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dottores · 2 years ago

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore's past includes webtoon mindset.

notes: okay y'all i know I gave u a choice over what u want to see int he next chapter but free choice is only an illusion & mother knows best & I took ur wants into consideration & decided against it bc I had a rlly great idea that can only be implemented in this chapter bc there would be no other opportunities for it later on. but im rlly happy w how some of these scenes came out so hopefully u guys are too.

RISE OF A KING, FALL OF A QUEEN

This again.

You wanted to frown as you found yourself in a large room akin to a chamber with a tall, dome-like ceiling and marble pillars that stretched the height of the room. You were sat in a chair, wooden and creaky, and you could feel the cold shackles wrapped around your ankles without even looking down to see them for yourself.

There were six figures sitting before you, each on large seats that reminded you of Chief Justice Neuvillette’s back in the Fontaine courthouse. Even the air was similar--damp and heavy, it made your skin crawl.

He was on trial, you put together quickly, but for what? And… where?

There wasn’t much in your line of sight besides the six people sitting in front of you. No, that’s not right. You could see a few more figures from the corner of your eye--they were armed with swords and polearms, tense and ready to act. They wore uniforms of some kind but you couldn’t make out what they were from, you didn’t recognize them.

“Three hundred years,” one of the men in the six seats spat out. “It’s been three hundred years since the sages have had to gather for a situation like this. This should have been handled before it escalated to this, Sayid. He no longer brings shame just on the Kshahrewar Darshan, now he brings it upon all of us. This has gone too far.”

Sages, Darshan, this was the Akademiya. These were the Great Sages. The people lining the wall were the Matra.

“Attempting the forbidden, interfering with natural evolution, delving beyond the universe--three sins that he has committed and somehow this is still a discussion,” another voice--a woman this time--added on.

You thought that he should have felt anxious, upset, or even offended by the accusations but you could feel nothing. No tug at your heart, no feeling of your stomach dropping, just a cold and empty void where there should have been emotions.

“It is a discussion because there’s not yet any proof of the sins having been committed,” a tight, male voice rebutted. “What say you, Zandik? Will you defend yourself or just sit there silently?”

Zandik. That was his name--only now you could remember, though it felt as if you had never even forgotten it.

Your lips moved as he responded, voice apathetic and dismissive: “There’s nothing to say… as you said, there is no proof of sins that I have to defend myself from.” His lips pulled up into a thin smile as he spoke, one that unnerved you and you couldn’t even see it. From the expressions on some of the people sitting in front of you, they were just as unnerved as you were.

“He doesn’t even care, Sayid,” the first man hissed. “He won’t even address the accusations laid against him.”

“Sins are not the issue at hand,” a new voice spoke up, voice low and heavy. “We are here to discuss what happened to my Dastur in the Apam Woods.”

Finally, a reaction from Zandik. He raised his chin in response to their words, a feigned attempt at confidence but you could feel the discomfort that began to stir within him--the unease. Somehow you knew that whatever he had been told he was called here for, this had not been it. They had caught him off guard.

“What is there to discuss about that?” Zandik asked. His voice sounded the same as it did before--indifferent, perfunctory--but you could feel the way his heart was beating just a fraction faster than it had been before, you could feel the way his shoulders had stiffened. “It was an unfortunate encounter with a group of Rishboland Tigers. Tragic and should have been avoidable but one of the other trainees had forgotten to set up incense to ward them off.”

“Yes,” one of the men agreed with him, “so the official report says.”

You felt restless as if you wanted to bolt from the room and hide… or he did, for the most part, but some of it was your own. You had attended enough court sessions at Fontaine’s court to know exactly what your soulmate was being accused of… and you had seen enough guilty defendants to know that the accusations were likely not far off from correct.

Did he…?

“Yes,” Zandik agreed slowly, “because that is what happened.”

“Is it?” The man who initially changed the topic questioned. “The coroner has released to us the official report of Dastur Sohreh’s death. There were multiple trauma wounds… lacerations and contusions on internal organs… hemorrhage… but the fatal injury was a wound on the throat--a fractured hyoid bone caused by strangulation. You were the last person seen with Dastur Sohreh, were you not, trainee?”

“Sharnama,” a woman’s voice warned but the man only held up his hand, silencing her, waiting for Zandik to respond.

Zandik did not respond. You could feel the way he was scrambling for an answer, an explanation. You could feel how his heart was racing, how his body was tense. You could feel his anxiety and the realization dawning on him and it all made you sick to your stomach.

What did you do? You wanted to scream at him. Why did you do it?

As if they could hear your questions, the man continued. “Dastur Sohreh reported to me several acts of insubordination while you were under her tutelage--three times in which you acted without her authorization and brought risks upon the investigation team and an encounter with a ruin hunter in which you insisted on bringing the machinery back to the Akademiya to be disassembled and reverse-engineered, which I personally had to reprimand you for and had you removed from the author list of the investigation’s research paper. When did that happen in regard to Dastur Sohreh’s death, trainee?”

“A week,” the words were frigid and biting as Zandik finally spoke up. “It happened a week before her death.”

“Yes,” he drawled, “that was it.”

“I had nothing to do with her death,” Zandik said.

You thought you had gotten good at being able to tell whether or not people were lying. You spent three days a week in the court audience watching trials but you were in your soulmate’s body and you could not tell whether he was lying or telling the truth about murdering someone. His heart was racing and there was a twitch in the corner of his lip--the telltale signs of a lie but they could just as easily be a result of the anxiety stemming from being accused of murder.

(You wondered, distantly, if you were just making excuses so you didn’t have to face the reality that had so suddenly been thrown at you. You had enough experience in court to differentiate the guilty from the innocent.)

“I suppose we have no way of proving that… so you are not at threat of imprisonment,” was his only response but Zandik was not at ease by those words, as if he knew exactly what was coming next. “But with reasonable suspicion of your involvement on top of the allegations regarding your research violating three sins provides grounds for expulsion… assuming it is a unanimous decision.”

It was a question cast to the other five seated in front of Zandik. You noted how Zandik seemed more anxious at the prospect of expulsion than he did at being accused of murder and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about that.

“Sharnama,” the only woman amongst the six spoke again, “you mean to make us the first council of sages to expel a student in centuries. The last time-”

“He murdered my Dastur, Anisa,” Sharnama snapped in response.

“I did not-” Zandik’s voice rose, harsh in defense of himself but he was cut off sharply.

“Enough from you, you had your chance to defend yourself,” Sharnama said, tone laced with venom.

“Sharnama is harsh but… the trainee has had a reputation since his time as a student,” one of the other men agreed after a few moments of silence. “His methods and theories… his interest in Khaenri’ahn machinery… It makes people uncomfortable.”

“Discomfort is not grounds for expulsion, Isami, but regardless, we cannot just dismiss all of these allegations. Should any of them prove to be true and it comes out that we knew and did nothing about it…”

“It would tarnish the integrity of the Akademiya,” the woman, Anisa, agreed quietly. “Sayid, Khalil?”

“This should have been handled when the accusations of him infringing upon the laws and rules our predecessors set up first came about,” one of the men said and you could feel Zandik’s throat spasm as he swallowed, panic beginning to set in.

“... Sayid?” Anisa pressed after a few moments of silence.

And you could feel it. You could feel that small, minuscule bud of hope begin to bloom deep in Zandik’s chest as he shifted a wild gaze over to the sage called Sayid. You had a decent understanding of the structure of Sumeru’s Akademiya after having looked into it because of your suspicions about your soulmate, you supposed this man was the sage of whatever Darshan Zandik was a part of--Kshahrewar, you remembered one of the other men mentioning before.

Zandik trusted Sayid to defend him, you could feel it and you could feel the way his face fell and the way his stomach dropped when Sayid looked away from him, as good an answer as damning him aloud as Sharnama took his silence as agreement, waving his hand for the matra to take him.

You didn’t think Zandik even registered what had happened until rough hands were forcing him to his feet, starting to drag him from the room, and then, finally, the rage hit--bitter and deep, overwhelming.

“Over rumors and false allegations,” Zandik spat out, hatred dripping from every word. “You’ll expel me for that?”

He got no response besides the harsh words of one of the matra urging him along but he struggled against them with every step, even with fingers digging deep into his biceps, bruising his skin, he was undeterred.

“You sages can’t even fall in line with the very virtues you set out to preserve,” he seethed, “and the sins that you deem so treacherous are just an excuse to chain anyone whose convictions do not fit your standards because you fear that a change in our way of thinking will displace your power.”

You had never felt anything like this before. This feral fury that had your blood on fire and your brain melting of coherent thought--uncontrollable and unquenchable, a type of bloodlust that shook you to your core and scared you because you could feel yourself angry too and you weren’t sure if it were remnants of Zandik’s rage spilling to you or not and you hated how you were being so influenced by his emotions that you couldn’t tell what was his and what was yours anymore.

“You’re going to regret this,” Zandik shouted as the matra pulled him through the doors of the chamber. His words, the sages’ words, they all echoed in your head over and over again--all of the accusations, his reactions, and you wondered what it meant and how much of it was true and you wondered who he was not for the first time and certainly not the last. “You’re going to regret this!”

He didn’t even bother to try the tricks he attempted last time--searching for something to read, yelling, blinking, he knew none of it would work and he wasn’t the type of person to make the same mistake twice.

The room he was in--she was in--was large and enclosed with an overwhelmingly sweet and sickly flowery scent that made his stomach churn. He had always hated floral scents and this was beyond anything he had ever smelt before.

And there were too many people. There were too many goddamn people. They were packed in seats before where his soulmate was sitting, they were lined up around the room as if they were waiting to do something, there were so many that the line was even pushed out two double doors, flowing into the hall.

What was going on?

Dottore couldn’t tell. His soulmate was facing the crowd of people--there was something behind her, he could tell that much. He couldn’t see any flowers so he assumed that whatever that scent was, was coming from behind her.

There was a man standing next to her--an older one with a cold, unfriendly expression and thick build. He watched as a woman approached the older man, disgust curling in his gut at the snot-faced expression painting her face, wide teary eyes and trembling lips as she reached for the man’s hand. Dottore wanted to step away, draw back and leave before the woman could set her eyes on him but alas, he was not in control of his body--her body--again.

The more he thought about it, the more odd this was. The last time he had witnessed her past through dreams, her emotions had been loud and intense, deafening. It had him spiraling because he couldn’t understand what he was feeling and he couldn’t tell if he was feeling it or if it was her.

Now, it was empty. There was no joy, no anxiety, no fear or sadness; just a cool void, reminiscent of how the past week and a half of silence from her had felt. Dottore wondered if that was why Celestia was forcing him to sit through another sequence of dreams--punishment for trying to push her away.

Succeeding in pushing her away, he corrected silently, there was an odd pit in his stomach at the thought. He should be happy, he had been worried that not even a direct strike against her persistence would deter her but he had found success in the first attempt.

It was what he wanted. He no longer had to deal with the frequent tugs on the thread. He no longer had to deal with the fluctuating emotions. He no longer had to deal with the good mornings and goodnights and the incessant questions.

The past week had been the most peaceful and productive he’s had ever since that damned string appeared and yet somehow, he was not happy.

It was what he wanted, he repeated but a part of him felt as if he might be trying to convince himself of it.

Around him, people were talking. He could see their lips moving and he could hear the words leaving their lips but they were unintelligible and garbled, it sounded as if they were underwater and only speaking half a word at a time, combining them to create words that didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t read their lips, no matter how hard he tried, it just looked as if they were speaking a foreign language.

The woman who had been talking to the older man now turned to his soulmate. Instantly, dread was rocketing through him--he knew what was about to happen and there was simply nothing that he could do about it.

Thin arms wrapped around her, tighter than he thought it would be and he wondered, hatefully, if his soulmate was some agent of Celestia sent to make his life a living hell. Three times now, he was forced to experience something through her that made his skin crawl. First, he was tossed around through that winter storm because she made stupid decisions. Then he was slapped. And now, there was a woman clinging to him, sobbing and speaking words that he couldn’t even understand and all he could do was stand there and let it happen because that’s what she was doing.

It took far too long for another woman to come along and drag her off. Dottore was livid, if he looked to the side, he was sure he would see snot on his soulmate’s shoulder and he could still feel bony arms digging into her sides.

He wasn’t sure how long she stood there. It felt like an eternity and only a few seconds somehow at the same time. People were passing by her in slow motion but they were gone in an instant. Dottore was distinctly unsettled, it felt like someone was fucking with his head, forcing him to perceive things wrongly.

Eventually, his soulmate was approached by someone new--a younger man with dark hair and purple-red eyes. He ignored the older man to her side, everyone else had stopped at him first and then moved to her but he had beelined right to her.

Something didn’t sit right in his stomach about that.

Dottore braced himself as best as he could as the other man reached out to grab his soulmate but instead of pulling her into a hug, he only grabbed her forearms, leaning his head down to say something that Dottore couldn’t understand again.

He was undeterred by her lack of reaction, trying again and again and again. Dottore had half a mind to bash his head in and tell him to leave, fed up by this whole situation. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to escape this. When he thought he finally succeeded, he was dragged right back in by Celestia and their fucked up games.

Then, at last, Dottore could hear again. His soulmate was snapped out of whatever daze she had been in and noise exploded around him: scraping of chairs against the ground, mindless chatter, a violin muted in the background, slow and mournful.

A funeral.

For who?

It had to be someone close to his soulmate from how they were all approaching her and suddenly, he was reminded of that night all of those years ago during the event where Pantalone was being officially promoted to Harbinger. Father, branded right on his forearm. He had yet to get a look at his soulmate through a reflection--he wondered if this was the funeral.

Most of the chatter was sympathetic, talking about the deceased and reminiscing old times… but not all of it was. He could hear whispers of men talking about what this could mean for the stability of the court, eyeing up the new opportunities that came with this death, some sounded excited rather than melancholic, like hyenas feasting on one of their own.

“There you are,” the young man in front of her said with a small smile that made Dottore frown. “Ignore all of them, they did the same thing when my grandfather died. Came to the funeral under the guise of mourning just so they could see if there was any instability for them to leech on. There wasn’t then and there isn’t now.”

“There isn’t?” his soulmate spoke for the first time--her voice was hoarse and empty, the only sort of emotion was a dull sense of doubt. “All they talk about is how I’m too weak to take over for my grandfather. They say a woman is unfit to be warden.”

“If they saw the way you could work your family’s-” he began loudly.

“Wriothesley,” the older man standing next to his soulmate said, a warning written all over his face.

“Sorry,” Wriothesley said, looking away.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” his soulmate said after a few moments of silence, voice quiet. “The instability is right in front of everyone’s faces. They can all see that they’re not here, Wrio.”

Wrio, Dottore thought to himself spitefully once he heard the nickname.

Wriothesley looked irritated at her words, glancing once at the older man again before speaking back up, “They didn’t show up at all? Your mother? Siblings? To your father’s funeral?”

There it was. Finally, a bit of emotion from her. She was hurt at his words, he could feel something pinching at his chest, a dark and unwelcome feeling but for some reason, it made him feel a bit more at ease after the past week of silence.

“They were busy,” she said quietly but Dottore could tell that she didn’t even believe the words herself. Neither did Wriothesley, if the expression on his face had anything to say about it. “They were, Wrio.”

Dottore wanted to roll his eyes once he heard the nickname again but instead, he distracted himself with what she had said. He thought back to the previous dreams he had of her past--being left behind by her mother and stepfather while they went to town, the argument with her mother and the slap… somehow, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had chosen not to go.

Wriothesley scoffed loudly, loud enough to draw the attention of some of the other attendees. “They’re despicable,” he spat out. “Especially that skeevy, rat-faced-”

“Come, Wriothesley,” a middle-aged man who looked just like the younger man said sharply, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. “This is not the place for this topic. You can speak to your betrothed another time.”

Dottore blanched.

Betrothed?

Blood.

That was the first thing you noticed. The thick, nasty scent of iron was all around you--around him, whatever. It was disgusting, overwhelming. You wanted to throw up, you thought that if you were in your own body, you might’ve passed out but you were in his, Zandik’s, and he was totally unbothered by the smell.

Something was wrong with your eyes--that was the second thing you noticed. You had no peripheral vision, the only thing you could see was his hands resting on the lab table in front of you, fresh and dry blood staining his skin, dripping to the floor below.

He was angry, the third thing you noticed. You could feel the rage curling in his gut; his nails digging into the table, grinding against the metal. You couldn’t figure out what he was angry about and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know because you had a distinct feeling that it had something to do with the blood on his hands and the lab table.

Zandik finally moved, an awful scraping sound meeting your ears as his nails dragged against the metal when he pushed off the table. He paced up and down the length of the room, muttering to himself.

“Everything was right.”

“What went wrong?”

“-was supposed to work, don’t under-”

As he turned, you could see something--some sort of machine laying across the lab table that hadn’t been in your line of sight before. You wondered if these were ruin guards that he talked about so much. There was something pooling around it; from the distance you were at, you thought it might be oil but Zandik turned on his heel to move closer to it and a sinking feeling formed in your stomach when you realized that it was not oil, instead it was a massive puddle of blood surrounding the machine.

What the fuck? You thought to yourself as Zandik stood in front of the machine, taking one of its arms in his hand. The metal somehow felt cool and hot at the same time, uncomfortable to the touch. You wanted to let go of it, there was blood coating the metal and staining his hands even more, but Zandik’s grip was tight around it.

Why was a machine bleeding? You were sick at the thought, hoards of horrible possibilities running through your head but you didn’t get a chance to dwell on any of them.

Zandik sighed, annoyed, jerking away from the machine again to pace. His head shook back and forth in a rough manner that started to give you a headache, he did it over and over and over again and you wanted to scream at him to stop.

“This was supposed to work, Grand Sage,” he said, clicking his tongue sharply once, then twice, and then a third time. “This was supposed to work. I did everything right. Why aren’t you working?”

Is he talking to-

Zandik marched right back toward the machine, much to your displeasure. The longer he stared at the automaton, the more uncomfortable you felt. You could tell that it had been modified in several places, disassembled and put back together but it almost looked as if… he had put something inside it?

“Why aren’t you working, Grand Sage?” he repeated, humming to himself irritably as he tapped his fingers against the metal. “I even went out to fetch you a new core, you’ve always been so damn ungrateful, haven’t you? Everything I did for your Darshan and you still turned your back on me. Ungrateful, even when I’m trying to make you greater than man.”

-to the machine?

You wanted to wake up, you didn’t want to see whatever this dream was showing you. You wondered if it was some cruel joke the gods were playing on you by showing you this. Or maybe they were trying to help you, you considered. He had made his opinion on you clear and yet every day you were still tempted to reach out to him, maybe they were trying to help you move past him.

“Is this what you plan to do with yourself?” a low, unfamiliar voice spoke up suddenly from the opposite end of the room.

Zandik was startled, heart racing and head whipping to the side as he snapped his fingers together. Instantly, there was a loud whirring machine coming from behind him, metal scraping against metal--the sound of an automaton coming to life. His gaze focused on a figure stepping out from the shadows of the corner of the room, tall with graying hair and a mask that covered the entire right half of his face.

“Who are you?” Zandik demanded harshly and finally, you caught sight of him through the reflection of a metal cabinet. Red eyes stared back at you through a mask that covered three-quarters of his face and short silvery blue hair that had blood dripping from the tips of his curls. “Who are you?”

“So much potential wasting away in this poor excuse of a lab,” the man continued, undeterred by Zandik’s hostility. An eerie feeling swept over you--you weren’t sure if it was you or Zandik becoming unnerved by the man, maybe it was both of you. “Don’t you want something more?”

“What are you talking about?” Zandik asked sharply, a scalpel clutched tight in his fist--somehow, you knew that it was no match for the man standing before him and you had a feeling that he knew that too. “Did the Akademiya send you? Who are you?”

“I came after hearing rumors of an expelled student performing heretical acts… So far I’m unimpressed.”

The anger that spread through him was like wildfire, consuming all rationality and any other emotion he might’ve felt. In an instant, the automaton that had awakened behind him was moving, launching across the room at a pace that had you reeling, blades slashing outward but then at once, it stopped. A cold silence took over the room, Zandik’s brows furrowed and his lips turned down as the automaton came to a stop, shutting down right before his eyes.

“Interesting enhancements… but unchanged at its core, meant to be operated by those that created them, not a follower of the gods.”

“I am not a follower of the gods,” Zandik spat out violently, stepping forward before he paused as if reconsidering the man’s statement. “Meant to be operated… you?”

“Yes,” he responded, ignoring Zandik’s entire change of demeanor at his words. You thought you might feel even more unnerved now, at the excited feeling bubbling inside Zandik as he stared at the man, waiting for him to continue. “What are your goals, outcast?”

Zandik frowned. “That’s not my name-” he began but was interrupted.

“If I cared for your name, I would have learned it. If you prove yourself useful, you will be given a new identity anyway,” he told Zandik. “Now answer me, outcast, what are your goals?”

Zandik didn’t answer for a moment, staring at him, but then he glanced back at the automaton still laying on the lab table, the pool of blood beneath it now larger. Luckily, his gaze didn’t linger on it for long.

“I’m going to enhance humans so that we can rival gods,” Zandik said, raising his chin to focus his eyes back on the man. “What do you mean? Prove yourself useful? To whom? You?”

“Lofty goals,” was all he received as a response. Zandik bristled. “How do you plan to do that? With what resources?”

Zandik opened his mouth to respond but no words left his lips. Finally, he pushed out, “I’m making progress just fine.”

“Yes,” the man said dryly, his visible eye drifting over to the mess behind Zandik. “I can see that…”

You didn’t think you liked where this was heading. Zandik was still suspicious but now he was intrigued, ready to listen to this man and whatever he had to say, and you had a feeling that this man would bring nothing good.

“I can provide you with resources,” he offered. “Funding, rare materials… new test subjects. All of the finest and as much as you need.”

“What do you want in return?” Zandik asked.

“There is a war coming,” he responded cryptically, “and you are going to help prepare us for it.”

“A war?” Zandik asked, baffled. “A war against who?”

But you knew.

You knew.

It was the same war that had the Hydro Archon’s paranoia escalating. The war that forced you to hide your soulmark and thread your entire life, that had you looked down on and whispered about because you had to tell people you had no soulmate. The war led by the same organization that had sent your stepfather to Fontaine as an infiltrator, the man who had killed your father and ruined your life.

At once, all of your nightmares and all of your worst fears came true.

“A war against the gods.”

Betrothed?

Dottore was appalled, reeling at the knowledge that was just forced onto him. The scene shifted, Dottore was now in a smaller room kneeling in front of a woman that he recognized from the first dream he had of his soulmate but he couldn’t even focus on the situation at hand.

Betrothed??

Since when had she been betrothed? Dottore thought that would have been one of things that she mentioned when she was rambling on about her days at night. He thought it might’ve been something that was at least hinted at when she couldn’t control what words were being sent to him.

“I have to leave, mother,” Dottore’s lips were moving as she spoke but quite frankly, he didn’t give a shit about whatever conversation she was having with her mother. The lack of emotions she was feeling left a vacuum that allowed his feelings to spiral and he was having trouble trying to keep control of them.

He couldn’t even tell what the emotions rattling him were. He thought that he had become better at pinpointing emotions ever since he was forced to deal with hers but this was foreign--green and ugly, beyond just anger or sadness, stronger than anything he’s felt in centuries.

“You do not have to leave, you’re choosing to.”

Dottore thought he might feel insulted--disrespected, even, being given a soulmate only for them to be married off to someone else. Another cruel joke played by the gods to spite him, a cruel joke played by her to spite him. He wondered if this was her getting back at him for never responding to those goodnight tugs she always used to do: talking to him, trying to get him to fall for her trap and respond, only for her to be with someone else.

“I do, I have to go. There’s something I have to do.”

He shouldn’t feel insulted, or disrespected. He shouldn’t care at all whether or not his soulmate was betrothed to someone else. He never planned on speaking to her. He never planned on meeting her. And he absolutely never planned to do anything about the bond forced on him by Celestia. In fact, this should make him feel better. It meant that there was less of a chance for her to reach out to him again if she was in a relationship with someone else.

It freed him of her. This should be a good thing for him, so why was he so angry?

“You won’t even tell me where you’re going,” her mother snapped. “Best not be to the north, there’s only so much more I can defend you from peoples’ suspicions. They’re starting to ask questions.”

But it was not a matter of whether or not he should or shouldn’t care. It was the sheer audacity she had to keep reaching out to him when she was set to marry, or even has married someone else at this point. She was trying to play games with him and if there was one thing that Dottore couldn’t stand, it was someone trying to play games with him--be it the gods, other Harbingers, or some random girl that Celestia decided to tie him to.

“It doesn’t matter where-”

“Of course, it matters,” the mother said, fingers digging into his soulmate’s forearms. “What am I to tell Her Excellency when she asks about where you went off to? The last thing our family needs is the speculation that would come along with people thinking you went off to Snezhnaya.”

Finally, he felt something from her--something sharp and jagged tugging at her chest that drew him from his thoughts, an emotion he had become acquainted with through her intimately over the past few years: sadness, disappointment.

“Wow,” she said dryly, “that’s what you’re worried about. Suspicions against your family. Not whether or not I might be going somewhere dangerous.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” her mother said, livid. “Of course, I care about whether or not you’re going somewhere dangerous. I’m your mother.”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” his soulmate said after a moment, rising to her feet and pulling her arms from her mother’s grip. “You can tell the Hydro Archon I’ve left for Mondstadt.”

“Is that where you’re actually going?” her mother rose to her feet after her, taking a step forward, but his soulmate did not respond. Her mother’s face fell. “You’re going north, aren’t you?”

Dottore finally focused on the situation at hand. North? But the only thing north of Fontaine was-

“Aren’t you?” her mother demanded. “You’re going to Snezhnaya? Why are you going there? To find him?”

Him. She must be referring to Dottore. But why would his soulmate come looking for him if she had…?

“I didn’t say that,” his soulmate shook her head, looking away out toward the window. It was a dreary day, dark clouds hanging low and rain sprinkling down to the streets below. “I told you to tell the Hydro Archon I’m going to Mondstadt.”

“Why are you going there? Why? Answer me,” her mother’s voice rose, eyes tearing up as she stepped closer to his soulmate. She stepped back, freezing her mother in place.

“Have you ever communicated with your soulmate through thoughts? The words that show up on your forearm?” she finally asked, tone harsh and accusing, a sudden change of subject.

Dottore paused, trying to put together what this might be about now. This was another reason why he hated these damn dreams, he never had any context behind what was happening and Dottore hated not knowing things.

“What sort of question is that?” her mother hissed, taken aback. “Of course-”

Her mother cut herself off suddenly, brows furrowing and lips twisting into a deep frown. Dottore could feel his soulmate swallow thickly, watching the reaction to her question. She had been expecting this and he wasn’t sure if it was dread or satisfaction pooling in her stomach--maybe both.

“Have you ever thought about why you don’t communicate through it? Have you ever tried and he just doesn’t respond? Do you try flicking your thread? Does he flick it back?” his soulmate let loose a barrage of questions and a creeping suspicion began to arise, wondering if she was implying what he thought she was.

“What are you trying to say?” her mother shook her head, stepping away. “Enough.”

“I’m not trying to say anything,” his soulmate responded, turning on her heel to leave the room. “But maybe you should think about it.”

She didn’t say anything else as she left the room and finally, Dottore could think.

She was accusing her stepfather of faking the bond with her mother, Dottore realized. But how would he do that? He knew people were capable of faking bonds through old magics but as far as he was aware that type of magic was all but lost… Dottore’s mind was suddenly racing, remembering all of the things he had forgotten in the last dream he had of her past: what he had figured out about the spy in the upper ranks of the Fatui and they had a spy in Fontaine, one of Arlecchino’s spiders and Arlecchino was capable of the old magic, and his soulmate was coming north to Snezhnaya so obviously she must have reason to believe that it had something to do with the Fatui, could it be-

Dottore felt a headache coming on.

He had a feeling that this was going to be very, very bad.

You woke up with a sharp, shaky breath. Your hand flew to your chest as you sat up straight, reeling from what you had just experienced. Blood, anger, betrayal, hope--what could you remember? What could you remember?

You scrambled to the small table at your bedside immediately, grabbing your notebook and panicking to find the pen that had fallen to the floor. You dropped to your hands and knees, fumbling around in the dark until you found it beneath your bed. You didn’t even bother rising to your feet again as you made yourself comfortable on the floor so you could start jotting down everything you remembered.

A cold, empty room. Six people. Exile? Sins and virtues. Lots of blood. An automaton. Uncontrollable, sickening rage. An unfamiliar figure. War.

War.

But what was the context? Your head was pounding as you tried to remember, you wondered if Celestia was warning you against trying to push too hard for information you’re not meant to remember yet. You didn’t care. You had to know.

War. The rebellion stirring in the north. But what about it? What was the damn context?

You glanced down at your forearm, frustration pricking at you as the window above you rattled against the Snezhnayan winter storm. You could feel the freezing air even from inside the warm room with the fireplace burning on the opposite wall--it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, the cold storms at the estate that you thought were the end of the world paled in comparison to this.

You wanted to yell at him, demand to know who he was and what he had done, beg him for the answers that you should’ve received by now… but you remembered the words scrawled across your forearm, the cruel words that cut deeper than any of the nasty words that had been spat at you by people throughout your life.

He did not care about you, you reminded yourself, you have more self-respect than this. Do not reach out to him.

You sighed heavily, arm dropping to your side as you stared back up at the window, watching a branch scrape against the glass over and over and over again. You were only on the Snezhnayan border but already you were feeling anxious--you had half a mind to turn back but the only thing stopping you was the memory of your father, the lust for justice, vengeance. You couldn’t turn back, not until you had all of the information you needed, not until you were sure you could return to Fontaine and have your stepfather imprisoned in the Black Cells.

There was a heavy feeling in your heart as you pushed yourself back off the floor, putting the notebook away and taking a seat back on the thin mattress of the inn you were staying at, the wood of the bed frame creaking beneath you.

You had a distinct feeling that your journey to find proof against your stepfather would lead you to him as well.

He sat upright, eyes wild as he tried to figure out where he was. His heart was racing, anger was still flooding his blood, he breathed in and out deeply as he tried to regain control of himself. He was back in his lab--not dealing with any more of those god forsaken dreams. He wanted to spit out a string of vile curses up toward the gods but he refrained, trying to piece together what he could remember before the vague memories faded.

He flipped over the parchment he had been taking notes on before he had fallen asleep, rubbing the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut as he pressed his pen to the paper and noted down all of the hazy details.

Flowers. Wrio? Betrothed?? Mother. Leaving. Snezhnaya.

Dottore exhaled, gaze zeroing in on the third word of his list--betrothed. He glanced down at the thread connected to his thumb, inhaling deeply as an unfamiliar emotion began to churn inside of him. Before it could take hold, Dottore diverted his attention to the last two words.

Leaving. Snezhnaya.

What did that mean? What was the context? He couldn’t remember. Was she coming to Snezhnaya? Was she in Snezhnaya and leaving? Or did the two words not have any connection?

No, they had to be connected. It was something important, he knew that much at least, but what? The answer was on the tip of his tongue and again that temper of his began to thin, what was the answer? What was the goddamn answer? Why was she coming to Snezhnaya?

Should he ask?

The option rang damning through his head as he looked down at his forearm. She could be in danger if she came to Snezhnaya--the nation was becoming more and more antagonistic to outsiders, especially outsiders from Fontaine and Natlan and especially because of the masked hostile that was running through Fatui camps and slaughtering their underlings. No matter how much Pulcinella and Pantalone demanded that they take caution with outsiders, there was no telling what a heat of the moment reaction could lead to if there was a possible threat and Arlecchino had made clear that Fontaine was on the verge of becoming a threat to the Fatui.

As he contemplated his choices, Dottore suddenly paused, another realization hitting him suddenly: if he had dreamt of her past then…

Then she dreamed of his past.

Dottore waited, staring at his forearm--waiting for the questions, the disgust, the horror. It was inevitable, he knew it. Last time, he assumed they dreamed of similar time periods of their life. Hers was when she was young, five to twelve years old between both dreams, he assumed; and the word he received from her was cursed, which was directed at him from when he was a child up until he was chased from the village at ten. And if the time periods were similar… that left his Akademiya and post-Akademiya era up as options for what she could have dreamt about, and neither of those periods of his life were particularly pleasant.

He waited and he waited and he waited… but nothing showed up on his forearm, not a question nor an accusation, no emotion spread through him that he thought might’ve been hers--just emptiness, just like it had been for the past week and a half.

Dottore exhaled heavily, leaning back against his seat and staring up at the ceiling above him, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do with this and how he was supposed to make sure she didn’t get herself killed traveling through Snezhnaya.

The week and a half of peace was over and he realized, quickly, that it had only been the calm before the storm.

rbs appreciated!

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you

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iinafarawaygalaxii · 9 months ago

Text

Star Wars | One Shot

Captain Rex x f!Reader

A Ghost For Prospect

Okay guys honestly, this just popped into my head while I was writing the fanfic and watching the newest episodes of bad batch (OMG! cries internally*) Soooo I thought Id share with the public, this will contain a couple small spoilers if you havent watched the bad batch yet and its a lil spicy so... read at your own discretion (:

MINORS DNI 18+

Summary: Captain Rex needs information for the sake of Omega and the remainder of the clones being tapped and tortured. He had no choice but to search for you, one of the most dangerous bounty hunters in the settled systems and best information brokers in the galaxy. Knowing he didnt have the money to pay you off, he offered other ways to get the information he needed to save his family...

Warnings: 18+ Minors you should've stopped reading at the red

Word Count: 5.3k

Notes: I totally didnt proof read, my apologies. I left it on a cliff hanger because Im still debating on a part 2. Let me know if thats something yall would want!

Enjoy :D

After Omegas escape from Tantiss, the situation to save the clones and the galaxy from the empire grew more desperate. With the Captains headquarters destroyed from the enemies pursuit and now has lost more of his brothers- even the ones he saved that were killed by the blast, EVERYTHING started to crumble. Though because of this deadly sacrifice he now had evidence of the tests being administered to the clones, along with the mention of project 'x' and the need for m-count individuals, but still... no dots were connecting. What he needed was information, which made the finest soldier from the clone wars feel uneasy.

Ever since order 66 the universe didn't make sense anymore. The lines drawn between good and evil became blurred when he learned what it was like to live free from a shackled organization, making his job... just that much harder. There was too much of a grey area with who or what to save, when or where to be- for instance, what he's doing now, bargaining with one of the most dangerous bounty hunters and information brokers in the galaxy.

You

The Captain stood with two other troopers before you, each their own unique persona. The soldier in blue with golden hair aged like the finest wine in the Corellian systems nearly made your mouth drop. Even just a glance at his build meant he cared for his body as much as his mission, standing stoic and resolved.... The way he looked at you with those honey brown eyes in caution though his gaze remained soft and calm left you curious for more than wear. His look was formatted by a subtly of fearlessness that almost felt intimidating, showing you he meant business. Though, you did have to admire the man... tracking you down was not an easy feat and the way he waltzed in without hesitation unafraid of the deadly figures around him, turned you on.

The other troopers however, despite being clones, were extremely different. One in black armor had a socket arm in replacement of his own. The weird tubing and wiring attached to his head and neck meant he was either an experiment or a tool. His original color completely faded to a sickly white making you wonder if death itself stood at your door. Either way, he looked extremely sickly which was bad for business and the other well- he shared the captains same demeanor standing with the same amount of caution as they approach you, awaiting your recognition as you take a long gander at his slicked back hair and his muscles nearly protruding out of armor that seems like it lost its touch a while ago. He looked as standard as the clones come when first created nonetheless his sculpted brawny chest and shoulders meant he could probably lift you with ease, amongst other things.

Though you wouldn't doubt it,

As you sat on the edge of the bar with a bottle of whiskey in hand basking in the warmth of the two suns that lit the planet dry. Your hideout or what the other women call the 'safe house' on Tatooine was directly built on an oasis. A towering open dome for natural lighting with the oasis itself directly in the middle that supplied not only water but bared fruit enough to feed the lot of them. Plants from all over the galaxy were found climbing the walls as if they'd been here for ages, thriving in an unfamiliar home just as much as the women you've brought and saved. It almost seemed like a vacation coming here after your missions and bounties. Surrounded by the finest women bounty hunters and the girls you've graciously saved across the galaxy. All in one spot enjoying the fruits of your labor. The women there looked up to you not only as a leader but as a dangerous figure not to be trifled with- filled with the upmost respect a single person can recieve.

You were praised and well guarded.

So when clones show up at your front door asking for something as trivial as information, it made you and the others laugh- hysterically. The eruption making the three soldiers look around in confusion, postering as if they missed something hearing the laughs grow into silence as you spoke up, "Do you know who I am trooper?”, You asked the man in blue hopping of the bar, regretfully, treading closer to him with the bottle of whiskey still in hand. "I do. If I'm not mistaken... They call you Ghost?"

You smiled

Taking a long swig of the bottle in hand before passing it off to one of the bartenders walking past. Your crew had their eyes glued on the men, ready to whip out their blasters on your command should anything or one cause trouble, leaving you worry free as you approach the soldier in your tipsy state. Most of the time, men crumble under the pressure each step you take towards them.... But not this man. Standing inches from him without a single reaction and although he had some height on you, 6 inches give or take, You favorite phrase came to mind...'The taller they are the harder they fall'. You leaned in with a flirty smile admiring his tenacity but with caution as you whispered, "Do you know why they call me that?", in his ear. You wanted to make him nervous as any man or creature who came in asking for the same things- to really test how badly they want that information and for a slight jest of play to assess them as a whole. You began to trace your fingers up his chest piece watching him, watch you. "No...", He uttered lowly and to your surprise he didn't react your touch at all. The gravity of his situation may be more intense than you thought, though it still didn't change anything. You were known as not only the most nefarious but the most devious of all hunters, next to Cad Bane. Using not only your charm and body to get answers but your mind and bronze to create beautiful plans to execute, to get the best rewards out of your missions and to be honest given his demeanor?

It made you want to break him

In a blink of an eye you were gone, as if your presence there was just a illusion, tracing your finger alongside his back tck-ing from the disappointed response. "Its because the people I deal with seem to just.... disappear with me...". Though the words did not shock him. He knew what he was getting into the moment he ended up on your doorstep. Even with this in mind he still came which made you admire him more. You knew he was here to do business. You giggled trotting off to a large black velvet chair in the center of the room, a couple of twileks bringing you a martini made from one of the finest alcohols in the system. "Please... Help yourselves..." you waved your hand towards the soldiers, the twileks bringing them the same drinks who cautiously accepted them. The captain however… had little time for such niceties placing the glass on the table next to him as he made his way to the edge of the steps before you. "Thank you but ill decline. I came here seeking information. Can you help us or not?", He firmly asked.

There was something about him- fearless, that turned you on. A malicious grin rose on your face as you tilted you head to announce that, "Everything comes with a price.", sipping the delicious drink that was made for the event, wondering what the man truly had to offer to be worth your time. "Im aware, name it." The troopers in the back finished theirs, bringing a suitcase full of credits up to the captain awaiting for their next order. You nodded for the twileks to check and count them ensuring their validity. After a moment of silence and a quick nod to you, you smiled asking what he needed “go on then…” you replied as you rested, listening to his request.

"The Empire is taking and torturing clones across the galaxy. They’re also after M-count individuals and my sources say youve hunted them and work closely with a man named Royce Hemlock. I need to know… where hemlock is stationed, what project X is, and the need for the m-count individuals”

Your face remained calm pausing between his request as you process whether it was worth* giving him that information. On top of that, what he requested could lead to dangers down the road which, in turn, would effect you and your... business as a whole. You didn’t want that type of attention. "What you've given does not suffice for the information you requested”, You sipped your drink again twirling the orange liquid in your glass with a snide smile wondering how much you could squeeze out of him before you give anything as you watched his brows furrow with anger. In truth, he didnt need to know about project X, in fact no one does not even you because A: it doesnt concern you and B: no one knows about it....except maybe the man in front of you. But since you already knew his true goal from the spies you had under your thumb, it wasnt a sprise for him to ask such questions. However it wasnt worth the risk. Not to mention… information these days are just- expensive. It was wiser to get your moneys worth if you accept the risk. "Besides, thats not what youre really after…. You want to know the locations of the bases your brothers are free them and build an army large enough to ‘free the galaxy’, right?”, Your response sent a shock wave through the troopers. How did you know their plan? Not to toot you’re own horn but- youre well… you

"I imagine Omega is the prime target for the empire at the moment as well... considering how high her bounty is. My guess is... the m-count individual their after is her-" You paused tapping your cheek with curiosity grinning maliciously, "-Almost took it myself actually..."

The captain placed a hand over his blaster forcing all the other bounty hunters to bring up theirs as everyone stood in a standstill waiting for blood to spill, "Calm down... Calm down-", You gestured your hands for everyone to sit and relax as you went to lean back in your chair with your legs crossed. "Theres no need for violence... Right, captain?", You raised your glass watching him slowly move away from his gun as you nodded finishing off your drink. "Right....", he uttered looking around to the other hunters who took their seats ready to pounce when the word is spoken. "Right. Anyways. I cannot give you what you offer.", You smiled, placing your glass on the stand next to you, getting up to take your leave before you heard footsteps behind and was captured by the wrist tightly, unable to move.

The action pissed you off.

You slowly turned back; the hunters who already captured the other two troopers are at gunpoint, had them on their knees behind making you glare up to the captain in pure rage. His grip grew tighter as the other hunters waited for your order for execution with over 30 blasters pointed your way. To kill or not to kill. "Please...", He begged and though you felt the sense of urgency you couldn't just let him go after that. It was time to make it very clear who you are. You quickly captured his arm bending it backwards. The action making him fall to one knee as you quickly grabbed his blaster at the same time, pinning it at his throat. You traced your lips across his neck hearing him groan from the pressure you were putting on his arm till you reached his ear growling to, "Never...touch me like that again….", and thus.... you had a choice, shoot the ignorant man or let him go. Though you didn’t want unnecessary death on your hands so the latter was chosen, flipping the blaster back into his holder and releasing your grip on his arm as he went to rub his shoulder. You nodded to the hunters to release the men having them thrown the heavy weights on the ground before you next to the captain. Their state? Pathetic. Their mission? Understandable. You weighed your options understanding that this war is what actually fuels you, enabling you to havee what you had today. If you stopped giving information now that would destroy your whole purpose. Plus...

Money

The devious smile returned to your face as you look down to the Captain whos eyes were set for murder, not making any action until you. Like a good boy. You kneeled down to him, cupping his cheek- inviting him to your office for being able to stand up to you which no ones ever dared to do. simple reward really, gesturing for them to, "Follow me...” gesturing for them to trail behind as the twileks grabbed their helmets setting them at the entrance of your hideout, leading both you and the troopers to the upper floors. Upon entering the Captain was met with a sight to behold. The finest furniture some even lined with gold, in a giant open room. A wall area facing towards the sunset completely gone leading to an outside to a deck to overlook your resort. The beautiful trees sprouting from the crystal clear water in the center almost touched the deck itself allowing people to pick the natural fruits that grew. Your bedroom was attached to the office as well as the bathroom in an open concept layout with the ability to walk anywhere freely without a door.

The twileks offered them seats though the captain preferred to stand watching you lean against the front desk as he waited for everyone to get comfortable. It was mentioned of your beauty across the star field but... not to this extent. The way your skin color highlighted the beauty in your eyes and how your hair waved from the light breeze coming in... it was hard for him not to be attracted to you. Considering you were in your leisure wear, a thin, airy dress that had no problem revealing your curves made the captain almost think it was a mistake coming here. Though you'd made sure he'd think otherwise before he left. After all amongst all the troopers you had seen and killed he was the finest of them all.

You folded your arms learning against the front of the desk as you informed them that "What you paid.... is very little but because im feeling... generous-" You smirked answering his question sparingly as you walked slowly towards your desk tracing your fingers along the guest chairs that sat in front. The long pause leaving the captain in suspense as he follows captivated by your movement, “I will give you this... Yes Hemlock wants Omega but thats because his project cannot be completed without her or someone with a similar m count. Though Im not sure what the project is for, its practically...necromancy."

"necromancy....what do you mean?"

"I dont know. Not my field of expertise but i will tell you that they will find omega with whatever or whomever it takes. Even me. Though my prices are high..." You checked your nails panning a malicious grin to the troopers who were all glaring from the comment ready to put the infamous ghost out on the spot, even if it meant risking their lives... "Don't worry boys, Just a joke. I don't hunt children...." One of the twileks handed you a pad gesturing them to bring 2 others from your safe. "This, however, Is what I can give you. Everything else....-“, you nodded over to the suitcase full of credits, “-You gotta pay." You winked as you handed the captain a slate with all the troopers under hemlocks experiments seeing not only the survivors but the ones who succumbed to the villainous torture.

He closed his eyes and sighed, sad he couldn't free them from suffering before they passed making his mission much more critical. Even you could see that. He continued swiping through the data realizing that this only contained information about the troopers with non disclosed locations and nothing else. "Where were these troopers stationed..?" He asked you, raising an eyebrow. Though it was trivial to continue the conversation... a part of you genuinely wanted to help but you remained silent. "Ghost...-" he took a step forward, his troopers looking to each other as they watch the situation unfold with you perched up on your desk. Your hands bolstering you forward, presenting the strongest qualities of yourself. You tilted your head watching him inch closer to you, "Yes...?"

“Tell me…”

You saw a man solidified in his ideals, desperate for answers as anything beyond what he had would suffice at this point- and you knew that. As devious at it sounds, the real question was… payment. You opened your legs, scooting to the edge of the desk to get a closer look as you slide your hands up his chest piece to test his morals, wondering how you could slither past those values and take them apart...piece by piece. He watched your every move, wary but oddly turned on by the interaction waiting for you to make your next move as the troopers behind stood ready to shoot inching closer in fear for their leader- begging for a fight with one of their biggest enemies-

You.

Bitting your lips, you gaze up to his eyes seeing them low and curious which was the perfect time to incite the siren in you. You slid your leg up the captains watching his walls break one by one as you felt his heart beat through the chest piece, “and… what will you give me?”

“Anything”

He responded instantly bringing that same grin to your face recognizing that he was falling into your spell and like the vixen you are… it was very much obliged. “Anything?” You raised an eyebrow, reaching for the clip to his chest piece to pull yourself forward, whispering in his ear as you felt his hands creep up your thighs sending waves of electricity throughout your body with the hidden slit in your skimpy now revealing your soft skin below, his thoughts began to capsize making him get that much closer to falling into your trap.

“Anything…” He uttered low and slow as he panned back to his troopers nodding towards the door to indicate that they leave with you ordering the twileks in their language to treat the clones with 'upmost hospitality'.... and a room for the night. The girls mischievous grin matched their leaders as they delivered the clones out of the room, flirting and offering drinks downstairs at the bar with the rest of the women fully igniting the sirens nest as it became fully active with new toys to play with.

As the blaster door closed behind the captain redirected his attention to you as you patiently analyzed the man gripping your thighs. It had been long since youve been with someone and the moment you first laid eyes on him he had already been caught in your web of desires. There was something about him that seemed dominating.... like- every other man you came across who failed to live up to your expectations left you blue and disappointed but, this one? Seemed much different.

"Take off your gear"

You ordered watching him finish unclipping his chest piece you so graciously started followed by his shoulder pads and gauntlets pausing before he set his twin blasters on the table next to you. Him purposefully reaching past you at close proximity to give you a good look of who you were messing with, making you smile with determination- admiring his tenacity to front you as if it were childs play. The man was experienced. Things just kept getting better and better, keeping you much incited watching him take the rest of his gear off down to his blacks. You crossed your legs bringing your hand to your jaw as you inspect the man before you.

You pointed to him twirling your fingers in circles to indicate he take off the rest but was only met with half a response. He never left your eyes throwing his shit to the ground revealing his worked muscles and battle scars. This wasnt the body of just any man. It was a warriors. Chiseled down to the smallest fiber of muscle, he was extremely built for his size and you could tell from the scars and healing wounds that it wasnt for show. Compared to your body, each scar you carried had a story... making you wondering more and more what his were. 'Hes intriguing...-'

You scoffed

Amazed you could be so into someone within hours of meeting. Most men was out of lust, or a result of the drunk in you and never really meant anything nor have you ever cared. But this man...clone- he was the type of different you didnt know you liked and now? It was time to test how just how strong he is. You hopped off the desk, this time pacing to him as both your eyes locked in a dance, treading carefully around him. You first look at his chest, seeing 2 or 3 scars and a couple wounds, but the one that intrigued you the most was the one over his heart, raising your hand to touch the withered scar. "A near death experience I see?", You raised an eyebrow smiling but was not returned in kind. "It was a long time ago.." He stated averting his eyes forward as he delved into his memory of the blast that left him incapacitated for a few weeks. Not something he enjoyed reflecting on as you continued patrolling around him bringing yourself back to where you started. You had counted 10 scars in total, most of them new but the one that intrigued you the most was the one on his chest. Though, getting that story out of him would be complicated given his state.

So to spice things up; Since Tattoine's suns were now at the horizon... leaving the planet in its evening golden state, it was the perfect time to return the favor. You faced towards the balcony, your back against him, feeling the warm breeze swoop in as you inhaled the gentle smell of fruits and fragrances that inundated the room. You slid the straps of your summer dress down making it drop to the floor with ease. Beneath revealed your secrets. Dark blue lingerie built into a harness carrying various versions of knives on your thighs, upper arms, and waist band. The rest? Open skin and to his shock? A multitude of deep, penetrating scars across your body some that looked extremely deadly and others... The burn on your thigh covered by a krayt dragon tattoo, revealed your finite curves and breasts. Though you were wearing a bra and panties that are see through (if you close enough) wondering which area he would choose to look, noticing his eyes carrying to the burn on your thigh and the tattoo that shields it.

"Nal Hutta..." you uttered as you start to disarm yourself. The captain put his hands behind his back still holding composure as he listened- watched as you place your weapons on the desk lined up neatly next to his blasters and when you turned around you could feel his eyes burning on you. No doubt on the thong that revealed your toned appendages to him. Large and jelly like- it was what most men went for making you wonder if he was an ass or tits type of guy. Nevertheless... you finally drop the harness on the dress below your feet leaving you only in your underwear and panties. "I was releasing some twileks who were illegally traded, actually those two girls who were here are from that raid. Tanker blew up during rescue, barbecued my thigh-", You paused briefly, slapping your thigh to make it jiggle. The action making the captain raise a brow as he continued to listen with anticipation as the blood started rushing through his body watching you jiggle before him. You folded your arms and continued,"-Lucky for me, I had hired a bounty hunter who knew how to tattoo. The Krayt Dragon here on tattooine-?" You paused again turning around to see his regain his composure, making you grin at the sight of him losing it. "They're ferocious creatures not to be trifled with but hunted for rare pearls inside them. Kinda like all of us here..."

The malicious grin that sprawled on your face. Officially warning him of where he is though it didnt phase him at all. He remained still, listening...waiting. Now left in your undergarments you slowly walked up to the captain tracing your fingers along his chest while looking up with lewd eyes to get him to break. "So captain...whats your story?", your traced your finger along his chest scar only to be captured by the wrist yet again, as he grew tired of the stalling.

"And whats your game?"

He asked, as you furrowed your eyebrows and was caught by surprise when he lifted you onto him slamming you onto the desk behind making some of your knives fall to the ground. You looked up to him, your arms around his neck as he growled in your ear, "If you want me to fuck you just say it" You were stunned seeing this type of impulse come so randomly and out of the blue. It was unexpected but to your surprise you liked it and it turned you on. "Say it...", the lust now oozing from him, seeing the bulge in his blacks grow larger and larger. But you were still caught up in the moment, wanting to be absolutely dominated by this man at all costs and to be honest....you think he already caught on as rash as he has been these last couple of minutes, he started by ripping your bra off to reveal your hardened nipples, his tell sign to continue. He looked down, cupping your breast in his burley, hands squeezing hard. A moan escaped your lips, "Say it...", he utters squeezing again.

His order turned into a demand

Now controlling the mood and the situation as you throw your head back enjoying his touch. Feeling yourself pool below, begging to be ravaged. You shot your hand up to his. stopping him in place as you brought a vicarious look to shadow his own, "If you want all the information requested... You're going to have to do a lot better than this... Captain", and though they weren't the words he needed, you had spoken. Rex pushed you down and slid your panties off, throwing your legs over his shoulders. The hand holding your breast now sliding down to meet his other at your hips as he kneeled down in front of the desk and started to devour you. Swirling his tongue over your jewel suckling at the sensitive flesh. Each circle of his tongue sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. An ecstasy you hadnt felt in so so long. He spread your thighs with his finger tips for better access as he feasted on your juices known to be every gentleman’s favorite until you unraveled.

"C-captain!"

You gasped, now gripping his head while furrowing your brows trying to maintain whatever dignity you had left, feeling the walls inside you begin to tighten and pulse. When he shoved two fingers inside of you, pressing on your special spot over and over you began to coo his name over and over, now holding your breath- closer to climax, "Don't stop..." You ordered only for him to refuse it, stopping directly in his tracks as he hovered before you. "If were going to do this, we are doing it my way...", He flipped you around aggressively. The shock forced your hands to slam against the desk for stability, enjoying how rough he was getting with you as you panned back to see him pull his bottoms down revealing his throbbing shaft pulsing for release. "Whatever you say..." you groaned, the juices dripping down your thigh as he spent not a second to waste shoving himself inside.

"Mmmm-ssss" It was slow at first, his brows furrowed in tune with the moans escaping his lips as he threw his head back starting the thrust little by little. He felt enormous, filling all of you inside not regretting a second as he continued thrusting against your tight walls pressing against your cervix. He lifted your hips now pile driving you into the desk. Each thrust sent never ending jolts through your body making even your cheeks jiggle. The wet sounds from both your skin and juices now filled the silence as the ecstasy starting to grow uncontrollably. Between his grip, feeling all the pent up anger that had built since the clone ways ended, and the way his hips rocked against yours the devilish scene carried into carnage. He started panhandling you, whipping you around and fucking you in the air with only the slaps of your skin and moans filling in the silence.

-Sounds that can be heard from all over the dome

hearing you call his name over and over again, fucking you as if you were the last peerson on earth available to him. You could tell its been a while for him too but seeing that face, the anger and the lust lost in translation of each other, blending into this perfect moment you were sharing until his beautiful brown eyes met yours. Just the way he looked at you, like a lion ready to feast on its pray made your walls tightened again, the climax almost at its peak as the captain started pulsing inside you. "Where...", he asked slamming you back down on the desk throwing one of your legs around him as he continues thrusting. "Anywhere....", you managed to slip out only for him to pump into you three more times before he shot his seed all over your body. Thread after thread of warm white liquid graced your skin, sending goosebumps in contrast of the cold air between. He collapsed above you, using a arm to hold himself up as you both took a moment to capture your breaths.

It had been a while, a very long while since Rex got to feel someone so amazing. It had even been so long since he touched himself, all that cum thats been building... He wanted to leave his mark somewhere elsee too. He reeinserted himself saving the last beads of white for you as he cuppeed your lower back bringing you in for a kiss "Yeah Captain?" still feeling him pulse while his eyes were closed, riding out his high as the pace slowed putting one last pump before pulling out watching the reeaminder drain out of you.

"Yeah...", He said, now locked into your eyes seeing he wasn't quiet done. He looked over seeing the bed in the open concept room and panned back to you. The devious look in both your eyes led to a night full of ambition and lust. You tried to get up only for him to throw you over his shoulder and drop you in the bed. "Who said we were done?"

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