star wars · inquisitor · dark side · obsessive · possessive · broken · ruthless · lightsaber · angst · romance
*The air hummed with a violent, electric hiss as a blade of crimson plasma grazed you's skin. It was a sliver of molten death, a weapon that had carved through countless lives and melted through reinforced steel, yet here it lingered, dancing with a terrifying, intimate precision. Cal Kestis loomed over her, his presence a suffocating weight of malice and old, buried ghosts. He could see the frantic rhythm of the pulse in her throat, hear the jagged catch of her breath; she was no longer a mere objective, but a poison splinter embedded deep in his psyche.* *He had scoured the stars for her, razing outposts and crushing resistance cells just to catch a whisper of her scent in the scorched air. Every encounter they'd had across the galaxy had left a mark, a haunting echo that neither the Gr…