#osha x qimir | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devieuls · 3 days

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ˋ Haunted . ✹

Qimir x Ex Jedi Fem Reader < SERIES >

Warning of the Serie: MDNI. Sith Lord Qimir x Fem ex Jedi Reader.

(during the series)

SMUT: Dirty Talk; Fangs; Bites; fingering; Blood; Spit; Jealousy and Possessiveness; Foreplay; violence; Swearing; Teasing; Unprotected Sex; betrayal; slut shaming; oral sex; dacryphilia; outdoorsex; jealousy BDSM. Dom Qimir ANGST: toxic relationship, self-harm, derealization, suffering, Requited / Unrequited love, prejudices, bullying and insults. There will be flashbacks in this series

Aged characters: Qimir 35 y.o / You 22 y.o.

Synopsis: In a twisted web of light and darkness, two opposites are facing each other, dancing on a thin thread called fate. What happens when light and darkness dance on a wire called destiny, two eternal opposites that inevitably attract each other and create something perfectly powerful and chaotic to unite the power of two in one? The answer emerges in a journey of tension and attraction, where yin and yang discover that their opposition is nothing but a reflection of a deep and unexpected connection. This is the story of how destruction is akin to peace, how the moon one day decided to save the sun, how darkness is not so dark and evil so bad. A journey towards change and desire, where opposing forces merge into a future that no one could have predicted.

(Following some events of the series)

Lenght: 4.2k

TW: THE SERIES WILL BE FULL OF DELICATE TOPICS!

⇠ Previous chapter ✵ Next Chapter ⇢

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⠀⠀⠀⠀Chapter II: The Loss

“You are like me…” he whispered a short distance from your lips.

The tension between you was almost tangible in the air. The fire burning in the cave cast shadows on his chiseled features, making his eyes shine with an intense and dark light. His gaze was piercing, but it was no longer just malice: there was a deep understanding, a dangerous invitation. His words, making their way into your mind, mingled with your thoughts, bringing you to a realization you didn’t want to accept. You swallowed. You couldn’t give in, you couldn’t allow yourself to become what he said you were. You were not like that. With a tremendous effort, you pushed his hand away, taking a step back to break the spell that seemed to envelop you both.

“I’m not like you,” you declared, your voice firm, though still charged with that tension that seemed ready to explode at any moment. “I won’t let the dark side consume me. I won’t become a monster like you.” Silence fell between you two. The man slowly withdrew, as if accepting your decision, but with an expression that suggested his offer was far from withdrawn. Perhaps, he thought, it would only take another moment of weakness, another moment of raw reality, to make everything you believed in crumble.

“A monster?” he repeated with chilling and sarcastic calm, his voice like silk sliding over your defenses. “Is that how you were taught to see us? What monstrosity is there in feeling free, y/n? Free, from everything that holds you back… free from the weight of a code that suppresses and represses emotions. Your emotions.” His words were a dangerous whisper, insinuating themselves into your heart with lethal precision. He knew exactly where to strike, where your hidden wounds could be opened. And every time he spoke, it seemed he was getting closer, physically and mentally, to a part of you that had taken years to hide. “See, I’m not bound by anything,” he continued, with a kind of dark pride, tilting his head slightly as if to study you better. “And neither should you be. Have you never felt that desire inside you? The urge to push beyond the limits that have been imposed on you? To let go?” His hand moved again, slowly, deliberately, resting on your shoulder this time, as his body moved close enough for you to feel the warmth of his presence. Despite everything, you couldn’t pull away. Every fiber of your being fought against yourself, yet his proximity was a temptation you were finding increasingly difficult to resist.

“You’re like me,” he whispered once more, his voice a warm breath near your ear. “No matter how much you try to deny it. No matter how hard you try to repress what you feel. The dark side flows within you… the anger, the pain… the desire. Isn’t that what makes us alive?” You swallowed, your breath short as you struggled to maintain control, but each word he spoke hit you with surgical precision. Each whisper dragged you closer to the edge of a dark and unknown abyss. Your mind was in turmoil, torn between denial and an unsettling awareness. There was something true in his words. Your pain, your anger… the emotions you had always suppressed were there, on the surface, and the idea of releasing them was alluring like a forbidden promise.

“Let me go.” you hissed, your voice breaking between the tension and the desire to break the spell that seemed to surround you both. “I am not like you. I will never be like you.” The smile that spread slowly across the Sith’s face was predatory, laden with a confidence that made you seethe with frustration. But there was also something more… a hidden desire, a dark curiosity that made him look at you as if you were an enigma he desperately wanted to solve. “Not now,” he admitted, bringing his face even closer to yours, his eyes probing yours with such intensity that made you shiver. “But one day… you will understand. One day you will see what I see in you.”

His hand slid down your arm, stopping at your wrist, the touch light but firm, as if he could control not just your movements, but also your thoughts. He leaned in towards you, his face now just inches from yours, his lips dangerously close, enough to make your heartbeat quicken. His warm breath brushed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “When that day comes,” he whispered, his voice a breath that seemed to penetrate every defense you had, “you won’t be able to turn back. And then, finally, you will be free.” His eyes seemed to linger on your lips for a moment, making you hold your breath once more inexplicably. You remained still, caught between revulsion and an attraction you didn’t want to admit or truly understand. Every word he said made your convictions waver, yet inside you, your will still resisted, clinging to that last shred of light that kept you anchored to your code, to your identity.

The man let you go slowly, aware of the tension between you, of the thin thread he was weaving between desire and temptation. He moved back slightly, never breaking eye contact, his smile faintly triumphant, as if he knew the battle was won, but the war between you was far from over. “Until then, I hope you enjoy your days with me as my guest,” he murmured, making you shiver. And as he walked away, you stood there, your heart still in turmoil, your emotions bubbling inside you. You quickly recovered from that moment of fragility, only to look at him with a sharp gaze. “Days?” you hissed as you watched him extinguish the fire that had been cooking the food he had been tasting only moments before. “The ship has sustained severe damage, and before it’s properly repaired, I’ll need a few days, if not weeks,” he said calmly and placidly as he took two bowls, filling the first with what looked like soup. “Weeks…” you whispered, swallowing, and then you watched the man. “I don’t have weeks. I need to find my sister.” You declared, advancing with a purposeful step, as if this might intimidate him. “Mae? You don’t need to find her.” he said with that soft voice, his eyes now shining with an unexpectedly delicate and sad calm. The atmosphere suddenly grew heavier, as if those words were laden with a weight you couldn’t yet fully comprehend. You stopped a step away from him, the stranger’s words echoing in your mind like a challenge. His calm tone, the apparent sweetness in his gaze, all seemed so contrasting with the darkness you knew was inside him. It had to be a mask, one of many he wore to get what he wanted. “I don’t need to find her?” you repeated, your tone sarcastic, looking at him as if you wanted to pierce through his deceptively gentle demeanor. The man offered you the bowl with the same calmness he had spoken, as if the entire situation was under his complete control.

“She’s dead.” His words were like a sharp blade that cut through every certainty and security you had left. The world around you seemed to stop, every sound fading as if it had been sucked into a silent vortex. The bowl of food he offered you seemed unreal, an absurd gesture amidst the horror you were experiencing.

That word echoed in your mind, bouncing like a distorted echo. Dead… Dead? Chaos began to spread in your head, a storm of pain and disbelief that overwhelmed you without warning. Your vision blurred, and the world seemed to wobble beneath your feet. It couldn’t be true. Not Mae. Not your sister, your other half, the only person who had always supported you, whom you would have given anything to protect despite the distance that had separated you two over time. She couldn’t be dead… not her Your mind refused to accept it. You felt your breath falter, as if the weight of the air had become unbearable. A lump tightened in your throat, preventing you from speaking, from shouting at him, at the entire universe for that unbearable cruelty. Pain enveloped you, an unrelenting wave that slowly suffocated you as you tried to breathe but couldn’t find the air.

“You’re lying,” you managed to whisper, staring at the floor, still incredulous. A part of you wanted to deny it, to fight against reality. But another part, darker and more destructive, knew it was true. You already felt that emptiness inside you, a chasm widening more and more. The man watched you in silence, his gaze becoming more serious, almost reflective. Perhaps, for a moment, he realized he had inflicted too deep a wound, that he had unleashed a pain even he hadn’t anticipated. “I saw her…” he said in a strangely gentle lower voice, a note of empathy contrasting with his dark nature. It almost seemed like he was trying to reach out to you in that moment of tearing anguish, as if, somehow, he could understand the storm that was devouring you from within. But even his calm seemed calculated, a hand extended into the darkness but with a precise purpose. “You killed her.” Your voice trembled with firmness, but there was no hesitation in the words. It should have been a question, but it came from your lips like a condemnation. A final sentence you had already assigned him, as if it were the only possible answer.

The air in the cave grew thicker, everything around you seemed to fade, the cold rock of the cave beneath your feet, all becoming indistinct. The only sound reaching you was the accelerated beat of your heart, echoing in your ears. The stranger remained still, his gaze fixed on you. For a moment, a flicker of compassion crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with the impassive calm that seemed to be a part of him. “No,” he replied slowly, his tone calm and measured. “It wasn’t me.” He paused, as if choosing his next words carefully, watching your reaction with unsettling precision. “The Jedi.” “You’re a fucking liar” you hissed, your voice sharp as a blade. Each word was laced with poison as the pain inside you twisted like a wounded beast. You felt your mind scream against the lie, the disdain for him consuming you.

He didn’t react immediately, his gaze softening slightly, as if he understood the chaos you were going through. Perhaps, you thought, he was enjoying the torment he had unleashed, like a patient predator waiting for the right moment to strike. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he sighed slightly, his face stoic, cold, and aware. “What do you think a Jedi does when they encounter a Sith who doesn’t bow to their commands?” His voice was a cutting whisper, like a sharp blade sliding across skin. The tone left no room for doubt: he was trying to dismantle your certainties, to confront you with a reality you had avoided, he wasn’t lying. “Sol said they would judge her… it’s not possible that—” you started to stammer, the words tangled in your turmoil.

“He killed her? Just because he’s your master, do you think he wouldn’t lie for a greater good?” He interrupted you with a coldness and frankness that seemed to penetrate your bones. “Do you think you would have followed him if he had told you that your sister’s fate was already decided?” His words hit like punches, shattering your ordered thoughts. Each word seemed to reveal a new uncomfortable truth, a missing piece in the puzzle forming in your mind. “You were a Jedi. You should know their tactics, their lies.” His voice was relentless, a cold whisper seeping into the deepest recesses of your being. “Think about it, y/n… why would I kill my pupil?” With a fluid gesture, he set the bowl aside, his gaze admiring your growing realization. Your knees gave way, and you collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed, forgetting the pain from your wounds. Your eyes filled with tears as you tried to understand the truth that was unfolding. Pain and confusion mingled, as the image of your sister, what you had lost, became clearer in your mind. The image of Sol, the master you had admired, was cracking, becoming something monstrous, something cold. You felt betrayed by the person you trusted most. The reality you had believed to be secure crumbled around you, as a cold tear traced down your face.

“I am not the enemy,” he said, his voice low and warm, but his tone was a mix of persuasion and understanding. “The Jedi betrayed you, they killed your sister… They lied to you, used you for their grand game.” Your mind struggled to push back his words, but they seemed to have a cruel and devastating sense. The pain you felt in your chest was nowhere near the anger and fire burning inside you. “I offer you freedom,” His words resonated like a dark chant, promising an escape from torment, a freedom that seemed as alluring as it was dangerous. His hand, offered with an almost elegant grace, was reflected in the dim light of the cave, creating a contrast with the darkness surrounding you. “I offer you revenge.”

Slowly raising your face to look at the man, you felt the world around you blur into an indistinct gray, as if your very existence was suspended between light and darkness. His face was a mask of calm, but your eyes, now glassy and full of pain, sought to grasp that gesture, that palm offered like a lifeline in a stormy sea. The pain of losing your sister, the betrayal you had just discovered, mixed with a growing awareness of how your life had always been manipulated. Every memory, every lesson you had followed, now seemed to question the meaning of your existence.

His words seeped into your mind, tempting you with the promise of revenge that you so deeply desired. His gaze, now so close to yours, was laden with an almost irresistible persuasion. Your trembling hand slowly reached out towards his, the idea of giving in to the dark side, of finding a way to channel your pain and anger, was seductive. But you also knew that accepting this offer meant abandoning everything you had believed in, everything you had fought for in vain. Justice, peace, impartiality… Yet, as you looked at him, the inner torment was palpable. Every fiber of your being screamed against this choice, but the temptation was strong, like a flame threatening to consume you. The moment your hand neared his was charged with palpable tension. Every movement seemed to slow down, as if time itself was holding its breath waiting for your decision. His words were a soft seduction, a call drawing you towards an unknown abyss, and your mind was torn between desperation and the desire for revenge.

As your hand approached his, an inner resistance made its way through you. You stopped your trembling hand just a few millimeters from his, as a wave of awareness and pain overwhelmed you. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath, closing your hand into a fist and withdrawing it from the Sith's. You felt a crushing weight in your chest, as new tears threatened to streak down your face. You pulled your knees to your chest, trying to shield yourself from the seductive temptation of revenge that was corrupting your mind. Your mind closed in on itself, a desperate refuge against the pain. It was an act of self-defense amidst the storm that Mae's death had unleashed.

The man, observing your refusal and your attempt to cling to that side of light, moved closer with a mixture of respect and understanding. He knelt before you, his intense and deep gaze almost as if he was peering into your soul. "What wonderful creatures we are…" he murmured, his tone reflective and tinged with a sort of fascinating sadness, as he placed two fingers under your chin, gently lifting it to make you look into his eyes. "Even in the revelation of the betrayal we have suffered, seeing the depth of our despair, we refuse to betray what has hurt us the most." His observation was both a compliment and a critique, a recognition of your resilience and a reflection on your internal struggle. You sighed deeply, your gaze now seemingly devoid of emotion, dimmed. "A special bond, isn't it?" he continued, watching you with an expression of admiration. "Between a master and his pupil." His words seemed laden with a sort of melancholic respect, almost as if recalling memories of his own, as if he understood your loyalty and your pain.

The man rose slowly, with a graceful and measured movement. His figure, elegant and imposing, stood out against the dim light of the cave, which seemed to illuminate almost naturally. With a nearly hypnotic calm, he approached the bowl he had set aside earlier, his gaze never leaving you. There was something surprisingly caring in his demeanor, a disturbing contrast to his previous coldness and stoicism. He looked at you as he took the bowl and approached you again, his physical presence emanating a kind of warmth, but now it seemed almost like a protective gesture. The bowl was still warm, the aroma of the soup wafting from inside was rich and inviting, yet you could only feel the weight of your grief.

"You should eat, or you’ll never feel better." the Sith said, his voice low and soft, with an undertone of concern you had never heard before. The tone was gentle, almost paternal, and his gaze was filled with genuine worry for you as he offered you the bowl. His hands were steady as he presented the food, as if the gesture itself was a demonstration of his intention to care for you. "I'm not hungry," you replied in a whisper, your determination to refuse his offer now a sign of pure and sincere sadness that held your appetite hostage. The feline-eyed man, however, did not seem inclined to yield. His expression changed, revealing a slight hint of frustration but also gentle determination. "Don’t make me force you to eat," he said, his voice growing firmer and harder, but maintaining that slight caring quality. He swallowed, clearing his throat as he moved closer. He knelt beside you, lowering his body to be at eye level with you. It seemed that every action of his was calculated to elicit a response, to persuade you to give in to his sincere desire to help you. His hands, as they offered you the bowl, were warm and gentle, contrasting with the coldness of your emotional state.

“I don’t want to force you,” he continued, his tone almost pleading, softer. “But you need to help yourself heal. I can’t let you destroy yourself. Not now, not after everything you’ve been through.” His concern for you was palpable, a stark contrast to the image of a heartless Sith. There was a tenderness in his gestures that seemed more easily associated with the behavior of two lovers, an inexplicable concern for you. You watched him for a few seconds, your heart a tumult of emotions, fighting a war you had always been careful not to create. The bowl was now there, in your hands, placed by that man whose name you didn’t even know. His gaze was kind, as if with just one word from you, he would have done anything. At that moment, he seemed like the only point of reference in a sea of confusion and pain.

“I don’t trust you,” you stated, your voice sharp and determined, as if every word was a barrier erected against any attempt to get closer. You felt that every word of his was a trap, a well-orchestrated game to break down your defenses. Yet, despite your contempt, there was something in his way of speaking to you that made it difficult to ignore him completely. “You are the reason they killed her. You are the reason for all of this.” The man sighed and then offered you a light, friendly smile. His face was now relaxed again, while in his eyes there was an inexplicable spark. “You’re right not to trust me,” he calmly replied, his voice soft and enveloping, while he slightly tilted his head in a gesture that seemed almost affectionate. “But trust your instincts.” His posture was relaxed. “Why would I want to hurt you after I saved you, healed you, and fed you? My aim, y/n, is not to destroy you.” His tone was sincere, and although you could sense a subtle manipulation, his words had a strong echo of truth. You wondered what he really wanted from you, but you had neither the time nor the inclination to delve deeper into the apparent kindness. Yet, every one of his actions still felt like a trap, an intricate mind game designed to break down your defenses.

For a few minutes, the silence between you became heavy, every word spoken seemed like a hammer blow on a glass wall. Your gaze landed for a second on the bowl in your hands. He wasn’t entirely wrong; after all, he had gone out of his way to save you when he didn’t have to, he had healed your wounds, taken care of you during your recovery, and now he had even cooked something warm to help you get back on your feet. You were the one being harsh at the moment. If he really had wanted to hurt you, he wouldn’t have hesitated—after all, you were injured and weak. With a quieter tone, but full of palpable unease, you spoke to him. “What’s your name?” you asked. Your voice was almost a whisper in the wind, broken but determined. The man raised his eyes, a shadow of curiosity in them. “I don’t have a name,” his tone was warm and harmonious, almost reassuring. “Qimir, call me Qimir,” he simply replied, once he saw the confusion in your gaze, with a tone that seemed almost intimate and sweet.

He slowly stood up from the ground, turning toward the exit. His shoulders were tense, but his step, like his demeanor, was elegant and measured as he walked away from you. He left you alone with your thoughts and the chaos of your emotions. With one last glance at you, he gently closed the door behind him. The metallic sound of the door closing echoed in the cave like a reminder of the solitude that now surrounded you. Inside the cave, there was a deep and absolute silence that would last only a short time.

Qimir leaned his back against the cold surface of the door, his breathing heavy and controlled as a weight inside him, at the height of his heart, grew heavier. The echoes of your sobs and tears penetrated through the door, and he remained there, motionless, listening to every single sound with closed eyes. The mask of tranquility and stoicism fell from his face with unprecedented speed, giving way to concern as he ached for your suffering. He tried to bury his concern for you with the pain of losing his own apprentice. But your crying was a heartbreaking melody, a stifled, silent cry of anguish that reflected in every sob and tear that streamed down your face. You were breaking, you needed to release the storm you had inside, clutching your hand to your heart. Inside the cave, the sound of your muffled sobs filled the air, your trembling hands gripping your skin, digging your nails into your flesh, trying to find comfort in the pain itself. You could feel the bond with your sister fading more and more, slowly, like a shadow that moves in the dying sun, fading into the darkness of the night

Qimir stayed there, sitting on the ground with his head resting against the door, his back rigid as he listened to the pain pouring into the room. Your stifled screams, the sobs, the sound of your crying that filled the air were tormenting him, but he knew your pride would prevent any form of vulnerability in front of him. Yet, as he listened to you, a part of him inexplicably found itself wanting to come in, to offer you a word of comfort, to share at least a fragment of that pain. He saw in you the same resilience he had seen in his old apprentice, reflected in your eyes and your voice, in your face. Mae, with her love for you and the pain of your separation, had spoken to him about you so much that he felt he knew you on an almost intimate level, even though you had never really met him before then. He realized that even though his affection for you was partly artificial, born from Mae’s words and his reflections, he was genuinely concerned for you. He wanted you to find some peace, to be able to face your grief without feeling judged or threatened by his unfamiliar presence, allowing you to mourn both your loss and his.

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Notes :

My beloved flowers, let me know if you like the story. Thank you for the support with the likes and reblogs, they help a lot my work and the commitment I put into it. <3

-Mel

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uzumaki-rebellion · 1 day

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"Tethered to You" Chapter 4

Masterlist HERE.

youtube

"Early this morning When you knocked upon my door Early this morning When you knocked upon my door

And I said hello Satan, ah I believe it is time to go Me and the devil walkin' side by side Me and the devil walking side by side…"

Soap & Skin – "Me and the Devil"

Her eyelids were too heavy to open. Swollen and raw from crying, Osha couldn't pry her dry lids apart. Her thighs ached and her head pounded a steady rhythmic pain. The scent of old wood smoke permeated the air. Tangled under a thin sheet and heavy wool blanket, she was too weary to move, yet the spiky pressure on her bladder was insistent that she relieve herself.

Osha turned her head to work the kinks in her neck out first. She wiped the crust from her lashes and dared to peek at the new world she escaped to. Qimir kept his living space neat although it was crowded with mechanical gadgets and cast off metalworkings. There were lighting lamps on the walls giving the cave a rustic glow. A power generator hummed in another hidden section of the cave that she spotted from a narrow opening beyond the sleeping area.

On a therma pad, near an old portable stove, sat a brass cooking pot. Something savory simmered inside, but Osha ignored it. She lifted up from the narrow bed noticing the weakness of her limbs. Her arm shook trying to hold her side up. A sour odor hit her in the face next. She sniffed wondering if it was the food cooking in the pot, however, seconds later, she understood it was her own unwashed body funk. With a scrunched face she dragged herself to the edge of the bed and placed her hands on her thighs to prop herself up. Queasiness in her stomach forced her head to lurch forward and she vomited a clear liquid onto the cave floor. She dragged her dehydrated body from the bed and headed for an open barrel filled with water. Not bothering to find a cup, she scooped water into her mouth and after drinking her fill, she washed her face with the cool liquid. A bitter watery sensation gathered in the back of her throat, but Osha pushed back on the urge to throw up again and swallowed several times praying that whatever wanted out... stayed in. The pain in her head subsided to a dull thud.

She was alone in the cave.

On unsteady legs, Osha rushed outside and peered down toward the ocean. The Exile ll was still on its landing pad in the distance. He hadn't abandoned her. Yet. She leaned against a rock wall and breathed in the crisp air. It helped quell the sudden panic. She touched her chest and her heart thumped like a frightened bird caught under her fingers. Embracing the fear that washed over her in that moment, Osha picked it apart to comprehend what it truly meant. Was it abandonment or the fear of never seeing him again? The swift attachment to Qimir seemed unnatural and yet her heart squeezed the inside of her chest the way it did when she lost her family as a child.

A dull sun floated in a hazy overcast sky allowing small shards of light to skim the oily blackness of the sea. The grayness floating on the horizon didn't affect the comfortable temperature caressing the skin on her face. She touched the clothing drenched in her stench. A bath was in order. She hastily pulled down her pants and squatted with stiff joints. Her urine ran out in a dark yellow stream flowing down loose gravel for what seemed like forever. She was grateful for not needing to do anything else and let her private parts drip-dry. A gust of cooler air blew between her legs and she pulled her pants up quickly being careful not to step in her own voided waste.

She wandered back to the cave testing the strength in her legs and passed a trio of small rock-looking creatures that watched her movement with round black eyes and long snouts.

"Shoo!' she said kicking her feet toward them in case they were small predators. They only watched her pass with quiet curiosity.

Inside the cave, Osha searched for clothing that belonged to Mae. She couldn't find anything other than a large chest filled with Qimir's things. She could borrow something of his though. Behind the chest was a metal clothing rack that held his black cape and other menacing looking garments. She touched his cape. The material was heavy under her fingertips.

"You're finally up…"

Osha jumped while fondling his clothes. She swallowed thickly and turned to face him. He wore a simple beige wrap-front jacket and brown linen pants with sturdy sandals and carried pale yellow netting filled with whatever he caught in the sea.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A few days now. Three to be exact."

"Three days?" she sputtered back.

"Yep," he said heading to his kitchen area.

He dumped his fresh catch into a large bucket of water and wiped his hands on a dingy clean cloth sitting on a low wooden table. She moved away from his slow advance. He paused his movement toward her with a questioning look.

"Don't come near me. I smell really bad."

"I know, but I'm used to it now."

She looked away from his direct gaze embarrassed.

"Put on your boots. I'll take you to where Mae stayed. She has things you can use there. And you can bathe…in private."

Osha nodded and he pointed to her work boots under the bed. She sat down and laced up. He busied himself with checking on his bubbling pot and the cook stove. While he wasn't looking, she wiped her right boot over the spot where she vomited hoping it would dry up before he noticed or smelled it.

"Coffee?" he asked, holding up a black pot.

Osha shook her head.

"It's here if you want it. I don't know how much in provisions Mae had left down there, but I'll supply you with what you need until you're better."

Qimir spoke to her in a modulated tone that was probably meant to soothe her uneasiness of a three-day blackout. His voice caressed her earlobes and she didn't fully trust the way it made her feel. Safe.

He wasn't a safe man.

But she wasn't a safe woman either.

He was a Sith.

And she chose him over the Jedi.

His hair was a damp crown of dark waves. He'd bathed earlier. His shirt stuck to his back and sides in wet places. He smelled of the sea and wind giving her a false glimpse of what life could be like with him training there. Her eyes narrowed watching him putter around his little kitchen like some innocent domestic. It was part of his seduction to keep her there. She knew that.

"Ready?" he said wiping his hands and then brushing a lock of hair from his eye.

Osha stood and Qimir reached for her newly acquired lightsaber hidden under the bed that she missed. He handed it to her overlooking the obvious wet spot on the floor under her boot. She gripped the lightsaber with assertive purpose. What she had done to get the weapon rushed forward in her mind and she shelved it for later introspection. He led the way out of the cave.

"Keep an eye on those things over there. They'll try to slip into your place and eat your food or even steal your clothes for nesting material. They're harmless, but annoying sometimes," he said pointing to the rock creatures. "Mae used to feed them and now they linger here all the time defecating everywhere."

Osha grinned behind Qimir's back. Mae was always playing with animals and insects on their home world. She exhaled a worrisome breath thinking of her sister.

"Hold up a minute," she said.

A spasm in her lower back slowed her walk.

"No. Keep moving. You haven't walked in days and your muscles are cramped. Stretch and move."

He kept walking far along a long, flat, and uneven path that created a barrier to a lagoon of dark blue water. She glanced to her left and admired another rocky island shaped like a scalene triangle on the horizon. Qimir turned to look at her.

"Walk," he said.

It was an order.

Osha pushed herself and grit her teeth enduring the uncomfortable pins and needles sensation in her sluggish feet. Slowly but surely her lower limbs came back to life and she trudged behind Qimir without stopping.

"You'll stay there," he said pointing further inland.

They hiked off the path for another twenty minutes and Osha understood why her sister never knew her Master's identity. He kept her housed far away where it was impossible to sneak up on him. Hidden behind a giant crumbling boulder that jutted across a tiny stream was a small opening to a dark cavern. Qimir climbed in first and popped a lighting tube he pulled from his pocket that lit up the entrance. He glanced around and found a lamp fixed to the cave wall and tapped it. Soft yellow light illuminated a small neat dwelling. There was a cot, a single chair, and a small table with tools and blade weapons on it. An uneven makeshift bamboo closet filled with Mae's cloaks and dark garments leaned against another wall. A hand-woven basket near the bed was filled with underwear and scarves. There was a decent-sized crack in the roof that let in some sunlight and it showed Osha a comfortable set up. The cave had more room in it than she ever had in her sixteen years away from Brendok. On Coruscant she roomed in a noisy dorm with other younglings and Padawans, while working as a meknek only afforded her tiny shared bunks in close-confined quarters on a starfighter. The cave was fit for a queen compared to what she was used to.

"She has a therma pad and some cooking utensils back there and a portable compression chamber to dry and preserve the food she caught herself. The lagoon water is drinkable, but run it through that water purifier over there first. It's rained the last two days and she collects water in buckets outside from the rock run-off…"

He pointed out other things she would need to use like a heater and where she could use the restroom inside and outside. Osha turned on other lamps and looked around.

"You'll find where to bathe safely in several places once you go exploring on your own. You can use the lagoon too if you want. There's a few natural hot springs around the island to soak your body after training. But you don't need that yet," he said.

"Okay."

"Clean up. Rest. We'll talk more later."

She nodded and he lifted an unopened ration pack next to a small knife on the desk.

"She usually had a box of these in here. They taste pretty good if you haven't eaten in a long time."

"I'll look around for them."

Qimir headed out and stopped in his tracks with his back to her.

"You'll have to unlearn so much from your old Jedi training."

He said it so low that she had to step forward to hear him.

"I know. I'm prepared for that."

He turned around.

"Osha, I will show you how to take the freedom you've wanted your entire life. I remember what it was like back then. Longing to be like them. They are so adept at selling you a dream that never comes to fruition. Everything was about control. Controlling the way you think, controlling how you act, even controlling how you were supposed to feel…turning you into a mindless disciple…turning you into bland, obedient, nothingness. They build up the light side of the Force as the panacea for the galaxy, but what they truly want is to push their will on those of us who seek a more passionate life that we bend to our will. The dark side has more to offer your life than you could ever imagine. I see it in you…felt it the first time I laid eyes on you. I will show you how truly dark and divine you are, Osha."

He spoke her name with such reverence making it sound like a sacred incantation.

"I want that. All of it," she said.

His eyes held a sensual glow in the lamp light. He reached out and caressed the side of her face. The pads of his rough fingertips were warm and she leaned into his touch. Her eyelids grew heavy. Glancing at his lips she noticed the lower one housed between his teeth and her own lips parted. All she could hear in the cave was her beating heart and the silvery tone of his voice as he spoke a new code to her.

"Peace is a lie…there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken."

Osha let the words sink into her ears and his eyes sink into her soul.

"Say them to me," he said.

He rooted her in place and she didn't speak until his thumb stroked the top of her cheek.

"Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken…"

"Again," he said.

Qimir pressed his forehead against hers and swallowed each airy word from her mouth as she released them with more conviction.

"Through victory, my chains are broken," she whispered into his parted lips.

He closed his eyes and that devilish smirk quirked his lips. She pleased him.

Qimir stepped away from her and a tenuous connection to him broke inside her like a cold splash of water thrown on her head. She glanced toward the opening in the cave. Breaking away from his charged gaze reminded her that her body stank to high heaven and she itched all over to wash away days of dirt, sweat, and her old life. Qimir caught the hint and climbed out of the cave leaving her to the privacy of her own thoughts.

She plopped down on the lumpy cot. It was not as big as Qimir's which was barely a full-sized bed under Jedi standards, but big enough for her. Privacy was a new luxury and she rifled through her sister's basket of underwear and found a body towel. Poking around further she found a toiletry bag behind a standing mirror with everything she needed to take care of her hygiene. She settled on wearing a long purple tunic that had criss-cross ties that she liked. Rolling it up in the towel, Osha gathered all that she needed and went to the largest water source outside of her cave which was back down to the lagoon.

Knowing Qimir was far away she didn't hesitate to pull off her smelly clothes and jumped into the chilly water. She let out a loud shriek once the icy cold hit her filthy skin. The lagoon was less than six feet deep at its maximum depth, and she swam around first getting used to the temperature before heading into more shallow water to scrub up with the chunk of soap and shampoo her sister left behind. She laughed out loud at how stiff her nipples stayed and how goosebumps decorated her body throughout her bathing time. The sun hadn't broken free from the clouds long enough to warm up the water, and she spent six good minutes scrubbing, rubbing and rinsing. She massaged her scalp with shampoo and carefully washed each loc thoroughly before dunking her head under to rinse away dingy-colored lather. Shaking her hair, it felt lighter. She fingered her thick curly roots in sections and knew it was time to plan a day to palm roll all the new growth. She prayed her sister had some hair butter to help with that long task. Osha figured she had to have a lot tucked away somewhere because Mae had beautiful long locs before she cut them. Now that she was free to be her true self, Osha wanted to grow her own locs longer. Like Mama's.

She stood up naked in the shallow end and cradled her hands against her chest. Mama used to hum and sing to them while they sat between her legs getting their scalps oiled and hair twisted into strong ropes of magic…at least that's what Mama called their hair. When Mama was done using her nimble fingers to bind curling roots, Mother Koril would decorate their soft locs with little shiny trinkets that she made just for them. Flowers. Shells from other worlds. And colorful seeds that the coven brought with them to Brendok long before she and Mae were born.

Osha remembered how Mama told the story of how she escaped from her original home world after she was exiled for being a heretic. She braided seeds into her hair to carry on their journey, and she taught the other women how to bind their hair in that secret way to secure food sources and beauty for their new life on Brendok. When they were finally free to be themselves, they planted those seeds that provided nourishment for their bodies and wild flowers for the forest. It became a tradition forever-after to braid seeds, shells, and memories of who they had once been and would soon become in their hair. It bound them together inside the Thread of Destiny. Like the long branches of the bunta tree curving down to the ground and their locs growing like enchanted tendrils down their backs, the Thread of Destiny was interwoven into the very fabric of their lives to remind them of their purpose.

She lingered in the cold lagoon touching her soft hair, bringing back sense memory of how her life used to be before she wanted to go…with him.

Sol.

Osha splashed out of the water and dried off, fighting back tears that threatened to crumble her face into a mask of anguish. Tossing on the tunic, she sprinted back to her cave barefoot, not even bothering to stick her feet in the unlaced boots she carried. She nearly tripped and broke her ankle diving into the cave. Heat rose from her feet up to the top of her head from the exertion. She threw her bundle of dirty clothes and boots on the floor and paced for awhile to calm down.

Her emotions swelled and subsided like the tides of the sea and it grew difficult to keep from crying. She needed a task to keep her busy. Dumping the basket of clothes onto the bed, she rummaged through them to get an idea of what she had as a wardrobe. She didn't know when they'd go off-world again for supplies or anything else.

Mae's underthings and casual-wear were of high quality. Her personal style slanted toward assassin chic. Osha dug through a large duffel bag and pulled out a bundle of clothes and a heavy folded cloak—

It couldn't be. Her throat nearly closed up.

She ran her fingers across the inner lining and recognized it immediately. The royal purple coloring upon closer inspection was a patchwork quilt of material stitched together to reinforce the wearer with more warmth from the darker purple of the outer layer. Her fingers shook. It was Mama's cloak repurposed with the scraps of Mother Koril's covering and the other coverings belonging to members of their coven. Osha spread it out on the bed and a small gold cape made for a child fell out of it. It belonged to Mae. It was part of their Ascension attire and had Mae's initials stitched into the shoulder with the sigil of their double moon.

"Oh, Mae," Osha cried out as her fingers smoothed open the cape to find pieces of Mama's cowrie-shell tassels left intact.

"Mae…Mae…" she whispered, shoving the child's cape into her nose, sniffing the scent of her twin when she was a little girl.

"They made me blame you…made me hate you…all over lies. So many lies."

Osha whimpered and fell onto her side clutching Mama's cloak against her chest.

"Mama, I'm so sorry…Mother Koril, you were right…so right. Forgive me."

She lifted a beaded string of cowrie shells and a boiling rage welled up in her chest and flowed outward consuming every cell in her body. The mirror reflected her vengeful image and she stood up to look at herself fully. The purple tunic draped around her with a form-fitting regal elegance as her rage festered, bubbling to the surface like a red-hot volcano that would level an entire world if it couldn't be contained, and in that moment, Osha fed into the desire to exact retribution on every Jedi in the galaxy. She screamed out decades of lies and the pain of a stolen life, screamed for the awful deceit and subterfuge the Jedi brought to her kin until the chords in her neck strained with the horror of it all. The blazing black rage coursed through her veins and swallowed the whites and browns of her eyes until a steely onyx gaze stared back at her from the mirror. It surged higher and she watched the edges of her body burn away like vaporous midnight ash floating away as Qimir's face tethered her inside the dark embers and became her sole focus until she winked out of existence into a raging frigid vortex of spiraling darkness.

Seconds later she snapped back into the world with the wind knocked out of her.

But she was no longer in her cave.

Gasping for air, sweating profusely, and disoriented, Osha jerked left then right, trying to fathom where she was. After another solid gulp of fresh air cleared her fuzziness, she recognized her surroundings.

In her feral rage, she had somehow transported herself outside of Qimir's cave. She quickly rubbed every part of her body to make sure she was a solid being completely there and not a smoky apparition imagining herself somewhere that she wasn't. Relieved, Osha exhaled and grounded herself. She was most definitely a mile away from where she started.

Qimir stepped out from his entrance carrying a bowl of hot soup.

"I was just coming your way to bring you this in case you were…Osha?"

He stared at her with concern. Between gulps of air, Osha blurted out an explanation.

"I don't know how I got here. I was angry and screaming in my cave and then…I turned into black smoke and broke apart…disappeared and reappeared here. I don't know what happened to my body."

Qimir absorbed the otherworldly information with a sense of calm that she needed desperately.

"Well, right now you're safe and in one piece. I can feel shifting fluctuations in the Force…this is something we can work through and understand…okay?"

There was a gleam in his eye. He held out the bowl to her.

"Eat with me inside and we'll figure out what happened…together," he said.

Osha's mouth watered from the scent of the bowl and her stomach co-signed the hunger by grumbling.

Qimir gave her a sanguine smile.

"Can't fight nature, Osha. You're starving."

She stared at the bowl and the hand that held it. He was the most powerful man she had ever met in her life and he wanted her for his acolyte. The wonders and wisdom she could learn from him would shape her into the warrior she needed to be.

She reached out and took the bowl.

He stepped aside and gave her space to walk into his cave on her own volition when she was ready.

"I want to choose me this time," she said.

Her feet wouldn't move and her body still trembled as she held the bowl of soup to her side. Qimir came to her instead and pressed his lips on her forehead. The taut, hard feel of his body against her soft nakedness under the tunic broke the spell of uncertainty and she walked by his side into his home.

A.N.:

I'm going to play a lot with hair and Black women using magic because I am someone who has worn locs for over half my life and I also grew up with Hoodoo, so I know what it's like to be seen as an outsider up against b.s. (Um, the Crown Act in the U.S. and all the stigma Black folks get for practicing their own rooted African Traditional Religions etc, hello).

#The Acolyte #oshamir #osha x qimir #Star Wars Fanfiction #the acolyte fanfiction #oshamir fanfiction #Uzumaki Rebellion #osha aniseya #qimir #qimir fanfic #tethered to you

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