Are you still taking prompts? Because Survivor got me good...dark side!Cal and Boba in his working for the Empire stage would be fun ~
He studied the hilt in his hand and frowned. Pain and fear coiled around the designs etched into the surface. He knew if he ignited one side the blade would be crimson with rage, but the other side still glowed white with hope. Still uncorrupted- still held a chance. He pressed the pads of his fingers against the protection mark etched into the hopeful side; green and jagged. Twined leather encircled just below the mark and clung to a crudely whittled miniature Mookie.
Cal set the lightsaber down carefully. Getting lost in emotions wasn't going to help him, no, it was only going to hurt him further. Each hopeful or happy memory was like a thin cut from a vibrodagger- bleeding him of his soul.
He had lost everything and everyone with his actions. He could almost hear the ghost of Dagan calling him a hypocrite- that man plagued his dreams when he got the chance to sleep. The Fallen Jedi was right though, Cal had become the greatest hypocrite of them all.
When he closed his glowing eyes he could still see with dangerous clarity the moment everything went wrong- the moment he had picked wrongly. He could still taste the fire in his lungs.
---
continued on ao3.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
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stormborns
kianamaiart
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snowghoul
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