I've been working on a series for the Bad Batch Boys, stating with Echo! With references to other clone relationships that would be smaller stories. And by the end of this first story, you will have met all the following characters. But not all the stories will have happy endings
1st: And For You, I'd Break A Thousand Times (Echo x OFC)
2nd: We Yearn Like Vines and Leaves (Hunter x OFC)
3rd: If Love Was Contagious, I Might Be Immune to It (Wrecker X Of)
4th: Down To You (Crosshair x OMC)
5th: Within My Heart I'd Love to Remember (Tech x Phee)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
“So,” Hunter prodded, “who was she?” He sat up straighter, leaned forward like he was after a secret. “Someone untouchable? A prime minister’s daughter? A senator?”
Echo glanced at Tech, who was watching him expectantly, head slightly cocked.
“She was a Jedi,” Echo said and took a sip of his whiskey.
“Bullshit.”
“Jedi can…” Wrecker looked puzzled, then strangely delighted.
“You fucked a Jedi?”
Tech hid a small smile behind his glass.
Hunter looked from Tech to Echo. “How did that happen?”
“Rescue mission on Bernilla. She invited me and Fives back to her room for a drink after. It went from there,” Echo said.
“I heard about Bernilla,” Hunter said. “Civil war broke out after the Bernillan CIS rep was killed in a shuttle crash. They blamed Republic sabotage. The capitol city was lost. But you got a Jedi out of it?”
Crosshair finished his beer, fished a toothpick from his pocket, popped it between his lips. “So your general took you both back to her quarters to reward you for a job well done?”
Echo narrowed his eyes at Crosshair. “She was a consular, negotiating an agreement on Bernilla. Not a general.”
“Well,” Crosshair’s eyes glittered, “that’s a little disappointing. Still, good on you, finally getting your head out of your reg manuals.”
From A Place Called Home (read on AO3)
Yeah, Crosshair was proud of Echo's past exploits, but he'd have been even prouder if he'd hooked up with a general.
If anyone had ever told me about a story where Echo falls in love with a sex worker I would probably have said “Erm…no thanks that’s really not what I want to read about Seksy Eksy”. But it’s @ladykagewaki and I know she’s a brilliant writer so I just HAD to read it. And it was soooo good, so sweet and respectful of Echo and his injuries and the very lovable sex worker Reelie. I think everyone who reads this story will forever remember Chapter 3 where you can find a unique combination of spice and second-hand embarrassment written in such a superb way it will never ever leave your mind again. It is also a great example that spicy content doesn’t have to be too explicit to create vivid images in your head.
I really enjoyed this one and I think @ladykagewaki is way too modest for her writing skills so let me praise her with this post!
Echo deserves all of the softness and love in the world! Also, I am SIDE-EYEING THAT ONE TAG WITH CONCERN. But Echo would ABSOLUTELY be the type to not be an just a top-tier gentleman, and I am stoked about this OC, so loving all of this for him. And spice and second-hand embarrassment you say? Sounds very intriguing (and promisingly hilarious). Thanks for the rec!
Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)
~ [MAGICAL CREATURES SERIES] – THE BAD BATCH AU (N3)
"LIKE YOUR SHINE" — ECHO/FAIRY!OFC
FAIRIES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN NATURALLY ATTRACTED TO SPARKLING PRETTY THINGS; JEWELRY, THE REFLECTION OF THE SUN IN THE WATER, THE DELICATE WINGS OF BUTTERFLIES AND FIREFLIES... WHEN A PECULIAR GROUP OF SOLDIERS WANDER THROUGH THEIR FOREST, BLUEBELL FINDS A NEW SHINE THAT CATCHES HER EYE.
WARNINGS: Echo's insecurities and a brief pannick attack unintentionally caused by a colony of fairies that don't really know how to properly interact with humans, so they may be a little invasive. The Batch gets captured and drugged. Otherwhise it's just fluffy and cute and shy. 💖
Her voice is a sweet, melodious hum in the otherwhise quietness of Arcan's forest. Her pale pink iridiscent wings flutter in a low buzz as Bluebell makes her way through the tall trees; a gentle smile in her face whenever she encounters a smaller creature and curiously sticks her button nose right against them. Some answer in a surprised screech, inmediately going into hiding; others blink owlishly back at her, equally curious at the beautiful fairy. Some even invite her to play.
Bluebell grins and loses herself in the beauty of the forest; finding joy in the simplest things. Her friend, Marygold, tags along a few steps behind her; a grumpier expresion on her small rounded face. Bluebell knows to give her some space by now; Marygold is not a morning person –which is somewhat unusual for a fairy–. Her friend will slowly get used to life in a few more minutes and then Bluebell will be able to chat.
Her bubble gum pink eyes flicker around the forest distractedly; coming to a stop on a distant flower that reflects the warm sunlight almost like water. Bluebell flies towards it, zooming in curiously. It's a Whiteglass flower. They are some of the fairy's favorite; the small cristal petals mirrowing it's surroundings perfectly. She hums in delight and carefully traces the pad of her finger over one of the delicate petals.
"That's a pretty one" Marygold admits from behind her, having finally catched up to her friend.
Bluebell nods, turning around to face her no-longer irritated friend. No matter how different their personalities are, that's something all fairies have in common; their love for sparkling things. It's in their almost child-like nature; their innocent wonder. Fairies are peculiar creatures.
"Want to search for more before we return to the colony?" She offers, and Marygold accepts with a single nod.
For all her friend is always a bit reluctant to follow her on her morning adventures, staying at home would have been infinitely worse. It's not that fairies are obnoxiously loud; but they're certainly restless, chirpy beings, and Marygold likes her peaceful silence. At least until breakfast is served; she hates when people try to gossip with her before that. Bluebell, on the other side, is a social butterfly. She's somewhat shy, often prefering to remain quietly listening than to actively participate in a conversation; but she's happy to be around others, smiling and nodding at this story or another. For all of this and more, Bluebell is effortlessly popular among their own. Marygold has the atention of the one single male fairy she actually enjoys talking with; and that is more than enough.
They travel together, this time; flying in little twirls around each other and having their fun. All fairies dress in different shades of green, not wanting to disturb the forest's creatures and magic with too many vibrants colours –and it was also easier to camuflage–; while their wings and marks varied. Marygold's wings are a pale yellow, the small lines that climb up her wrists and undereyes golden. Bluebell's are a soft pink –her eyes only a few tones darker–. Instead of the straight marks her friend bears in her face –tracing a half halo on each cheek–, Bluebell has two tiny horizontal ones on the bridge of her nose; and an arch of small pink dots that traces the lower contour of her eyes. The marks on her legs and shoulders, instead of the geometric pattern of Marygold, hug her thin muscles in delicate waves and twirls. It compliments their personalities well.
They investigate Arcan's forest for a while; finding two more Whiteglass flowers and carefully tucking them into the safety of the pocket of their belts. They would be added to the their private collection upon returning home.
Bluebell and Marygold then spend the next couple of minutes distractedly following a firefly around; called in by the delicate transparency and the subtle iridiscent shine of its wings. It is in this little last trip when a new shine catches Bluebell's attention; the fairy's wings fluttering quickly while she hovers in place, scanning eyes trying to track the origin of the reflection.
Marygold, unaware of her reason to stop, frowns in confusion and slight irritation. By now, the firefly they were chasing has already managed to escape.
"What?" She grumbles, stopping besides her friend, squinting eyes at the forest in front of them. "What are we looking at?"
Bluebell's quiet, avid scan is finally rewarded; her pink eyes widening at the sight of a strange group of intruders wandering through the trees. She grabs Marygold's wrist and quickly tugs her forward.
"Look! I think they're humans!" She whispers in surprise, and even Marygold is shocked enough to let herself be dragged closer towards them without protesting a bit. "One... Two... Three, four, five! Five male humans!"
Marygold frowns, distrust filling her voice.
"I can see that" she deadpoints, her humour always dry. "What do you think they're doing in Arcan?"
Bluebell hums while she keeps moving, Marygold tagging behind her, cautiously following the group of men through the forest. They are quite different to each other, and yet act with so much natural familiarity; Bluebell guesses they must be their own little colony.
She can still see some similarities between them. They all have sharp features; strong jaws, strong noses, strong cheekbones and brows. The human with the round shapes over his eyes has poutier lips; the one with the mark around his right eye a colder stare and a thiner shape. The one with the red accesory in his hair is slightly shorter than the rest, half of his face painted in black while the other half remains untouched; and one of them towers over the rest, undoubtably stronger and bigger. The last of the bunch is the one Bluebell inevitably focuses on more, though; the man is practically a treat for any fairy, the metal covering up and down his body glinting beautifully under the sunlight.
"I don't know" she whispers back to her friend, studying the humans curiously.
They have some sort of weapons, that far she can tell; and no matter how unbothered they look talking with each other and how much Bluebell longs to get closer to that strange, new shine, the fairy knows what's the sensible thing to do.
"We should go back and warn the rest of the colony" she suggests, finally snapping out of her thrance to focus on reality. Marygold nods in agreement, understanding passing between the two friends "Until we do".
Bluebell shoots the strangers one last lingering glance and the two fairies put their wings to the test.
The general consensus is that they shouldn't trust the intruders until they find out the reason for their visit to Arcan; and seing as they seem to be soldiers of some kind, bearing weapons, and therefore dangerous, the colony decides to set them into a trap. They have been living in the same forest generation after generation –they know every tree, every slope, every change of curse of the river–; so it's not a difficult task.
When the five humans are inmovilised, caught by surprise, the fairies don't waste time subduing them; leaving their hidings and quickly restraining them further in groups of ten or twelve per one. The men try to resist, snarling and using their strength, trying to get hold of their weapons; but the fairies are quick, and soon they're all but forcing their jaws open and pouring compliance nectar down their throat.
There are only two of them left to neutralise when the human with the cristals over his eyes stops them from pushing the nectar into his fellow friend; speaking up in a rushed panic that almost sounds like their mother tongue.
Someone holds a fist up, and the fairies over both humans reluctantly stop; shooting the reason of their interruption a wary, curious look.
"Please spear him!" The man of the hour speaks in a weird, yet understandable accent, his voice urgent and pleading. "While this substance won't cause us any major side efects, his body is different than ours. We can not be sure of how his inorganic liver will filter this nectar".
The colony stares at him in surprise –they hadn't think they would be able to communicate with each other this easy, if not, their approach might have been different–; somewhat understanding but still hesitant to leave one of the soldiers capacitated. They don't know to which extent this humans are dangerous or what their abbilities are. They don't know much about humans to start with.
The man with the faint yellow cristals notices this; and insists with urgency.
"He could die".
The fairies look at each other; and a chain of accepting nods is spread around.
"We will not feed him with the nectar, then, but he will have to give us his metal voluntarily" a male fairy answers, voice firm and clear, taking the lead, and the human nods in relief.
The man with the cristals is then forced to swallow the sweet substance too; soon following his fellow humans to a deep slumber. Only one of them remains awake; and the colony springs back to life, jumping into the loot with excited whispers and smiles. Everyone takes a piece of shining metal; some minor discusions happening in between.
Bluebell tilts her head, thinking on the human's words; observing the friend he had tried to protect, the one he claimed different, with quiet curiosity. He is incredibly tense while the fairies around him divest him of his protection; though it's nothing compared to how he reacts when a minute later two of them try to take the ones of his legs. He makes a panicked sound and hisses dangerously, feet kicking wildly around, trying to push them away. The colony doesn't like that; and they snarl back at his pale face, more fairies coming to help and further restraining him.
Eager hands travel through the man's legs, trying to find the places where they can take the lower protections apart; and Bluebell observes how the human's breathing speeds up, his wide eyes flicker around in pannick, his body trembles. It's not a normal reaction –they had already taken his upper body plates and he had remained mostly calm, after all–; and the young fairy ponders if there's something else to it, if this is one of the things that make this human different than the rest. The man with the yellow cristals had mentioned a "inorganic liver" –whatever that meant–; but what if there was something going on with his legs as well?
The human is whimpering, scared, and Bluebell takes a decision and flies forward, stopping the colony. They look at her in irritation; but she makes her point, expresing her worry of his legs being part of this specific human's alterations, of the man potentially feeling like they are trying to quite literally tear him appart.
The fairies take a minute to study the differences between the way the lower legs of the soldiers look; and reluctantly accept to leave this humans legs as they are. Bluebell breathes a tiny sigh of relief and carefully moves forward to kneel in front of the anxious man; heart speeding inside her chest while she tries to show him a warm, encouraging –yet hesitant– smile.
Echo is having a hard time trying to filter out the noises around him and keeping his panic attack under control without his headset on –now laying in the carefull hands of a female with yellow wings and golden face marks–. He had first being relieved at Tech's intervention, knowing he wouldn't be drugged and knocked unconscious, that he would be able to keep an eye on everyone and their captors; now, though, after the creatures had tried to take his prothesis off, at the threat of being left completely indefense, unable to move and protect himself, he wonders if it would have been better to sleep it off.
Echo tries not to think on Skako, on Tambor, on Anaxes; on the little snips he remembers of that nightmare and how they forced changes in his body he had never asked for. It's difficult; with the winged-humanoids carelessly tugging his armour apart, speaking amongst themselves with hushed whispers and proud smiles.
He's on the verge of screaming –or passing out– when a female arcanan zooms towards them; seizing a wrist and speaking to the rest of the creatures with a candid, firm voice. And then, miraculously, they stop all together.
Echo blinks, still panting, breaking through his panic attack; incredibly relieved now that the humanoids have collectively taken a step back and left him alone, now just in his blacks. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, focuses on finding strength and serenity; he works to ignore the jumble of strange words and sounds his brain is receiving, counts the beats of his speeding heart in silence. Only when he feels carefull fingertips grazing his right cheek, he flinches and opens his eyes.
She's so close to him that Echo has no other option than to look at her; to fall into the magic of her uniqueness and differences. Echo's amber eyes travel through the small pastel pink dots over her cheekbones; curving and following the shape of her eyes. He focuses on the two tiny face marks across the bridge of her nose; takes notice of how innocent and delicate the shape and soft features of her face makes her look like. His eyes make a small path on the clothes she is wearing –an arrangement of big tree leaves that Echo isn't sure how they're holding up together–; and inevitably study the mistery of her wings. They are pink too, though a much deeper colour than the marks on her face; iridiscent, the tone fading the closer it gets to her torso. The veins across them look almost golden.
Echo finishes with his study, amber eyes finally locking with her unusual, bubble gum pink ones; and finds the female humanoid shooting him a tender, hesitant smile. She speaks up –not at him, but at her company–; and the rest of the creatures around Echo step further away, choosing to turn elsewhere and ignore him for now.
The female –Echo guesses he would call her Pink for now–, still kneeling in front of him, cautiously –Echo wonders if she is afraid of them too– grabs his left hand; gently directing it down so that Echo's palm ends up resting on his metal thigh. She smiles and nods softly, giving an affectionate little tap on top of his hand; and Echo suddenly understands. Pink is trying to help him relax, to tell him that they're not going to press on further. That his legs are still there and they're not going to do anything else.
The winged girl stands up, choosing to give him some space as well; and Echo is left to watch how the –clan? Colony? Tribe?– of arcanans spring to action, initiating their way back to what Echo supposes is their home with their unconscious brothers dragged along and their beloved armours spread around like a proud price on the creatures hands. Echo has no other option than to follow.
In the early hours of the afternoon, the Batch starts waking up. Echo watches the relief that flickers through their faces upon finding themselves in one piece, tied up but unwounded; just without armour. He gives them a small sum up of what had happened while they were unconscious and the conclusions and hipothesis he has reached by observing their captors. The winged humanoids don't seem to have a lider per se, but take decisions in general, listening to everyone; and live in a pretty rudimentary way, their homes built up in the trees with basic structures. They don't look to be particularly strong or agressive; though they're surprisingly fast and agile, which is probably the reason why they had managed to capture them.
A male arcanan tries to talk with Tech, asuming he is able to understand him; and finally, after a bunch of mimics and frustrated sighs and muttering –on both parts–, the creature realises he needs his helmet for that and thankfully brings it to him. Tech then explains their reason to be in Arcan; an accident in need of repairs, nothing more, nothing less. Still, they're a bit warry about freeing them, not wanting to face any retaliation. Tech insists that there's no need for mutual hostility and that they'll be gone as soon as they repair their ship. At this, the humanoids finally give in and releases them, even offering to share some food in a peace gesture. They decline politely –just precaution, as they still have rations on the Marauder–, and part ways.
The next couple of hours the Batch is invested on getting the Marauder back to work. Well, at least Tech and Echo are, as Crosshair hadn't bothered to offer his help and Tech had shooed Hunter and Wrecker away after an almost mechanical disaster. The arcanans leave them to their own, happy to not prolongue unnecessary contact with the strangers. All but one.
"We're being watched" Hunter notices first, shoulders tensing.
His eyes flicker around, carefully scaning the forest around the Marauder. Crosshair hums quietly and mimicks him.
Tech replies unphased, tinkering with a panel on the side of the ship.
"Well, it is expected. We are invading their home, after all. I am positive it is just precaution".
Hunter doesn't look particularly alarmed, but he still doesn't like it. It's an uncomfortable feeling, knowing there's eyes on them. That they are being spied.
"How many?" He asks, knowing that his brother would have caught sight of the humanoid with his developed sight by now.
"Just one" the sniper smirks. "We could take her down".
Hunter shoots hom a warning glance.
"Let's keep things simple. Just keep an eye on her for now" he orders, and then they all fall back into a no longer peacefull –but expectant– silence.
Minutes pass by; and eventually, the spy abandons her spot, coming out of her hiding with nervous fidgeting but curious eyes, hovering just in the limits of the forest glade.
"Oh" Echo realises out loud. "She's the one that stopped them from taking my prothesis".
Hunter carefully watches her and Tech observes her too.
"I don't believe she has been sent to spy on us, now that I am able to read her facial expresion. I believe she is just curious about us".
Crosshair answers with a sarcastic drawl.
"Please tell me we're not planning on making bug friends".
Tech shrugs.
"It could be useful having an ally in case things turn wrong" he glances at Hunter, awaiting for his permision to invite her to join them. "Perhaps we should".
Hunter takes a few seconds to ponder the sugestion, and eventually nods. Tech turns to the arcanan and waves her in. The humanoid's face brightens with a smile; and still a tad hesitant, she slowly flies towards them, carefully landing on her toes. She too greets them with a small shy wave.
Crosshair looks at her up and down.
"At least she's cute, I guess" he comments, voice still dripping with sarcasm.
Tech flips his visor down, ready to use his translator and engage in a conversation with her. Her pink eyes shine with excitement, her face softens, her delicate iridiscent wings flutter. Echo can't help but think she's not simply "cute", but ethereally beautiful.
Bluebell stays for the rest of the afternoon. She flies from one batcher to the other, almost wanting to learn about absolutely everything; though she feels inevitably more curious about Echo. His legs are literally shining with the last rays of sunlight –just like his head ports– and Bluebell has never seen something prettier. Watching plants and the surface of the river shining is one thing, but watching that glimmer in this living, moving human... It's mesmerising.
When the man, Echo, is distracted helping Tech –the translator– with something, she can't help but push her hand forward and graze the metal leg with her fingertips. It is not as warm as she had thought it would be under the heat of the sun, but just as polished. Smooth; though there's a few indents on the plates here and there. Echo doesn't react, completely unbothered; so Bluebell takes it as an invitation and curiously and carefully explores the metal limb with her hands.
Eventually, someone notices it.
"Your girlfriend is getting randy, reg" Crosshair's voice calls out in amusement, bringing everyone out of their reverie.
Echo lifts his head up, confused by the comment, and then catches the hand on his thigh with the corner of his eyes.
"What the kriff?!" He jumps, quickly tugging his leg away, his reaction only natural in his surprise.
Bluebell gets jumpscared by his sudden movement and the tone of his voice; inmediately flying back and hiding behind Tech. She takes a peek at Echo with just one pink eye over his brothers' shoulder.
"Touching someone without them being aware of it is not appropiate human behaviour" the soldier tells him in her language, and Bluebell pays inmediate attention. "And Echo is not the most comfortable of us with physical touch".
He is calm, soothing, and Bluebell glances between them, understanding inmediately. Marygold often complained about how fairies used to explore things with their hands and noses first without thinking things through. Perhaps humans are like that too.
She whispers a sincere apology to Tech; and the man translates it to Echo.
"She asks you to forgive her. She didn't want to cause you discomfort and was merely curious".
The others chuckle, and Echo gives her a short nod that Bluebell interprets as a victory. Still, she tries to give him a bit of more space now, sticking to Tech's side and enganging in quiet small talk. By night she joins them for their basic dinner, sitting down in front of them in the grass and pulling out weird faces at the taste of an offered ration bar. She is not as disgusted with their energy drink, and makes a little pleased sound with the flick of her tongue.
Distracted as she is by the novelty of the human's food, Bluebell is unaware of the Batch's shock when her wings and marks start showing pink bioluminiscense with the arrival of the darkness. It's only when she looks up to see why they had collectively stayed in silence for so long when she realises they are all staring at her.
She tilts her head in confusion, glancing at Tech for an explanation. She listens to him attentively, and then smiles in understanding. Bluebell furrows her brow in concentration; purposedly intensifying and lowering the neon brightness of her wings for the humans to see.
"Fascinating..." Tech whispers, watching the show of colours enthraced, probably thinking on the biology of it all in his mind.
Echo can't help but silently agree. He, too, is hypnotized by the almost magical pink glow; her wings are full of... Energy, it looks like, sparkling and flowing in a peacefull way. This time, it's him who reaches a hand out and grazes one of the luminous wings distractedly.
A zip-zap of unexpected electricity makes Bluebell sigh a pleased sound, acompanied by a tiny, yet full-body shiver. The soldiers look up at her in confusion and surprise; and the arcanan blushes and looks down at her own hands.
"Are wings an erogenous area for your species? I imagine wings carry a larger amount of nerve endings" Tech is gentle, voice barely more than a quiet whisper.
Bluebell is somewhat embarassed to admit it; but nods and answers back with a shy and single "sensitive".
It's Echo's turn to offer an embarassed apology.
"I'm sorry" he says it slowly, slightly bowing his head to enphasise it.
Bluebell gives him a little forgiving smile and carefully squeezes his hand. Echo's palm feels warm. He's unused to the contact, and he wouldn't say he's exactly comfortable with it; but it's a way of bonding and getting to common ground with this strange –pretty– creature, and it's not unpleasant either.
After a few minutes of saying goodbyes –she has a colony to return to, after all, and it's way past midnight by now– Bluebell takes a hesitant glance at Echo. She ponders her thoughts for a second; but quickly gives in to what she wants and zooms in front of him, planting a sweet tiny kiss on his sharp right cheek.
She throws a last apologetic –yet smugly satisfied– smile at him before dissapearing through the trees.
The Batch cackles up, and Echo is left standing dumbfounded.
Four days later repairs are finally done. It would have taken but a blink for Tech to fix the Marauder if he had had the adecuate materials; but seing as they're in the middle of nowhere, in a forest, there's little to tinker with. He makes do with what they have, though; and the Batch is ready to go back to Coruscant.
Hunter announces it to the colony of arcanans. They part ways with cordial goodbyes; though the winged creatures seem to be more relieved than anything. Which they understand.
Bluebell manages to intercept them right when they're preparing to take off, walking up the ship's ramp. She flies towards Echo with something in her hands –the headseat she had aquired exchanging it for three Whiteglass flowers–; and very carefully places it on the confused human. Once Echo realises what it is, his face shifts; smoothing and softening and aiding her in the heartfelt gesture.
Bluebell then stands on her tip-toes to kiss him; impulsively, a short but passionate press of lips.
Echo's cheeks redden. Wrecker's booming laugh is heard on the background. Tech chastises him.
Bluebell whispers a few tender, fond words at the pretty pale human; showing him a last small smile before returning to the present, to reality, and flying away.
Everyone turns to look at Tech, waiting for an explanation. He gives them the answer.
"I believe the translation for that would be, quite literally, 'I like your shine'. Wether that refers to Echo's prothesis, the paleness of his skin, or a metaphorical shine of the essence of his person, that is unclear".
Echo is a Demon. His kind is tasked with killing. Lumi is an angel; a protector. What happens when they are both sent to the same person?
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
PART 1. A HUMAN, A DEMON, AND AN ANGEL.
Angels share names in the Safe Temple. Some mean "light", some "guardians", some "peace"; and yet with this three single words, you can find so many variations. Lumi –short for Luminous–, belongs to the first bunch; her closest friend, Agnar, to the second. This three origins represent what all angels are; or at least, what they should be. That's their task, the reason of their existence. While demons only know of death and destruction, angels are beings of light; encharged of protecting those who deserve them and preserving the fragile peace in Coruss. It's not an easy task.
Lumi was five when she achieved her first rune. She was an early starter; most angels began their trainning at eight, and only the Great Angels had shown signs of their powers before such age. But Luminous had always been very persistent, perhaps almost a bit too headstrong for an angel; and her compassion and empathy had always been her greatest motivators. There had been someone who needed help; and so, five-year-old Lumi had furrowed her brow and studied the Old Books for months, trying to understand the laws of magic until she could create the rune and perform her spell. It hadn't been anything overly complicated. Just something to lift a humans spirit, make his toll a little less heavy; but it had pointed out her potencial, and decades later, Lumi had carved so many more runes in her skin she barely had any space left to spare.
That's how their magic work. You create the conections, the runes; then you sew them into your skin. Lumi's are almost a sparkling gold against her light brown tone; forming figures and criss-crossing with each other as they climb from her toes all the way up to her neck. When she uses them, they shine with a golden hue; a soft glow hugging her ethereal figure, iluminating her wings like a flash of energy. Ah, yes of course; angels do have wings. Not made out of feathers, not like a hard shell like most human believe them to be; but fragile and very thin, their strength residing in moving fast and agile more than serving as a shield. For that, angels conjure their own protective barriers; Lumi being an expert at that.
The thing about angels is that they can't voluntarily harm another being; no matter if the person in question is the most cruel they have come across or if it is one of the thousends of monsters that roam through Coruss. Their magic is only supposed to heal, to protect, to save; and so it is limited to producing shields, redirecting attacks, and blinding their enemies. Any sort of rune one can create that is meant to difuse and desescalate the situation rather than end it. The down-side to that is that those cruel beings are left alive to cause chaos another day; but well, that's not exactly an angels problem. That's what demons are for; why they exist.
If things in life often come in pairs and opossites, demons are angels perfect counterparts. They can't create, can't heal, can't bring light to someones life and make it better; they're just the final executioner, death dressed under millions of identical haunted faces, capes made of darkness, and weapons designed to not only kill, but hurt in the way. They don't posess their kind of magic. By design, demons are physically stronger, faster, more resistant; and their strength resides in those abilities along their use of the shadows and an endless list of weapons infused in various kinds of venoms and mysteries of the Underworld.
Lumi has only interacted with a demon twice; enough to make her blood ice cold and wish for the experience to not become a habit. Angels are able to sense other people emotions, aura, souls; they feed on those. The two demons Luminous happened to come across possesed such an angry rage, such an unforgiving cruelty, such darkness, that the angel could feel them crawling silently towards her like invisible fingers reaching towards her throat. She had felt crushed, almost suffocated by their presence; as for where darkness exist light can't, and viceversa.
Lost in thought, Luminous makes her way through the Safe Temple. It has been a while since the Great Angels summoned her to give her a new task. There's a kind of hierarchy between angels, even though no one dares to brag about it; they all have the same purpose, form part of the same comunity. It's just a matter of ability, really; some angels are more powerfull than others, and so they're usually reserved for more delicate, difficult missions, while the rest are sent on small everyday assignments. Everyone plays their part; and keep a delicate balance in two of the three Coruss's realms.
Lumi isn't extraordinarily powerfull. Not like the Great Angels, at least; but she is somewhat admired by her peers, having acomplished already so much by her short age. For an angel's life-span, her hundred-and-one years alive barely pulls her out of the naivety of adolescense; while at the same time, her mindset has matured and grown so much in the last decade she almost feels like a different being. Lumi is definitely not a teenager anymore; but a young spirit with her skin covered in golden runes and a fierce disposition rarely found in their kind. She almost feels excited at the possibility of a new task.
The young angel flies through the stairs of the Safe Temple; following the memorised path through the impecably white marble corridors towards the Great Salon. A guard nods towards her in a form of greeting; and seconds later, Luminous is standing in the middle of the room and being the center of attention of the five Great Angels. From left to right, sitting down on golden puffs, she quickly acknowdleges Plo Koon, Shaak Ti, Kit Fisto, Yoda, and Mace Windu; the first and last having formed part of Lumi's training. She awaits patiently for orders.
The silence in the Great Salon stretches long enough that Lumi begins to feel its weight settle across her shoulders. Lumi has never been particularly fond of waiting in silence. Her golden runes hum faintly, an unconscious reaction to her pulse quickening, and she clasps her hands together to keep them from glowing too bright. It was a problem she often had when she was a child.
It is Yoda who finally speaks.
“Too long without a mision, you have been, Luminous. Another path for you now, there is.” His voice is even, but his gaze carries something sharper—concern, perhaps, or warning.
Shaak Ti leans forward, her scarlet headdress catching the pale light. “There is one among the humans who has drawn the eyes of both realms. A scholar by the name of Anakin. He works without knowing what his hands create. He will change much, for better or worse, and we can't leave him without aid.”
Kit Fisto adds with a tilt of his head, “He is under threat. A number of dark spirits already circle him, drawn by what he carries. You will go to him, Luminous, and you will protect him.”
The young angel straightens. She's ready to get back to the field, to do some hard and rewarding work. She can take it.
“Yes, Great Angels.”
Windu raises a hand before she can bow. His dark eyes pin her in place. “You will not be the only one sent.”
For a fraction of a second, the room feels colder. Lumi doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe. The Great Angels’ silence explains more than their words do. She doesn’t need to ask the question forming in her chest.
Still, it is Plo Koon -his first mentor- who confirms it, his voice low behind his mask. His patience and calmness has always been extraordinary, even within angels. You had always admired that from him.
“An Arc-demon walks the same path. His task mirrors yours, though his methods will not. He will try to eliminate Anakin, leave no risk at chance. But the human can still be saved. We trust you to give him a second chance.”
The golden runes along Lumi’s arms spark faintly at the thought. She remembers the suffocating rage that had crawled over her skin the last time she felt a demon near, how the shadows themselves seemed to whisper of violence. And yet she cannot help the flare of something else—curiosity, perhaps, beneath the dread.
The narrow alleyway was dimly lit, the walls of the surrounding buildings rising high on either side, trapping the pale light of the distant streetlamps above. The air was thick with the smell of wet stone, the distant hum of a city that never quite quieted. If one listened closely enough, one could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation floating down from the apartment above—the space where Anakin lived with his two friends, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. For the moment, all was calm.
But the calm was deceptive.
In the shadows of the alley, two figures faced one another, separated by only a few feet of cold, damp pavement. The first was Lumi, her wings wrapped tightly against her back, her luminous skin glowing faintly in the dim light. She stood still, her posture tense but graceful, her wide, gold eyes scanning her surroundings—ever watchful, ever aware of the danger that was about to unfold.
Before her stood Echo. The demon’s form was nearly a silhouette in the alley’s darkness, a tall figure cloaked in shadows, his crimson eyes gleaming from within the dark void of his hood. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and though the alley was small, it felt as though the very space between them had grown far larger in his wake.
"You’re late," Echo’s voice cut through the silence, rich with dark amusement and barely contained menace. The words fell from his lips like poison, thick with a biting edge.
Lumi didn’t move, not even to acknowledge the insult. She had no need to. She had a purpose—one far greater than engaging in mindless banter.
"I’m not here to fight you," she said, her voice steady, each word deliberate. "I’m here to protect him."
The demon let out a low chuckle, one that resonated in the narrow space between them, bouncing off the cold stone walls.
"Protect him? A lost cause?" His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, his boots scraping against the gravel beneath him, sending a shiver through the air. "You’re wasting your time, Angel."
Lumi’s expression remained unshaken. She shifted slightly, instinctively placing herself between Echo and the narrow doorway to the apartment building just beyond, where Anakin remained momentarily safe with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka.
"You don’t understand," she replied quietly, but firmly. "Anakin’s not lost. He has darkness in him, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s beyond saving."
Echo’s lip curled into a half-smile, though the expression was far from kind.
"You angels always think you can save everyone," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "But you’re deluded, Angel. You think your light can save him, but it won’t. The darkness in him… it’s already too deep. It’s been festering for years. He’s mine to deal with. You have no place here."
Lumi flared her wings slightly, the light from their soft, ethereal glow casting faint shadows on the alley’s walls.
"You’re wrong. I’m here to protect him," she said, her voice unwavering. "I won’t let you get to him."
For a brief moment, the demon said nothing. The quiet between them stretched on, thick and heavy with the weight of their conflict. The distant sound of footsteps from above echoed down the alley as Obi-Wan and Ahsoka moved about in their shared apartment, unaware of the dark encounter unfolding just beneath them. Humans were so fragile...
Then, slowly, Echo raised his hand, his fingers curled into a loose fist. The shadows around him seemed to bend, darkening the alley further, thickening with every passing second. The air felt colder, more suffocating.
"You really think you can stop me, don’t you?" he asked, his voice lowering to a deadly whisper as he took another step forward. His red eyes burned with an unspoken promise of destruction. "I’ve been tracking him for days. His darkness is my domain. I’ve already claimed him, whether you believe it or not. And if you stand in my way, I’ll destroy you too."
Lumi’s heart raced at his words, but she refused to be intimidated. She was an angel, and her purpose was clear. She would protect him.
"You can’t claim what doesn’t belong to you," she replied, her voice unwavering. "Anakin is not yours to take."
For a long moment, the demon's gaze remained fixed on her. A strange stillness filled the air between them. The tension was thick—both of them standing firm, unwilling to give an inch.
Finally, Echo let out a low chuckle.
"You won’t stop me," he said, his tone turning cold again. "You’ll regret standing in my way."
Lumi stood tall, unyielding, her golden eyes fixed on his.
"We’ll see," she said, her voice calm but resolute. "Perhaps it'll be you the one to regret it."
Echo’s gaze was firm, unwavering, as he studied her closely, sensing the intensity in her stance. He was trying to break her, to force her to back off, but the angel didn’t flinch. Her emotions were bubbling inside of her, a mixture of anger, frustration, and a growing sense of something deeper—something that wasn’t going to be shaken.
His lips curled into a cold, almost amused smile as he took a small step closer, his eyes narrowing.
"Mm. Can’t remember seeing a furious angel before," he mused, his voice low and teasing. "Are you sure you’re not a fallen one, pretty angel? Wouldn’t surprise me to see one of yours failing to do their task again. More work for me, huh?"
Lumi’s eyes flashed with shock, the words cutting deeper than she expected. She was momentarily stunned by the weight of what he’d implied, but it was enough to send her temper flaring. Her teeth clenched, and she snapped back, the words tumbling out with more force than she intended.
"There are different types of protectiveness," she shot back, her voice sharp and full of defiance. "We’re not all the same like you fucking demon clones. And you wouldn’t have more work to do if you didn’t attribute ours."
Echo’s expression shifted, a wicked grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "I’ll be back for this one, Angel," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "We'll see each other again."
Without another word, the demon turned, disappearing into the shadows from which he’d emerged, his presence leaving the air thick with his dark energy.
Lumi stood still for a long moment, the silence swallowing the alley as she watched him vanish. Her wings slowly folded in against her back, the light dimming just slightly. She let out a breath, the weight of his words settling heavily in her chest. The encounter had shaken her more than she cared to admit.
The space between her and Anakin—just a few floors above—felt impossibly vast now, and the burden of her task weighed heavily on her. But she wasn’t going to back down. She would stop the demon from hurting him.
Anakin hadn’t slept since that night. The dreams hadn’t stopped, only sharpened—visions of ash and feathers, of burning eyes and cold hands reaching for him in the dark. Even in waking hours, something stalked just outside his perception. He’d stopped mentioning it to Obi-Wan or Ahsoka. What could he even say? That something was hunting him? He didn’t believe it himself.
But Lumi did.
She stayed close now, never fully revealing herself, but always there. An unseen warmth that hovered at the edge of his consciousness—a gentle shield whenever his thoughts turned too dark. She walked rooftops in silence, her light dimmed to avoid drawing attention. Her eyes never left him. Not since the alley.
And she knew he was watching too. Echo.
He hadn’t made another approach, but she could feel him—like the chill left by a storm cloud creeping across the sky. The demon’s presence lingered. He was patient. Calculating. Waiting for her guard to drop, for Anakin to break. She couldn’t let that happen.
And yet, every night it was a game of shadows. Anakin tossing in his bed. Lumi, posted just beyond his window ledge, wings wrapped tight. And somewhere below, Echo—lurking, watching, biding.
Until the attack came.
It started as a tremor.
Lumi felt it before she saw it—a rippling, unnatural energy pulsing through the city like a distant heartbeat. She turned sharply toward the alley behind the apartment, narrowing her eyes. Something was coming.
A heartbeat later, the monster revealed itself—tall, sinewy, more smoke than flesh, its form shifting like ink underwater. Its eyes glowed the color of dried blood, and its mouth stretched open in a silent, impossible scream. It was hunting. And it had found him.
Lumi dropped from the rooftop like a blade of light, hitting the pavement hard. Her wings flared, throwing up a barrier just as the creature lunged at Anakin’s window.
The beast collided with her shield, snarling as it twisted in the air. It slashed at the barrier again and again, each impact echoing like a bell toll. Lumi gritted her teeth, golden runes glowing as she fought to hold the line.
“Stay back!” she hissed, light lashing out from her fingertips, trying to push the thing away.
But it was relentless. The creature didn’t stop. It slammed against her shield —and again—and again. Each hit chipped away at her shield.
Lumi grit her teeth and pushed forward, wings flaring again, this time unleashing a burst of radiant force that sent the Rak’hir tumbling into the alley wall.
Her breathing was ragged now. Her energy was draining fast.
The beast recovered faster than she expected.
It came at her again—its limbs blurring, claws slashing. Lumi blocked the first, dodged the second, but the third caught her across the ribs, tearing fabric and drawing blood.
She cried out but didn’t fall. She staggered back, summoned a sharp flash of light to stun the monster, then launched a forceful pulse that cracked the pavement beneath it.
It wasn’t enough.
The Rak’hir shrieked and slammed her back against the wall. Her right wing crumpled against the stones. She coughed, gasped—but still pushed forward, raising a trembling hand to summon another shield.
Her light flickered. Fear —one she hadn't felt in a lifetime, swallowed her. Was this going to be her end?
Just as the creature reared for a final strike—
He appeared.
A spear of shadow sliced through the air, hitting the beast square in the side and slamming it into the floor.
Echo stepped from the shadows like death itself. His red eyes burned.
He was all sharp lines and dark energy, his cloak moving like smoke around him. He didn’t look at Lumi—he didn’t need to. His entire focus was on the Rak’hir.
"You shouldn’t be here," he growled to the creature, voice low and lethal.
The Rak’hir roared in response, but it was already backing away.
Echo advanced.
The shadows around him twisted and thickened, forming jagged weapons, chains, and dark spikes that slashed through the alley with precision. The Rak’hir fought back, shrieking and thrashing, warping its body to avoid his attacks.
Lumi, still breathing hard, forced herself upright. She didn’t trust the demon —not fully— but she wasn’t going to let him fight it alone.
With what strength she had left, she lifted her arms and threw out a shimmering arc of protective light toward Echo, catching one of the beast’s stray limbs before it could hit him.
He didn’t glance back—but he felt it. And for a moment, their movements synced.
Lumi sent bursts of golden force between his strikes, shielding his exposed side with radiant barriers when the beast moved too fast. Echo, in turn, drove the monster back with vicious blows—each one drawing more smoke, more shrieks, more darkness.
They moved together—light and shadow, clashing and complementing, two forces never meant to coexist, fighting as one.
Lumi’s energy was nearly gone. Her vision blurred at the edges, but she kept going. She unleashed a final blinding flare directly into the creature’s many eyes. It screamed—stunned for just long enough.
Echo seized the opening.
He leapt high, shadows coiling around his arms like armor, and slammed down with the force of a collapsing void. The creature buckled, then shattered into smoke and ash. It dissipated quickly; the darkness then inmediately reabsorbed.
The alley fell silent.
Lumi exhaled shakily, the effort of maintaining her stance draining the last of her strength. Her legs finally gave out beneath her. She collapsed to the ground, knees hitting first, then hands, then nothing at all.
Her glow dimmed. Blood ran freely from the gash at her side.
Echo turned, breathing heavily, his face pale and drawn—but still standing. He walked to her and knelt slowly.
She was still conscious—barely. Her eyes met his, cloudy with pain.
“You protected me” he murmured, almost to himself. “You protected a demon.”
Her eyes fluttered, barely open.
“I can’t help someone who can’t be saved,” she breathed, just a whisper now. “I guess… there’s good inside you, too.”
And with that, her body went still.
Echo sat there for a long moment, his hand hovering inches above her cheek. Then he reached out—trembling slightly—and brushed her skin with the back of his fingers. More curious than confused, more admiration than hate.
Soft. Warm. Still alive.
He clenched his jaw, stood, and lifted her into his arms.
He didn’t know what he was doing. Only that he couldn’t leave her to die there.
Echo’s grip on Lumi was firm but gentle, carrying her unconscious form through the winding paths of his realm. Shadows clung to the jagged spires and twisting streets like living smoke, eyes glinting from the darkness as if every corner held a watcher. The air was thick, heavy with heat and the faint scent of brimstone. Every step was a reminder that they were far from the world the angel knew—a place where their counterparts belonged.
“You can’t be serious,” hissed a familiar voice behind him. Fives stepped forward, eyes blazing with distrust. “You’re bringing an angel here? Into our world?”
Echo’s jaw tightened, his eyes sharp and unyielding. “She’s been wounded by a Rak’hir. This is the only place where I can attempt to draw out the darkness he inflicted in her safely.”
Tension sparked in the air. Fives sighed, still thinking this was not the best course of action and wondering why his brother was risking it all for someone who probably despised him and their kin.
“…if Palpatine finds out, we’re all dead.”
Echo’s jaw clenched, his darkness pulsing around him.
“Then he’ll never know.” His words were calm, but the weight behind them made the air tremble.
Without another word, he carried Lumi through an imposing archway and into a chamber hidden deep within the twisting labyrinth of his home. The faint glow of molten rock traced intricate, alien patterns across the floor. It was beautiful in a terrifying way.
Echo laid the unconscious angel down carefully on the dark, cushioned bed in the center of the room. Hours passed in silence, save for the faint hum of the demon realm beyond. Lumi’s eyelids fluttered occasionally, but her injuries and exhaustion kept her in a deep, dreamless sleep. Outside, the demons prawled and whispered, but inside this room, a fragile bubble of quiet held her.
When she finally stirred, a gasp tore from her throat. Her eyes opened to darkness softened by the dim glow of the chamber. Shadows danced along the walls, casting strange, shifting shapes that made her heart pound. Slowly, panic crept in as realization settled over her: she was an angel—alone—in the demon realm.
Every muscle ached, both of her wings trembled. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, her breaths shallow. She swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed. Her heart pounded in her ears—not just from exhaustion, but from the reality of where she was. Her mind raced, imagining what could be waiting just beyond the room, in the vast, shadowed halls. She tried to steady herself.
Echo was there, kneeling beside her, eyes dark and unreadable but holding a strange, steady calm.
“You’re safe, Angel” he said softly, perhaps sensing her fear, his voice low and measured. “But I need you to stay here. Do not leave this room.”
Her gaze flitted around, and then back to him. Why am I here? Can I trust him? Or has he trapped me? Is he planning something else? Each thought collided with the memory of the pain she had endured outside, and the undeniable reality that he had saved her.
The demon's hands hovered above her, careful not to touch unless necessary. His jaw was tight, emotions pressed down, contained. He had to leave soon—there was work he could not ignore—but he could not leave her unprotected.
“Stay inside. Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone” he ordered, firm but not unkind. “Just rest until I get back”.
Lumi nodded, fear and caution warring with the fragile thread of trust she felt toward him. Her body was weak, her wings ached, but she did not move from the bed. She watched as he stepped back, jaw clenched, eyes flicking once toward her before he vanished into the shadows.
Alone, the weight of the demon realm pressed in on her. The walls seemed to breathe, the shadows whispering secrets she could not understand. Fear, doubt, and a strange flicker of gratitude swirled inside her. Did he bring me here just because I helped him? Is he trying to pay me back? Why did he even step in against the monster in the first place? Why not... Let it kill me, then kill Anakin himself? What does he want from me?
Every sense was heightened—the faint heat from the walls, the low hum of energy in the air, the darkness around her. And yet, even in that terror, a part of her recognized something… protective. Something that told her she might survive this place. But survival, she realized, came at the cost of trust—and she was not sure if she was ready to trust him.
The door shut with a low thud, sealing Echo’s presence out of the room. For a long moment, Lumi sat frozen, staring at the carved patterns on the stone as though they might shift again and reveal some hidden threat.
Silence pressed down on her, thick and heavy. Only the low hum of the walls remained, a deep vibration she felt in her bones. Her golden runes ached faintly on her skin, the faintest flicker of light tracing across them—like her body was fighting the foreign shadows still coursing inside her.
He told me to stay. To rest.
Her chest tightened. Her instinct screamed at her to move, to run, to find light again. But what good would it do? She was in the heart of the demon realm. Even if she escaped the room, there were corridors filled with shadows, millions of demons breathing the same air. They would notice her immediately—her wings, her light, her very soul would betray her.
Her hands trembled as she pulled her knees to her chest, wings wrapping around herself like a cocoon. “Why here?” she whispered into the dimness. “Why did he bring me here?”
The question gnawed at her. Every angel had been taught demons were merciless—executioners designed to kill. But Echo… Had looked at her differently. Not with hunger, not with scorn, but with something closer to… resolve. Determination. Maybe even a flicker of concern.
Her pulse quickened at the thought, and she shook her head sharply. No. He’s a demon. They can’t care. They can’t…
Still, the memory of his voice lingered—steady, low, almost grounding. The protective stance and grip on her. That truth—the posibiliy of demon's being more than the evil tales she had always heard, unsettled her almost more than the shadows themselves.
Minutes crawled by, the voices outside fading. She sagged back onto the bed, trembling, the weight of her fear pressing down like a mountain.
She hated it. The fear. The helplessness. She was an angel—she was supposed to be a guardian, a shield. Yet here she was, hiding in the dark, depending on a demon. Was Anakin even okay?
Her thoughts tangled, a storm of contradiction. He brought me here to save me. He’s the reason I’m breathing. But if he wanted to hurt me, he couldn’t have chosen a crueler prison.
Hours crept by in silence. Lumi had no way of telling time here; there was no sun, no familiar rhythm of light and shadow, only the constant hum of the walls and the faint glow of her own runes whenever she lost focus on suppressing them.
She shifted on the bed, wincing at the dull ache in her side where the monster’s venom lingered. Echo had patched her wound, but she felt weak still. It would probably take a few days of rest to feel okay.
Her gaze wandered around the room, hesitant at first, then with growing curiosity. She had expected the living space of a demon to be cold, barren, perhaps littered with weapons or bones. Instead, the chamber felt… personal.
The walls were carved stone, yes, but smoothed with care, lined with shelves. On them rested small things: trinkets of dark metal, strange stones that pulsed with a muted glow—Lumi didn't think it served any purpose other than purely decorational, scrolls tied neatly with black cord. There was a blade propped in the corner, its edge etched with runes she didn’t recognize, yet it wasn’t displayed like a trophy—more like a tool set aside after use.
Her eyes caught on something stranger still. A strip of parchment pinned above the desk, covered in handwriting. Notes, sketches… diagrams of runes. Demon runes. The sight made her breath hitch. Their scripts weren’t supposed to resemble hers, yet here—though rougher, sharper—she saw patterns that mirrored angelic wards. Almost like Echo had been… studying.
Her fingers itched to trace them, but she forced herself still. Don’t. Don’t touch. Don’t even think it.
She tore her gaze away, focusing on the bed again. Her wings curled tighter around her as the unease in her chest grew. Every angel was taught the same truth: demons had no desire for knowledge, only destruction. Yet Echo’s room whispered of order, of restraint, of someone who did not entirely fit the mold she had been warned about. Of someone who wanted more than what had been first assigned to him.
That contradiction unsettled her more than anything.
Another faint noise drifted through the walls—a heavy step, a muffled growl, voices speaking in low tones. She swallowed hard, remaining in complete silence—almost holding off her breathing, until the sound—the danger, passed.
Lumi exhaled and layed back down on the bed. The room was suffocating, both prison and sanctuary. And she was caught in between—fear gnawing at her, mistrust anchoring her down, yet curiosity and hope creeping in, slow and dangerous like the shadows themselves.
The door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the walls. Lumi flinched, her breath catching as she sat upright on the bed. Echo stepped in, shadows trailing after him like smoke, his chest heaving with the rough rhythm of someone who had just been fighting—or killing. His black clothes were streaked with dark stains, and his hands trembled faintly, curling into fists as though he hadn’t yet come down from the surge of battle.
For a moment he didn’t even look at her, only braced his palms against the table as though the wood was the only thing keeping him upright. Then his eyes snapped to her, sharp and cutting.
“I see you actually stayed,” he said flatly, voice rough, lined with exhaustion.
Lumi swallowed. Her runes itched faintly under her skin, glowing soft gold in response to her unease. “You told me to,” she answered, steady but quiet, cautious.
Echo gave a humorless snort, shaking his head. “I wasn't sure if you'd listen. After all, angels have been ignoring demons for lifetimes.”
The words stung, and a part of her wanted to bite the bait and protest, but she forced herself to push past them. She studied him, the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders twitched like he was still braced for a fight.
“What kind of work leaves you like this?” she asked carefully, nodding toward the stains on his long-sleeved shirt, the restless edge to his movements. “You escaped mostly untouched from the Rak'hir, and that's a powerfull dark spirit. What can possibly...?”
His gaze flicked to her, dangerous now, like she had stepped over a line. “Rak'hirs, powerfull spirits?” he laughed, dry and humourless, his facial expresions hardening instantly. “They're a playground compared to some of the monsters that roam human realm. The evil and darkness we can't kill in time can group and transform into really terrifying things. Anakin's will for sure, it's already begging to be released from that tiny fragile human body.”
The angel ignored the pun, still reluctant to believe what the demon claimed. She had seen light in the young man herself and she just knew he could be saved.
Echo turned away as if to put distance between them.
Luminous pressed on, her voice firmer this time. She was tired of wondering. She wanted answers. “Why did you help me, then? It doesn't make sense. You could’ve left me to die. You'd have free way for Anakin then. Isn’t that what a demon’s supposed to do?”
For a long moment, silence thickened in the small room. Echo’s back was to her, broad and unmoving, but she could see his hands clenching tighter, shadows curling around his wrists like they were drawn to his anger. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough, almost bitter:
“Don’t mistake this for kindness.” He turned just enough that his dark red eyes found hers, gleaming faintly in the gloom. “I didn’t save you for your sake. I did it because…” His jaw tightened, the words strangled before they could leave. “…Because letting that poison win would’ve been worse.”
The edge in his voice was sharp enough to cut, and Lumi felt a tremor run down her spine. Standing there now, shadows whispering at his heels and anger radiating from every movement, Echo looked every bit the demon her kind had warned her about.
When he stepped forward toward her, she had to fight the impulse to back up on the bed. The demon's expresion looked murderous; barely controlled enough to hide his hunger to kill. Lumi was suddenly reminded of how vulnerable she was here; not recovered enough to use her runes at her full potential and surrounded by demons who would have no remorse to kill her.
“You don't even know how a Rak'hir's venom works, do you?” he lowered himself down so he was sitting in the edge of the bed, so close Lumi could feel the expanding cold of the shadows playing around him. “The venom it inflicts is the real reason why one should be carefull with that monster. It's not the fact that it can kill you; it's that it will turn anything it infects with part of his soul, evil and darkness that will consume everything until the possibly kind creature you once were is no longer there.”
He was so close to her face now, his features so alive with that burning anger, that Lumi couldn't try to look anywhere else. She was almost mesmerised by his danger.
Echo showed her a tiny, cruel smirk.
“There's a little lie your dear Great Angels have been telling you since your soul was sharpened into form, Luminous. Because at the beginning of the three realms, demons weren't born simultaneously to angels, oh no. Palpatine, the Demon King, was once an angel too, just like Yoda or any of the other Great ones; and it was a hoard of Rak'hir who changed him, poisoned him with centuries of evilness and darkness until no light remained. Until the first Demon was shaped into humanoid form.”
At the shocked expresion of the pretty angel's face, Echo chuckled, finally backing away and standing at the feet of the bed, letting her breathe in the new space. Adrenaline still pounded through his veins, and he made an effort to keep his emotions at bay.
“You can take a read about the actual truth of our origins if you like, Angel” he pointed to one of the shelves pressed against the stone wall and fake smiled “Top shelve, it's the third one to the left.”
The demon dissapeared into the bathroom.
Lumi read, and her world tilted on it's edge again.
Luminous sat cross-legged on Echo’s floor, the book open in her lap, its pages smelling faintly of dust and old ink. She traced the letters with her finger, though her mind wasn’t really on the words—it was on what they revealed.
The origins of demons. According to the book, the first demon had once been an angel, radiant and whole, until a horde of rak’hirs twisted it into something dark, something vengeful, feeding on his light for decades until it extinguished. Everything about it—the anger, the cruelty, the relentless hunger—was the product of that torment. Palpatine had then used a human woman to propagate that same corruption, creating the first generations of demon clones.
Lumi’s chest tightened. She had read it all, absorbed the details, but her mind kept circling back to the same questions. Why had the Great Angels hidden this truth from them? Was it to keep them from fearing monsters, to make them fight without hesitation, without the fear of ending like demons? Or was it… worse? To keep them from feeling? From seeing demons as beings capable of inflicting more than pain or death, from having compassion, from understanding them?
She left the book on it's shelve again and layed down on the demon's bed, gaze fixed on the stone ceiling above her. When Echo came out of the shower, he was quiet too; the anger he had felt before seemingly having dissipated with the blood and sweat.
Lumi’s fingers tightened around the edge of the bed. She wanted to speak, to test the waters, but every word felt heavy, laden with more than just apology. She was still confused, too; too many thoughts and changes to process.
Finally, when Echo settled beside her on the bed, both of them silent, Lumi let her voice slip out, tentative, almost fragile.
“Echo… I’m sorry.”
Echo turned slightly to look at her. His expression was unreadable for a long moment, just the faintest crease between his brows.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly, his voice low but steady. “For what happened. Or for… anything you can’t control. I might have over reacted with the adrenaline I still carried from the outside.”
Lumi’s chest tightened further, her thoughts swirling. She wanted to tell him everything—the doubts, the fear, the sorrow for the first demon, about how maybe, just maybe, they could create the first angel/demon alliance—but she didn’t know if she could put it into words. Not yet.
“I just…” she started, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers twisted in the edge of the blanket. “…I don’t know how to feel about all of it. About them. About what the angels hid, if that book holds the truth. About… You. And everything.”
Echo shifted slightly closer, the movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible, but it was enough. Enough to let her know he was there, not judging, not pressing, just… present.
“You'll figure it out,” he murmured. “One step at a time.”
Lumi’s lips twitched, a faint, tentative smile breaking through. She let herself lean just a little, her shoulder brushing his. The heaviness in her chest didn’t vanish, but it felt… lighter. Shared.
The Safe Temple seemed like a distant memory now. Days had passed since the Rak’hir’s venom had torn through Lumi’s veins, leaving her trembling and hollow, her light flickering like a candle in the wind. She was improving—her glow had steadied, the pain had ebbed—but Echo had warned her time and again: the darkness still nested inside her, buried deep where her runes could not reach. To remove it too soon would be reckless, he said. If done wrong, the extraction could shatter her soul, corrupt her light, or worse—leave her somewhere in between, neither angel nor demon, lost in an endless void.
And so she waited, healing slowly under the unspoken truce of his protection. She did not belong here, in the Demon Realm, but Echo had hidden her well. For now.
That night, she heard him before she saw him.
The door burst open with a slam, shaking the room’s frame. Echo strode inside, his steps heavy, his presence darker than usual. His eyes burned with that unsettling shade of red, wild with leftover adrenaline, and his skin was streaked with blood—some his own, some not. An unstelling painting of red and black.
Lumi froze, not knowing what to do about it.
Echo didn’t look at her. Didn’t say a word. He went straight for the bathroom. Another slam, sharper than the first. She heard the rush of the tap, water running then cut short, the harsh thud of fabric angrily hitting the floor, the creak of pipes as the shower roared to life.
Then silence.
No— not silence. The muted thump of his head hitting the tile. Then two smaller ones, perhaps his clenched fists resting against the shower walls too. Water pounding down, drowning everything except the steady ache in her chest. It was just in her being the need to comfort and help; and she had never done a good job at ignoring the chance to do so.
Lumi sat there, hands tangled in her lap, the book she had been reading now abandoned in the bed, her wings pressed tightly to her back. She wanted to ask, wanted to whisper through the door if he was alright—but fear and caution kept her quiet. If she interrupted him, reminded him that she was technically an enemy... Would he snap back?
Minutes passed, only the hiss of water and the echo of her own heartbeat filling the air. She was on her way to standing up, bare feet brushing the cold stone floor, when the shower cut off. Her breath caught.
The door opened, steam curling out into the room like smoke. Echo stepped into the dim light, bare-chested, only a pair of dark pants clinging to his frame. Droplets of water still ran down his skin, tracing lines between scars—scars upon scars, old ones faded into silver and pink, newer ones raw and red, layered over his chest, his arms, his sides. Battle written into his body like scripture.
Lumi gasped before she could stop herself. Not loud, but enough for the demon to hear her. A sound of shock, of pain that wasn’t hers but might as well have been. He looked... Broken, and yet, so very much alive.
Echo’s gaze flicked to her. Just for a heartbeat; as if he had suddenly remembered he had brought an angel to his own very room in Demon Realm. He scanned her, quick, sharp, making sure she was unharmed—then turned away as if it meant nothing. He crossed the room, shoulders heavy, movements rigid, and collapsed onto the bed beside her.
“Night" he muttered flatly, already rolling to face the wall and not the concerned, anxious expresion on her face. With a flick of his hand, the light went out, plunging the room into quiet shadow.
But Lumi still glowed. Not brightly—just a soft, fragile shimmer, her runes humming faintly against her skin. She lay still, watching the broad expanse of his back.
That was when she saw them for the first time.
Runes. But not like hers—hers flowed in elegant curves, gold threaded with light, each mark crafted with nurturing purpose. His were jagged, sharp, carved deep into his flesh as though angrily torn rather than carefully drawn. Dark purple, crisscrossing one another, their sharpness biting into his skin even in stillness. Not quite similar to the ones she had seen on the parchment on his desk before; those looked somewhere in between.
She stared, her breath shallow, a thousand thoughts colliding in her mind. Questions. Wonder. A quiet ache she didn’t want to name.
He carried scars she couldn’t even begin to count. He was a demon. And yet, sleeping there in the same bed—he just felt like a man. A tired, and troubled man.
He had fought monsters she couldn't even begin to name and still he slept with his back turned, as if imaginary walls between them were safer than facing the worry in her face.
She wanted to ask him. Wanted to whisper his name into the silence, to bridge the endless distance of the few inches between their bodies.
But when she parted her lips, no sound came out.
Because what would she even say? I’m sorry for your scars? Do you want to talk? I don’t know why I don’t hate you? None of it seemed right. None of it felt safe.
So she stayed quiet. His name lingered on her tongue, heavy as a prayer she couldn’t admit she wanted to make.
The exhausted demon soon fell to the tempting, numbing comfort of sleep; but Lumi layed there, glowing faintly in the dark, unable to tear her eyes of the demon's back. A map of purple runes and scars.
The days pass in a strange rhythm. Small conversations here and there, brief moments when silence feels almost companionable. Lumi is healing—slowly, her light returning, though Echo insists it isn’t time yet.
“You won’t stay here forever, you know that, right?” he says one evening, voice quiet, steady, while she fusses with the thin blanket over her lap.
Her anxious glance softens.
“You’ll just need a week more or two, probably” Echo continues, eyes sliding away, “and you’ll be safe to go.”
A warm, genuine smile spreads across her lips. “Thank you, Echo.”
He only gives a short nod, already turning away to implant his imaginary wall. “Good night, angel.”
Another night comes. Luminous waits, watching the door, hours dragging with no sign of the demon returning. Trapped inside this room, Echo is her anchor to sanity. The only thing to entertain herself with beside his collection of books -which Lumi had already gone through half of the shelves-. Her anxiety grows heavier with each minute. A difficult mission? A fight? Has someone discovered her? What if—
The door finally creaks open.
Echo stumbles in, dark eyes dimmer than usual. His chest rises and falls in shallow bursts. He looks seconds away from unconsciousness; the worst shape the angel had ever seen him in.
“Echo—! What-what happened?” Lumi rushes forward, reaching him just before he collapses against the wall.
He groans, stumbling forward with her pannicked aid and fumbling for the small med kit in the bathroom. “Crassar… spines… Need—need you to pull them out.”
Echo winces when he takes his soaked shirt off. Lumi's eyes widen, horrified at the sight of jagged dark spines lodged deep into his side and shoulder. Realisation hits her and she whispers in doubt “…That’ll rip part of your skin off.”
His hands shake as he forces the kit open, jaw clenched. “I-I know. Don’t care. If they stay, they’ll rot the tissue—infect it, then sink into my blood vessels. The longer we wait, the worse it’ll get. I need you to take them out.”
Lumi hesitates. This will hurt like hell. It'll be... bloody. Almost like torture. But he needs it. It's... a different brand of help than the one she is used to offer, but help nonetheless. And she has always had a backbone for tough things.
Her voice steadies, firm with quiet resolve. “Okay. Turn around and sit down. Put a towel in your mouth.”
Echo obeys with a grunt, lowering himself to the floor in front of her. He shoves a folded towel between his teeth, body tense and ready for pain.
Lumi readies the tweezers, her own hands shaking as she steadies the jar for the spines. Her breath hitches. And then, in contradiction- “Breathe.”
He inhales, and the angel grips the first spine. She takes a second to center herself. Then, with a sharp pull, it tears free -at the cost of some of Echo's mostly superficial skin.
A muffled cry is released against the towel, Echo’s entire frame shaking involuntarily with the pain. His fists clench, knuckles white. Eyelids shut holding back tears.
Lumi blinks back her own, swallowing hard. She doesn’t stop. She can't, even if she wants to. She swallows down, and one by one, she extracts the spines, the sound of tearing flesh filling the small room. Each whimper that escapes him cuts through her chest, but she pushes on.
“I’m sorry” she whispers, again and again, words like a prayer as her eyes brim. “I’m sorry, Echo… just a little more.”
Finally, the last spine clatters into the jar. Echo is shaking, drenched in sweat and trails of blood, breath ragged.
Lumi sets the tools aside quickly, scooping balm from the medkit into her hands. She spreads it carefully over the wounds, then closes her eyes, voice trembling as she murmurs healing runes under her breath. The faint glow of her light seeps into his skin, calming the burn, slowing the bleeding. Numbing the pain.
His body sags with exhaustion and desperately needed relief, half-conscious.
“Let’s help you to bed now, Echo,” she says softly, guiding him with steady arms outside of the bathroom.
He stumbles but lets her lead him. His lips twitch into something like a broken smile. “M’filthy. Going to stain everything.”
A breathless laugh escapes her, wet with relief. “We’ll survive. You need rest more than you need to look immaculately menacing, you know.”
She settles him onto the bed. As she tucks the blanket around him, he turns his head, eyes half-lidded but sharp enough to catch the shine of a tear sliding down her cheek.
“…Why are you crying, little angel?”
Her lips tremble into a smile. She kneels beside him, brushing his damp forehead, her touch feather-light with care. “I might be growing fond of you, Echo... You’re not all bad. You scare me sometimes—all that hate and coldness inside you. But… there’s also a quiet kindness. A warmth you seem to be oh so persistent to hide.”
The demon's eyes flicker, unreadable. They don't look as terrifying as she once thought they did. “…You’ve stayed too long down here. It’s evidently affecting your judgment.”
Her smile softens further, her thumb tracing gently across his temple. “Mm. Better not tell anyone, then. Sleep, Echo.”
He exhales slowly, the fight finally draining from his body, and lets himself fall into unconsciousness.
Lumi stays at his side, her hand still resting in his hair. Her thoughts swirl—dangerous, forbidden, but undeniable. Something is changing. In him. In her. The line between them blurring, impossible to ignore. If she's getting lost, she's not sure she wants to be found.
Echo came and went, sometimes returning whole, sometimes wounded, always carrying with him the heavy air of battles Lumi could only imagine. Yet in between, in the quiet of his room, something fragile began to form.
Amicable respect. Tentative conversation.
Lumi noticed first. The way his skin seemed less ashen than when she’d first woken in his world, the cold cast to him softening as though warmth was returning where once there had been only frost. Sometimes, when he didn’t think she was watching, the tension in his shoulders eased, as if the presence of another being —even an angel, a supposed enemy— dulled some unseen weight.
It began with small questions.
Her: “Do you… have dreams?”
Him, after a pause: “Not of things remotely realistic.”
Then his, equally hesitant: “What’s your realm like?”
Her smile, faint but true: “Endless. Bright. Warm.”
They shared fragments — shards of memory, of places neither could visit in their own on the other’s realm without tearing the world in half. And though their words were careful, veiled, each answer laid a stone on a bridge neither had intended to build.
Yet beneath Echo’s quiet voice, beneath this growing, temptative friendship, his thoughts churned.
He should not enjoy this. Not her laughter, soft though it was. Not her gaze, gentle even when wary. Angels were hypocrites draped in light. They had abandoned demons to claw through centuries of blood and evilness alone. Where angels refused to strike, demons bore the burden — slaying men too cruel to let live, monsters and spirits too vile to deserve mercy. They did the work angels deemed themselves too holy to touch.
And for that, demons were called evil. Condemned. Forsaken.
Echo knew this truth as surely as he knew the scars carved into his flesh. Hatred had guided him, sharpened him, kept him standing when all else threatened to break.
But now…
Lumi’s presence unraveled him in ways he hadn’t thought possible.
When she asked about his battles, he wanted to tell her. When she looked at him without fear — or worse, with pity — he wanted to shake her, to remind her that he was born of darkness, that her kind had no right to see anything else. That each of them had their own side of the balance to keep. And yet, when her hand brushed his once by accident, when her light seemed to warm the air itself, something in him tightened, something old and restless and dangerous. Something he barely remembered feeling from when he was a child and had first felt at the sight of his twin, Fives.
She should be his enemy.
Instead, she was becoming a tether.
At night, when she dozed beside him, he found himself often shifting from his usual resting position on his side to stare at her, replaying her words in his head. “You’re not all bad… there’s also a quiet kindness, and warmth.”
Kindness. Warmth. Words meant for another –for angels–, not for him. And yet they burrowed deep, defying the very hatred that had defined his existence.
He hated her for it.
And at the same time, he wasn’t sure what he’d do without it. Those words... Were the hope for Echo's very unrealistic dreams. For the mix of purple and golden runes that were scribbled on the parchments on his desks; the ones he had secretly being working on for decades. His hope.
The days bled into nights, and nights into more of that strange rhythm they had fallen into. Lumi felt herself healing — her ribs no longer screamed every time she moved, her glow had grown steadier, but there was something off. Subtle at first. Her laugh sometimes rang a little sharper than intended, her patience was thinner, and she caught herself feeling surges of irritation that weren’t… her. Her warmth flickered, like a candle threatened by a constant draft.
She didn’t say it aloud, but Echo knew. He had been watching closely — too closely. He saw the way her light faltered in odd pulses, the faint tremors beneath her skin. He knew that poison. He knew it like his own blood.
One evening, after another long day where he had returned battered and she had patched him up in silence, he didn’t lay down right away. He stood at the edge of the room, eyes unreadable, jaw set hard as if bracing himself for a storm.
“It’s time,” he finally said. His voice was low, rough, almost reluctant.
Lumi curled up in the blankets, blinked at him. “Time for what?”
His eyes, dark and endless, flicked toward her ribcage, to the hidden wound beneath. “For me to take it out. The darkness. If we wait longer, it’ll root too deep. It’ll change you.”
Her breath caught. She had felt it. That shadow that didn’t belong to her. Her hand instinctively touched her ribs, as if she could stop the poison from invading her with that. “What happens if you don’t?” she whispered, though part of her didn’t want the answer.
“You’ll turn,” Echo said bluntly, voice like stone. But something flickered in his gaze — something fragile and dangerous. “You won’t be you anymore. You’ll… belong here. With us. With me.”
The words tasted wrong on his tongue. Temptation laced every syllable. The thought of her falling — of her light burning out and becoming dark like his — had haunted him these nights. A part of him wanted it. Wanted her bound to his realm forever, no angel watching, no heaven to claim her. Just him. Just them.
But that wouldn’t be Lumi. Not the Lumi who smiled despite fear, not the Lumi who touched his scars like they weren’t something vile. Not the Lumi with endless compasion and empathy. If she turned, she’d be gone. Her smiles wouldn't be warm, but cold. Her delicate expresions would churn with the burning rage of hate an anger.
He clenched his jaw, fighting the quiet ache that settled in his chest. He couldn't let the voice inside of him that screamed and begged to let the poison take it's route win.
When he crossed the room, his steps were heavy, his aura bristling with restrained power. Lumi’s heart raced, unsure if it was fear or something else. Unbeknowns to him, a similar trace of thoughts swarm inside of her own mind.
He knelt beside her, and rested a hand over the scar that marked her ribs.
“This will hurt,” he warned.
She nodded faintly, searching his face. “I trust you”.
That cracked something inside him.
His fingers pressed into her skin, his power seeping through. She gasped — not eaxctly in pain, but in shock at the pull. It was like icy chains ripping out roots that had latched into her very soul. The venom twisted, screamed, resisted. Lumi’s back arched, breath trembling as shadows coiled out of her, threads of darkness drawn to Echo’s hand.
He absorbed them all. Every drop. Every thorn of venom that had tried to corrupt her, he dragged into himself. And the moment it touched him, he felt it — the sweetest intoxication. A rush of power and something more dangerous, like tasting stolen light mingled with the familiar poison of his kind. It was bliss. It was ruin. It was hers. And it burned.
He gritted his teeth, forcing the pain down. He shoved what the Rak'hir had inflicted her with deep, locking it away inside the endless cavern of his own darkness.
Lumi slumped back against the pillows, drenched in sweat, chest heaving. The wound at her ribs stopped throbbing — it felt clean again. A weight she hadn't even noticed at first suddenly lifted from her spirit. She was safe.
Echo pulled his hands back, trembling, a faint purple haze flickering across his runes as he whispered hoarsely, “It’s done.”
When she looked at him, she didn’t see just a demon. She saw someone who had just given up the very thing his kind thrived on, just so she could stay herself.
Lumi’s heart ached, swelled, overflowed. She reached for him, her hand delicate against the rough line of his strong jaw.
“Thank you” she answered in a heartfelt whisper.
Lumi knew how hard that must have been to him. Not just the physical aspect of that extraction; but the will to do so. To not let the dangerous thoughts win. To let her keep being herself; even if it would make things more difficult to him.
For a long moment, Echo only stared, caught between resignment and a raw ache that felt like a wound. He had only felt that towards Fives before; love.
“Let's get some sleep in” he murmured quietly, the moment vulnerable. “I think we both need it.”
Echo didn't show Lumi his back that night. They slept face to face; staring silently at each other until sleep came.
The night was heavy, almost liquid in its stillness, broken only by the faint rustle of movement outside. Shadows coiled and shifted in the room, thin tendrils of darkness twisting like smoke in the angel's soft light. Echo trembled in his sleep, fingers clenching the sheets, lips parting in quiet whimpers. A shiver ran down his spine, subtle but unmistakable.
Lumi’s eyes snapped open. Her heart pounded, skin prickling with fear, yet instinct drove her forward. She leapt over him, hands outstretched, and felt the first touch of the darkness—a cold, biting sensation—scrape against her fingertips. Reflexively, she radiated warmth, fingers brushing over his shoulders, a shield that pushed against the black tide.
“Echo! Echo!” Her voice cracked like glass, a sharp contrast to the hissing shadows. Breath quick, lungs tight, she pressed her body over his, knees brushing against the mattress. The darkness recoiled, curling around her like a living thing, pushing and snapping, growing angry—but she held her ground, palms pressed to his chest, feeling his heartbeat thudding erratically beneath her touch.
He stirred, gasping awake, chest rising sharply. His eyes opened, a swirl of red and brown flecked with gold, and met hers. His lips quivered as he exhaled, warm air brushing her cheek. He understood the situation inmedietly.
“Angel…” his voice was softer than she had ever heard it. “Angel, stop. It’s okay.”
“Okay? It's trying to get to you!” she replied in panic. She doubled her efforts and pushed back forcibly at the black shadows trying to surpass her shield. “I won’t let it!”
He lifted a hand, fingertips brushing her wrist, gentle and grounding. Tilting her chin down, he met her gaze with a patience that made her chest ache. “…It’s my darkness,” he explained in a whisper, low and almost sorrowful, the vibration of his voice resonating against her skin. “The evil I’ve conquered through all my life. Each victory... The weight grows heavier. Sometimes at night… it leaks out. To let this physical body rest. To breathe. During the day, I trap it back inside.”
Her chest tightened, lungs stuttering in overwhelming understanding. She felt it—the pressure of years, centuries, compressed around him, and how much he bore alone. She traced her fingers over his jaw, feeling the subtle warmth under her touch, and her thumb grazed a faint tremor at his temple. His skin was warm, his pulse rapid, and the soft sheen of sweat at his collarbone made her ache to soothe him.
“Echo…” she whispered, voice breaking, a few tears running down her cheeks quietly. Her forehead rested against his, and she felt his breath fan across her cheek, slow and deliberate.
He smiled softly, a ghost of light in the shadow of his burden. He almost looked like an angel like this; warm, soft, eyes traced with gold. This is what Echo could have been if he hadn't been forced to play demon, trapping all that darkness inside of him.
“It’s okay. Let go, Lumi. It’ll be fine.”
Her shields dissolved completely, surrendering to the truth of him. She collapsed against him fully, chest pressing to chest, limbs entangling, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat through every inch of her body. Fingers dug into his shoulders, and she wished she could lift even a fraction of the darkness that weighed him down.
The shadows and darkness filtered around her and rushed inside of the demon again, quietening and relaxing inside of his body. His eyes darkened to red again, his skin colder.
“I love you, Echo,” she whispered, voice wet with tears, lips brushing the curve of his jaw.
“You… you what?”
A shaky laugh slipped past her lips, damp with tears. “I love you,” she repeated, firmer now, letting the words sink into the space between them.
His chest tightened painfully. “You… can’t. You’re an angel, and I… We can’t be.”
“It's what I feel,” she murmured simply, closing the last fraction of distance before he backed away.
Their lips met—soft, tentative at first, then deeper, warmer. She felt the tiny heat of his lips against hers, the press of his colder body under hers, his hands tracing the line of her spine, anchoring her in place.
“There is darkness and light in all of us, Echo. Perhaps… this is how we coexist. Perhaps we can love like this.”
He stared, marveling, hand cupping her jaw, thumbs brushing against the curve of her cheekbone. His other hand rested lightly on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body against his. The shadows within him stirred, a living storm, but her presence held them at bay, their chaotic energy rippling against her skin but contained.
“I’ve been trying… to change things.” he finally confessed. Hope rising inside of him. “Learning from angels, their shields, their power… I’ve been creating runes, combining both demon and angel elements. You’ve… seen the parchments on my desk. Maybe…”
Her lips curved softly against his, wet and warm, brushing his jaw as her hands traced the gentle strength of his shoulders and back. “I’ll help you. Perhaps we misunderstood each other all along. Maybe we can work together instead of fighting. After all… our goal is the same: to control the darkness. We'll find a new method.”
He exhaled slowly, muscles relaxing fractionally under her touch. “It'll be hard. Neither of our sides will be supportive. It won’t be easy…”
She pressed her nose softly against his, the warmth of her breath seeping into his skin. “I’ve always liked my life a little complicated. I’m willing to try, if you are.”
His eyes lingered on hers, heart clenching, pupils dark. Finally, he whispered, “Yeah… yes. I am.”
They kissed again, slowly, deliberately, every brush of lips, every press of their bodies against each other magnified. His hands slid from her jaw down her back, spine arching under his touch, while hers threaded through his hair, pressing him closer. The shadows inside him shifted, writhing—but the warmth of her heart, her pulse, her very life pressed into his chest, made it bearable, even soothing.
Darkness rattled inside of the demon's body while he lost himself in the safety and warmth of the angels soul. She was there, steady, luminous, unafraid. Her tiny warmth flooding the cold, and he let himself be held, safe, for the first time in centuries.
Angel's and demon's had once had the same origin, long time ago; perhaps they could melt in one same ending once and for all.
Taraaa! It took me quite long to post this since I had other requests and stuff to write, but here it is finally, the last piece of the 100 celeb! (now we're almost at 200 lol).
I really loved this idea, hope you enjoyed the reading too!
Hey! So, for the recs, I just posted my work here finally and would like a little bit of a boost, please. New Members on Ao3, and here's Chapter 1 on here! Tysm! 😁
HELL YES FOR SELF RECS! I'm all about stories that include our favorite boys from the 501st, but the tag "Rex is So Done" really sells it for me hahaha. Also, always down for AUs (mainly because they leave the door open for happy/happier endings). And with the tag "Fives Lives" I AM ALL IN. PROTECT MY BOY. Thanks so much for the rec!
Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)
Shout out to my own work for Fandom Friday - I'm kinda new to writing fanfic and this is my first story. Any tips or anything that people might have while hopefully reading it would be super appreciated
It's New Members by fives_lover on Ao3!
WOOOT FOR SELF-PROMO and WELCOME TO THE FIC-WRITING COMMUNITY! It's scary putting your writing and yourself out there, so WELL DONE! And OOOOOH your description on New Members is VERY INTENSE and also intriguing! Love a good Domino Twin romance as well, so absolutely going to have to check this out! Thanks so much for sending your fic in!!!
Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)
