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fredmundo · 4 months ago

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below the break is the first chapter of my oshamir fic. i don't know if it's any good. i've been too depressed to edit and work on it since the news so here it is.

any feedback, comments, interaction, whatever would be so appreciated and loved. i think i just need to post this here, in a space that loved this series along with me to hopefully inspire me to write the other 8 chapters i plotted lol

please forgive any errors but feel free to send corrections to my inbox

so yeah, untitled oshamir fic ch. 1

Osha thought there would be a heaviness to her steps when she walked onto the Stranger’s ship. This ship was to carry her away from Mae, away from her home. It was to bring her to the island and a galaxy of unknowns.

Osha had always hated the unknown, hated feeling unsure in her place growing up on Brendok, never quite feeling herself or like she belonged to herself. The feeling of unease never unfurled from her chest while she was at the academy. So she dreaded its arrival now on this ship, with the dangerous man.

But it never came.

Osha had chosen this, freely. That grip on her chest never tightened when she thought about the Stranger and her agreement to train with him.

There was no fear burrowed in her heart but there was guilt and anger as they pulled away from the ground and entered the atmosphere.

Brendok was irrevocably stained once again. Stained with blood and the sour taste of hate.

Osha clicked on the com that she had earlier turned off. “What do I call you?” There was a twinge to her voice that she hated. She didn’t want to care that she had killed Sol, broken his heart with her mind. She wanted freedom.

“Qimir. You may call me Qimir.” There was a crackle and pop sound in the comms that Osha made a mental note to look into when they returned to the island.

“Not Master?” The vitriol leaked into her words. She didn’t want to call him Master, didn’t want to be owned in such a way, under his power and control.

“Qimir will be fine.” It sounded like he was smiling.

“Okay. Qimir.” Osha tested the word, how it felt against her lips, on her tongue. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the planet. We will rest. Then we will train.”

That’s it? That’s all the information he was giving her? Frustration bled into her.

Brzzt. Osha shut the comms off again.

The waves crashed against the walkway, soaking stone beneath her boots. She hadn’t waited for the Stranger– Qimir. The weight of her choices suddenly felt like too much.

She stared out at the sea, the violent waters that crashed against cliff sides and shores. She wanted to believe that she had only just opened her soul to these negative feelings, the anger and fear and desire, but she knew that was a lie.

Osha was born with this in her.

Beneath the Bunta tree had always felt like a place of solace, of freedom, where Osha could be without prying eyes and expectation. The yellow leaves hung like curtains, swaying in the breeze. A blue and red Brendoki Flutterby flew in front of her. It seemed to dance on the wind with a freedom that Osha could only dream about.

Today was to be her and Mae’s Ascension. Mae couldn’t wait, she burned with the desire to be a witch and to be just as Mother Korril and Mama had hoped. Osha knew she didn’t want to be a witch, and didn't want to be constrained to a set of rules that felt like a hand around her throat.

She wanted what that flutterby had. And she hated the creature at that moment.

Osha reached out, pulling on the thread, and held that tiny creature still. It was at her mercy. What she willed, would be.

But she didn’t want to deprive another creature its freedom like her was to be. She released her hold on the flutterby.

The sound of boots on the wet stone approaching her roused Osha from her memories.

Qimir slowly approached Osha where she stood at the edge of the water. While the planet was small, the island more so, Qimir knew he would feel drawn to her power on the biggest planet in the galaxy.

He would feel her across the galaxy. She had quickly become intertwined in his being; the thread of the force tying them together.

Qimir stood near Osha now. Not as close as he wished to be but as close as he dared without any indication from her that his proximity was welcomed. When their eyes finally met, the thread that bound them together tugs him closer. He cannot help but be drawn into her orbit.

He stepped closer until they were almost shoulder to shoulder. He reached out slowly, careful, and he dared to touch her. Qimir wrapped his hand, that monstrous thing that killed her friends and former teachers, that would kill again, around her own and the lightsaber she earned from Sol. His thumb dragged across her soft skin.

Both their eyes turned to look out at the horizon, the sun above and the sea below them. The thread taut between them.

He had known. Known that she didn’t need his words or guidance at that moment. Known that what she needed was to be seen and accepted.

Osha knew that he could see her, could see that warring her spirit between who she had been told to be her entire life and who she was choosing to be.

So he didn’t say a word, just looked at her. He never looked away from her. As soon as he had seen her, dressed as Mae, coming into that damned apothecary, Qimir knew he wasn’t going to look away. He could feel a kinship in her through the force. He could feel her power.

“KRIFF!” Osha roared in frustration from where she laid. The soft grass of the plateau they were training on had concealed a stone that now dug into her shoulder.

“Your stance is good but you are fighting too much like a jedi, too controlled.” His easy voice, buttery, normally would be welcomed but with her back jabbed by a rock, his voice felt grating.

Growling out, “aren’t you supposed to be fixing that?”

They’d been training every day for the last few weeks, since returning to this planet, Osha did not know the name of it, it wasn’t charted as far as the Republic was aware. Every day, Osha wound up on her back, having failed to best Qimir. Though, her stamina was returning and the feeling of a weapon, even if it was just a wooden staff, had stopped feeling foreign to her.

“Getting rather angry, Osha.” He draws out the sounds of her name, pulling at her seams with that elongated second syllable. He clicked his tongue, tutting at her for her rage. He knew the more he picked at her, the angrier she would get. He wanted her to unleash herself from the cage she insisted on putting herself in.

The sound of his tongue clicking, as if he disapproved of her emotional outburst, brought only more anger to the surface. Osha shoved up from the earth, picked up that sparring staff. Her grip was a vice, knuckles white, as she took her stance. Normally, this is where Sol would’ve scolded her, told her to cool her mind of the fire that burned her now.

But Qimir liked the fire, asked for her to burn him, too.

“O-sha,” the insolent man continued to tease her. Goading her into striking him.

Moving fast, Osha closed the distance between them, striking out with anger, something she was told to never do. She let it fuel her strikes against Qimir. He moved easily to block her but she was also able to block the counterstrike he threw at her.

“Good, Osha.” His voice had lost that teasing lilt and was now filled with pride. He stepped back, signaling to her to pause in her attacks. “But you need to be–” She struck at him again, feeling a rush of exhilaration at his barely having blocked the blow in time.

“Unpredictable?” She continued to strike, moving to control the momentum of the fight, pushing him in the direction she wanted, toward the plateau’s edge.

Of course, he determined her goal. With whatever strength he’d buried, he quickly turned the tides against Osha. He kept her on her back foot, pushing her back across the plateau.

With a strong final series of moves, Qimir hooked his own staff around hers and twisted, and Osha’s staff was ripped from her grip. But he didn’t stop at disarming her, with another move he brought the staff behind her left knee pulled. Her stance now wider than comfortable, unbalanced, he easily took her feet out from under her and Osha’s back met the hard earth again.

Another rock found its home in her spine. “Kriff! Gods! You nerf-herder, bastard!” Osha cursed up at Qimir, who was laughing.

“Quite the mouth on you. Not very Jedi of you.” The tease was back in his voice. He laughed lightly, there was affection for Osha that she was unused to.

“I worked on starships for 6 years. Cursing is a job requirement.” She reached under her and grabbed the offending rock and threw it at him. He of course, dodged it, a smile still plastered on his handsome face.

Yes, in her own thoughts, at least, Osha could admit that Qimir was beautiful. With a jawline that sharp it would be hard to believe that he could look soft, that his eyes could be anything but filled with anger. But now, they were bright with subtle crinkles, sunlight bouncing off his perfect tanned skin.

“That was much better.” He turned that perfect smile in her direction, offered her a hand.

“I still ended up on my back.” Osha didn’t feel like it had been all that better of a showing. Her back was definitely going to show bruises.

“Yes,” he righted her onto her feet. While he dropped her hand, he didn’t move to step away from her. His right hand lifted and pulled grass from her locks. “But you fought without restraint. You ignored whatever combat rules the Jedi pretend exist.” His eyes move around her face and head, checking that she is free of earth, before locking with her eyes.

He still hasn’t moved back.

Qimir knew he should step away from her. She often sought out space, having grown comfortable with isolation after her years as a mechnic, but he couldn’t bring himself to just yet. Staring into her dark brown eyes that Qimir could swear contained stars with how bright they shined after a bit of praise slipped across her skin. Or when she felt powerful and strong.

Qimir found himself waiting for these moments of closeness with Osha, moments where she wasn’t so guarded.

But he wouldn’t push, wouldn’t risk her abandoning him. He could’ve handled Mae leaving him, there was never this level of connection. He had seen her anger and thought there was more to her but he now knew that he was simply waiting for Osha. Whatever depth he had seen in Mae was just Osha, through the force and the way they’d been made.

But she is still just looking at him.

He still doesn’t move away. The hand that had been clearing grass from her hair now bravely moves to cup her cheek. His thumb lightly brushed across her cheekbone and soft, brown skin.

If he could live in this moment, he would. “You should never cage yourself, Osha. The Jedi saw your power and were afraid of it and did everything they could to erase entire parts of you. But you shouldn’t continue their work. You deserve freedom.”

Her heart raced, breath pumped into her body and he spoke. It was like Qimir could look through her, into her. He understood her and he encouraged her.

You deserve freedom. That was all Osha has ever longed for. Since beneath the Bunta tree, to the academy, to working as a mechnic, and now in this moment. Osha craved freedom.

“We should wash. And I would like to check your injuries from today.” Osha nodded at him and finally took a step back from him.

He gathered the staffs and his bag that seemed to go with him everywhere. He moved toward the path down, toward the beach and tide pools.

“Qimir,” Osha called and he paused and turned. “I do want freedom. I don’t want to be,” Osha mulled over the word he had used. Caged. Had the Jedi really done that to her? Put her into a box and locked her away? Had Sol? She felt the word drop out, the sentence she had meant to finish.

He smiled at her but it was almost sad like he could see that she was struggling with the realization that she had been hurt by the Jedi. “Come on, Osha.” She could almost feel him saying, save that for another day.

Osha followed him, lengthening her strides to catch up and walked next to him.

The water of the pools was cool but not cold and it felt like heaven against her skin. Qimir had entered the pool first, swimming straight ahead and never looking back toward Osha, giving her privacy to undress.

Qimir didn’t need privacy. He liked to feel her eyes on him while she desperately tried to not let her gaze linger.

Now the water lapped at her back, the skin warmer with injury was now cooled and it took most of Osha’s concentration not to moan at the relief. Osha worked through her routine now, letting her focus shift from the man in the water to herself. Dunking herself under the water, wetting her hair and working what was left of her soapstone through her hair and across her body. Ensuring a thick, even coat of soap across her hair, she dunked under the cool waters once again and shook her hair, spreading out like a jellyfish’s tentacles, floating through the water.

Osha always thought of her mother when she washed her hair, and remembered the peaceful moments of her childhood when her mother had taught her how to care for her hair. Mother had always shown her that pride and care of oneself wasn’t a bad thing but a beautiful thing. Since having left the Jedi, Osha had been trying to relearn this and relearn how to value herself. At the academy, they teach you to lose yourself, not to take pleasure in small acts of self gratitude and expression.

They don’t do this to be evil though it is sometimes still the case. They discourage any affection to your life before the academy and for Osha that meant losing a thread to her mother and herself.

Now, here in this water, hair washed, as Osha floated in the water, she let herself feel connected to her mother in a way she hadn’t felt for sometime.

Osha missed her mother more than ever now. She missed her mother’s soft hands when they would plait her hair just so to match with Mae. She missed her mother’s encouraging voice as she would walk Osha and Mae through their training. She would give anything to hear her voice again, soft and silky with a touch of smoke.

Her final moments with her mother had been bittersweet. But she was grateful to have gotten to be wrapped in her arms one last time.

Before she was killed.

“Osha,” Qimir’s voice skimmed across the water, “are you okay?” The sound of water sloshing as he slowly made his way over to where Osha swam.

Osha nodded, turned to face him, not knowing tears coating her face until she locked onto his eyes. His brow scrunched in concern and his mouth opened slightly at the sight of pain. “I’m alright. Just thinking about my mother.”

He still swam closer. “Tell me about her.”

This pulled at something in Osha. She’d never been encouraged to speak about her. Sometimes, while at the academy, she had been afraid that she would forget her mother entirely.

But here was this man, deadly and full of emotion, everything the Jedi had warned against, and yet, he met her with a kindness she hadn’t expected.

So she does. She tells Qimir about her mother, everything she can think of from how she looked and walked, to the power she could command, to sneaky trips out for spice creams and how much she wishes she wasn’t dead so that Osha could tell her that she was right.

And Qimir listens. Floating there in the water, getting wrinkled for how long he lets Osha ramble, and he laughs with her at happy stories, and lets Osha work through her pain at the hard moments when her voice lodges in her throat.

When they finally climbed out of the pool, the sun rose just past its apex in the sky. They’ve only just reached the cave but Osha doesn’t get settled like they usually do. Normally, Osha will rest or write, like she did when she was a child, and Qimir will craft cortosis armor. But today, Osha drops her training equipment and trades them for tools.

With the tools, Osha turned to head out to the ship, wanting to get to work before the path became obscured under the waves.

Qimir noticed that Osha wasn’t taking her usual spot on the mat and opening her journal.

A spike of fear erupted in his chest, “where are you going?” Qimir wouldn’t stop her from leaving him, wouldn’t deny her freedom of choice. But Gods, he was afraid to lose her, afraid to be alone. He followed her out the cave but not down the path.

“I noticed a popping sound in the ship’s communications that I wanted to fix.” She didn’t fully turn around, just through the reasoning back at him over her shoulder.

Oh. That was a relief to Qimir. Slightly embarrassed that his immediate thought was that he was being abandoned, betrayed.

“Fixing the communications systems,” he gave a breathy laugh, “I would’ve thought that you’d be sick of the sound of my voice by now.” He smiled, remembering her cheeky muting of him during their first passage to Brendok.

“Yes, well,” she was shouting back at him, having turned as she still made her way down the path toward the ship, “who says I’m not?” She smiled brightly at him. Turned and continued on her way.

She hadn’t brought anything with her except her tools. Not even her saber. She wasn’t going to leave him, at least not today. Qimir let himself be soothed by the thought. He returned to the desk where he worked to forge her a gauntlet of cortosis.

#oshamir #the acolyte #fic #fuck you disney #i dont own anything but if i fucking did id loved it better than them #qimir #osha aniseya #this might suck im sorry osha and qimir i tried my best #me to myself rn: be brave post it be brave #writing #my writing

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transitranger327 · 6 months ago

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Spin the Thread, Weave the Story: Ch. 1, Holding On

Oshecki fans, here’s the fix-it au you’ve been waiting for. I promise there will be more chapters because I love these two.

Summary: Jecki Lon faces her most desperate moment. Osha Aniseya tries to recall her past training. Can they survive? MASSIVE spoilers for Episode 5 of The Acolyte

Osha Aniseya woke up to a shock. It felt like hours had passed. Instinctively, she checked her chrono, but it was missing somehow. Also, she was wearing her sister’s clothes. “Kriff, she’s doing something stupid. I hope Master Sol can tell us apart. For his sake,” but before spiraling entirely, she took a deep breath, and reached out with the Force. No Mae, no Sol, no Jecki, no Qimir, no Yord, no Ithia, no Bazil. Everyone had either left or died. Figures, that she would be left behind, alone. She silently commended those that had passed on to the Force, those whose echoes remained, and wept for friends lost, Yord and Jecki especially. Yord had been her best friend in the Order, and Jecki had immediately found a place in her heart. But as she got up to leave and find transportation, she tripped over the faintest thread, “Wait, kriff, Jecki is still here. Barely. I need to find her.” And the former Jedi sprinted off to find her friend.

“There she is.” Osha saw a body with three separate lightsaber stab wounds. If Jecki Lon wasn’t practically dead, she would’ve looked peacefully asleep. Beautiful, even. The thread Jecki was holding onto was so thin it was practically a single fiber. “Stars, she hasn’t learned how to let go.” Many Jedi would’ve called this a failing, but others would say that giving up on life was the bigger failing. Either way, it might’ve just saved her life. Well, if Osha could remember how to heal. “If only PIP was here…” She regretted not having any first aid on hand. “Oh who am I kidding, PIP wouldn’t be able to patch up lightsaber stabs anyway.” She had to admire the efficiency of the cuts; they were clearly the work of someone trying to kill. She remembered learning, at the Temple, where to stab people in places that could be healed with bacta and time. But no, she had no bacta, no time, and the wounds were fatal. And her Force healing was so rusty, you could practically mix it with pinestill to create red paint. Still, she did her best to remember the silent invocations. “I am one with the Force and…”, but Jecki’s wounds did not close up. And her connection to the material world slipped even further. Then Osha remembered one of Auntie Eurus’ lessons after accidentally killing a spider.

“The Thread connects all things, not just the living. If you can find their strand, you can spin it back into the Thread of the Living.” Her auntie had a talent for tipping the scales between life and death. “But remember, you need to use your connection. The spider eats the flies that bite us. The spider feeds the birds that sing for us. You must focus on these feelings to revive another.”

And so Osha reached deep into her soul to find connection to Jecki. The teachings of Master Sol. The laughing at Yord’s extreme formality. How quickly they fell into a rhythm with each other. The comments they made to each other that bordered on flirtation. “Oh…do I have feelings for her?” So she began pouring her heart into the rudimentary revival spell she managed to assemble, augmented with the few Force Healing techniques she was confident in. Between the silent incantations, a loud whisper emerged from her lips, “Jecki Lon, I am NOT losing you.”

—

The pull of the cosmic force grew stronger every second. The call to rejoin the song of creation. All things emerged from it, and all must return to it some day. But she still had so much to learn, so much to say, she didn’t want to go yet. And then Jecki felt it: the warm smile she hadn’t seen enough yet, the flirting she had fallen for, the braids that looked incredibly beautiful, the sense of humor that just felt right. Osha Aniseya was holding out a hand into the void, and she was not planning on saying no.

—

“It’s working! It’s working!” The thread between them was spun stronger by the second. Osha felt the Living Force pulsing in her veins, with an intensity she hadn’t felt in years. The sheer magnitude of it threatened to drag both of them underwater, but she had managed to anchor herself to the forest. “No one else has to die today” had become her new mantra. She could sense Jecki’s fragile pull, like a climber trying to crimp her way up a cliff face. “Take my hand.” The padawan was able to latch onto Osha before her tendons broke. Together, they were strong enough to remain in the Living Force; and they knew, somehow, that Jecki’s wounds were starting to heal. Organs regenerating, bones knitting together, muscles and sinew reattaching. She took a few, shallow breaths for the first time in hours, with a faintly beating heart.

The Cosmic Force was no longer pulling them. The self-sustaining nature of life was now working in their favor. Life, after all, goes on.

But Osha was now feeling the toll of her actions. Force healing required giving of your own vitality, as did the revival spell she was attempting. As her connection to Jecki grew stronger, her grasp on consciousness weakened. She tried staying awake for as long as she could, tho she feared collapsing from exhaustion. Then, she sensed Jecki…stabilize,, just like,,, a barely functional……replacement part………in a,,,,,,,,junker………

—

Jecki Lon woke up to a shock. Immense pain radiated from her chest and torso. The cold air blowing across unprotected flesh. She took inventory of all her body parts: “head, check. arms, check. legs, check. lightsaber, check. torso, three large burns.” And a strange weight rested on her rib cage. “Wait that’s Osha’s head.” The pain was too much for her brain to contemplate what happened, but a small smile crept onto her face as her crush was gently sleeping on her. “Maybe…I just need more sleep.” were her last thoughts as she once again drifted into unconsciousness.

Tagging the people who reblogged my original post about writing this: @osha-and-jecki @thatchmanger @bravetigerwildwolf @jazzforthesoul @echosdaffodil @darthmatthewtwihard

#the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #oshecki #osha aniseya #jecki lon #osha x jecki #sapphic star wars #sw fanfic #auntie eurus is the character played by abigail philosophytube yes that’s her name #ao3

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