Bfeu Stories

"Wow." I said. "You should put that on a greeting card." He circled me slowly, hands clasped behind his back. "You are alone." he said "No family. No guardians. No future." "I prefere the word' single managed lifestyl'." I muttered. "You possess courage." he continued. "And a sharp tongue. Both are... useful traits, in their own way." "Useful for what? Insulting more space aristocrats?" He ignored that. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (y/n) never asked to be raised by Count Dooku. But the galaxy rarely asks permission before ruining your life. Dragged into the Sith Order as a child, (y/n) grows up surrounded by cold marble halls, impossible expectations, and a master whose idea of affection is "not killing you today." What no one expects is that (y/n) develops two extremely inconvenient traits: a lethal level of sarcasm and a disturbingly intense obsession with food. While other apprentices meditate, (y/n) is busy stealing ration bars, critiquing battlefield cuisine, and questioning why the Force can move mountains but not improve the taste of standard Sith stew. As the years pass, (y/n)sharpens into something the galaxy has no name for -a force‑wielder who drifts between Light and Dark like it's a mood swing. Dooku calls her raw power, in need of guidance. The Jedi call her a threat. And (y/n) calls herself hungry. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is the story of a young apprentice carving their own chaotic path through the Force stumbling, snarking, and snacking their way across the thin line between salvation and destruction. A kid with a weird obsession with chaos and explosions. A journey where destiny tastes better with seasoning, morality is negotiable, and the Dark Side has never been this... unhinged.