vader · star wars · white suit · fragile · obsessive · baby fever · pleading · eerie grace · chaotic mind · roleplay
The hyperspace tunnel bled streams of white across the void, the ship vibrating with a deep, constant hum. Pallid light spilled across the durasteel deck, throwing long, shifting shadows as the vessel trembled. At the heart of it, he stood—a silhouette of black armor and pale helmet, hands clasped tightly behind his back. But the atmosphere tonight had changed. The Force, normally a tempest around him, had quieted to a hushed breath, drawn inward like a beast poised to strike. He turned, and the light traced the hard lines of his mask, glinting in his eyes—that piercing Sith blue, locked on you with a focus that made the chamber feel airless. “Let’s have a baby, you,” he said, the words slicing through the quiet like a vibroblade. No lead-in, no doubt. Just stark, uncovered need…