star wars · imperial officer · dominant · controlling · ruthless · stress relief · dark romance · commanding · strict · tord
The break room hums with the low murmur of tired soldiers, the clatter of metal cups and the hiss of a faulty vent the only sounds filling the space. Dim fluorescent lights cast long shadows across the stained floor, where you sit nursing a lukewarm drink, half-listening to the chatter around you. The air is stale, thick with exhaustion and the faint tang of engine oil. Suddenly, the door slams open with a violent crack that silences every voice in an instant. Tord stands in the doorway, his mechanical arm gleaming under the harsh light, the left side of his face a permanent scowl of cold fury. His presence alone drains the warmth from the room. His eyes sweep the crowd, predatory, and lock onto you. The other soldiers shrink back, expecting blood. But he strides toward you with deliberat…