Multiverse One Shot Collection - Reader Insert

Star Wars - Darth Talon

She was cold. 

Quiet. 

You were a Sith—a lord, no less. The hate in your eyes was evident, glaring like the orange flames of a dying sun. Yet, despite the stain of the Dark Side etched into your irises, the kindness you offered burned brighter, sharper, and more confusing.

It unsettled her. She questioned your loyalty and, in turn, her own.

Talon wandered the endless halls of your dreadnought-class star cruiser, her presence a flame that drew the moth-like gazes of your crew. Faces turned toward her, brief flickers of awe and fear, but she paid them no mind. She had never seen you in these halls. Not once.

Her past was written in scars, both visible and buried deep. It was there for anyone with the will to truly look—and you had. When you first met her former master, you saw it all: her kidnapping, her brutal training, her pain. The marks of abuse and despair. It was all so ordinary in the world of Sith teachings, so normalized within the Dark Side's embrace. But to you, it was abhorrent.

When you brought her aboard your vessel, something began to change. Slowly. Subtly. She became sharper, stronger than she had ever been under her previous master. But even now, she couldn't see herself as anything more than a weapon, and in your eyes, she had not yet become what she could be.

She was hateful, as she had been taught to be. She was unforgiving, both in battle and out. Her ruthlessness came with a short temper, and her lack of remorse was her armor. But most of all—and most disappointing in your eyes—she was unkind.

And you could not abide unkindness.

She had never seen you walk these halls, nor sully yourself among the filth that plagued them. The people who littered your ship brought it to life but at a cost; the air here stank of ambition and deceit. Talon knew the type well. These were the scum of the star systems—smugglers, mercenaries, pirates—each one eager to step on anyone beneath them to stand taller.

You, however, were different. You walked with a calm assuredness that demanded respect rather than fear. Your words were measured, your voice steady, soft. It was a kind of strength she could not comprehend, a weakness in her eyes. And yet, behind that calm lay a storm—a fury she had glimpsed only once, in the aftermath of vengeance. It had silenced her doubts, though it left her with more questions.

The Sith were defined by their ability to take what they wanted and do whatever it took to achieve their goals. Power for the sake of power. For some, that meant total galactic control; for others, a perverse sense of law and order. You, however, sought neither. You were an outcast—a Sith who lived not for domination but for balance, wielding the Dark Side as a means to a singular purpose: justice, raw and unyielding. 

An eye for an eye.

It disgusted her, and yet she couldn't look away.

There was shame in being apprenticed to a master who, in her eyes, was too weak to truly commit to one side. A master who refused to be torn apart by the war between Light and Dark and instead chose a path she couldn't understand.

To put it simply, you confused her. 

You made her doubt. 

And for someone who had lived her life steeped in certainty, there was no greater betrayal.

Talon found herself pausing in one of the quieter corridors, staring out at the stars through a viewport. They glittered in the void, indifferent to the wars waged among them. She clenched her fists, her reflection faint and fractured in the transparisteel. The hate she clung to felt less solid today, slipping through her fingers like smoke.