in charge of trying to find you and take you to the higher ups with the purpose of executing you.

Satoru from the beginning found this very unfair for you, because you weren't really hurting anyone, so he just thought of giving you a lecture not to use these skills in such a public way, for your own good.

He may even have found you through your children in the beginning.

and in a way, that's when he started to feel...strange, about you.

because your children spoke of you as a loving, friendly, but authoritative figure, someone too good to be true for Satoru.

But he thought your kids were just exaggerating how good you were.

But he realized it wasn't when he met you.

he met you when you were away from your family, and even if you knew what he was coming to do, you weren't angry or upset in the slightest.

You received it where you were staying and Satoru felt...strange again.

You treated him with too much familiarity. Satoru wanted to believe it was just because you wanted to blackmail him, but no.

You were just being yourself.

Satoru wanted to know better the context of WHY you were doing what you were doing (in case you were really dangerous) but he only got a more valid reason for wanting to protect you.

That's how it started, the seed was planted and it grew like a FUCKING oak tree.

You and Satoru were spending time together when he was supposedly "looking for you" and you wanted to meet him yourself.

You were one of the few people who looked through the image of Satoru Gojo and saw something REAL.

an injured boy

It reminded you of many of your children.

But when he referred to his "old friends" with an undertone of sadness, you could see that he had lost people he loved.

so you gave him a shoulder to cry on. a hug.

It was something so BASIC that the boy had NOT EVEN had access to it at his worst. It made you sad.

For you, it was lend a hand to a hurt child who NEEDED it. Like the times you make it before.

but for Satoru, IT WAS EVERYTHING.

WAS THIS? Was this what they were missing? Did it feel THIS GOOD? having someone who sincerely cares about you...

It was EVERYTHING he needed to obsess over you as a parental figure.

Satoru felt like he was FINALLY getting what he was missing all this time.

That's why it became worrying almost immediately. because Satoru became like a clingy teenager towards you.

You didn't think it was anything worrying at first, since the two of you had had quite an emotional moment and young people tend to be more affectionate after that.

You even saw it as something positive, that he was opening up to you.

but it escalated pretty quickly.

because eventually you had to return to your Clan, to your children.

Satoru insisted on accompanying you, and even if you say no, he will invite himself and go to where you live with your children.

warning sign number one!

NOW, even with all the time you spend together, I don't think you talked about your children for a mere matter of safety.

so when you get home with Satoru, keep looking closely, and find all these boys, children, even adults, calling you dad, wanting your affection, and seeing how you look at them with love...

it disgusts him.

not because of you...but because he feels a burning rush of jealousy.

and when your children notice it, he doesn't miss the opportunity to get angry with them.

when your children attack him believing him to be an intruder, even with how well trained they are, Satoru manages to beat EVERY SINGLE one of them.

Even those who didn't want to fight...

Even when you told him to stop...that he was hurting them...

when Satoru finished with all of them. He only left you one "option" (because you had no say in the situation now): do what he wanted and no one would get hurt. You wouldn't want YOUR NEW SON to be ANGRY with you, right?

If we go more advanced in time, Satoru at the beginning was much less manageable with his jealousy of your affection.

He would like to do "typical" parent-child activities, like go play together, go out, learn something together, help him choose some type of clothes, etc.

as if he wanted to relive his childhood and adolescence.

That is, without ANY comebakcs or anything similar.

He would threaten you with physical harm, breaking your legs so I could take you in a wheelchair :) (he doesn't mean it seriously but it's to make you afraid of the idea of rebelling)

He would constantly throw tantrums to get his way, threaten to hurt your children or worse, threaten to turn them over to the higher ups.

A moment that left a mark on you was on one occasion, when you were still very depressed because of all this adjustment, and so deep in your head that you answered Satoru badly.

He literally grabbed you by the hair, pulled you back so you were close and said:

"Listen, old man, I have no problem sending one of your children to the higher ups in your place and watching them execute them, so you better start cooperating or I'll have to MAKE YOU"

only to then COMPLETELY CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDE and discuss with yourself what you would like to eat that night.

Trying to escape is difficult when they have your children hostage. You already know that even if you don't fulfill their fantasy well enough they could have them executed, so it's not a good idea to know what they would do in an escape scenario...

When certain events in the anime occur, he is much more mature and gentle with you AND with your children, he may even develop his own yandere tendencies about them (whether romantic or also platonic) which honestly only scares you more.

In general, at this stage of his life, his obsession with you is based more on his desire to have even some normality.

but he purposely ignores that YOU ARE NOT NORMAL and you never plan to be.

so it's an Infinite loop where Satoru tries to win your affection.

be strong.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[graylinesspam]

Ahsoka had always felt Anakin's attention somewhat like a spotlight. He couldn't help it. With as high a Midaclorian count as he had, everything he did through the force was loud. Obi-wan told her it hadn't been as obvious before he started his training.

Back when Anakin was a child all he did was read the force. He never touched it, manipulated it, he just listened. And that constant flow of force into him made him very quiet and nearly invisible in the force.

But the moment he learned to reach out. To push his will into the force. It was like the vibrating ring of a gong. So much louder than the tickling bells of the other younglings.

Now that he was a full-fledged knight Anakin was a constant cacophony within the force. He sent ripples throughout the force like a transhandoan makes water ripple when they bellow.

Since they've cultivated a training bond Ahsoka has always been able to tell when Anakin turns his attention to her through the force. Waves washing over her almost palpable enough that she can feel them on her skin.

At first she was overwhelmed, distracted by the constant onslaught of Anakin. But as they grew together Ahsoka found her footing like a fisherman grows used to the rocking of his ship.

Now when Ahsoka feels the waves cresting over her she reaches for the threads of their bond and tugs back playfully. Reassuring her master that even when out of his sight, she is fine.

Across a battlefield, across the ship, or even on different deployments. Anakin always turns his attention on her occasionally. Feeling her out.

It's tremendously helpful in cases where she needs his help. More than once Ahsoka has yanked on the bond demanding Anakin attention. His powerful gaze turning to read her stress and her panic before she's even tried to project it to him. His alarm quickly flowing back to her in a way that lets her know he's already coming for her.

That was before she'd run away from him. Hiding amongst the levels of Coruscant with that spotlight following her every move was nerve-racking. Anakin was impossible to lose. Impossible to disappear from. The weight of his attention pushing harder against her. Trying to pin her to the ground.

And then after.....after she left.

It was a long time before she felt him turn her way again. He'd never severed the bond. But he never touched it either. He sat with his back to it like a toddler throwing a fit. Ignoring her existence.

Feeling his gaze sweep over her again. Even momentarily sent a shiver through her. She'd almost forgotten just how intense it was.

On the ship, in front of the Martez sisters, she could pass it off. Ignoring his attention as it quickly slipped back away from her. Longing and sadness dragging over her.

But then again, days later. In a cell for the third force-forsaken time, still imprisoned on Oba Diah, frustrated and tired and feeling helpless on her own, she feels him again.

The full weight of Anakin feeling her through the force. His attention starts selfishly. Focused on his own loneliness shoving itself punishingly into her mind. Then as she staggers against the bars momentarily receiving a shock from the plasma shield, his feelings turn to alarm.

Anakin is very familiar with the feeling of a plasma shield. He feels the shock it's self through her tired system and his own emotions recede from her mind as his guardian instincts kick in.

Ahsoka winces as he fully grasps their bond yanking on the line as he examines it. She can practically hear his voice echoing in her mind "Where are you" though the actual feeling is more like a demanding shot of alarm.

As alarmed as he is he is impossible to shrug off. But his constant attention actually gives Ahsoka an idea. If Anakin was imprisoned in the base of the pike syndicate at the center of the spice trade, how would he bust out?

It's with Anakin, quite literally, in mind that leads Ahsoka to the pike's armory and then their spice refining plant. It was rather stupid of them to store explosive charges in the same building as raw and unstable spice.

When Ahsoka blasts her way out she doesn't have a chance to contact anyone for some time. The mandalorians approach her on her way off planet. They offer her a ride. After Ahsoka and Bo have it out, she's busy for days learning about the struggles of Mandalore and the unfortunate fate of the Duchess.

Ahsoka manages to shove Anakin's attention away with a reassuring surge of relief. An all-clear signal she'd used plenty during combat. He reluctantly backs off. But never quite turns away from her again. Occasionally tugging the line to bother her.

When the night owls finally secure her an untraceable comm line Ahsoka intends to call him. To explain herself and reassure him she's fine. The mission debrief is already scripted, on the tip of her tongue. But she isn't a soldier anymore. And Anakin doesn't need to know about her every move now.

She sends a recorded message to Cody instead. She's not sure why him specifically, except that she knows Cody will use the intel properly and he won't go out of his way to try to contact her directly.

Her report is short and to the point. She was held on Oba Diah for three days, she blew up one of the major refineries and the Pikes seemed interested in capturing her as a jedi. They eluded to some conspiracy they were plotting against the jedi. Or at least specifically counted the jedi as an enemy.

She shared no personal details or those of the sisters she'd been traveling with.

When Cody received the recording he brought it first to Rex. Unsure of how exactly this information should be presented to the Generals. Or why Ahsoka would send it to him off all people.

"It'll cause a bacta shortage." Rex says, his eyes so glassy they reflect a perfect image of the screen.

"We have to inform the medics right away."

No one knows how the jedi will respond. They're all liable to explode when they hear the news. So the commanders do the only sane thing and schedule a council-wide holocall, one Skywalker is invited to as well.

When Cody plays the message for them the room is so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Until the moment Skywalker's blood vessels pop.

"What was she doing on Oba Diah??"

"Blowing up buildings clearly."

"How did she get there?"

"will this cause conflict with the Pikes?"

"it sounds like there's already conflict with the Pikes."

"She's still functioning as an agent outside of the military."

"I'm sure that's illegal."

Obi-wan sits with his head in his hands, his shoulder quaking with silent laughter. An edge of hysteria to his silent outburst.

As the council members bicker over the intel Anakin seizes the bond between him and his padawan and Yanks with punishing force. Determined to know what in the galaxy could possibly have motivated his Padawan to visit such a sketchy planet.

Annoyance screams back at him through the bond.

[etherfall]

Alder Adopts N AU: B&W Full Story

I've been mostly telling this story through scattered posts and have made quite a few adjustments to the OG story, so here is a post where I throw everything together. TY to everyone that has contributed suggestions! (I don't have a story for B&W2 yet but will get to that once I finish the game)

Also also I'm not the best at plot heavy stories so if you have any constructive criticism I would be happy to hear it!

TLDR: Alder finds & raises N instead of Ghetsis, causing a disruption in his plan of Unova domination. Years later after getting told that the champion Alder is raising a boy that can talk to Pokémon, Ghetsis seeks to re-capture N and continue his goal of awakening Reshiram to defeat the Champion & take over Unova.

Now for the very VERY detailed version:

History

For a bit of history, Ghetsis has a brother who is the embodiment of Virtue and Purity (This stems from my HC of the two brothers). They are part of the Harmonia bloodline who once ruled Unova many years ago. The brother is kind, generous, and has the ability to communicate with all people including Pokémon (this trait is passed through the purity line), which is why he was crowned King of the remaining followers of the Harmonia family (The Pokémon league kinda has government power over Unova now, but there are still people that live under the rule of the old Harmonia family). Ghetsis on the other hand is the embodiment of Evil. Because of this he never got the throne, and loathed his brother for it.

Ghetsis crafted a plan for him to be able to take the throne from his brother. Using a Cofagrigus (specifically the one on his team), he tricked his brother into getting sucked inside the coffin & mummified. N is very young at this point, leaving Ghetsis as the only available Harmonia member to the throne. He soon turned his attention to world domination.

With his brother dead and his son left, Ghetsis was going to take advantage of N's ability to talk to Pokémon (that he knew would be inherited from his father's ancestry) to summon Reshiram since he could not do it himself. He would convince people to free their Pokémon so he would be the only one who had control. Once Reshiram was freed he would be able to overtake the champion and rule all of Unova. Except his plan would soon be disrupted...

The castle was thrown into disarray. Those who disagreed with Ghetsis were casted out of the castle. In the chaos the young N disappeared, foiling Ghetsis's plan. N was later found in the woods by a group of Pokémon, who would be the ones that eventually raised him.

In the absence of the old King, Ghetsis created Team Plasma, manipulating the people who followed him into liberating Pokémon from trainers under the guise of good intentions. Team Plasma went into secrecy, operating away from the public eye.

Without N, Ghetsis didn't have a figure he could put at the forefront of his plan, so he turned to the next two available characters: Anthea and Concordia. While they probably weren't able to summon the dragon like N could, Ghetsis crowned the two sisters as the Queens of Team Plasma anyways. Maybe with their combined power they would be able to take down the champion and that would be enough. He acted as their closest advisor and kept a close eye on them, paranoid that the two might team up and conspire against him.

While this was going on, the Pokémon Champion Alder had fallen from grace. Once a generous and headstrong champion, he had completely abandoned his responsibilities and left all the work to the Elite 4 members. Alder once had a Volcarona that he had every since he was young. But in his pursuit for power to maintain his position as Champion he pushed his Volcarona too far, which led to it's death. In the aftermath of this he was wracked with grief and guilt, fearful that he hadn't listened to his Pokémon enough and caused its demise. His passion for battling wavered, and he casted aside his champion responsibilities to wander Unova instead.

One day while he was trekking through a forest, he stumbled upon a young boy who was with a couple Pokémon (It's N!). He was curious but also a little concerned, since the boy didn't seem to have any family around. Alder decided to take the boy in, ending his aimless wanderings to return to his home.

Alder raised N as his own son, initially getting him adjusted to society. He quickly realized that N had the special ability to talk to Pokémon. This peaked his interest and he began to teach N about the human and Pokémon connection, especially how it was strengthened during battling. He found that N's ability to talk to Pokémon made him a very effective trainer since he was able to connect to his Pokémon well. He started to mentor N, which re-sparked his own passion for Pokémon battling. Alder began to pick up his roles as champion again, owning up to his responsibility of protecting Unova.

While N is living with Alder he has a very lively childhood. He and Alder like to wander around & explore Unova together, and spend a lot of time outdoors interacting with the wild Pokémon. N gets to meet a lot of different kinds of people, and sees the special connection that both people and Pokémon have together.

Alder encouraged N to use his powers wisely, recognizing that his ability to communicate with Pokémon gave him a lot of advantages. However he entrusted N's good will and never doubted that his son would use his abilities for good deeds.

N's team consists of the Zoroark, Sawsbuck, Darmanitan and Swoobat that raised him in the woods. On his journey through Unova he is amazed by the Klinks in Chargestone Cave, and one ends up following him/evolving into Klinklang. Finally his last Pokémon is an abandoned/injured Deino that he found in the woods. He raises it into a Hydreigon through compassion rather than hate. (Credit: Klinklang, Hydreigon)

News spread that the previously disgraced champion now had an adopted son who was becoming an exceptional Pokémon trainer. N was rising the ranks, growing closer to those around Alder (See here for Elite 4) and shaping up to be a possible future champion.

However, this news also spread to Ghetsis. The Shadow Triad came to Ghetsis one day with the news that Champion Alder had adopted a son who could talk to Pokémon, and they believed he could be the lost son N. Ghetsis was surprised, but now had hope that he would be able to summon the dragon once again if he could just get ahold of N. He sends the Shadow Triad to spy on N and Alder.

B&W Arc

By this time, N is around 18-20 years old. Alder has resumed his role as champion, and him and the Elite 4 are once again on good terms. Since Alder is busy with his duties N becomes the wandering one, traveling around Unova to talk to trainers & their Pokémon

This is when the protag starts their journey. They essentially go through the same B&W game story as a trainer traveling through Unova. I'm not gonna go through all the details, just the parts where there are differences.

The protag fights the sisters (alternating between A&C) in Accumula town & Nacrene city as they question the new trainer about the ethics of Pokémon battling, and later outside the Mistralton gym.

The protag first meets N at Nimbasa city, where he is staring up at the Ferris wheel. He introduces himself and talks to the protag about his fascination for Ferris wheels (as expected), and notes the protag's strong connection w/their Pokémon before wishing them good luck on their journey.

The protag meets Alder & N at route 5, where they introduce themselves as free-spirited father & son. They've been scoping out an increase in Team Plasma activity and warns the protag to be careful. They also appear together before Twist mountain with this same mission.

The protag finds N in Chargestone cave, peering at the crystals in wonder. He has a conversation with them & helps them battle past the grunts in the cave before heading off (Suggest here).

Atop the dragonspiral tower, the protag encounters Ghetsis with the Light stone, lifting it up into the air as he tries to summon the dragon to no avail. He sees the player approach and makes a hasty retreat

The sisters appear at Relic Castle a final time in search of the Dark stone for Ghetsis. Alder is there with the protag and warns the sisters that what they are attempting to do is not as good as they think it will be. The sisters ignore his words, vowing that they will defeat him and liberate all Pokémon

When N is traveling through the forest, he is attacked by the Shadow Triad. They expect the fight to be quick but N is strong, battling back ferociously. They were ordered not to hurt N but being unable to defeat him, the Shadow Triad barrel through N's Pokémon and take him hostage, forcing his Pokémon to stop fighting in fear of hurting him. N convinces his team that he'll be alright, reluctantly leaving with the Shadow Triad as they disappear into the woods.

N's Pokémon come barreling into Alders home in a panic. Alder can't understand what they are trying to say to him but he realizes that something bad must have happened to N. He contacts all the gym leaders, and they all start a huge search for him.

Eventually Skyla reports back to Alder that during a flight across the region she saw Team Plasma's castle rising up to engulf the Elite four, as well as N being taken into Team Plasma's castle.

Alder comes running up to Drayden after the protag defeats him in Opelucid city, begging him for help. The Team Plasma castle had risen up and trapped the Elite four members within their confines. N had also been kidnapped by Ghetsis. He was gathering all the gym leaders to put a stop to their plan

Meanwhile in the castle, N is locked inside an empty room for multiple days (ironically the room that would have been his childhood room in cannon). He is upset and confused about what is going on, sometimes banging on the door & demanding an explanation while other times trying to reassure himself that he will be rescued. The two sisters come to visit him every once in a while to talk to him about Ghetsis's plans of liberation for the greater good of Pokémon. N is understandably unhappy with his situation but doesn't lash out at the sisters, instead seeing them as misguided. He tries to convince them that their world view is wrong. The two sisters secretly take an interest in N and his ideals, as they start to question their own beliefs with every conversation they have with him.

One day, the sisters come to the door and tell him that Ghetsis has called him to summon the dragon. The sisters guide N to the throne room and are greeted by Ghetsis. They are about to enter together except Ghetsis stops the sisters, takes N and slams the doors shut. The sisters are shocked but realize too late that Ghetsis has just locked them out of the room with the Light stone, leaving N and the dragon alone in his malicious grasp.

Once they are in the room N turns to Ghetsis, demanding an answer for everything. Ghetsis puts on a facade and lies to N, claiming that he is his true father and has been searching for him all this time. N is shocked, falsely believing his words are the truth. Ghetsis explains his plan to liberate Pokémon from people, claiming that Alder is the one that is in the wrong. Ghetsis then asks N to kindly help him free the dragon from the stone, "fulfill his duty as a son of the Harmonia family" so to speak.

N eventually succumbs to Ghetsis's lies and frees Reshiram from the light stone. Ghetsis is overjoyed, having finally gotten the dragon from his plan. He heard from the Shadow Triad that Alder was making his way up the castle, and awaits his arrival. Unbeknownst to them the protag would reach the room first.

The protag makes their way up the castle and stops at this very door, finding A&C helplessly trying to get in. The two queens express their feelings of betrayal. They were expecting to summon the dragon together and witness the start of a better future for Unova. But after Ghetsis locked them out they realized his true intentions were not for good but for evil.

Once the protag breaks in with A&C, they find Ghetsis with Reshiram, and N standing off to the side. Sensing Reshiram, Zekrom awakens from the dark stone in challenge. Ghetsis, angry that the protag has interrupted him, orders Reshiram to attack. The two dragons begin to battle.

Halfway through the battle N calls out to Reshiram to stop fighting. He had been pondering on the side and decided that Ghetsis's ideals were flawed. Ghetsis is shocked and argues back, demanding that N stop this nonsense. But N refuses to back down, deciding that he would rather put his trust into all of the lessons that Alder has taught him over the years. How Pokémon and people are better together and push each other to greater heights. Reshiram stops fighting and flies to N's, putting an end to the battle and leaving Ghetsis's side.

(TW: Violence) Ghetsis is furious. He swings his cane in a fit of rage and strikes N, knocking him to the ground. A&C run forward in a panic but are blocked by Ghetsis's team. The protag attempts to battle him but loses the fight. Ghetsis orders his Pokémon to attack everyone in the room. At this moment, Alder has made his way up to the top of the castle

Alder charges into the room with N's pokemon team by his side. He sees N injured and angrily turns to Ghetsis. Before he can send out his own Pokémon, N's team has already charged forwards and started battling Ghetsis's team. Thematically, N's team is victorious because they have all been raised with care and compassion, not cruelty.

Once Ghetsis's team is defeated, Alder sends out his own Pokémon to surround & prevent him from escaping. However, the Shadow Triad swoop in and take Ghetsis away, leaving behind their Bisharp & Ghetsis's injured team to defend their retreat. Alder makes quick work of the Pokémon but by that time Ghetsis has already escaped

Alder wants to go after Ghetsis but decides to help N first. They embrace and N apologizes for worrying Alder, which Alder immediately dismisses. They get ready to leave and then realize that Anthea and Concordia have disappeared among the chaos.

Aftermath

The gym leaders have rounded up as many grunts as they can and take them away while the castle is abandoned. Ghetsis has fled the castle and his whereabouts are now unknown. The dragons return to their stone forms and peace returns to Unova.

Alder drops the protag off at their house before he then takes N home. N is understandably shaken up about what happened, and now also confused about the information Ghetsis has told him. Alder assures N that Ghetsis isn't his true father, but admits that he doesn't know if N is actually part of the Harmonia family line. N says it doesn't matter, since Alder will always be his true father to him (Alder will definitely not admit that this made him tear up a bit).

One day there is a gentle knock at their door. Alder opens it and is surprised to see the former Queens of Team Plasma at their door. He is a little hesitant to talk to them at first, but they tentatively say that they mean no trouble. After the collapse of Team Plasma they were freed from Ghetsis's control and fled in fear. But now that the castle was abandoned they wanted to learn more about the world they had misunderstood all their lives. They apologized profusely about what happened, saying that they truly had no knowledge of Ghetsis's intentions. N assures Alder that the sisters cared for him back at the castle, and they plan out a little plot of land nearby where the sisters can build a cabin to stay in.

Thus begins a moment of recovery & peace as Team Plasma's presence fades away...for now

[solaarbeeam]

the strongest - g. satoru

CW :: angst, mentions of death and sashisu tragedy, and geto’s defection

a/n :: not a gojo girlie, but I decided to write this to try my hand at angst.. and here we are.

When Gojo Satoru had enrolled in Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, he had expected to have people groveling at his feet, to praise and worship the ground he walked on, simply because he was the strongest. That’s how it’s always been.

At least, until you, a black-haired delinquent, and an auburn haired snarky healer bursted into his life.

It was once, when Yaga-sensei had asked him and Suguru to come outside for a sparring match. Him versus Suguru, the true strongest. With you and Shoko on the sidelines, you for combat experience, and Shoko as the only proficient RCT-user in the last 400 years.

Suguru brought out a curse. Infinity dropped without his permission. Shoko administered her healing technique immediately. You laughed at him, though in a lighthearted way and not a condescending way.

Infinity dropped for you. Infinity dropped for Shoko too. This was when he knew, he found his forever people. His forever home.

The only Six Eyes user in 400 years. A Curse Manipulator, making the strongest. The only proficient RCT-user in the last 400 years. Last but most definitely not least, you. The user of a technique that’s powerful on its own but works so well once with a group of sorcerers.

And then he came to love you.

He loves the three of you, you, Suguru, and Shoko that is, but he loves you differently. He loves Suguru in a best friend way, all harsh words with softer meanings behind them. He loves Shoko in a best girl way, sharing sweets and stealing sunglasses and rough yet gentle hands healing over his wounds.

The way he loves you, is all hushed words and touches that affect his soul so much he feels like it’s going to overflow one day. His eyes flicker and blink adoringly when he looks at you, and that’s how he should’ve known how this story ends.

In their second year of high school, everything went to shit. He should’ve known. The people he loves are and will always be ripped away from him.

The higher ups have began physically separating Shoko from the four of you. She tries her best to stay with you guys, but the higher ups have gotten to threatening her.

Satoru didn’t like that. He scheduled a meeting with the higher ups. They didn’t call Shoko, a 15 year old girl who has seen too much, to long nights in the morgue again.

One night, when they went out to a festival for Suguru’s birthday, a day late he might add because you had a mission out of town, you finally kissed him for the first time. He held on to you so tight you felt as if he was cradling your soul in his pale hands. Shoko and Suguru, had said, and he quotes, “It’s about damn time.”

Then, after a few rare peaceful months, everything went to shit. Why? Because he, Gojo Satoru, can never be happy. All his loved ones have to be taken away from him.

He’s the strongest. But without the people he loves, the people he cherishes, what is he, truly?

A kid. A kid raised to believe he was a god. All until he realized he was a mortal all too late.

The Star Plasma Vessel Mission. He and Suguru had begged to take you and Shoko along, and so, the four of you went.

He wished that mission never happened.

Amanai Riko died at the age of 14, never able to truly live because of the fucked up system that runs Jujutsu Society. Satoru had finally learned RCT, but he had took brain damage and Suguru was on the verge of death.

You took on Fushiguro Toji and the last of the curses that had swarmed the four of you. It was a bloodbath. Satoru never gave enough props to Shoko. RCT is hard. They’re lucky to have her.

Suguru leaves, just like how all his loved ones are going to do, willingly or forcibly.

He’s ordered to kill him. He does. He comes back and cries ugly tears into you and Shoko until he physically can’t anymore.

His words ring in his head like a bell.

“Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?”

He never answered.

He found his comfort in you, because you were the only steadfast thing in his life. He loved you with everything he had, and he had a lot. He made sure to hang on to Shoko too.

He becomes a teacher. He gains students, including Toni’s little terror, Megumi. The kids love you.

It’s the happiest he’s been in a while.

Until Kenjaku comes. His eyes tell him it’s Getou Suguru. His soul knows otherwise.

Shibuya happens. Every sorcerer is dispatched, including Shoko, who’s not combat oriented, gets dispatched.

Shoko and you both meet him on the biggest battlefield. Shoko, like the stubborn person she is, insists on healing him. Satoru will never admit it, but she’s always been better at RCT than he has.

Then there’s you, the love of his life, the one person who’s been a constant in his life, who tosses off your jacket and runs into battle. His soul cries out for you, but it’s impossible for him to say it out loud when he has to focus on the fight.

Shoko falls first, and it hurts more than it was to make sure he didn’t get hit. As she takes her last breath, she hugs him one last time, and Gojo Satoru hugs back Ieiri Shoko’s lifeless body.

Then, he looks at you, who fought to the very end, knees to the ground and head to the sky. He scrambles to you, holding you in his arms as the calm before the storm erupts once more.

“Y/N…?”

“Yes, ‘Toru…?”

“Thank you for loving me.”

“I wanted to, and I always will.” You cough up blood mid-sentence, and Satoru knows you’re a goner.

“I love you, Gojo Satoru.”

He loves you so much, so so so much, but it wasn’t enough to make you stay. It wasn’t enough to make Suguru or Shoko stay.

He is Gojo Satoru. He is the Strongest.

He was a kid raised to believe he was a God. He fell off his pedestal.

He is the Strongest.

But without you, or his precious people, what is he really?

© solaarbeeam 2024. do not copy or repost anywhere.

[crimsonscloud]

new version of my oc lore go brrr.

on the 12th hour of the first day of october 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. this was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day began. sir reginald hargreeves, eccentric asshole billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible. brad barrett was not one of them. (and later, he'd thank god for that.)

name: bradley barrett

nicknames: brad (preferred); walking glowstick (by five and lila); sparkler, starboy (by lila); number two (by marcus); pretty boy (by sparrow!ben); the pyromaniac (by jayme)

gender: male

date of birth: october 1, 1989

place of birth: belfast, northern ireland

hair color: dark brown

eye color: blue; gold (when using powers)

faceclaim: pascal langdale

occupation: artist

affiliation: the umbrella academy (unofficial)

relatives: erin barrett (mother)

biography (pre-canon + season one):

as a young woman living in belfast during "the troubles", erin barrett is not at all in the position to be raising a child. especially not one that she hadn't had the time to plan for. but as she rests on the floor of her apartment, a wailing baby--her son--in her arms, she cannot imagine giving him up for anything.

when a strange man called hargreeves arrives on her doorstep, asking to take her son, she slams the door in his face. it takes everything in her not to grab the monocle he's wearing and stab him in the eye with it.

what she does not know is that he has or will ask many other mothers the same question. what she fears is that soon the question might become a demand. brad spends his early years being moved about, half because of the political turmoil and half because erin is paranoid that hargreeves will come back.

(in the end, he gets seven children, and apparently that is enough for him. it does not stop erin from waking up with her heart in her throat, wondering if this will be the day she wakes to a silent house and her baby gone.)

in 2015, brad moves to an area near the city to attend art school. despite the extraordinary circumstances of their births, he meets allison hargreeves in a mundane place -- a coffee shop. one conversation turns to many. he learns that the man with the monocle his mother warned him about as a child is sir reginald hargreeves. most important, he gains a friend, and someone who can understand what it's like having grown up with superpowers.

three years later, as allison's marriage spirals into divorce, they begin to fight. she becomes distant. he lets her. as far as he can tell, they've both moved on with their lives.

so he's surprised when, seemingly out of nowhere one march day, he gets a phone call from her asking if they can talk. she tells that him hargreeves is dead, that she and her siblings have been asked to attend the funeral. she doesn't want to go alone.

while brad has little interest in attending the funeral of the man who almost stole him from his mother, something makes him go anyway. maybe it's a sense of nostalgia for a past friendship; maybe it's curiosity about the other children hargreeves stole; maybe you could even call it fate. (brad wouldn't.)

thanks to a pair of time-traveling assassins, a senior citizen in a child's body, and an impending apocalypse, his trip to the academy grounds is anything but short.

powers and abilities:

plasma manipulation: brad's core power. he can absorb thermal energy and convert it into superheated plasma.

dagger creation: brad can generate daggers made of solidified plasma. he can telekinetically guide them in a given direction or spin them around his body to deflect small projectiles. if he is stabbed by his own daggers, the energy is absorbed back into his body.

heat and light generation: brad can release stored energy as bright light and intense heat. he also has a high resistance to temperature extremes.

self healing: brad's body can heal itself if in the presence of a heat source, usually sunlight. the speed / extent depends on the amount of exposure.

superhuman sight: brad can see over greater distances and with better clarity than most, and to an extent in total darkness. he has the capability to see a person's life force / aura (and in the case of the other children born from the marigold + harlan, he can also see their marigold).

weaknesses:

darkness: brad's powers aren't infinite. spending too much time in dark areas with no access to light renders him powerless until he can recharge.

drugs: like the others, brad's powers can be subdued with drugs / alcohol. because he can self-heal, the effect is usually temporary provided he has enough energy to draw on.

emotions: being "supercharged" or using a lot of power for an extended period makes brad more prone to increased aggression or impulsiveness.

energy depletion: if brad released all of his stored energy at once, he'd pass out afterwards. holding onto large quantities of energy without immediately releasing it is also painful and physically draining.

limitations: there is an (as-yet undefined) upper limit to how much energy brad can absorb at once. if he went above this limit, his body would overheat and potentially explode.

other random facts:

a chaotic, sarcastic, many-layered-bracelets-wearing bisexual.

constantly carries a lighter, and flicks it on / off when he's stressed or just bored.

has been arrested for vandalism before.

like his original concept, brad has a bit of a drinking problem. his powers make it harder for him to actually feel intoxicated.

you know that scene from j.essica j.ones where trish sips a coffee and goes "this has alcohol in it" and jessica takes it and tells her "that's mine"? five or viktor and brad energy tbh.

he's fluent in english and irish, and also knows some phrases in latin.

he has submitted work to, and gotten into, galleries before. (do i know how this works? no.)

his body temperature is constantly warm. as a child he'd run around in the cold without a coat on; erin repeatedly told him not to do this because it increased the likelihood of him getting noticed. (did he listen? most of the time, no.)

he bleeds light when he's injured. like. his wounds glow and stuff. he still has regular blood it's just glowy. it's fascinating and also really painful if anybody other than him touches them until they heal.

his eyes also do the "reflects light in darkness" thing.

it's gonna take me ages to rewatch so i can actually write up his season two lore, but for now i'm thinking he lands in april 1963, seven months before the second apocalypse.

marcus mistakes him for the umbrellas' number two since he and viktor have kinda similar powers. nobody corrects him on it until luther is captured.

he absolutely has a scene at some point that's set to "supermassive black hole" by muse. is this important to know? no, but it's in my head.

tagging @brellafaun plus everyone who interacted with the original post! if you don't want to be tagged let me know and i'll remove you: @mrbloodbender @dis-ast3r @jasshands @beesknees18 @justsomeonenoonecaresabout @aetherbound

[mysteroads]

Just bragging, but look at these NPCs I made! Behold! ALL the UA Third Years!

The UA Third Years in no particular order:

Name/Hero Name - M for male or F for female, "Quirk Name" quirk description.

Mirio Togata/Lemillion (canon character) - M, “Permeation” grants the user the ability to phase their body through all matter. ~Doesn’t participate in the Exam~

Tamaki Amajiki/Suneater (canon character) - M, “Manifest”  grants the user the ability to enhance their body parts with the characteristics of anything they consume.

Nejire Hado/Nejire Chan (canon character) - F, “Wave Motion”, grants the user the ability to convert her vitality into energy and release it in the form of exceptionally powerful spiral shockwaves, can fly*

Yuyu Haya/Diana (canon character) - F, “Electric Arrow”  grants the user the ability to create a bow and arrows from electricity gathered from the air around her. She gets very staticky on dry days.

Kazue Yokota/Illusionist - F, “Light Illusion” grants the user the power to generate and manipulate small to moderate sized illusions. Requires concentration.

Yōta Hidaka/Ricochet - M, “Kinetics” The power to store kinetic energy after being hit. Limit to how much he can store before it has to be released. (Toga stabs this one)

Naomi Ikeda/Lady Luck - F, “Luck” grants the user the ability to shift probability in their favor. They can’t do anything huge like survive jumping without a parachute, but quarter machines are theirs to toy with.

Yoshio Yamaguchi/Shield Hero - M, “Shield” grants the user the ability to create shields of various sizes and types.

Haruna Shinkawa/Soulsword - F, “Demon Weapon” grants the user the ability to shapeshift into a sword. Haruna specifically changes into a European style sword and is a fan of Arthurian Legends.

Juro Nishimura/Morph - M, “Body Builder” grants the user the ability to temporarily change his body to mimic any construction-style substance he touches (ex: concrete, steel, wood). Changes can last for up to an hour, but the more he changes, the faster he runs out of energy and the less time he has for each morph.

Hideyoshi Kanda/Roostertail - M, “Chicken” grants the user the ability to transform into a giant 10 foot rooster (think terror bird) with a sonic crow.

Chō Sugimura/Pause Button - F, “Time Stop” grants the user the ability to freeze time for thirty seconds. Recharge of one day required. 

Katsu Saitou/Tremors - M, “Earthquake” The ability to make the ground shake, can cause liquefaction under the right circumstances.

Yoshie Urano/Plasma Bolt - M, “Plasma Bolt” grants the user the ability to generate and manipulate plasma balls, including throwing energy blasts.

Yaeko Moriyama/Eleventh Metal - F, “Magnetic” grants the user the ability to mess with metal's polarity, as well as magnetize themselves. She can use this to “jump” long distances by pushing off metal and then pulling herself to a new metal by changing her and its polarity. Only works if the metal is heavier than she is.

Kōta Yukimura/Rōnin - M, “Stat Boost” grants the user the ability superhuman reflexes and increased stamina. Prefers to use a katana because aesthetic.

Reiko Hino/Misty - F, “Sublimation” grants the user the ability to transform into a fog-like form. The user still has to take in oxygen and cannot permeate through objects.

Akiko Yamauchi/Whirlwind - F, “Telekinesis” grants the user to move objects with her mind, but only objects weighing less than 20 lbs. She can pick up quite a few though and likes to make a vortex of ouch! around her.

Takako Shibuya/MoonBeam - M, “Laser Beam” grants the user the ability to shoot a laser beam from his third eye. The beam is a bright silvery white and can vary in temperature, from mild burn to welding-torch. Too much use can cause MoonBeam to go temporarily blind in his third eye.

Isamu Iwai/Featherweight - M, “Mass” grants the user the ability to change an object’s mass temporarily if he touches it. Mass returns to normal after five minutes.

Hayate Miyamoto/Aquifer - M, “Water” grants the user the ability to create water and, to some extent, manipulate water he did not create. 

 Ryoichi Miyake/Hermes - M, “Winged Feet” grants the user the ability to fly very fast with winged feet.

 Hachirou Hashiguchi/Wolfgang - M, “Wolf” grants the user the ability to blow giant gusts of wind with his mouth. (He’s also a wolf heteromorph and Winterheart’s big brother!)

Miki Amano/Slime Devil - F, “Slime” grants the user the ability to generate slime that can either stay slick, get sticky, or harden to trap villains. She can generate slime from anywhere, but she prefers to use her hands.

Naruhito Sano/Batman - M, “Bat” a partial bat mutation. Can’t fly fast but can still fly, very good at echolocation and can even knock someone out with a sound wave if he gets close enough. He has very sensitive hearing, but is nearsighted. 

Kiyo Takenaka/Delirium - F, “Fever Dream” can cause terrifying hallucinations when she meets her opponent’s eyes. A strong willed enough victim can break free, though.

Shizuko Inaba/LaVenus - F, “Venus Flytrap” grants the user the ability to grow giant venus flytraps from her fingers and arms. The stems can get very long, and the flytrap heads are the size of basketballs. The flytraps can move independently of her will. She can also create one giant flytrap.

 Kenzou Satō/ZoomZoom - M, “Speedster” grants the user the ability to run very very fast. They are not as fast as the Flash or Hawks, but he’s considered on par with Ingenium. 

Akane Arima/Comet - F, “Meteor Hands” grants the user the ability to create bowling ball sized rocks, set them on fire, and throw them with incredible speed and accuracy.

Sumire Fukui/Obscurus  - F, grants the user the ability to create a field of darkness around themselves up to thirty feet diameter. They can see in the dark, but it cancels out all other types of vision.

Akihito Yoshino/Tarantella  - M, “Tarantula” grants the user the ability to use thermal vision, web creation (from their wrists) for sticky nets and ropes, and climb sheer walls. Since they’re a spider heteromorph, they have six arms, extra eyes, and is extra strong.

Shichirou Iwamoto/Captain Kangaroo - M, “Kangaroo” can do everything a kangaroo can, BIG muscles and can punch your lights out. Kangaroo heteromorph, of course.

Shinsuke Shimizu/Catscratch - M, “Scratch” grants the user the ability of silver fingernails that can lengthen to a foot long and can cut through steel.

 Osamu Ōshiro/Freeze Frame - M “Finger Frame” grants the user the ability to freeze something just by catching it between the square of their fingers, like he was making a frame around it. Freeze as in stop, not as in cold, and the fingers must be square and touching. The farther away and the more things caught between the frame, the harder the frozen things fight to start again.

Sayuri Hashiguchi/Winterheart - F, “Cold Breath” grants the user the ability to breathe freezing air and snow. Basically the exact opposite of breathing fire. (She’s Big Bad Wolf’s twin sister, but she’s not a heteromorph!)

Masato Yoshida/Bones - M, “Bone Armor” grants the user the ability to create armor made of super dense bone. He can even bounce bullets off it. Has been likened to an armadillo to tease him.

Yuu Seki/Cable - F, “Steel Medusa”  grants the user the ability to manipulate her hair made of steel cables.

Akito Maeda/X-Ray - F, “Identifying Eye” grants the user the ability to see weak points in structures and enemies. However, she herself has no extra strength or speed, and her vision can be overwhelmed.

Daigo Kanemaru/Porcupine - M, “Needle Spit” Can spit various amounts of needles of different sorts and lengths.

[dorothygale123]

I'd say I'm becoming a nerd, but that ship sailed a long time ago. I guess I'm just expanding my nerdiness to other areas.

Anyway, MORE MYTHOLOGY!

So in Journey to the West, the Buddha explains that there are 4 'spiritual primates' that don't fit into any categories for immortals or types of creatures. Fans of Lego Monkie Kid are likely familiar with 2, the Stone Monkey Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque. The other 2, the Long-armed Gibbon and the Red-Buttocked Baboon are a lot more obscure. They only get a brief mention in JttW because the focus of the chapter they appear in is Macaque, but the idea of a set of super powerful Immortal monkeys is just too fun to pass up, you know? So I've been thunking my thinker.

What if each primate was associated with a different realm (mortal, heavenly, lunar, and underworld) and element? I know the 4 elements (earth, water, wind, fire) are a western idea rooted in alchemy and eastern mythology has 5 elements (earth, water, fire, metal, wood), but there aren't 5 monkeys and this is just a thought experiment and not me trying to force western ideas onto eastern culture.

Got it? Good.

Now, Sun Wukong is very solidly earth because he's, you know, a rock. No surprise there. He was also born in the mortal realm and spent most of his life there, so we'll call him the celestial primate of the mortal realm while we're at it.

The Six-Eared Macaque is another easy one. A lot of LMK fannon associates him with wind, inferring that his heightened hearing has something to do with wind magic. He's also very closely tied to the moon because of the line in "Shadow Play" where he directly compares the Warrior (himself) to the moon. So Macaque is the celestial primate of wind and the Lunar realm.

Now here's where we get a bit more speculative and start using information creatively. There are 2 monkeys, realms, and elements left I want to use, so let's start with the monkeys so everyone has a baseline understanding.

The Long Armed Gibbon (Gibs, from now on) is described as being able to "seize the sun and moon, shorten a thousand mountains, distinguish auspicious from inauspicious, and manipulate planets and stars."

The Red Buttocked Baboon (Babs for short) has "knowledge of yin and yang, understands human affairs, is adept I'd daily life and can avoid death and lengthen its life."

Starting with the realms because they seem easiest to assign, I would give Gibs the Heavenly realm because of its ability to move around celestial objects like the sun, moon, planets, and stars. This leaves the Underworld to Babs, which I think fits nicely because their "knowledge of yin and yang" and "understand[ing] of human affairs" would make them a good assistant to the 10 Kings of the Underworld.

Next comes the 2 remaining elements, water and fire, which are a bit tricky because it could go both ways.

Gibs could be fire because the sun and stars are giant balls of burning plasma, but also water because the sky/heavens are often associated with an ocean or other bodies of water in several different mythologies. For example, in Egyptian mythology, Ra sailed his boat through the sky every day, while in early Abrahamic belief the sky was a huge dome with water on the other side, and rain happened when floodgates were opened to let the water through. In Chinese myth specifically, the Milky Way is often depicted as a river that is sailed through by various deities.

Babs could fit with fire as well because underworlds and hell-adjacent places are often shown to have fires to torment and punish the sinful dead, no surprise there. But there is surprisingly a lot of water symbolism in the realm of the dead as well. For example, some people may be familiar with the Japanese idea of the Sanzu River, very similar in concept to the Greek River Styx, as well as the Chinese Huang Quan/Yellow springs.

Personally I would pair Babs with fire because he has red in his name, making him the celestial primate of fire and the Underworld.

That leaves Gibs to be the celestial primate of water and the Heavenly realm.

I feel pretty good about this, but if anyone else has other ideas I'd love to hear them.

Sh*tpost Masterlist

[yanderes-galore]

Hi again! For pokemon, could you do a rivalry-ish situation, with an overprotective platonic Genesect with it's trainer, versus a romantic yandere Ghetsis, please? And reader is very wary of him, and doesn't trust him at all. Thank you!

I'll try my best, sure!

Overprotective! Genesect vs Yandere! Ghetsis

Pairing: Platonic (Genesect)/Romantic (Ghetsis)

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Kidnapping, Threats of injury, Attempted murder, Isolation, Forced relationship/Dubious companionship.

Genesect was a Pokemon altered and created by Team Plasma.

As a result, it most likely hates humans/Team Plasma.

An idea of how this dynamic can go is this...

Genesect escapes the labs of Team Plasma and finds you.

You are a Pokemon Trainer who is collecting Gym Badges with your friends, so essentially a role similar to the Black & White protagonists.

You fight against Team Plasma whenever you can, which catches the eye of Ghetsis.

When Genesect meets you, it watches from the bushes for awhile.

It doesn't trust humans after what it went through... so it observes how you interact with your own Pokemon companions.

Eventually Genesect may jump out of hiding and attack you.

Despite your fear you prove yourself in battle, tossing a ball at the strange Pokemon by the end of it.

This is how Genesect becomes your Pokemon.

It takes time to get used to you, but upon seeing how your other Pokemon act around you... it feels comforted.

You aren't a bad human.

In fact, soon Genesect begins to rely on you and listens to you in battle.

You find the Pokemon interesting and may even assume its origin is Team Plasma related.

It's a Bug Type... but also oddly cybernetic.

It's unique... but you care for it all the same.

Now, Ghetsis originally saw you as a nuisance.

You keep foiling his plans like some sort of vigilante.

Although... his interest increases when he sees you with the escaped Genesect.

You've managed to tame the living weapon to work for you.

He grows intrigued by your bond yet also hates it... and now finds himself with a new obsession over you.

Ghetsis finds you... attractive and powerful due to your team.

With Genesect under your control he finds some admiration for you within him.

Yet you are very wary of the Team Plasma leader...

Genesect even shows aggression towards Team Plasma members, another factor adding to your theory on its origin.

You don't trust Ghetsis, he's too charismatic for his own good.

When he talks to you he's very manipulative, always tempting you to join him.

Why fight him? He can give you power if you join.

When you disagree or Genesect defends you... Ghetsis feels fury burning within him.

You always manage to slip through his grasp.

He has a feeling Genesect is helping you, too.

He can't get anywhere near you without the threat of being shot by Genesect's cannon.

Genesect has a feeling Ghetsis is trying to do something with you.

It fears that he may be trying to experiment on or hurt you... so it defends you with its life.

Ghetsis doesn't intend on harming you... when he has you, at least.

Until he gets you in his arms he doesn't care how much harm comes to you.

Due to how deranged Ghetsis can be... he could break a limb on you or knock you out cold until he gets what he wants.

But when he has you he'll isolate you away... treat your wounds... and keep you to himself.

When he has you in his grasp he'll even take control of Genesect.

After all, that Pokemon has caused enough damage anyways.

But if Genesect oversteps... well... Ghetsis could always just have it killed.

After all... such a Pokemon has kept him away from his beloved.

Genesect can try its best to defend you... but Ghetsis will find away around the issue.

Ghetsis will have you in the end... he promises that...

Even if he has to squash a bug and you come to him broken.

[bl-bracket]

Most Unhinged Round 4: Hira (Utsukushii Kare) vs Xie Wang (Word of Honor)

[Submitted Reasons Under Cut]

Hira: "Idolship at first sight. This man completly skipped the love phase and went straight into obsession. While very much attracted to and in love with Kiyoi, he is also intensly devoted to their inequal power dynamic, to the extent that he often ignores (or as some might put it kindly, is oblivious to) Kiyoi's feelings to preserve his ability to worship Kiyoi. To him Kiyoi is like a star or a god, and Kiyoi really just wants Hira to acknowledge that Kiyoi has feelings too and isn't some unfeeling piece of plasma floating in space. Kiyoi also frequently refers to Hira as his stalker, which Hira seems to like?"

Xie Wang: "Absolutely unhinged leader of an assassin sect who has no moral compass and immediately killed a guy for fun because the guy said "Kill me if you dare" two seconds earlier. Was emotional abused by his father figure who he had a homoerotic relationship with, and instead of killing him in revenge, he instead orchestrated an elaborate scheme to have his abuser/lover/father figure permanently incapacitated and mute for the rest of his life, to be used and manipulated as a completely dependent body at Xie Wang's pleasure/whims. And honestly, who can even blame him? Xie Wang did nothing wrong 💕"

[yazzydream]

Just had a funny thought.

So we know Toji's appearance and murder of Riko was unexpected for everyone. (2006, 12 years ago)

Besides the TVA and Q, it didn't look like anyone else was going for Amanai. So, Kenjaku was probably going to wait another 500 years before their plan was going to start.

At this point they'd already gotten Kaori Itadori's Antigravity System and given birth to Yuji, though, which is interesting. (2003, 15 years ago) So, maybe Yuuji really wasn't initially meant to serve a greater purpose. Housing of Sukuna or otherwise... Or maybe Yuji was a happy coincidental prototype? An experimental run through? Or maybe Yuuji is just singularly unique.

Anyway, what I thought was funny is that after Toji killed Amanai, Kenjaku was probably sweating and rushing to find the Prison Realm. (2012, 6 years ago) Like, "Holy shit I've gotta take advantage of this opportunity! 💦"

But yeah, it probably moved up their plans by A LOT.

And then you got Geto with his Cursed Manipulation. He has a falling out with Gojo, then Gojo kills him and leaves his body ripe for the picking. (2017, 1 year ago) And since the merger didn't happen, Tengen is more Curse than human, it's like, everything perfectly fell into place.

Actually, sure Toji fucked up a lot of shit for everyone in the current timeline, but you can also see it as a good thing. This specific group of individuals (Satoru Gojo, Yuji Itadori) wouldn't be around in 500 years to disrupt Kenjaku's plans otherwise.

The Star Plasma Vessel, Six Eyes, and Tengen are fated. Fate is a tangible concept that exists in JJK. Which throws Toji's role in an interesting light...

Kenjaku says Toji's presence destroyed their destinies. But if there is a higher power in JJK... the one who bestows "Heavenly Restriction"... I'd say it's actually the opposite. Toji's actions may've saved the greater human race.

TL;DR Toji Fushiguro's murder of Riko Amanai is part of Heaven's greater plan to counteract Kenjaku's plan.