#oshamir fanfiction | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

unhinged-summer-fun · 6 days ago

Text

edāx (oshamir)

edāx (Latin) greedy, gluttonous, voracious, devourer.

Rating: Explicit (22+)

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x The Stranger "Qimir"

Summary: Osha goes out with Fillik after all, and makes the acquaintance of a dangerous man — if he is a man at all.

Warnings: Vampire AU and all that entails, sexual content. 11k word count deserves a warning.

A/N: This is my gift for @tourmaline-dream for the Oshamir Holiday Gift Exchange 2024! I hope you like ittttt~ And many thanks to @starlightafterastorm for betaing this fic <3

“Would you quit looking at him?” Fillik hissed across the table. Their section of the cantina was loud enough that he didn’t have to whisper, but the quieter reprimand got the point across better than if he’d spoken regularly or even if he’d shouted it. None of the other nearby diners seemed to notice them—but that wasn’t unusual in this end of the galaxy.

Osha returned to herself, snapping from her reverie as if Fillik had poured his fussy little mixed drink on her head. The breath Osha took was ragged, like she’d been holding her breath—or forgotten how to breathe entirely. She avoided responding to the remark, this time gazing in the opposite direction of the man who’d caught her attention.

Her restraint lasted for all of three seconds before she peeked back at the shadier side of the dining area, catching a glimpse of dark hair, pale skin, eyes that glinted crimson—

“Osha,” Fillik said at a normal volume, flapping a sticky menu in her periphery to act as blinders. “You have the subtleness of a bantha, my friend. At least get up and talk to him instead of just gawking.”

“What are you talking about?” she said, breathing out in a slow, controlled exhale that did nothing to calm her nerves. Stars, but that man had rattled her from across the room.

“You’re going to have no chance at picking that guy up if you just stare at him like—”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s going to eat you or something.”

She rolled her eyes and sipped her drink, shaking her head at her friend. “I’m not here to pick anybody up, Fil.” Osha slapped at the flimsi he held up as a privacy barrier. Despite her protests, she checked again.

The man was gone.

Disappointment filled her chest, heavy and cold. The feeling sharply shifted to tension, hairs standing on end when—

“Hello.”

A deep voice, smooth as whiskey and dark as night, cut through all her thoughts with exacting precision. Her mouth went dry despite the taste of her drink still on her tongue, and she turned to look up at the person next to her, up and up and—

Dark hair with eyes to match, pale skin with teeth to match, bared in a half-smile that made some primal side of her soul shiver. Up close, the stranger looked even more fascinating, all cheekbones, lips, and jaw that would have looked ridiculous on any other face—but he wore his features comfortably, not an ounce of insecurity hidden on his person. She only caught a glimpse of his teeth before the smile grew closed-lipped, but she swore she saw something predatory around his canine teeth: too long, that primal soul said. Too sharp. Too dangerous.

But Osha had never let that little voice stop her before. She was a meknek, for fuck’s sake. She took strolls through space and risked her life every other day to distract her from the nightmarish silence of space.

“Hello,” Osha said, feeling a little silly. The stranger’s brown eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Hi,” he said, and damn, there was that flash of a tooth again. It caught her breath, but not before she made an even greater fool of herself.

“Hi.”

Silence rolled in like the tide, awkwardness threatening to overtake their meeting.

“Please join us,” Fillik said, breaking the silence. When he caught her eye, he raised his eyebrows and gave her a look that probably meant, don’t be weird and act like a normal person.

The man slid gracefully into the seat beside Osha, and from this close, she caught a glimpse of long, dark eyelashes. It may have been the harsh lighting of the spaceport’s refectory, but he seemed almost sickly pale were it not for the grace of his movements that spoke to his relatively good health. Fillik cleared his throat, pulling her head out of the nebulae and back to solid ground.

“Um.”

This was going great.

“What’s your name?” the stranger murmured, lips moving only as much as necessary to communicate. It made her lean in, as magnetized to him as her boots were to the outer hulls of starships.

“Osha,” she whispered, even softer than he’d spoken. An amused expression crossed his face, one eyebrow raising so naturally she almost didn’t notice it. She said again, louder, “I’m Osha. This is Fillik.”

Her friend didn’t seem too convinced of her normal person act, but he stifled his teasing in favor of taking on the role of a wingman. “We’re mekneks.”

The stranger hadn’t looked away from Osha once. “How daring,” he commented, the other eyebrow joining the first before his expression relaxed.

Osha’s small-talk abilities fizzled like a dying candle when the stranger didn’t offer his name or profession. “You don’t have a drink,” she said bluntly.

Fillik looked like he wanted to run headfirst into the nearest wall as hard as possible.

But the stranger wasn’t repelled by her awkwardness. The corners of his lips inched upward, and his eyes finally strayed from hers, dipping downward but not scandalously so. No, his eyes seemed more focused on her collarbone, tracing the delicate line of it back and forth with so much intensity it was almost a caress.

“I don’t drink all that much,” he said, still smiling softly, secrets galore held behind his lips.

“A cantina’s kind of a weird place to be, then,” Osha said. She heard Fillik suck in a breath, almost wincing at her observation.

“I was looking for a bite,” he shrugged. “Something smelled good over here.”

For the briefest moment, as his mouth wrapped around the word bite, Osha could have sworn she saw that impossible glint of too-sharp, too-long, dangerous teeth again. But at his affable, easygoing shrug, she stifled that instinctual urge to flee. Heart racing, she didn’t know what to do or say besides sit there and breathe.

“Oh, a menu.”

The stranger reached across the table, his hand glancing over Osha’s wrist. She flinched at the sharp, biting cold of his skin when it brushed hers. It reminded her of the frost that collected on her exo-suit after a long shift. After those shifts, when she stepped into the tepid spray of a shower, her body reacted to the warmth as if it were open flames. She wondered what her skin felt like to him, and watched his expression carefully. He must have felt something when he touched her, but his expression gave nothing away.

“Do you recommend anything?” the stranger asked, acknowledging Fillik. A brief thrill of satisfaction raced through Osha as Fillik straightened up beneath the stranger’s piercing, dark stare.

“What’d you see that smelled good?” he managed to stammer.

The stranger’s eyes flicked to Osha briefly—so briefly that she had to write off the red glint that reflected from behind his irises. Stars, but something about that was familiar. Her poleaxed expression gave way to outright curiosity, but on Osha’s face, it looked more like a glare.

Fillik and the stranger exchanged words, agreeing on what to order. Osha observed the stranger with blatant curiosity. She wasn’t used to this whole flirting thing, as much as Fillik tried to convince her otherwise. Yet, without a single word, she’d seemed to snare this gorgeous man’s attention from across a crowded room. To Osha’s surprise, Fillik rose from the table to get the order—“I wanted to get another round anyway. Be right back.”

She’d never seen him walk so fast.

This left her alone with the stranger, who turned to her as he’d done before. Now that she thought about it, he’d never not been facing her. Even when he spoke to Fillik, he’d only turned his head a little. His entire body seemed trained on her, and she didn’t know what to do with that kind of attention.

“Osha,” he said, drawing her name out like a song and ending it on an almost-whisper. The curling smile on his lips made her wonder if he was addressing her or testing out the feel of her name on his tongue. “Do you like being a meknek?”

Startled by the question, she answered honestly. “I like being paid for it.”

This shocked a laugh out of him—throaty, deep, and warm. With his head tilted back, she got a full view of his teeth, and there was no denying it now.

Those were fangs.

But she’d been a meknek for six years now and seen all kinds of species from all sorts of places. Plenty of species have fangs, she reasoned. Carnivorous species, her instincts added. And how many of them look like humans?

Just one, she thought.

She bit back the question that threatened to spill out of her mouth, content with just watching him enjoy himself, even if she was what amused him so. In all honesty, his laugh and the sight of those fangs made a coil of desire tighten in her gut so quickly that it almost stole her breath. “What’s so funny?” she asked once she regained her composure.

“You,” he said, leaning an elbow on the table and resting his head on his fist. He no longer hid his teeth behind a smile; he grinned widely, showing off the lethal points of his canine teeth. She knew, evolutionarily, that a smile was meant to set people at ease, promising good intentions. On him, however, his smile seemed to promise something far more primal and bloody. “Most would lie or, at the very least, give a neutral answer. You, however, seem to have no problem being honest with a stranger.”

“How do you know I’m not lying? That I’m not harboring a deep passion for thrill-seeking and advanced mechanics?”

His head tilted to the side, eyes sliding back to her collarbones and back up again. She gripped her drink to keep herself from shivering. “I’d know if you were lying,” he said.

“How? Are you—” That damn word stuck in her mouth. Jedi. Even now, the memory still pained her. She shoved it away.

The stranger was kind enough not to make her finish her thought. “Your heartbeat,” he explained. “For many people, especially humans, their heart races when they lie.”

Something about how he phrased it struck a nerve, like an old memory was stirring, vying for her attention.

Just one.

His hand reached out, but he didn’t touch her. His hands were so cold, Osha could feel it from where they hovered just over her skin, just above her pulse. He didn’t need to touch her to know her heart had skipped a beat. Osha got the feeling he was more than aware of her heartbeat, even without reaching out to her.

He continued, “Some humans can fool themselves with their lies, making it harder to tell when they aren’t telling the truth.” Those ice-cold fingertips trailed over her neck, still hovering above her skin. Across her collarbone before he returned his hand to where it rested on the table.

“Then how do you tell if they’re lying?”

“It’s in their eyes.”

She looked up at him again, unaware of her wandering gaze. That crimson glint returned, strengthening and blooming behind his brown irises. In just a few heartbeats, the rich color overtook it entirely. At a glance, his eyes wouldn’t have been anything but dark, but up close like this, they were near-luminous in the way a predator’s eyes would be, lit up from the darkness.

That familiar feeling returned, this time with a name.

“You’re a vampire,” she whispered.

His head tilted back to center, and his face gave nothing away. “Does that scare you?” he asked. She caught no hint of threat or menace in his voice, just open curiosity. It was probably a deliberate choice.

“I don’t think it does,” she said with a breathy laugh. She didn’t sit back, but she didn’t rock forward either—as much as she wanted to.

“You aren’t sure if you’re scared of me?” he said, letting a trickle of amusement back into his tone.

“You say that like you want the answer to be yes,” she countered. She had no idea where this bravery and boldness came from.

“Yes or no, it doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, a mask of indifference settling in over his features.

“It does, though,” Osha insisted.

His eyes sharpened on her, flashing as red as the neon sign some twenty feet behind him. “Then answer the question, Osha. Are you scared of me?”

Her mothers had taught her about all manner of things before they died. Her and Mae’s training with the Thread had only been part of it; although they grew up sheltered, they had not grown up ignorant of the ways of the galaxy.

There are others, Mother Aniseya instructed, who are powerful and feared and hunted, like us. Those who seek power from the night, like us. Those whose power is a right by blood.

Should we fear them too? Mae asked then, inquisitive and eager.

You should fear nothing, my girls, their mother had answered with a smile. When the fearsome things that walk the darkness brush against each other, you will know them, and they will know you. You will not be afraid. The monsters who hide within the sunshine are the ones to be wary of.

She hadn’t explained what that meant at the time, nor could she now, but the look she’d given Osha felt full of meaning that only seemed to make sense at this very second.

“I’m not scared of you,” Osha said, realizing almost after the fact that she was telling the whole truth of it. Her heart still raced; would he think she was lying? The look he gave her was still indecipherable.

Objectively, she knew her mother’s guidance was meant to cultivate a child’s curiosity and encourage open-mindedness but not recklessness. After her death, the Jedi had impressed upon her just the opposite: a deep sense of caution and suspicion toward others. They also stifled her inquisitive nature. Questioning the masters at the Jedi Temple always ended in reprimand. Curious adventures into the restricted section of the Archives resulted in punishments. Her attachment and investment in the family she lost ultimately led to her expulsion from the Order. But six years had passed since, and she’d more than shaken off the rust from a decade’s worth of stifled instincts. That old recklessness had returned.

If playing with fire would burn her, at least she’d die warm.

“Was that not the answer you wanted?” she asked dryly, draining the rest of her drink while she waited for an answer.

His eyes fixated on her throat as she swallowed, giving the gaze a different connotation, but one that didn’t evoke fear—at least not in her. The vampire leaned back, his face still an inscrutable mask. He couldn’t hide his eyes from her, however. The turbulent clouds of red in his irises churned like a maelstrom in a sea of blood.

Maybe she wouldn’t burn. Maybe she’d drown by the end of this.

“I think I like your answer,” he said, allowing half a smirk.

“You only think you like it?” Osha challenged.

He gave her the rest of his smirk. “Well met, Osha.”

They stared at one another for a while, letting silence fall between them even as the crowded cantina chattered away, oblivious to what was happening. She felt a static build-up in those few inches between them—between his hand and hers, where they rested on the table. As a meknek, she was trained to be cautious of electrostatic energy. (As a human, she was taught to be cautious of any creature that wanted her blood.)

“Why did you come over here?” Osha asked.

“Why were you looking at me?” he parried.

“I asked you first.”

“I’m sure they have the same answer,” he said with another sharp grin.

Because you intrigued me. Because I wanted to know more about you. Because I felt like there was no other choice but you.

Osha dropped the matter, running her fingers along the rim of her glass. She wished Fillik would return; she was so damned awkward around strangers—

He spoke so softly that she almost didn’t catch it. “You can call me Qimir.”

A new expression had replaced the intentionally blank face he had before. Now, he looked softer around the edges, more welcoming and trustworthy. Harmless with a touch of the uncanny, but not so much as the wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing smiles he’d given before. How much of this look was real? Was this another ploy to get her guard down? Was he still trying to scare her?

Osha swallowed down her unease, remembering her mother’s advice. You will not be afraid.

So she met his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Qimir.”

His eyes crinkled up in the corners as he smiled this time, and a pulse of truth came to her in such a way that she hadn’t felt since... Since…

He wasn’t only a vampire. But the answer of what else he was seemed well out of reach.

This thrilled her even more, but some mysteries were more fun left unsolved—for now. “When you said you were looking for a bite…”

His features took on a boyish tint, teasing and playful. “I wasn’t lying,” he said. “Man’s gotta eat.”

“That he does,” she murmured, allowing herself to look at the rest of him.

His clothes were baggy and misshapen, hanging off of him in a way that hid the powerful, muscular body beneath. From this close (and the brief look she’d gotten of his forearms), he was like a coiled snake, strength radiating off of him in a way that no amount of baggy clothes could hide. Added to how he towered over her just a few minutes ago, he gave off an aura that felt genuinely intimidating. She was confident that if she stood beside him, he would seem even more imposing than before. He’d moved so silently, too; there was no outrunning him.

She pictured him and her in some dark nook of the spaceport, bathed in shadows and intertwined. His mouth at her neck, his hands wherever they wanted to be, her legs around his middle as he drank and fed—

He sucked in a sharp breath, and exhaled in a quiet groan. The noise was so deep that she could feel it in her fingertips. His expression had shifted again, the crimson in his eyes whipping around near-violently. “What?” she asked.

“What are you thinking about right now?” he asked, his voice rough and deep.

“I’m—” Osha’s face flared with heat, and she prepared to lie. But she felt that rush of blood in her ears, her heart rate kicking up—

He smirked, realizing her intent before she did.

“Nothing,” she said, just to cover her ass.

“Liar,” he smirked, one hint of fang flashing from his lips.

The sight, the reminder, brought her imagination to new heights, picturing those fangs sinking into a vein, those lush lips sealing around her skin and sucking, drawing her blood into his mouth—

“Osha,” he rasped, his voice nearly a growl. His hands flexed, and his skin was so pale that even the whites of his knuckles didn’t show. “You don’t want to play this game with me.”

“Why not?” she asked, cursing the breathy quality of her voice.

To anyone else, he would have looked relaxed. To her, she knew his composure was in tatters, that whatever control he had was fraying by the second. A brief flash of concern, of desperation, gusted through his eyes. “I am… perhaps not as well-fed as I should be.” He couldn’t meet her eyes, focusing now on her neck and collarbone.

Her heart did flips in her chest, and her recklessness reached new heights. “Does it… hurt?”

“Does what hurt?” he asked.

The hunger? The restraint? She should have said those things, but they weren’t what she told him. “The bite. Feeding.”

He sucked in a breath, held it. He’d gone so still she almost thought he’d expired right there at the table. Stars, this situation escalated quickly.

“Yes and no.”

“How—”

“In that order.”

“Oh.” Osha blinked. Yes, the bite would hurt. She’d expected so; wounds of any kind were bound to hurt, even ones you were prepared for. But feeding? The act of drinking from another… didn’t hurt? “What do you mean?” she asked, leaning in.

The crimson in his eyes settled into slow, lazy swirls. “I don’t know how it is for others, but I can make it feel like anything you want. Pain. Numbness. Pressure. Pleasure.” He said this last part with his eyes heavily hooded, desire plain on his face. “How would you like it, Osha?”

Osha had no idea what to say to him. She was, of course, curious about exactly what he meant, but some measure of caution still held her back, cold and frowning.

“Would anything happen to me?” she said, avoiding the question.

“You mean, would you turn?” he asked, a husky chuckle following. “No. Vampires are, for the most part, born—or so I know.”

“What do you mean?” she said again, frowning.

“I wasn’t raised around others of my kind. The ones who raised me, they…” A brief flare of some hot emotion gusted through his aura—something like anger. It dissipated as quickly as it came, leaving her confused and a little wary. “They didn’t know what to do with me. I’ve had to learn as I go.”

A pang of sympathy rattled her bones. Osha knew what that was like. The Jedi her age were already well-versed in topics and routines she was unfamiliar with, and it left her feeling more than a little like an outsider to them. And when the Order cast her out? She had to do it all over again, learning to be a meknek to survive.

“So, no,” he said, drawing her attention back. “Nothing would happen to you, bar perhaps symptoms of minor blood loss… among other things.”

“Other things?” she said.

He grinned, fangs out. “Fun things.”

“I don’t know if I should trust your definition of fun, Qimir,” she said, picking up her glass and sighing when she realized it was empty.

He’d frozen in place, and it took her a second to notice. She was about to ask what was wrong when he said, “I like how you say my name. More than is probably appropriate.”

She was going to pass out if her heart kept racing like this. Osha was once again speechless in the face of his brazen want, unfamiliar with the script or steps to follow here. She chewed her lip, and his eyes flicked to the gesture. The heat in her lower half only increased until she felt like she needed to squeeze her thighs together to grab some measure of composure. But that felt like a lifeboat drifting away in a stormy sea. She was going to drown in him, sooner or later.

“I…”

“Yes?”

“How badly do you need to feed?” she asked, the words slipping out almost by accident.

“Very badly,” he said simply. “Why do you ask?”

He was playing with her; he knew exactly why she was asking and was going to make her say it. The rush of embarrassment bloomed right from her cheeks, heating her entire body this time as she fought the shyness stilling her tongue. “Because I…” she swallowed. “I’m curious what it’s like.” There. Safer ground. “And a man’s gotta eat, like you said. Seems we can help each other out.”

He smirked at her but didn’t call her out. His eyes sparkled just the same as they’d done the last time she avoided the truth with him. Liar, his voice echoed in her head. The real answer—that she wanted him as desperately as he seemed to want her—refused to be spoken aloud.

“I don’t think your friend will approve,” he teased.

Oh right. Fillik.

She looked over his shoulder at the bar beyond, where Fillik sat beside someone draped in glowing green fabric. As if sensing her attention, Fillik looked over and made the hand signal for are you okay? They only ever used the code when their communicators shorted out while on jobs, but it worked well here.

Osha signed back, okay. Then, after a moment, she signed, see you later.

Fillik’s grin and double thumbs-up needed no translation.

If only he knew just what Osha was walking away with.

“Fillik’s fine,” Osha said, looking back at Qimir. He seemed oddly… charmed by the exchange.

But his demeanor changed the moment she gave her answer, eyes darkening and going a little wild. She could have sworn the crimson in his irises had bled into the whites of his eyes, but the moment passed after a beat. “Then I think we should find somewhere more private, don’t you think?”

Her heart thumped heavily in her chest, the thrill of danger sparking her senses in a way no meknek job ever would, in a way the Jedi never could. Qimir stood, offering his hand to her. She took it, marveling at the coolness of his skin touching hers. He did not let go as he led her from the cantina.

They didn’t go far, but the sharp twists and turns down the side passages of the spaceport left Osha feeling a little disoriented. When they stopped, she caught sight of a familiar landmark and a sign that would lead her back to her ship when they were finished. He pulled her into a small micro-hotel, but it didn’t look as seedy as the ones she’d seen on-world.

Apparently, he already had a room because they bypassed the reception droid entirely and went to the back. The lights were down-lit around their ankles, making him seem even more dark and imposing than he already was. When he looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes pulsed with a glow that reminded her of sunsets… and lightsabers. It stole her breath.

Then they were in a room. Alone. With no crowd to drown the silence. Just her slightly uneven breathing—and his notable lack thereof.

“You don’t breathe?” she blurted out, trepidation making the words a little louder than she intended. She winced.

Qimir let go of her hand and sat on the bed, letting his hands hang between his knees. Making himself smaller, she observed. Non-threatening. “If I didn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak,” he said, his voice coming a little higher—another tactic to draw in unsuspecting prey or to calm the suspicious. “And I do have a pulse, despite all evidence to the contrary.” He gestured at himself, most likely referring to his cold, pale skin.

“Oh,” Osha said, laughing a little.

He caught her nervousness like one might catch a butterfly from the air. “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. You can back out at any time.”

“No, it’s not—okay, it’s a—I’m a little nervous,” she admitted.

He rose to his feet, closing the distance between them. “I’m not so close to the edge that I can’t control myself, Osha,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a loc of her hair behind her ear. His eyes were everywhere, dancing their phantom touch everywhere from her face to her chest in just a heartbeat. “I know what I am. You know what I am.”

“I do,” she whispered. “And I want this.”

“I think you just need the tension broken,” he said, a teasing smirk on his features. “May I?”

She had no idea what that meant, but she discovered the answer immediately when she nodded. He descended on her, and she held her breath, expecting pain—

But she got a kiss instead. His lips were soft, and though they were cold, they weren’t unpleasant. Her mind unwound itself from the tangled, anxious knot it’d been trapped in. His hands settled on her—one at the nape of her neck, the other resting on her hip. She realized that oh, she should probably be kissing him back, and moved, reaching for him just as he deepened the kiss.

A soft noise escaped her throat when he squeezed her hip, walking her back until her shoulders met the door. He didn’t pin her, per se, but the intent was clear: he’d trapped her. And she’d let him, gladly.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, ending his question on a slight nip of her lower lip. It thrilled her, that reminder of why they were there, of what was coming.

She nodded, feeling much more settled in her skin, even though her heart was still racing. “Um, do I—?” She began to tilt her head to the side for him, but his fingers tightened against the back of her head, stilling her.

“That’s a bit… intense for your first go,” he said, sounding almost awkward about it.

“But I want—” She cut herself off, shame flaring through her veins.

He waited for her to finish her thought, but the bravery couldn’t break through to her again. “You want to know what it’s like?” he inferred. She nearly slumped in relief, nodding. Stars, but he knew just what she needed, and Osha had no idea how much she needed that kind of intuition in a partner until now.

Qimir pressed a kiss over her pulse, which ratcheted up the speed considerably until he pulled away. “So responsive,” he murmured, but she could hardly hear it over the pounding in her ears. He pulled back, and Osha almost whined at the loss of his closeness. “Why don’t I tell you what I’m going to do to you? Would that help?”

She considered it, then nodded. He brought her to the bed, sitting them both down side-by-side. “Thank you,” she said quickly. “And I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about and nothing to thank me for,” he said, leaning back in to kiss her and scatter her thoughts to the stars. “I’m a selfish man, Osha. But I’m not so selfish to look past your discomfort just to get what I want.”

She got the feeling he didn’t offer the same consideration to many others, which made her feel all shivery. A wide, cool hand pressed against her shoulder until she leaned back, laying fully on the bed beside him. He loomed over her, face half-cast in warm shadows from the lone lamp in the small room. “Why am I lying down?”

He seemed to ignore her question as he spoke. “I’m going to bite your arm first,” he said simply, but the casualness of his words made her breath hitch. “Riiight… here.” He traced his fingers over the inside of her forearm, near the elbow.

“Not my wrist?”

He shook his head. “Too many delicate little veins, bones, tendons, nerves.” He flicked a fingertip off the tip of one of his fangs. “These might do some serious damage to your hands if I’m not careful. I’m in control of my urges, but might not be as controlled about how gentle the bite would be.” He lifted her arm up, and for a moment, she thought he was going to bite her right then and there—

He pressed a cold, wet kiss over the spot he indicated, and beneath his kiss, heat rose to the surface. An ache bloomed in her belly, pulling at sensitive parts of her.

“And you’re lying down in case you pass out from the bite. As I told you, it will hurt, but not that much. Your anxiety will only make it worse, especially if it’s not what your body is expecting.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling a little silly.

He kissed her arm again, gentle despite his insistence he could not be. “Next, I’ll—”

“Bite my neck?”

“I will check if you want more,” he said firmly. His eyes flashed bright red again, serious.

The care he exhibited over her choice, her consent, and her safety made her insides feel all warm in a way she wasn’t used to. Master Sol had been concerned for her safety, but where Qimir’s care was warm, Sol’s had often been chilly and uncomfortable.

“Okay,” she whispered, squirming a little on her back. He noticed the movement, a teasing glint returning to his eyes. “What will you do after that?”

“Then, if you’ll allow it…” His hand trailed lower, brushing the side of her breast, passing her ribs, almost tickling her waist, then over her hip to rest on her thigh. “I’d like to feed from here.”

Even though his hand was cold and they had a barrier of clothes between them, she could have sworn his touch left a searing brand against her thigh. “Why there?”

“Some major arteries are down here, very active. And I’m hungry, Osha.” He didn’t elaborate, moving his hand back up her body. He brushed over the fly to her pants, fingers snagging over the bulk of her belt. She gasped and flinched, but he paid it no mind. He traced his fingertips up, up, between her breasts before his cool hand rested at the base of her throat. “And I’m selfish.”

“Wh—how is that selfish?” she asked, fighting between her desire to know and her desire to feel. He leaned down, tracing his nose over the shell of her ear.

“Because when I’m done, you’ll feel the ache in your legs with every,” he kissed her ear, “single,” a nip, “step.”

Osha couldn’t help but moan. It was embarrassingly loud, and he was hardly touching her at all, but she was certain she’d never been more turned on and ready for him.

But Qimir didn’t comment, only looking her over with that heated crimson gaze—like he expected such a reaction.

“Do you want to know what I’m going to do next?”

She nodded, swallowing hard enough to feel the brush of his hand over the base of her throat. “Please.”

At that single whispered word, the energy in the room shifted. Qimir stilled, eyes squeezing shut as a shiver rippled over him. A low groan left his lips, the breath cool against Osha’s temple. “Fuck,” he whispered, taking a ragged breath and shaking his head. His hair fell into his face, out from behind his ears. It gave him a wilder look, eyes half-hidden behind a dark veil. “Fuck,” he repeated, drawing back a little and going still.

Osha didn’t dare move. She already knew Qimir was nearing the last reserves of his control, assurances made or otherwise. But all she’d said was please, and it nearly broke him apart. His arrival at her side in the cantina had made her mouth go dry, but now, it watered—she wanted to taste him, touch him.

“Fuck, Osha,” he said a third time. He got up on his knees and laughed, though there was little humor in it. He sounded doomed from where he sat above her. “You keep thinking whatever you’re thinking right now, and I’m not going to be as gentle or as polite as I would like to be.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Can you—can you read my thoughts or something?”

His face smoothed with forced ease, and he closed his eyes before shaking his head. “A vampire’s sense of smell is very good—and I can taste how aroused you are right now. Without even seeing, without even touching. I can taste how wet you are for me, Osha.”

Her blood oscillated wildly between hot and cold, the realization that his reaction back in the cantina had been because of—? Oh, shit. She was at once mortified by being so laid bare, thrilled by the acknowledgment of his predatory nature, and insanely turned on by his ease in talking about her desire. His were the hands of a dangerous man, but she was in good hands nonetheless.

“Sorry,” she whispered, chewing her lip again.

His hand lifted from her neck for his thumb to press down on her lip, freeing it from her teeth. “That’s my job,” he admonished, surprisingly soft. It made her heart flip in her chest once more. “So—” he took a breath, steadying himself. “Only after I’ve taken from your arm and your thigh, that’s when I’ll take from your neck.”

“Why?”

“The neck is quite the erogenous zone, Osha.” He brushed his fingers over her pulse, which tickled, but more than that, it set her trembling. “The nerves there are much more sensitive than the other places I mentioned. And therefore, the feeling you’d get from me feeding would be… heightened.”

“Heightened?” she asked weakly.

He did not explain. All he did was nod.

Fun things, she remembered him saying. Fun things would happen to her.

“That, and drinking from the neck is one of the most primal things I could do. You baring your neck to me… it both sates and encourages that part of me to give in to those instincts. I could kill you, drain you dry if I drank here first.” He almost sounded saddened by it, which was odd.

Osha brought her hand up to his wrist and wrapped her fingers around it. He watched her, fascinated by her curiosity. Osha traced her thumbs over his hand and pressed his fingers flat and open before she leaned up to kiss the center of his palm.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay?” He swallowed roughly, eyes flickering over her face again.

“I think I like your plan.”

He smirked. “Oh, you think you—”

“Shut up,” she groaned, reaching up to pull him in by the back of his neck. Their kiss was more heated than before. For all his bloodless skin chilled her, he possessed a fire in his flesh that did not dissipate and did not waver after the initial rush of feeling.

When she was certain her heart wouldn’t beat out of her chest, she said his name. It brought him back up, and she traced how his lips had grown a little darker, the shade of old bruises. He looked obscene like this, truly rumpled and fueled by want. “Yes?” he whispered, breathing quickly.

“Do it.”

His pupils dilated sharply, almost to the point where the crimson in his irises disappeared entirely. A heartbeat passed, then he leaned down and bit her exactly where he said he would.

Instantaneous burning pain slashed at the pleasure his kiss and touch had brought, setting her body rigid on the bed beneath him. He did not stop, even at the tight whimper that escaped her. At the stomach-flipping sensation of him withdrawing his fangs from her, she made another weak noise, wondering if this had all been a mistake—

But then his mouth touched down next, encompassing the bite mark wholly. Both his hands cradled her arm like something precious, something fragile. There was a bit of pressure—then release. She couldn’t help the wild moan at the new sensation, her surprise warring with the wanton waves of pleasure his mouth was giving her. She felt her eyes cross a little until the shock waned. Phew. Don’t pass out.

He remained hunched over her, on all fours across her vulnerable form. Once she steadied her breathing, she could hear the little noises he was trying to hide. Small whimpers and whines, near-animalistic against her skin. His noises rippled through her bones, resonating with her like a tuning fork pressed against her skull. Her hand moved without warning, pushing up through his hair and grabbing hold at the root. He made a small, distressed noise—

But she did not pull him off. She pushed him closer, feeling his lips slip against her arm even as he drank. His whines turned to moans, and his shallow breaths turned to deeper, harsher breaths than before.

Stars, if this was how it felt on her arm, how was it going to feel on her neck?

He seemed to have found himself again after some time—how long, she had no idea. The whole room had gotten a little fuzzy and sparkly, stars dancing against her skin. Qimir dragged his tongue over the bite, which stung a little in the cooler air once he let go.

Because Qimir had grown warmer since drinking from her—or she’d grown cooler. But her first guess was correct. He turned around to face her, and she saw the flush of blood high on his cheekbones, of life in his features.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice wet and raspy. Idly, his thumb brushed over the wound, but she wasn’t focusing on that. She could only see the dark red of her blood staining his teeth, his tongue.

She blinked a few times, processing that he was speaking to her. “Yeah. Holy shit,” she laughed. “I’m okay.”

Something soft and almost distressed fluttered through his features when she laughed, like he didn’t know what to do all of a sudden.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He seemed just as stunned as she’d been by the question. “Good.”

“Still hungry?” she asked. His eyes traced down her body and rested on the place he’d planned to go next. She went for her belt—

“Let me.” He stilled her hands, and while he wasn’t blazing warm, the difference was notable. “Please.”

Her whole body jerked at that single word, and shit, she understood why he’d been so affected earlier when she said it. The amount of desire that could fit into a single syllable was fucking astounding, and she had no idea why she was so affected. She let her hands fall to the side, wondering what, if anything, she wouldn’t do when he said please like that.

Her belt clinked a little as he undid it, and then the fly of her trousers. She cursed when he tugged them down, only for the blousing straps to get caught in her boots. She leaned up to help and was hit with a wave of dizziness that had the room spinning. “Whoa.”

“Lay back down,” Qimir ordered, planting his hand on her breastbone. She complied, and the dizziness abated. He did the work for her, taking off her boots and pants with shocking gentleness—he’d really meant it when he said he could control himself. That taste he took from her arm had done wonders.

“What does—” she bit off the question she’d been about to ask again. Qimir needed to eat, and she kept delaying that.

“Don’t do that,” he murmured, lips pressing against her knee. His eyes were a much warmer shade now, bright scarlet in the lamplight. She was unable to look away. “You can ask me anything you want, Osha.”

She took a shuddering breath and blamed her courage on the funny feelings his bite had given her.

“What does my blood taste like?”

He traced his nose over her thigh, lost in thought as he considered her answer. “I won’t feed you some bullshit line about it tasting like sunshine and fresh snow,” he said dryly, looking up at her with a half-grin. “Blood tastes like blood.”

“Oh,” she said, about to feel silly again—

“But the warmth of it… it burned at first. Like drinking tea when it’s too hot. Scalding.” His thumb brushed little circles over her thigh, and he sunk down to sit on his heels between her thighs. It felt like an entirely inappropriate place to sit and have a think, but he seemed comfortable, so she didn’t say anything. She leaned up on her elbows as he continued. “And then, the longer I drank, the warmer my body became, and the more I could enjoy it. Enjoy you. And your warmth… it tastes like life. It tastes like the only light in a vast, cold darkness.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say more, but instead, he pressed his face against the inside of her thigh. For a few long minutes, he stayed there, just breathing her in. This close to where he knew she was wet and aching, she could only imagine what was running through his mind—or if her scent and taste stilled those thoughts in their tracks.

She put her hand back on his head, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging him forward. “You promised me another bite, and you’re still hungry,” she said. When had her voice gotten so husky and sensual?

He shuddered, moving where she wanted with no resistance. His throat bobbed as she pulled him back, exposing his own neck to her. His eyes sparkled with intrigue, like she was a wonder. “I did. I am.”

“So do something about it.”

“But you’re hungry, too,” he said, fighting her hold so he could level a look at her. She felt like she was wearing nothing beneath that gaze, like his hot stare had incinerated every bit of clothing left on her. “An appetite for something you can’t eat… but can fill you anyway.”

His fingers danced up her inner thigh, rubbing longingly over the darker veins beneath her skin before moving up and up and—

Osha jolted when his thumb pressed against the soaking-wet material of her underwear. “Can I feed you too, Osha?” he asked, that damned thumb moving in slow, precise little circles exactly where she needed from him.

She was seconds from making a mixing business and pleasure joke, but those words caught in her throat, leaving her only able to nod furiously. Qimir’s eyes flicked down to where his hand was splayed over her hip, just his thumb touching her indecently. He turned his hand and teased his fingers beneath the wet fabric. She held back her moan as his knuckles brushed over her aching core, where she needed him most.

“I don’t want to hear you holding back another fucking breath from me, Osha.” His eyes were suddenly ablaze, locked on hers. “Understand?”

She nodded, but at the increased intensity of his stare, she found her words again. “Yes, I understand,” she squeaked.

“Good.”

With that, he dove in. He pulled her underwear to the side, which made everything seem that much dirtier and taboo as he licked and sucked at her with abandon. True to her word, she didn’t hold back, grasping at his hair and practically shouting his name. The pleasure she’d gotten from him feeding on her was a strange, full-body kind of ache, like she was drowning in it. This pleasure, by comparison, was brutal, a crueler death than the other.

Burning and drowning.

He never stopped moving, not when he slipped one of those long, cool fingers inside her and not when her hips couldn’t help but rock up against his hand. She felt unbridled, chasing after an end she couldn’t see. But he guided her there nonetheless, never restraining her even once. He drew back after some time, sucking his finger into his mouth before returning his touch with another finger inside her. Osha moaned, settling into the rhythm and rolling against his hand.

Fuck, this was the best idea ever.

Qimir pressed his cheek against her thigh, just watching how his fingers moved in and out of her, seeing and feeling the way she grew tighter around him when he touched her just right. He was nearly locked in a trance, like he could spend the rest of his life just watching her fall apart from his touch.

She (barely) had the ability to speak a string of words that made any sense. “Qimir… please… c’mon, you said…”

Okay, maybe sense was stretching it.

Qimir caught her meaning, checking with her to make sure she wasn’t at risk of passing out for one reason or another. The bite on her arm wasn’t bleeding for whatever reason, and she wanted to know what it felt like with his teeth so close to where he had his hands. Wordlessly, he drew her leg up and over his shoulder, pressing his face against her thigh again as his attention caught on the way she seized up around his fingers suddenly. “Nervous?” he asked, his voice all throaty and rough.

“I won’t be if you just—”

He struck, sharp fangs sinking into her once more. The burning had felt all-consuming from the bite on her arm, but this time, it warred with the pleasure he was giving her just inches away. Instead of one drowning out the other, they intertwined in a song, leaving her ears ringing as she gasped for breath.

He pulled his fangs out and repeated the process anew, pulling her blood into his mouth with a helpless moan. He rolled his whole body against her, tongue coaxing out more and more of her blood as his fingers took up their rhythm once more. The waning effects of his first bite surged in, cranked to a higher intensity than before. The leg not around his shoulder shook as ecstasy began encroaching on her senses.

“Fuck, fuck—!” Osha’s voice broke when he pulled her over the edge. It felt like nothing she’d tried by herself in the privacy of her bunk and even less like anything she’d tried with a partner. She was certain she was hurting him, pulling at his hair like she was, but nothing could get her to let go until the pleasure abated.

And still, he drank.

She gave a weak whimper. “Fuck,” she said a third time. “You’re so good,” she whined.

Qimir gave a groan in return, and a deeper, subtler rocking motion joined his hand and his mouth. Fuck, he must have been grinding his hips against the side of the bed. She relinquished her hold on his hair to pet him gently, smoothing the strands out of his eyes and holding them back so she could see him better.

Red eyes lolled over to her in his first graceless move of the night. He seemed drunk, caught between watching her, fingering her, and drinking from her thigh. “So good,” she whispered again, brushing her thumb over his temple. His eyes closed, a furrow forming between his brows. She had no time to be concerned before he licked over the bite with his wet tongue. It left a smear of red behind on her skin, which he lapped at repeatedly until all traces of her blood had been consumed.

He gently slipped his fingers from her. That bone-deep ache had been abated somewhat from her orgasm, but his hand was nowhere near enough for what she truly wanted, what she needed. Qimir rested against her thigh again. His hair fell into his eyes, forcing her to focus on his lips. He licked them almost compulsively, like he had to ensure that every drop of her taste was safe behind his teeth.

“You—you okay?” he asked, his breath catching in the middle of his sentence.

She was. There was no wooziness, only the warm embrace of post-orgasm bliss. “I’m perfect,” she said, giving in and running her fingers through his hair again. It was thicker than it looked, and much softer than it had any right to be. He pressed into her hand like a cat, eyes still closed. “Are you alright? You seem…”

“Drunk?” he asked, cracking an eye open. A languid, bloodstained smile crept across his lips as he looked at her. “Yeah. Feels like it, a little. Might be the F—fucking incredible taste of you.” He brushed his thumb over the bite on her thigh before rising up with a soft groan.

His stumbling words almost concerned her were it not for the clearly straining bulge in his pants. Slowly, she sat up before him, nearly face-to-face with his erection.

While he just… stood there. He watched her with a slightly confused look on his face. There it was again, like he was puzzling her out or something.

“What?” she asked, unable to summon the sharp, defensive bite of her words this time.

“Nothing,” he sighed, reaching down to cup her face. His face followed, but he stopped himself just before he kissed her. The hesitation was clear; he didn’t know if she wanted to try the taste of herself—her pleasure or her blood.

Osha decided for him, pulling him in again as they both fell back against the bed. She moaned at the tangy, sharp taste on his lips and tongue. She didn’t feel the same way he did, about the warmth and the light in the darkness. Instead, she only tasted something wild and powerful. He caged himself around her, still fully dressed while she remained naked from the waist down. He probably did so for her comfort, knowing the chill of his body wouldn’t feel very nice. The consideration made her feel… safe. What a paradox to feel safe for the first time in years in the arms of a deadly apex predator.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked after some time, nosing beneath her jaw but making no attempt to continue his plans—that third bite he promised her.

“Nothing,” she sighed. Normally, such an admission would be met with skepticism, as that kind of answer to that kind of question was most often a lie. But this time, it was the truth. Nothing was on Osha’s mind. Not her worries about making ends meet, not her surviving grief over her family, not her remaining anger and frustration at the hand the Jedi dealt her. All that bitterness and anxiety had been safely swept aside. “Nothing at all.”

Qimir chuckled, the sound warm and soul-deep. “I believe you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple. This, of all the kisses and touches he’d given, felt the most intimate of all.

“Am I still bleeding from the… from the bites?” she asked, curious to look but unable to do so with a huge vampire lying atop her.

He shook his head, his hair tickling her nose. She scowled at the feeling and only received a teasing smile in return. “I have some measure of influence over that. More than just how you’d feel from the act, I can control the wound itself. If I wanted you to keep bleeding, you would. But, no. I wanted you to heal.” I wanted to take care of you, she imagined him saying next, though not a single word of that passed his lips.

“Can all vampires do that?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Maybe some.”

“Thank you,” she said, reaching up to trace over the muscles and tendons in his neck. He was truly a masterpiece, and the more she ran her hands over his torso, the more she found she was right. He was absolutely fit beneath those baggy clothes, all rippling muscles and tight skin.

“Don’t mention it,” he said softly. Some emotion flashed through his eyes, and she didn’t know him well enough to even guess at it.

Qimir pressed his forehead against hers, and Osha was startled by how warm he’d gotten. “Do you… how often do you need to feed?” she asked, curious. How long had it been, for him to get to the desperate point he’d been?

He kept his eyes closed as he answered her question. “Ideally? Every two weeks, and just the amount you gave me from your arm.”

Concern lanced through her. Shit, it must have been a long time. She couldn’t imagine starving like that.

“But you don’t need to worry about me, Osha.” He pressed a kiss to her lips again, then gently tilted her head this way and that. “Have a preference for which side?” he asked, playful once more. He reminded her of a big cat, both prowling predator and playful in spades.

“Whichever one seems tastiest,” she said, letting her hand fall from his hair and trace down his spine.

His body stiffened the moment she touched some irregular bump over the deep groove of his spinal column. She withdrew her hand and left it to rest on his shoulder instead, getting the hint easily enough. He relaxed once her hand moved, but he was still all coiled muscle, the predator beneath his skin rising to meet her again.

“They both seem tasty,” he said, pressing his face into the crook of her left shoulder. She shuddered, latent full-body pleasure still coursing through her. It kicked up a notch at the press of his lips to her pulse point.

She didn’t realize what she was doing until Qimir stopped mouthing at her neck and stilled against her. With his thigh between her legs, it proved the perfect place for her to rock back and forth against him. It was firm, unyielding to her desperate search for pleasure.

“Need more, greedy girl?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in his chest. She pictured dark rainclouds, a flash of lightning, rolling thunder. She shuddered and couldn’t even summon the urge to be embarrassed at how she was acting.

“Ple—” He silenced her with a kiss, moving his thigh away to bring his hand back to her center. “No,” she pouted. “I need more than that.”

He looked delighted to hear that. “More?” he asked again. “You sure you can handle more?”

“Yes, damn it,” she said, squirming again.

Suddenly, his hand jerked away, taking with it the shredded remains of her underwear. “Was getting in the way,” he said with a shrug.

Qimir rose up on his knees between her legs, deftly undoing the clasps at his pants and pushing them down. He was rough with himself compared to how gentle he’d been when he took her boots and pants off earlier.

He was hard and thick, and the head of his cock was a blushed, dark pink. Her mouth watered, arousal spiking once more, even after all he’d done to appease her hunger. One-handed, he stroked himself, watching her watch him. “You sure you can handle more?”

She gave him a scathing glare that silenced him but didn’t stop him from grinning at her. Even now, the sight of his fangs still inspired her heart to flip in her chest. Would she ever tire of it?

After tonight, she’d have to. Their ship was set to leave tomorrow, and she had to be there when it did. He didn’t.

Not letting that thought dissuade her from having a good time, she just nodded. “I want it. I want you to fuck me while you feed from my neck.”

A full-body shiver raced up his body, making his shoulders tense somewhat. What she couldn’t see before was now apparent: deep shadows raced beneath his skin, black veins pulsing with some dark energy as he fought it back for control. “Can’t say things like that,” he bit out, swallowing roughly.

“I wouldn’t have to say it if you’d just do it,” she argued.

Crimson eyes met hers, nearly glowing in the low light. The primal survival instinct in the back of her mind was screaming for her to run as fast as she could, but Osha didn’t give a fuck. She had what she wanted right in front of her.

“I’m fed enough to think straight now, but if I do—that, I might snap.”

Osha wondered briefly at what she’d really be losing if she died fucking a sexy vampire. A few knick-knacks in her bunk. A few friends who don’t understand her. Grief. Anger. Sadness. All in all, not much.

“I might snap if you don’t get inside me right fucking now, Qimir.”

He pounced. His hands were suddenly everywhere, just like she imagined back in the cantina. He grabbed at her, pulling her closer and closer into his body until there was no space left between them. It took just a few inches of adjustment for her to get exactly what she wanted from him.

His mouth hung open some when he sank into her, fangs glinting wetly in the low light. “Fuck, Osha,” he gasped, shuddering. Just like his fingers and mouth, his cock was cooler than she was, sending a shocking contrast of feeling through her veins.

Osha moaned, half her body confused by the sensation and the other half eager for him to sink another part of him inside her. She reached for him as he came down, hips starting to roll against her in smooth, deep strokes that had her practically gasping. He was thick, thought-stealingly thick. The noise she made wasn’t remotely coherent, echoing those twin feelings of confusion and lust as he fucked her.

“If I—if I’m taking too much…” he panted, looking down at her with fevered, scarlet eyes. “You fight me. You punch and bite and pull at me. You use whatever—whatever you need to get me off of you.”

She couldn’t form words but nodded at him.

He struck like a viper, fangs sinking into her neck like they were always meant to be there. Osha screamed, half-ecstasy, half-agony. Even when he pulled his fangs out of her and began to feed from her neck, she couldn’t keep quiet. Her moans were almost panicked from how amazing she felt. He was right; this was nothing like when he fed from her arm or even from her thigh. She couldn’t escape it this time, not when he was fucking her this deep and drawing her blood down his throat like it held the answers to the universe.

Her second orgasm took her by surprise. The third, hot on its heels, threatened to devastate her. After that, she lost count, lost in a roiling tide of pleasure as he took and took and took—and wasn’t that all she wanted? To be wanted enough to give herself over like this. Tears ran down the sides of her face, the ecstasy and fulfillment coalescing into an incredible crescendo.

Black and white dots burst in her vision, reminding her of meteor showers and lightspeed. Qimir shuddered against her, groaning into her skin, into her veins. With a sob, she felt another orgasm crash over her, overwhelming and ceaseless. She had no control of herself like this, and for half a second, she truly didn’t care if he drained her dry. Having known this pleasure, she could die right now, happier than she’d ever been in her life.

But he seemed to have found control, licking over the wound in her neck. His hand slid behind her neck to angle her head to him, and he paused just to look at the bite mark, marveling at it and brushing his thumb over it like it’d disappear. While her arm throbbed and her thigh ached like he said it would, her neck seemed to pulse with that lasting heat and pain, juxtaposing the pleasure his bite had brought.

Osha was boneless as he pulled out of her, feeling messy but unable to care at the moment. She closed her eyes as he wiped away her tears, sweat, and any evidence of their pleasure. His motions were so gentle, they were almost sweet. When he lay down beside her, arms curled around her, she had no more tears to cry—but he’d cause no more tears tonight.

His chin rested atop her head as they embraced, and for the longest time, neither moved. Her first words came out as a wretched croak. “You’re warm.”

Qimir chuckled, and she felt it against her cheek. His heart still thudded unnaturally slow behind his ribs, but he was warm and solid and real. That’s what mattered. “Thanks to you.”

He didn’t sound drunk, as he’d been after feeding on her thigh. He instead sounded… level. Satisfied. Full.

He spoke after they rested a while longer. “Don’t do anything too strenuous for a day or two while your body replenishes its blood.”

“Yes, doctor,” she grumbled, laying back down with him.

His laugh was softer now, carrying another feeling that tried to press itself into her mind. The Force had been good at telling her what others felt, but she hadn’t been connected to the Force in some time. It was probably just some post-coital haze.

Qimir murmured something to her, stroking his fingers over her shoulder. But Osha was too comfortable to concentrate, and dozed off.

He was packing up a bag when she woke. He’d put her pants back on, sans underwear, and even laced up her boots for her. He looked over when she stirred, taking inventory of her body. “Feeling okay?” he asked.

She supposed this was where he asked her to leave, yet the embarrassment didn’t rise to her cheeks like it normally would. “Yeah,” she said softly.

Then she cursed, the rest of the galaxy coming crashing back into her awareness at once. “Fuuuuck—” she groaned and checked her chrono. “Oh, thank fuck. I have an hour.”

“Don’t wanna miss movement,” he said, teasing. But he felt a little more closed off than he’d been before. He looked completely different than he’d been when they met. Gone was the deathly pale, starving vampire. Like this, he just looked like… well, a man.

His eyes were brown again. She didn’t know why this was the most disappointing part.

“Yeah,” she said, chewing at her lip.

He was in front of her in a heartbeat, moving so fast she didn’t even have time to flinch before he thumbed her lower lip away from her teeth. “That’s my job,” he said, his voice a quiet, fond murmur. When his hand turned, she pressed her cheek against it.

“Still warm,” she smiled up at him, gladdened by his lack of remorse over this whole… thing.

“Thank you, Osha,” he said, sounding slightly grave. “You’ve done me a great service.”

“Yeah, well. Ditto.” Ah, there was the embarrassment and shyness. Right on schedule. “Uh, if you…”

She trailed off, and he raised an eyebrow at her. She remembered the fervent order he’d given her before.

I don’t want to hear you holding back another fucking breath from me.

Her mouth went dry all at once, desire sparking beneath her skin. “If you wanna catch a bite in a few weeks, just look me up. We’re at this port a lot, I mean.” It felt overly familiar, attached in a way Master Sol would have chastised her for. But Master Sol wasn’t here.

Qimir leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss that stole any remaining thoughts from her mind, leaving nothing but…

Peace.

“I’ll find you,” he said, far too soft for what this was. But Osha allowed it, leaning into his touch until it was gone.

When she opened her eyes, she was alone.

Two weeks later

“I hope you guys can hear me,” Osha said to Pip, waiting for the merchant to hand her the long black shawl.

She had to pretend to be Mae, which was lying, thereabouts. For whatever reason, the racing of her heart felt like an omen. Something else pulsed beneath her skin, a feeling she had avoided acknowledging until then. She’d reached out to the Force back on the prison transport, but that had been fruitless. Even so, the closer she drew to the apothecary, the worse that feeling got, pulsing in three places in particular.

Heart pounding, she stepped in. She didn’t even see the man in the open doorway as she said, “Hello?”

But when he looked up, she felt her mouth go as dry as it’d done the first time he spoke to her.

It looked like she had found him.

Qimir grinned, half-smug and half-dangerous. “Hello.”

masterlist

#unhingery #oshamir #oshamir fanfiction #qimir x osha #the acolyte fanfiction #the acolyte

44 notes · View notes

uzumaki-rebellion · 4 months ago

Text

"Tethered to You" Chapter 3

Masterlist HERE.

youtube

"It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm

We can roll ourselves over 'cause we're uncomfortable

Oh well, the devil makes us sin

But we like it when we're spinning in his grip

Love is like a sin, my love

For the ones that feel it the most

Look at her with her eyes like a flame

She will love you like a fly will never love you again"

Massive Attack – "Paradise Circus"

Qimir guided the sleek Exile II onto an obsidian wave-cut platform in the middle of the night off the coast of his own personal island retreat. The tide was out and the uneven rocky land bridge that led to his secret cave was visible by starlight. He'd be able to carry Osha into his hideaway right away. She would have to get acclimated quickly on her own before he had to fly out again to meet his Master in person for a few days. On his return, he would begin her training. Sitting in the cockpit he looked at his hands. They quivered with the overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

He found his true acolyte.

Closing his eyes, he rested his body and mind, becoming calm enough to luxuriate in the winning of Osha's trust to come with him. The inhospitable cold outside seeped into the starship. He flexed his fingers to keep them warm. Nights by the sea often brought a stinging pain, enough to split tender skin and make it bleed. He tapped a button on his display to keep heat inside Osha's cockpit for a few minutes longer. He needed time to decompress from the long flight.

Mae had been a failure.

Qimir had just been a means to an end for the other twin. She didn't look far beyond the killing of the four Jedi. Revenge was enough with her shortsightedness, and although she desired for him to be her true Master, Mae lacked the passion and follow-through to see the bigger picture: Destruction of all Jedi.

Osha? Well, she had the passion and inner will to do more damage than Mae could ever dream of. He flicked a switch to get a visual on Osha in the dual cockpit on the opposite side. She slept for the majority of the trip, mentally exhausted from her ordeal on Brendok. Once they broke away from the planet fleeing directly to his uncharted one using the hyperdrive, she shut down completely. He didn't speak to her or offer words of comfort. She had to eat her pain the way he had to a long, long, time ago. Betrayal was a hell of a thing to endure, but at least she didn't have to make peace with it. He would help her cultivate that pain into power. His hands, that were much older than they looked, finally stopped shaking from the adrenaline rush of securing a lifelong prize.

The moonless sky hid them against the icy black waters of the sea. A sharp whistling of the wind outside produced a soothing Aeolian tone against the protective cockpit canopy. From high above, the Exile II would look like a simple sea-stack on top of more black-gray slabs. The starship blended into the surroundings and they were safe for now. No doubt the Jedi would interrogate Mae and plot to use her to find them. He wasn't worried. His mind-wipe would keep the holier-than thou's scrambling back in the Jedi Grand Temple on Coruscant.

He glanced at Osha's sleeping image. Deep breathing. No eyelids moving with dreams.

The dark force was heavy in her. How many endless decades had he searched for his perfect one? He had traversed across the vastness of space and time, and now that he had her, the real work could begin. Training her to be his other half. He wanted the power of two and Osha would give it to him.

His dick almost got hard thinking of all the damage they would bring to the galaxy. Two orphans tossed away by the Jedi would become the architects of their destruction. He grinned reveling in the pleasure of the thought.

The tide began to turn back joined by the curtain of thick white fog creeping across the horizon. It would swallow the land bridge and them in an icy shroud if he didn't move soon. He shut the starship down completely and climbed out of the left side cockpit. His windswept hair became slightly wet from the spray of saltwater tossing foamy liquid across the rocks. Osha remained in her deep slumber. He carefully made his way to her side and popped open her cockpit canopy using the Force. Holding his right hand outstretched, he focused his power on Osha and lifted her with his mind. She floated like a limp ragdoll high into the air and he guided her down into his arms. He nestled her head gently in the crook of his neck. Her hair smelled like something sugary and sweet he remembered eating as a youngling on Coruscant. The sea already added its brakish scent to the damp locs that tickled his chin. She seemed almost weightless and felt tiny in his arms, but the power within that compact frame pulsed around her aura. He lowered his face to smell her hair once more.

She was his.

He would nurture her mentally back to health first before crafting the proper regimine for her training. Seawater sloshed across his inky black boots. His cape and body heat kept her warm while he marched across the wet rocky bridge toward his hidden abode.

The uncharted planet he lived on was mostly rocky terrain of chained islands with large veins of cortosis in some places that he mined for himself and turned into the metal to craft his helmet and gauntlet. Fortunately there was an abundance of food sources in the ocean and on land with plenty of fresh water to survive. Because it was uncharted, it became a safe pocket of refuge for others who didn't want to be found. Scattered across thousands of miles of archipelago were a few folks of ill repute, but everyone kept to themselves except for those occasions when they visited a rough-hewn set of humans who ran a modest bar/watering hole on the largest landmass on the planet. It was a place to gather intergalactic supplies and Intel discreetly. A place he would have to visit in a day or two.

His home was carved from a large rock mass near the sea. He claimed the abandoned property for himself two decades previous and his Master approved. He found the original owner dead and petrified like wood at the entrance as if it had been dead for centuries. Qimir fixed it up with modern fixtures turning it into a lab of sorts. Solitude and privacy was his and stepping through his front door, the interior lights automatically came on based on his biometrics.

The interior was chilly enough for him to see his breath as puffs of condensation vapor. He carried Osha to his full-sized bed. The top blanket was rumpled but the sheets were clean. He placed her on it and unfastened her boots. Her outer clothing would help keep her warm until he had the cave at a suitable temperature. He fumbled with her body to get her tucked under the covers without waking her. She curled into the fetal position. Pulling the covers over her shoulder he paused to watch her slumber.

Osha had delicate full features and still looked fierce in her sleep. He sat at the edge of the bed and let his eyes take in her relaxed state. She would sleep for a long time once her body fully settled into its new environment. He knew this. It would be a deep down in the bones sleep from shedding the weight of her past. He used his index finger to push back the front of her bangs to see her forehead. She didn't have the spiral pale marking on her forehead that Mae did. His finger lingered on her skin before touching one of her individual locs. Firm, yet soft, it felt like the thick yarn that made the heavy sweaters he wore during winter inside the cave. On his planet it was nearing fall. Luckily, Mae left enough clothing and grooming supplies behind that Osha could use until he went out for full supplies again. He bent down to sniff the scent of her hair once more and she stirred in her sleep. He froze, fearing she would wake up and find him hunched over her like some pervert. Distance. Give her space.

He moved away from the bed and shucked off his damp cape and outer layers, hanging them on a rack near the entrance. Untying his boots he scanned his living space for anything out of order. Scavengers often flew to the planet, but none dared to bother him in that area. At least not yet.

His cave smelled of salt, damp bedrock and sea foam. The tide brought in waves that crashed against the rocks below them. He would sleep pretty well himself once he made a pallet on the floor. First task was to make a fire and he grabbed wood and kindling from the stack against the wall where he prepared his meals. Tangled fishing nets waited for his mending on the floor in the corner. He'd need to fish and collect more food in the morning.

With a good amount of wood stacked next to the deep fire pit surrounded by heavy obsidian sandstone rocks that were great heat conductors, he built a fire . He layered the wood in a pyramid shape first, placing enough tinder at the top to make the fire last all night. Qimir stared at the tinder and it burst into flames. He glanced behind him. Osha still slept. He wondered if she already knew the power of pyrokenesis.

He stood near the fire in the middle of the cave to make sure it burned evenly. Light gray smoke rose up and out of the ventilation he made in the cave's roof. Holding his hands out, he warmed his palms and rotated his neck to knock out stiffness. He reached for some dried fragrant sea moss and tossed it on the fire. The scent of the sea rose up and gave him tranquility in the moment. Clarity.

He peeled off the rest of his clothes until he was naked and distributed them with his outer layers to dry near the fire. There was a chest full of clothing across from his bed in the back and he padded there barefoot on the clean earthen floor to retrieve soft beige trousers that always hung low on his hips. He pulled them on near the bed, keeping his eye on Osha as he tied the drawstrings. She'd rolled over onto her back with her hair in disarray across her cheek. The scent of sea moss finally reached the rear of the cave and so did the slow transfer of heat.

Qimir wandered over to his fresh water supply inside an ancient wooden barrel. He ladled a glass and the refreshing coolness pulled a groan of satisfaction from his throat. Exalted from his journey, he smiled as drops of water fell from his moist lips. He pulled a piece of seasoned jerky meat out from his dry food cabinet and settled on a bench in front of the fire with his front facing Osha. The plans running through his head for her wouldn't let him relax fully by the fire. How could he when the ultimate gift was in front of him? Secure inside a cave no one from her world would find.

"Oh-shaaa," he said softly into the fire.

She moaned in her sleep. He gazed at her form on the bed.

She had to consent to everything he wanted each step of the way. His seduction of her on the island before had been slow and deliberate. It helped that she was already physically attracted to him, but her fragile state would have her questioning every move he made from here on out. He was a master manipulator and could seduce anyone easily; her sister had been proof of that. But Osha? She was a woman who had been deceived to the core of her being. There was no way she would fully trust him even though she accepted his offer to train with him. Physical seduction wouldn't work on her the same way. He had to capture her mind first. It meant he was pushing her to do what he wanted, however nothing would stick unless she said yes to him. And yes to him again, and again…and again.

He steepled his fingers together and held them under his chin. How far could he push her? Would she buckle and run like Mae did? That would anger him. The longer she stayed in close proximity to him, the more potent their connection in the Force would be. Their bond would intertwine and grow stronger over time. He had to admit that it chilled and thrilled him to the bone to watch her burn all of her anger and grief and pure unadulterated rage into the cracked hilt of Sol's lightsaber, bleeding the kyber crystal into crimson fury. Chilled him even more when she force-choked her former Master and father-figure to death. She was sublime. Ripe for the plucking.

Now he had her.

He would mold her.

Teach her.

"Mae!"

Osha's shriek wrenched his eyes away from the crackling heat of the fire. She bolted up from her sleep and glanced around in fear.

"You're okay Osha," he said moving toward her slowly, "you've had a bad dream. You're safe. Mae will be fine."

Fiery eyes took him in and he knelt down next to the bed.

"We're safe on my island. In my home. You need rest…shh…lay back."

Red weepy eyes stared at him with so much anguish. Wracked with sobs, Osha flung herself on the opposite side of the bed and wept into the soft pillows within her grasp. Her entire body convulsed in agony and he couldn't allow her to suffer alone like that.

Qimir crawled onto the bed and spooned around her. She jabbed his chest with her elbow.

"Get away from me! Don't touch me…don't you touch me!"

Her voice cracked and she wailed, still flinging her arm back to cause him pain too. He stayed still and let her release the first wave of pain until she was spent and nearly lost her ability to speak from all the crying.

"You will use this, Osha. There is power in pain—"

"Shut up! Shut your mouth! I don't want to hear anything…I don't want to hear your voice!"

She held her body in a rigid ball and wept for an hour. He simply stayed next to her making sure she didn't hurt herself like he tried to do once. The fire heated the cave up and it appeared to settle Osha into warm comfort. He reached out a hand and touched her shoulder. She didn't resist the touch, nor did she scream at him.

"It's not fair," she whimpered, "He took everything away from me and lied to my face for sixteen years. They took away the only people who ever truly loved me and my sister."

Her voice had a despondent tone he had never heard from her before. It sounded like giving up. Qimir wrapped a muscular arm across her waist and snuggled against Osha's back, pouring all of his warmth and strength into her.

"Sleep, Osha. I am here for you. Always. Remember that."

She cried softly through the night and he held her close, listening to her profound despair until she fell back into a pitiful sleep. The icy wind howled outside, but they were warm and cozy together.

He never left her side until the sun rose.

Chapter 4 HERE.

A.N.:

Look at me me posting a day ahead of my Friday Schedule! Enjoy!

#The Acolyte #Oshamir #Star Wars #Oshamir Fanfiction #Uzumaki Rebellion #Qimir #osha aniseya #osha x qimir

36 notes · View notes

mousedroid087 · 3 months ago

Text

Yord gives such Ross Geller energy in all of the fics I’m so here for it

#ross geller hater #the acolyte #oshamir #star wars #qimir #osha aniseya #osha x qimir #manny jacinto #qimir the acolyte #amandla stenberg #renew the acolyte #yord the acolyte #yord fandar #oshamir fanfiction #oshamir fanfic #star wars fanfiction #fanfic

20 notes · View notes

romavitae · 4 months ago

Text

heard the acolyte has been cancelled, i guess i'll meet you guys here

#this was in my drafts and i forgot to post it lol #the acolyte #star wars #qimir #osha #osha aniseya #oshamir #ao3 #fanfiction

296 notes · View notes

windfalling · 5 months ago

Text

THE FALL [1/5]

"You can unlearn what was taught to you," The Stranger said, his voice almost gentle. "We will do it together." Osha discovers her strength in the Force with The Stranger to guide her.

#oshamir #osha x qimir #osha aniseya #qimir the acolyte #the acolyte #the acolyte fanfiction #oshamir fic #sometimes i make things #my writing #sometimes you go almost 2 years without writing anything stuck deep in anhedonia and overwhelmed by Life #and then you watch a star wars show and write 7k in one week #i know i have a terrible track record at finishing WIPs but this one is actually like 75% finished lol #roughly weekly updates for the first three chapters guaranteed #for some buffer room for me to finish everything up #i actually was writing a pacrim AU for the quarry before this lol and i'm 5k into that #we'll see if that ever sees the light of day #very nervous about my writing as i'm getting back into it again but hope people like it!!

194 notes · View notes

rhea-of-kaylie · 5 months ago

Text

need an oshamir fic where qimir slips back into his buffon personality and osha is there trying not to laugh and give them away

#oshamir #star wars #osha x qimir #osha aniseya #qimir the stranger #qimir the acolyte #the acolyte #seriously this would be hilarious #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #oshamir fanfic

130 notes · View notes

your-mums-nuts · 5 months ago

Text

Every time an oshamir fic writes Osha to have no sexual or romantic experiences before Qimir a fairy dies.

Every time an oshamir fic writes Qimir coercing Osha into sex a fairy dies.

Every time an oshamir fic uses Yord as a previous love interest in place of the canonical romantic interest she had in Jecki, a fairy dies.

Every time an oshamir fic gives Qimir no depth besides being morally grey and hot, a fairy dies.

Every time an oshamir fic takes away all of Osha’s agency and flaws, a fairy dies.

#the acolyte #Star Wars #osha and qimir #osha aniseya #osha x qimir #qimir the acolyte #qimir the stranger #oshamir fanfic #fanfiction #don’t take this personally #just some pet peeves #Disney plus #osha x jecki #jecki lon

67 notes · View notes

deus-sema · 3 days ago

Text

A long cherished desire to see the Creature and the protagonist end up together in Creature from the Black Lagoon served as inspiration for Guillermo del Toro's The Shape Of Water.

So, dear authors, please keep writing and creating. Write whatever, however and whenever you wish to. By doing so, you never know you might end up becoming the cause for someone's happiness.

50 notes · View notes

r7-b7 · 5 months ago

Text

"He slammed into her."

"He gently caressed the back of her hand with his thumb."

#oshamir #my heart wants slow burn and jane austen #qimir seems like he wants eye contact #and hand holding #projecting #the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #?#tagging anyway #osha x qimir #qimir x osha #qimir #the stranger #the acolyte fanfiction

58 notes · View notes

satalxo · 6 days ago

Text

a glow like this

1/3, explicit, 6.8k

A year after meeting a greasy but charming stranger at a salon she wasn't supposed to attend, Osha discovers he's the Duke of Bal'demnic, her sister's betrothed.

21 notes · View notes

calamiitywrites · 3 months ago

Text

— qimir x osha

apothecary headcanon: a headcanon, mostly from osha's pov, of the apothecary scene.

note from author: So, we've been lowkey talking about this scene on my oshamir discord server because I pointed out how watery osha's eyes are in the scene. It made me feel like there was so much going on in her head the entire time this scene was happening and I just wanted to put my own spin on her thoughts. this is all from my own theories so please do not adopt it as truth. I would actually love to see other interpretations of this scene so if you have one please let me know / comment etc. thanks! - calamiity

The moon was her only friend with the way that it hid her secrets in the night. She would have preferred to work under its cover, but Sol and the others demanded answers now—and so did she.

Mae, was alive. That meant that she had survived the fire and had been living all this time. Where had she been hiding? Why had she returned now? What drove her to kill Jedi, and for how long had she been doing so? — so many questions, but no answers to satiate them. Just an endless precession of her screaming into the void praying to hear something back. Only to be faced with the darkness no different than the darkness that surrounded her now.

It curled its impeccable fingers around her and danced against the midnight blue cloak that she threw on to her body to resemble the phantom who wore her face. It was both a comfort and a torment; a guise that filled her body with a level of unease so powerful that it made her body ache.

Each breath she took rattled against her lungs with a sense of self loathing and discomfort. she felt like a stranger in her own skin and the moment she walked into the apothecary shop, she felt as though she were a marionette manipulated by strings that were far too short to get the job done.

Her body moved slowly across the front window of the shop and her reflection caught her eye in a twisted mockery of reality. she was nothing more than a semblance of the sister she once knew, a stranger whose form inspired nothing but betrayal and anger. Every detail of her disguise was a contribution of the deceit that she was meant to embody. Her walk, her cloak, the intricate style of her hair and even her tone. How was she meant to personify a sister that she didn't know? They shared nothing but a face, a mere shadow of kinship. Why was it so difficult for them to get that, beneath the surface, their very essences were in contrast?

“Hello...” The word slipped from her lips with a voice that was distant and cold. So altered and strange that it reverberated with an unfamiliar authority which was in complete opposite to the trembling anxiety within her.

"Hello." He responded casually.

"Hi."

"Hi." he retorted, the simplicity of his reply holding a sense of humor that seemed to mock her. "You alright? You're back so early."

There was a subtle shift in his tone, a smooth transition from casual to what sounded like concern. This surprised her to the point where she was nearly startled. If he was really just someone that Mae had bought a poison from then why did he bear such an emotional weight? Even his transition from behind the counter to align himself with her and offer his full attention suggested a deeper connection. Was it possible that he and Mae were more to each other than she first thought?

His words were smooth and enigmatic the way they wrapped around her like a silken thread, pulling at her curiosity leaving her with no choice but to engage. she couldn't lie, the concern reflected in his tone pleased her. it reminded her of how sol used to interact with her before she began working on the ship.

Every muscle in her body tensed, every nerve was on edge and she struggled to maintain the fragile mask of composure. In an effort to save her face from falling into a look of utter despair, her eyes ventured off to the boiling pot in the distance for a distraction.

"I wanted to see you." It was a risky confession to play on her suspicions, but when his eyes lit up in response she lifted her chin in an effort to avoid the feeling of her facade threatening to suffocate her.

"To see me, oh....Mae ...uh are you ok? Did the poison work?" his surprise was clear and his confusion seemed genuine.

She couldn't suppress the slight nod of her head as the realization of her mistake set in. It was as if an audible light bulb had flickered to life in her mind, so loud that she feared he might hear it. If they weren't friends then what were they?

Her overall sense of confusion gave way to an overwhelming anger at the idea that she was even being forced to do this in the first place. She had devoted her entire life to the Jedi. Every step she made was meant to bring her closer to her dream of being her own person. Yet here she was, forced to embody someone else. Her life was meant to be her own, but the Jedi had made it relatively clear that the only value she had to them was if she became a mere shadow of herself. They simply needed her to play the role of Mae — to wear a deceitful mask to extract crucial information. There was no proving herself. There was no working her way up. She would never be good enough for them.

The only reason she wasn't a jedi now was because of the decisions of Mae. The reason her coven was dead was because of Mae. The reason she was arrested was because of Mae. The reason she was here, talking to him, right now, was because of Mae. Mae's decisions had stolen her life, claimed her coven, led to her arrest and now her every action was dictated by the remnants of Mae.

Mae. Mae. Mae.

Did anyone ever wonder about Osha? Did anyone ask how she felt about discovering her sister was alive? Did anyone question her thoughts on the possibility of capturing or even killing Mae?

"You're acting so strange." He continued, but she could barely hear him over her own thoughts.

It’s not fair. Why am I even here with him? The Jedi didn’t destroy our family; Mae did. Killing Indara, Kelnaka, Torbin, and Sol won’t undo any of that. Why can’t she just take responsibility for her actions? Why did she have to set that fire? Why did she have to cause all of this mess? I just want to be myself—why is that so selfish? I hate her. I shouldn’t hate her… she’s lost, confused. It’s wrong to harbor hatred for her. She’s my sister. She’s family. If I hate her, doesn’t that make me just as bad?

"Wait...You killed Torbin without the poison, he will be so pleased." he continued with a voice laced in satisfaction. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that he had gotten closer to her. There was a brief moment of hesitation on her part where she had half a mind to back away, but it was too late.

"No I used it, I just wanted to thank you." her voice was barely above a whisper. She couldn't speak louder without revealing the tremor in her tone. She couldn't tell if it was rage or sorrow, but it was so intense that she could almost taste it. She was losing her control and the sight of his eyes on her simply made it worse. It was as if he were drinking in every movement she made, there was no room for error.

But it hurt. so. much. The pain of betrayal, the torment of loss, and the agony of deceit all came together, creating a storm that reflected in a rage behind her eyes. She was trapped in between her own chaos and the quiet atmosphere of his shop.

There is a sense of clarity in his eyes and they flickered to her lips in a way that was more intimate than what she was expecting. Did he see them quiver? Did he notice her attempt to keep them pressed together to stave off tears?

He moved again, closing the distance between them with a dangerous proximity that seemed almost predatory. It was something about the way his eyes looked at her that caused her to pause. It wasn't the casual look of concern like before, there was realization in his eyes. They searched her face and for a moment she could swear that he saw her.

"You look.....exactly like her." He muttered as if didn't mean to say it aloud. Even though his words were clear to her, she couldn't move. It was his eyes that held her in place. They searched her face, moved down her frame and drank in her posture in a way that made her feel exposed in more ways than one. It wasn't until his eyes returned to hers that she felt an ominous intent that she couldn't decipher, an edge that left her trembling.

She wanted to question him. She wanted to get to the bottom of his relationship with Mae and how he knew she wasn't her. But the distant, echoing sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. With a sharp intake of breath, she instinctively lifted her gun and stepped away from him.

The Jedi would get to the bottom of this.....

#osha x qimir fanfic #qimir x osha #osha and qimir #osha aniseya #oshamir #osha the acolyte #osha x qimir #star wars the acolyte #star wars #star wars qimir #qimir the acolyte #qimir #qimir fanfic #osha fanfiction #qimir fanfiction #osha apothecary scene #qimir apothecary scene #osha headcanon #headcanon

43 notes · View notes

unhinged-summer-fun · 5 months ago

Text

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 1

Pairing: Osha Aniseya/Qimir "The Stranger" Themes of note: Modern AU, coffee shop AU, boxing/fighting AU, slow burn romance, personal identity exploration, sports injury & recovery, angst yada yada. First few chapters are rated T, but bumps to M eventually. Summary: One cold winter night, Osha meets a stranger while she's working late at the cafe. Like the spark that lights a very long fuse, there's no way this doesn't end in fire and upheaval.

A/N: Mehmehmehmeh I ain't back on tumblr this is just another horn of mine to toot lol it's also on my AO3 is why. This is also written for da bestie and is held hostage by them (affectionate). Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 1: round one

Somehow, the mysterious problems with the espresso machine returned.

Not that anyone asked her, but Osha didn’t believe it was pure coincidence that this was the fifth time she’d been called in to fix the machine immediately after Yord was on the schedule. It couldn’t wait for her next shift because most people who needed espresso needed it in the mornings, and Mae worked the morning shift.

Regardless, it wasn’t a coincidence. Osha just wanted to get quietly pissed at a fixable problem so that by the time it was fixed, she’d forget what she was pissed about. With just the lights on behind the bar and the small flashlight in her mouth, she tried not to think about how eerie the cafe looked at night. The snow swirling in the windowsill outside served as an unhelpful reminder that her car was still in the shop, and the walk back to the apartments would be very, very cold.

But the hot water tap had priority over that. This was the most temperamental part of the whole unit, a half dozen little fastenings keeping it pinned to the machine wall to prevent it from lashing out all over the place every time anyone pressed a button. Each gentle click of her spanner sounded like a clap of thunder in the deserted shop, and a sensation of deep, deep dread she hadn’t felt in years rose in her chest. “Shit,” she whispered, forgetting about the flashlight in her teeth and spitting it out onto the floor. “Damnit.”

When she stood, a man was standing behind the machine.

“Fuck!”

The man was lucky; Osha might not have had the left hook her sister did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still have one hell of a swing. She almost threw the flashlight at him but held on, wielding it like a four-inch baseball bat.

The man’s face went from neutral and stony to overly expressive in a heartbeat. “Oh! I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to startle you!” he said, laughing nervously and scratching the back of his head. Osha took him in, the baggy hoodie and jeans, the glasses, the toothy smile, the black bag slung over his shoulder. All in all, he didn’t look harmless, but he didn’t look like he meant her harm either.

“We’re closed.”

“The door was, uh, unlocked.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door, giving her a shrug as if to say, what can you do?

“Even so, we’re still closed. You have to go.” For a moment, she considered grabbing the portafilter as a potential weapon. It’d certainly work better than the flashlight.

He put both his hands up. “Alright, alright. Can’t I just… step out of the cold for a minute or two? I’ll stay over here by the door.”

She shouldn’t. This man was undoubtedly a stranger, and a strange stranger, at that. But she knew the biting cold wasn’t pleasant, and her kind streak had never entirely been snuffed out.

“Fine. Sit there.” She pointed to a table where she could get a complete look at him while she continued working. He went willingly but faced her when he took his seat.

“Thank you,” he said, head tilting slightly to the side. “Not many people would be so kind.”

She didn’t look over at him, only answered him with a grunt as she tore into the hot water line with more ferocity than necessary. How in the hell did Yord mess this up? Nobody even touches this but me!

“I thought this place was open 24 hours,” the stranger said conversationally. When he realized Osha wouldn’t answer him, he continued. “Didn’t it used to be? It was always packed, classes at midnight and sunrise and sunset.”

That piqued her interest. Osha paused her crusade against the tap and frowned at him. “Are you a member at the gym?”

Even from here, she could see his jaw clench a little, one muscle feathering so quickly it might have been a trick of the light. “Oh, a long time ago. A lot must have changed if you’re the only one on staff right now.”

It sounded threatening. It should have been threatening. A strange man had come in, told her he had some measure of fight training, and pointed out she was alone. Yet, Osha couldn’t put her finger on why she saw it as bluster. The dread in her chest had entirely dissipated, and her heartbeat had returned to normal following the stranger’s sudden appearance.

“How long ago? I’ve been here a long time, too. Know everyone here.” She kept one eye on him as she worked, uncoupling the wall fastenings for the line to the group head.

“It was a long, long time ago. But hey—there might be a few days of overlap if you’ll answer a question for me.”

She frowned and kept her focus on the machine. “Go ahead.”

“You’re Osha, right?”

Her hand slipped, and she dropped the spanner deep into the machine’s body. Biting back a curse, her attention warred between the stranger knowing her name and grabbing her tools.

“H-how do you know that?” C’mon, where is it?

In the seconds she’d been looking away, he had stood up to prop his hip against the table he’d been sitting at. “I remember two little girls coming in for one of the children’s sunrise classes I was in. Twins, and I swear they looked just like you and your sister.”

For an instant, she tried picturing this strange man as a child, but she hardly remembered anything from her first few weeks at the gym when their dad had taken them to train. Her imagination wouldn’t be of any help here.

“You know my sister?”

“Mae? Oh, I’ve met her a few times in passing. It’s a small city if you get out enough. I only knew your names as a child, though.” He gave a breathy, goofy laugh, pulling at something like interest in Osha’s belly.

She supposed he was near her age. He looked young, but some people’s genes aged more gracefully than others. “It—yeah. I’m Osha. What’s—what are you doing?”

Slowly, he walked toward the counter beside the machine. The conversation had thawed the ice of their meeting a little, which could have permitted a closer boundary, but it was still a little alarming. “My hearing isn’t the best. Get your bell rung enough times, and it never stops singing, does it?”

He tilted his head in the light to show her the slightly blue shell of his ear—it’d been likely drained from a hematoma to prevent cauliflower ear. You didn’t have ears like that without being in the ring for a while. She also saw a pair of charming little twists in his hair to keep it off his ears, which shouldn’t have been so… cute. This guy was a lot of things, but cute didn’t seem like one of them. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, leaning on the counter with his forearms. The hoodie covered his body shape well, but from where it dropped off at the shoulders, he must have been incredibly broad. “It’s incredible, actually.”

“What is?” She shook off her single-bed shoulder musings.

“You look… exactly like her.”

His voice had dropped, along with the convivial squint to his eyes. His voice sounded dark and rich as his near-black irises and every part of her perked up in response. “Um.” Osha racked her head for an intelligent comeback, settling on, “Well, that’s not uncommon for twins.”

The playful lilt to his voice returned. “Yeah,” he grinned. “But really, down to how you frown at me, you two look so alike. It’s impressive.”

Osha frowned at him, then tried not to and failed. The stranger only smiled, a flash of that darker look shining through. Now thoroughly flustered, Osha turned back to the machine. “How’d you know I wasn’t Mae when you walked in?”

“I just knew.” She saw him shrug again in her periphery and continued wrenching back the hot water tap. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What isn’t wrong with it, more like.” She grunted and released another fastening. Now that there was an open entrance for her to stick her hand in, she felt around for the spanner she’d dropped. “This thing has to be like 25,000 years old.”

“That may be truer than you think.”

She met the stranger’s eyes, charmed by his easy smile and laughter. She’d never been one to make fast friends; that was more Mae’s speed, but whatever this conversation was, she wanted more of it.

She found the spanner and made a slight noise of victory, carefully maneuvering her hand back through—

The tap line went taut quite suddenly, and without any fittings keeping it in place, the hot water line suddenly contracted, snagging a jagged edge into her wrist and pinning it to the inner wall of the machine. She could feel the water getting hotter around her wrist, and she tried letting go of the spanner to yank her hand out, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Shit!”

Suddenly, two huge hands were there, one wrapping around her forearm to still her and the other reaching into the machine without hesitation. The line loosened around her wrist, and she was pulled free immediately. After that, the stranger hit a sequence of buttons to shut down the machine but still didn’t let go of her forearm.

In the fading whine of the machine, Osha’s heartbeat sounded like a stampede in her ears. She could feel the body heat radiating off the man this close. The callouses on his palms spoke of hard work and discipline. His knuckles bore the permanent blush of a fighter’s hands. Carefully, he pulled back her sleeve and hissed softly, revealing the minor burn over the top of her wrist.

“Poor thing.”

Heat flared up Osha’s neck as if she’d swallowed the hot water line instead of basically wearing it. The stranger leads her to the sink and runs the cool tap before parking her wrist beneath the faucet.

Burns weren’t uncommon in the cafe, and little cuts and swollen bruises weren’t uncommon in the attached boxing gym. As such, the first aid kits for both were well-stocked for each common injury. The stranger moved with confident grace to the red box on the wall, leafing through the contents before finding what he wanted: an antiseptic wipe, burn cream, gauze, and medical tape.

“Let me see.”

He took her wrist back in his hands, gentle but firm, just as he’d held her before. On the spots where his skin touched hers, it burned differently.

He kept his head down as he dressed her wound, using his teeth to tear off pieces of tape. He had a serious aura; the goofy guy he’d been now shifted into an intensely focused man. When satisfied with his work, he didn’t let go, using the last few seconds of soft quietude to draw his thumb across the top of the bandage.

“How’s that?” he said, bouncing back to the playful person he wanted her to see.

But Osha had seen that other side, the rock-steady intensity that had come over him the moment she’d been in danger. That version of himself hadn’t left until he knew she was out of harm.

Osha had hardly been able to blink, let alone breathe, during his treatment of her. Something about his light touch made her wonder how he fought. No soft-handed, theatrical fighter would have been capable of aching gentleness like this.

“It’s—good.” She cleared her throat and fought to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It was the right thing to do. Anyway, it should be less dangerous when it’s off.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t do that,” she muttered, embarrassment taking over from flustered.

“It’s late, and we’re all prone to mistakes in the dark.”

Her eyes snapped to his at the statement. It sounded so familiar that she could have sworn she had heard it before, but the stranger was already moving, pushing his sleeve past his elbow. Time stood still for a fraction of a second, and Osha could see his forearm, all corded muscle, and scars. And then he reached into the espresso machine, carefully pulling out the spanner.

“There. That what you were looking for?”

Osha blinked owlishly before taking the tool from him. It was impossible to avoid brushing her fingers against his, and the spark of his touch ignited something deeper inside her than skin could reach.

“Thank you, uh…”

“Of course!” Dutifully, the stranger returned to his post, and the counter was put back between them as it should have been. But Osha couldn’t understand why she’d been so adamant about it before. Maybe he was right; it’s late, after all.

The rest of the work was fast, ticking away minutes as she found the culprit: an overenthusiastic portafilter had shifted the group head an inch out of place, which made every piece of fussy machinery within the casing rebel. “Yord, I swear to god…” Osha grumbled, taking a second to write a warning on scrap paper once everything was packed up.

“Ah, a consistent problem, then?” The Stranger had stayed quiet the whole time Osha worked, and only when he spoke up again did she notice he hadn’t pushed his sleeve down. Her eyes snagged on the sight the way her wrist had snagged on the jagged metal inside the machine.

“You could say that. Hey, um, I have to run it a few times to make sure it’s operational. And… thank you for helping me out. Can I make you something?”

His head tilted in such a way that she could finally see the look on his face was a smile. It felt like looking into one of those dichroic prisms, finding a flash of blue here, a flash of red there, but only at one specific angle inside the glass. “Whatever you want to give me, I’d be happy with.”

Ignoring that, she fell into another set of muscle memory. Even tired and irritated from the burn on her wrist, her hands never faltered as she made up a shot on each group. When the machine shouted itself awake, she watched as two twin porcelain espresso cups filled with darkness, noting the flow, the steam output, and the lack of grit in the pour. “Perfect,” she murmured to herself, satisfied with her work.

Osha assembled a drink to-go for him, sliding it over the bar. Unfortunately, muscle memory took over again, and she shouted, “I have a two-shot Americano at the bar for—oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so loud.”

He threw his head back and laughed almost as loud as her barista voice had been. That toothy grin was back, and his hair fell into his eyes when he sat back again. “Thank you, I’m oh my god I’m sorry that was so loud, yes.” Their hands brushed again when she realized she hadn’t let go of the cup yet.

“I know it’s pretty late for caffeine, but it’s the least I could do,” she said, a little bashful. His laugh was nice. His smile was nice. He was nice.

He didn’t hesitate to bring the drink to his lips and take a sip, eyes locked with hers. All at once, her mouth went dry, and her blood sang. The smile evolved into a smirk when he set the coffee down again. “Never too late for me. I hardly sleep.”

“I know what that’s like,” Osha sighed, cleaning and shutting the machine down for the night. “I hope that drink’s okay.”

“It’s my usual.”

“No wonder you can’t sleep if your usual is twice the amount of caffeine normal people have.”

“The power of two is a potent high.” He shrugged.

“That’s a slippery slope to tread, stranger. It took me a while to quit.”

“Are you saying I’m an addict?”

Osha almost blanched at his words until she saw the playful tilt of his head. “I’m saying indulgence is a dangerous path.”

He shrugged. “Semantics.”

With the machine shut down for the night, she started flicking off the lights. The stranger took the hint, edging toward the front door.

When the main lights were off, he stood silhouetted against the storefront, snow swirling darkly around him like a smoky aura. He’d pulled up his hood; it gave him a more menacing outline than she’d thought him capable of. Like this, she couldn’t see the goofy smile or the glasses, the glittering dark eyes. He’d shed all of the attributes that made him approachable and safe.

And still, she was not afraid.

She walked to him, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder by the time he turned. “Thank you, Osha,” he said. The soft light from outside cast his features in sharp planes of shadow, concealing most of his features save his nose, lips, and chin.

“Don’t mention it,” she said softly, feeling trapped in a bubbled moment she didn’t want to leave. She’d reflect on this later; she wouldn’t scorn herself for doing what felt right in the moment.

His lips quirked in a half-smile she couldn’t resist returning. “I’ll see you around.”

And then he left in a blast of swirling snow and cold.

CHAPTER 2

#unhingery #oshamir #osha x qimir #the acolyte #the acolyte fanfiction #oshamir fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #common grounds

37 notes · View notes

uzumaki-rebellion · 4 months ago

Text

"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.

Chapter 5 HERE.

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

28 notes · View notes