#but the robot arm will be in my memory forever... love you little robot arm <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[liberty-spiked]

we did a school excursion today and we visited a company that had a small robot arm qwq they turned it on to show us... it was the cutest fucking thing ever, man. i dont think i've ever seen something move this smooth and efficient.

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. teeth rotting fluff (lots of feelings), little smut (towards the end) domestic things because why not, kissing and making out. etc.

𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

dividers by @cafekitsune & @anitalenia 🩷

Heat radiated from his body, and you became just as much warm because you were naturally made to adapt your body to humans. Meanwhile you rested and charged up lying on your back Logan snuck into your bed. Opening your eyes you blinked, adapting to the pink vision from the love mode. He slept so peacefully next to you one arm draped over your stomach keeping you close. The neon lights peeking through the dark curtains— illuminating the room. Touching his forearm slowly tracing every vein on his arm. He woke slowly. “Good Morning Sir..” smiling small gently leaning in to peck his mouth and he responded. “Mornin bub” he groaned rolling on his back realising he moved to the guest room after you two connected as deeply as it could the night before. “How are you feeling Sir?” Tilting your head to face him cupping his cheek with the back of your hand. Kissing your palm Logan climbed on top of you nestling between your legs. Without any words his mouth was on yours kissing you, you responded. Your vision becoming blurry with pink hearts exploding at the back of your mind— your arms draping around his shoulders legs parting even more. A moan escaped your glossy lips when your tongues started to dance in wild passion replicating his carnal need to connect with you early in the morning. His hands explored every naked curve of your body licking into your mouth.

“Coffee?” Asking softly preparing breakfast for him. Logan walked over to you hands gluing to your hips nuzzling the back of your neck inhaling your scent. “Please princess.” Your relationship deepened. It wasn’t only just because of the love mode. It was because he actually loved spending time with you— he introduced you to movies. Watching movies with him late at nights. Holding your hand fingers joined together as you walked outside. Logan was never the one to talk first until you broke the silence and asked him about his life. He didn’t like talking about the hard times— he never had a happy memory it seemed. You were the only happy memory he ever had and created.

“I can’t let you go..” a soft whisper could be heard from behind you as you cooked dinner for him. “Sir, i am not leaving you I assure you.” You smiled softly. The more you spend time with him the better you became with human communication. “Your contract ends in few days, I’m going to have to return you and I can’t do that. I don’t want to give you up” putting some hair behind your ear his face softened. Your glossy lips puckered as you pecked his stubbly cheek. “Extend your rental Sir.. I will be all yours.” You smiled but Logan didn’t seem to smile at your words. “What is wrong Sir?” Turning off the stove you stepped in front of him. “I don’t want to rent you anymore. I want to buy you” he sighed leaning his forehead against yours and you read his emotions. He was saddened that you’d have to go in few days. “If you buy me sir.. I shall be yours forever” he cooed at your words. “I can’t lose you..” nodding your hands slipping around his back to caress it.

-

“Are you paying me for her?” Your seller quirked a brow at Logan. “Shut the fuck up and take the goddamn money. She’s mine” something snapped in him. “Fuck, alright. She’s worth more but I am going to keep my mouth shut. I know who you are.” Logan grunted angrily eyeing the security men entering the room. “You don’t know anything about me” turning around his claws growing out. “I paid for her. Now leave me the fuck alone.” Your seller nodded. “Let him go. You can keep that useless robot. I will make dozens more” Logan snorted. “I knew it. You’re a fucking asshole—” claws retrieved by themselves once he left the building. Logan walked home since his car got crashed, humans were so greedy that they vandalised everything in their way. The heavy rain covered the entire city, as he stilled his feet he could see the advertisement screens presenting you as the perfect housewife robot. It was too late— you were now bought. Maybe Luck was on his side…

You waited patiently, by the dining table. The food was warm when you heard the elevator door open. Logan stepped in soaked from the rain, you quickly rushed to get a towel. “Oh Sir! I should’ve given you the umbrella” you walked up to him drying his face and his hair. He groaned picking you up in his arms your legs wrapping around his waist. “Perfect little thing aren’t you bub?” You nodded quickly. “Perfect for you Sir. Dinner is ready” he hummed in appreciation sitting down at the dinner table having you on his lap. He let you pat dry his body and he watched you with soft eyes. “You’re mine now..” he whispered arms circling around you. You stopped your doings checking the system and instead of ‘rented’ it was now ‘owned by Mr Howlett” you threw your arms around his neck smiling wide. “Thank you so much Sir I will take care of you” Logan’s heart fluttered. “I want to take care of you” your very loving relationship was about to begin. You knew that you were connected on deeper level and Logan felt so bonded with you. It was almost unbelievable that you could even make that happen—

“S-Sir..” you gasped accepting his protected cock right inside of you. His warm breath fanned the back of your neck as you both lied on the couch watching a movie quietly, cuddling up. “There we go princess” he groaned carnally needy for you rutting his hips into you from behind. The soft clapping sounds only added to the pleasure you felt waves of pleasure in your system. “I love you” you breathed watching him grope your naked breasts. Moans spilling out of your lips as he filled you out battering his cock inside of your warm velvety pussy from behind holding you to his chest your back arched pressing your shoulder blades against his naked chest. “Fuck..” he let out a shaky sigh of pleasure gritting his teeth tightening his arms around you “I love you..Increase your emotions to hundred percent” his answer caused you to moan out loud.

— Love overdrive —

-

( if any grammatical mistakes, I apologise in advance)

[luna-andra]

Domesticated!König Headcanons: Meeting the future In-Laws ✨

Image: @Skavod29 on Twitter (Source)

I was floored by how much attention my first headcanon post got. Y'all had me fucking emotional and I am so happy it's something people actually like. It keeps me coming back to post more of my silly little ideas. Forever grateful for your support! ❤️

I also need to reiterate that my blog/posts are 18+ so MDNI, this one has some NSFW bonus HCS 💋

If you missed the first one, here :) StepDad!Konig is here!

I got other stuff! Masterlist pinned on my blog

When you decided it was time for your parents and König to meet, you were tempted to slip a Xanax into his morning coffee. It is not like he hasn’t said a polite hello and a few words over the phone or when you facetime them, but now he was finally meeting them in person. You’ve seen him more calm talking to two- and three-star generals than this, the kinds of things that rattled your nerves.

You swore he changed attire more times than you did. The sight of him re-rolling his sleeves on his button up shirt made you intervene before he undid them all over again. He paused when your hands held his, then flicked his azure eyes up to you. “They’re gonna love you, my king.” Your gentle smile and comforting words got through to him.

They welcomed you and the mystery man with open arms at their front door. Mom never knew how to keep her thoughts to herself, but she really did mean well. Of course, the first thing they all notice is how König has to duck under their doorway to come inside. “You weren’t lying when you said he was tall,” mom said. You gave her a warning look followed up with an apologetic smile to König. He managed to chuckle it off, it was nothing new for him. It did make him curious about what else you’ve said to your mom about the two of you.

You gave König a tour of your childhood home, nearly having to pry him from the wall of photos of you and your family. He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face of the little timeline displayed in pretty frames; your first elementary school photo, a photo of you in a boy/girl scouts uniform, another of you during extra-curricular activities (band/orchestra, JROTC, sports, theater, robotics team, etc.), a prom photo with you and old friends, and lastly your high school graduation picture. König wanted a copy of one of them to keep in his wallet, mom promised to get him one behind your back.

König's field day got better when you showed him your childhood bedroom. Depending on how you last had it decorated, you were either low key bashful or regretting even showing him. It was like traveling back in time for him, giving him a glimpse of the kid and teen, you used to be. A chance to fall in love with every facet of you.

He was getting more comfortable when he found out your dad wasn’t out to get him as much as he thought. They ended up sitting in the living room, talking about a topic after your dad played twenty questions to figure him out. Something either about guns, hunting, hiking, fishing, blue-collar work, and if your dad is a veteran, they got along faster than you could imagine. You and mom caught up in the kitchen as you helped her finish up with cooking and setting the table.

If you have siblings, they showed up in the nick of time before dinner, to share embarrassing stories of you when you were a kid, or the stories you all waited to tell when you all were adults to avoid from getting in trouble. König watched and listened as you got more animated with laughter. Loving every second of this. He had a handful of memories he could count on his hand that were of happier times, but your memories became his favorite ones.

Everyone pestered the two of you for the story of how you met. And since you’ve been doing most of the talking, you looked to König to tell the tale. Your eyes never left him as he started the story from his point of view, recollecting the moment he saw you and how he was trying to come up with an excuse to try and talk to you. It donned on you that this was the first time you were hearing the way he saw you. “And now we’re here,” he concluded, looking over to you with a grin and a touch to your hand underneath the table.

NSFW Bonus:

König couldn’t stop thinking about taking you in your childhood room, nearly fantasizing what it would’ve been like if the two of you met as teens/younger adults. Indulging in the idea of sneaking into your bedroom window or standing outside with a boombox in 80s/90s style fashion.

Of course, your parents offered you to stay with them, not wanting you to have to rent a hotel room or travel back (depending on how far away you lived from them), so the later the night got, the more distracted König became with fulfilling his dirty thoughts.

It was just like the old days, having you home and hearing the music coming from your speakers when someone passed by the doorway. You were just showing König your CD collection, right?

It definitely wasn’t because you were trying to muffle your moans and screams as he pounded you into that fucking mattress. Making you a drooling and brainless mess under his rutting hips. He kept praising you for taking him so well and for being so quiet like the good little fuck thing you were, making it harder not to cum so fast. Secretly, this was your fantasy too, and you wanted it to last a little longer than the 10 minutes of foreplay and fucking you had already endured.

Likes & reblogs are always appreciated! Stay tuned for more to this unexpected series! Asks are opened for requests & ideas for others.

[nights-at-crystarium]

HI. so. im going to dump a load of thoughts about this illustration on tumblr instead of bluesky because i have so many thoughts about this so please bear with me (feel free to post this if u want!)

like. one of my favourite soulcrushing parts of shadowbringers grahas characterisation is ironically: how hes portrayed in post shadowbringers - a free spirit with a thirst for adventure

its so clear therefore, from how he composes himself after hes been freed from his duties at the first that he wants to see the world. reclaim the joy that he abandoned to save a world. finally live after spending thousands of years as a dead man walking. a ghost in the shell

but in shadowbringers, that graha, the adventure-loving graha, is killed. stuck at the top of the crystal tower, forever unmoving. he didnt necessarily get cut and paste into his new body, he creates a second entity with all his memories and identity.

so THIS graha, the one with the crystal arm stays dead. his story has no happy end. and i LOVE how uve specifically placed focus on his crystal arm and intentionally saturated the blue. hes transparent. fragile. ephemeral. hes a dead man walking, half tower-half man. his state is unstable, like glass, the tower slowly creeping through every part of him until hes subsumed into it. theres such a specific sense of beautiful body horror that i think your illustration plays into and highlights. the red - his signature colour is slowly being washed away with the tide of blue, like his whole self is slowly being washed away as his duties literally eat away at his life

and god. that expression. its a little unreadable - partly because hes trying to cover it up, but yet you can still SEE that quiet anguish and terror show through. hes simply too earnest. any hard face he tries to put up will fall away with time simply because not him, nor anyone, can bear the burden of a whole world.

and i know hes portrayed as happily self destructive throughout the msq, him literally concoting a brazen suicide plan to save the first and the warrior, yet we know that he is someone who appreciates life, living. he was literally able to convince an unfeeling robot that life has joy in it in endwalker, so i dont think its too much of a stretch to say that theres a part of him in shadowbringers that is intimately terrifed of his duty. the horrific trolley problem of your life against the star, where you pull the lever. and this terror is so nakedly presented in your illustration, the way he tries to hide away from it, but simply cant, the way that his stare seems both anxious, afraid, yet resigned, a grim awareness that this version of him, the one stuck in the first only has one destination: the end.

but he still fights! still tries to hide away from it, appreciate life every step along the way. gaze at the night sky that returns after eons. make his loved one some sandwiches. try to hide that gnawing inevitability of his fated death. the one that he physically cannot avoid. the one that he knows will shatter him, like a pane of glass hit by a hammer.

youve nailed almost every part of shadowbringers graha that made his story so fucking compelling!!!!! god!!!!!

i think everyone present here will enjoy reading this

[nahoney22]

Hey I just hopped onto the bad batch fan wagon and I absolutely love ur blog! <3 I was wondering if I could request a little something about tech x reader who lost a limb/arm during battle or on a mission and he makes her a robotic prosthetic and routinely does maintenance or upgrades on it and each visit brings them closer until they realize they love eachother?

Optimisation

Tech X F!Reader

word count: 2.8k

When you lost your arm,you almost gave up hope. No longer feeling like yourself, you didn’t know what to do. But, when Tech introduces you to a prosthetic, both of your relationships take a turn for the better.

warnings: fluff and slight angst, friends to lovers, mentions of anxious and emotional reader, loss of limb. Reader is a little reluctant at first to having a prosthetic and is standoffish. Talks about feelings. Subtle cutesy glances and touches etc. female reader. Not proofread.

authors note: I’m so sorry for the delay. Lost in my inbox 😭 enjoy. Also notices you said ‘her’ in the request so assumed it was female reader??? Anyway, enjoy! 🤍

Your mind was swirling in a sea of thoughts. Most churned with memories of the mission that had forever changed you and some thought being nothing at all.

Perched on the edge of a small cliff, your gaze swept over the picturesque landscape, offering a fleeting moment of respite.

The loss of your arm had been an abrupt, harrowing experience, a fragmented blur that you could scarcely piece together. With one arm gone, a pervasive sense of uselessness had crept into your existence. You questioned your relevance in the squad – what purpose did you now have? How could you possibly help anyone?

Suddenly, a voice disrupted the chaotic maelstrom of your thoughts. You didn't turn to face him, but you recognised it was Tech.

"Ah, there you are," he remarked as he approached, standing beside you, his presence felt more than seen.

"Here I am," you mumbled, not particularly interested in conversation. It wasn't that you harbored any ill feelings toward Tech or your comrades for that matter; you were simply weary of being treated like fragile glass. Tech however, in his own characteristic manner, had always been rather direct in his approach.

"I'm here to assess you," he stated matter-of-factly.

Your brows furrowed in mild confusion, and you turned your gaze toward Tech, who was engrossed in his datapad. "...For what?"

"Just an annual routine check," he replied, raising his eyes from the screen. "But, given your recent loss of limb, it's essential to make this assessment more comprehensive."

You heaved a heavy sigh, momentarily glancing away. This was the last thing you felt like dealing with, but deep down, you understood it needed to be done. You pushed yourself to your feet and turned to face Tech, who began to examine you, asking questions about your health and emotional state. Your responses were typically laced with bluntness and sarcasm, which seemed to go over Tech.

Yet, his examination was momentarily halted when he noticed you involuntarily flinch as he approached the space where your arm had once been, now left hauntingly vacant.

Tech observed your flinch and remarked, "You're flinching, yet you have nothing to flinch for."

You responded with a deadpan stare, then shifted your gaze to where your arm used to be, saying with sarcasm, "Oh no, where did that go?" This earned you a disapproving frown from Tech.

"I will note that down as sarcasm," Tech said, inputting data into his device, while you rolled your eyes in response.

"Are we done now?" you inquired, eager to be done with the examination.

Tech nodded, replying, "Yes, for now. I want you to come find me in a few hours. I have an idea." His words held a hint of mystery, leaving you curious. Before you could inquire further, Tech had already turned and left. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for your earlier tone, but you were indeed worn out. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but wonder what he had in store for you.

As the hours passed, the rest of the squad departed for a supply run, and though Wrecker had offered you the opportunity to join them rather enthusiastically, you weren't quite up to it. Not just yet. But Tech had stayed behind so instead, you decided to explore Tech's request.

"Hey," you called out as you entered the Marauder's cockpit. Tech had his back to you, but he swiveled the pilot chair around to face you. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw what he held in his hands – a prosthetic arm.

"What's that?" you inquired, feeling a surge of nervousness.

"I've created an arm for you," Tech replied in his usual matter-of-fact tone, seemingly unaware of the reluctance evident on your face.

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably, and your palm grew clammy. "Oh, Tech... I'm not sure about this," you admitted, hesitating.

Tech lowered the prosthetic arm and arched an eyebrow at your apprehension. "But you are evidently unhappy about missing an arm, yes? Having a new one should be a suitable replacement."

You were torn. Undoubtedly, you yearned for your arm, but the idea of an artificial one felt invasive. Tech finally picked up on your reluctance, reading the uncertainty in your eyes.

"I suggest you take a seat, and we can discuss this together. It's just a prototype for now. Once we secure more income from Cid, I can enhance it," Tech reassured, adopting a more empathetic tone.

You silently took a seat across from Tech, perched on the edge of the chair as he scooted a bit closer. "I took the liberty of assessing Echo's cybernetic as a base plan," he explained.

"Are you going to give me a scomp link too?" you questioned, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"That is a choice that is up to you," Tech replied, very gently rolling up your sleeve to assess the area. "Would you like one, similar to Echo's?"

"Is it bad if I say no?" you muttered, apprehension evident. Tech glanced up at you briefly and then shook his head. "Like I said, it is primarily your choice."

With efficient precision, Tech attached the prosthetic arm. You couldn't bring yourself to look at it. "Inform me on how it feels," he requested.

You remained in silence, feeling the weight of this sudden change press upon you. The experience felt unnatural, and you weren't prepared for the emotional shift it brought. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your throat tightened.

"You need to speak for me to—" he began to say, but then stopped as he saw a single tear slowly roll down your cheek. "Is it hurting? Uncomfortable?" He asked, panicking slightly.

You sniffled and confessed, "No, I... I don't know. I don't know how to feel, how it should feel."

Tech clicked his tongue as the realisation dawned that he might not fully comprehend your emotional state. He considered what Hunter might do in this situation and then carefully reached out, placing a somewhat awkward yet comforting hand on your knee. "If it's too much, we can revisit this another day. I should have been more transparent during the assessment earlier."

Wiping away a tear, you looked at his hand on your knee and then up at him, a mix of gratitude and regret in your eyes. "I'm sorry. You put in so much effort—"

"This was actually relatively straightforward," Tech assured with a hint of fondness, acknowledging his own exceptional skills. "But after twenty-two rotations of you missing your arm, I should have waited a bit longer or offered you this solution earlier."

This time, you managed a smile and watched as he carefully removed the prosthetic. As he packed it away in its case, you said nothing more. However, when you stood to leave, you hesitated and turned back to him.

"Tech?"

"Yes?" he responded.

"Can we try again? Maybe tomorrow?"

He turned to you and offered a faint, reassuring smile. "Of course. Come and find me whenever you are ready.”

Late in the evening, much later than anticipated, the following day, you mustered up the courage to face Tech. Wearing a sheepish smile, you found him alone in the cockpit. "I must say I wasn't expecting you to show up today," he greeted you as you took a seat across from him.

"I have to admit, I wasn't sure if I was going to show up either," you confessed. "I had to psyche myself up."

"Very well, let's get to it," Tech replied, reaching for the prosthetic arm that he had tucked away under a control panel. You quietly observed that he had been clearly tinkering with it today as it looked slightly different from the last time you saw it – this time it had a hand.

"May I?" Tech gestured to your sleeve, and with a nod, he rolled it up. You glanced away as he manually attached the prosthetic, still not fully comfortable with looking at the stump that remained. It was a bit fidgety this time, but you felt no pain.

"Now, how does it feel?" Tech repeated the question from yesterday. Slowly, you turned your attention to the new addition to your body.

"I don't know," you admitted.

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you enlighten me about the weight? Is there a perfect counterbalance, or...?"

You attempted to move the arm, but it was just a small, feeble motion. Deep in concentration, you struggled to get your brain to sync with your new limb. This time, Tech noticed your disappointment. "A simple alteration will do the trick, I assure you."

"Don't worry, I trust you," you reassured him softly, causing Tech to pause at your words.

"You do?" he asked, sounding somewhat surprised as he turned his attention to you.

You nodded, your sincerity apparent. "Well, yeah? Of course, I do. I'm... I'm very grateful for you doing this. You didn't have to."

A warm smile graced Tech's face as he fidgeted slightly with his tools. "No, but I wanted to. You've done a lot for us since you joined our squad. It's only fair that I give you something in return." He leaned in to assess the arm once more, ensuring the measurements were precise.

As Tech's deft fingers worked on your new arm, you couldn't help but feel something different. The proximity was unusual yet not unwelcome, and you found yourself intrigued. Has he always been this handsome? Breaking the silence that had fallen between you, you asked, "Have you always been good at this kind of stuff, or do you have expertise in other areas?"

Tech replied quietly, "I've always been good at everything. But statistics and data have always been what I've excelled in the most. This isn't second nature to me, so don't worry. You're in good hands."

"I can tell," you responded softly. This time, he looked at you, and the proximity between your faces caught both of you off guard. His eyes searched yours as he tried to decipher your thoughts and feelings, while he felt a strange fluttering feeling in his chest, “you've always been good to me.”

He gulped but he held your gaze a moment longer before turning his attention back to his work. Tech cleared his throat once more and tried to refocus on the work at hand, yet the distraction had left its mark. "I see that some of the measurements are a little off, so I will have to a-alter it again," he explained, sitting up and looking at you. The subtle stutter in his words caught your attention, and you found it surprisingly endearing.

You nodded in agreement, your heart racing a bit faster than you'd anticipated. "That's fine."

As the prosthetic was removed, you stood up, and to your surprise, so did Tech. The closeness was undeniable, and your breath hitched as you looked up at his tall, slender frame. Was he always this ridiculously handsome? Was it merely a fleeting feeling because of his help with the new arm, or had there been something underlying all along?

You intended to thank him, but in that moment, you caught him looking at your lips. Or so, you thought you did. Was the lights playing tricks on you or were you that delusional? But as the awkwardness lingered, Tech quickly realised his gaze had strayed and cleared his throat. "Same time tomorrow?" he suggested, avoiding direct eye contact.

You took a step back, creating some much-needed space between you, and nodded. "Uh, y-yes, sure." Your own stutter surprised you, and to avoid any further awkwardness, you retreated to your bunk. What on Kamino was happening?

Tech had worked miracles in just a few days, tirelessly devoting every waking moment to helping you adjust to your new prosthetic. And today was no exception as he had you practicing with various types of equipment.

"Tech, I think I've got the hang of it. I don't need to hold a holopad every five minutes," you protested.

"Repetition leads to full optimisation. So, do as you're told," he instructed, his gaze fixed intently on you through the rings of his goggles.

"Yes, sir," you replied, playfully rolling your eyes. You both avoided addressing what had happened the other day when you caught him gazing at your lips. Nevertheless, your attraction to him had grown, and he had become more than just a friend in your heart.

Spending so much time together, you had picked up on each other's quirks, likes, and dislikes. You had a genuine camaraderie, and you both had fun in each other's company. Tech made you feel normal, and it wasn't just the feeling of a comrade giving you an arm; it was the warmth of a friend, and perhaps something more, offering you some hope and happiness.

"What are you thinking about?" Tech asked, interrupting your reverie.

"Honestly?" you asked, your new prosthetic arm flexing up and down as your fingers tapped absently at a datapad, giving you an air of importance. "You."

Tech had picked up some tools as he continued to monitor your progress with the prosthetic. He was working on other projects simultaneously, but your words caught him off guard, and he stumbled slightly, dropping the tools to the floor. "Oh, well, is that a recurring thought… or something new?" he asked, his response laced with awkwardness as he fixed his clumsiness and pushed his goggles up his nose.

You shrugged, your nonchalance masking the true depth of your feelings. "I guess it's new... I'm just enjoying your company." Your heart pounded with a meaning that transcended the words. "And I don't know where to start on how to repay you for the arm."

"Nothing to repay," Tech replied sincerely, his voice a touch shy. He added, "I suppose,” he pauses for a second, hesitant for the first time in a long time, but goes ahead, “being in your company is enough for me, too."

Much like the other day, and sometimes throughout the days in between him fixing your arm, you both find yourself looking at each other. Really looking. Your eyes meet and it’s as if words were slowly being exchanged over, expressing how both of you were feeling in that moment.

However, Tech grappled with his feelings, unsure how to express them. He wasn't well-versed in emotions, and these thoughts about you were entirely new to him. He questioned if these inclinations were normal, the desire to kiss you, and the mere notion felt alien because he had never encountered such thoughts before. His brain was designed for well, anything but this. Not for pondering if a girl liked him.

"Have you ever felt scared before?" The question caught Tech off guard, making him think deeply.

"Yes, yes, I have actually," he admitted, surprising you. You raised a curious eyebrow.

"Mind telling me?" you asked gently, watching as his knee began to bounce restlessly.

He shifted his position and turned slightly away from you, an uncharacteristic shyness creeping over him. "It was quite recent. To be more precise, it was the mission in which you lost your arm."

You whispered a soft "oh" in response, feeling a mix of emotions as he continued to speak.

"You've always been a strong presence in this squad. Although you might not be as intelligent as I am, you're smart. You're well-trained in combat, you're good to Omega, and you're good to all of us," he explained, focusing on a small task in his hands rather than looking at you. "I feared that with you losing your arm, you would feel at a disadvantage. I suppose I was scared of you losing yourself. That's why I created the arm."

Tech's confession left you somewhat speechless, and his avoidance of eye contact spoke volumes. "You really care about me?" you asked, seeking confirmation.

He stilled, and you could see him swallow hard. "I do. Though, I feel that I care about you more than just a comrade. More than a friend." His words were careful, yet they carried a depth of meaning that you understood. He loved you, and you felt the same way.

With tenderness, you leaned closer, your new arm raising to gently turn his head to face you. There was a small gasp at the touch, but as he looked at you, his gaze focused once more on your lips.

You closed the gap, your lips pressing softly against his in a tender kiss. It was brief, but as you pulled back, Tech surprised you by dropping his tools to the floor once more and cupping your cheeks with both hands, bringing your lips back to his.

In the tender embrace of your kiss, your fingers lightly trailed along the contours of Tech's cheek, eliciting a soft sigh from him. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs tenderly stroking your cheeks as he whispered softly between your lips, "I believe that I… love you."

The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine as your kiss deepened. Your arms found their way around his shoulders as he used one arm to pull you across and into his lap, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw with a gentle caress. "I believe that I love you too.”

Masterlist

More Tech Works

Tags and those who I think may like : @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz z @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @zoeykallus

[badtasteaquarium]

HEAD FULL MANY THOUGHTS

that last fic is like Biker Amy AU Soft Revival in a way. god that's been rolling in my brain for FOREVER and this is one of the first times i've had a concrete thing to like. execute

so like i think one way that scourge/amy situation should go is that they have more time to influence each other; scourge softens up and amy becomes more daring. but i can also see amy getting tired of the life (or scourge in particular, especially if he doesn't bend a little for her) and finding a way out. it's nuanced

i was like "you could insert surge in scourge's place and it would play out exactly the same, bright green strap and all" and that's true! but i think i'd save surge to exist in B universe. A can keep archie characters and B can have IDW. transgender dirtbag boyfriend scourge is great

i know the reason shadow is the most interesting is because. well you know. i love him. but i've concocted very different takes between A and B. like in A, SA2 is extremely canon but ShTH is not. shadow dies and is reconstructed as an android (that other piece regarding an end of SA2 i did years ago is retconned LOL). also chilling to know that GUN would have just used him as a weapon if he had not gained his own will via chaos energy. also imagining the grisley body horror of eggman putting shadow back together. because you KNOW he did most of the work.

tangentially eggman probably had him most of the way done (like. he looked like a guy again), and even painstakingly put his brain on ice and hooked up his spinal cord, and even preserved some of his blood to use for his Fluids. he would puff out his chest and be like "well why would i pass this opportunity up, i've already made the first robotic humanoid android [metal sonic], why stop there??". but secretly. he had a soft spot for him. it wasn't fair for a memory altered kid like that to get it back, turn it all around, save the world, just to die like he did. so naturally he's a little upset when his experimental son, all grown up, doesn't visit or answer his calls. now he's a NARC and doesn't even care about world domination

CIRCLING BACK, contrast that to universe B, where SA2 isn't really a thing but ShTH IS canon. don't ask how that fully pans out when the two rely on each other, but it does. so yeah shadow is much more lizard alien and gets pseudo brainwashed into working for black arms to take over, and shit gets pretty dire. that's also the same canon where sonic and knuckles are drama lesbians together and silver is more important. transgirl amy is here.

A vs. B, sonic in A is like, transguy but too scatterbrained to like. go through all of the motions. like he binds but does not go on hormones. B!sonic is any pronouns genderfluid, but tends to present femme but is frequently Fast And Loose re: gender. bouncing off all this, the scourge/surge thing is different too; given that they're both "evil sonics/sonic clones" i like the idea of them being twins separated at birth. so like in A, scourge and sonic are twins, they're both transgender, but scourge is like getting T off the black market, chopped off his tits and has the freshman chin scruff. in B, sonic's got the fast and loose gender, while surge's gender is Butch.

anyway. i'm out of steam for this because i kept getting interrupted. i'm gonna draw the characters in that last story now

[myc-ology-whore]

A angst request. Reagan x reader. The reader is going to be sent to shadow prison for trying to get rid of Rand.

She'll Be Okay

Reagan Ridley x GN!Reader

ooh, i like this one >:) more angst for you guys, this time starring our favourite disgruntled scientist <3 reader is gn btw

another 4k story that i may or may not make a sequel to. the way things are now, however, i feel like i've satisfied the angst that was asked of me.

nsfw: no sexual content, but explicit gore is used.

When Rand took over, everyone was pissed, not just the upper management team. Reagan had just promised everyone so much, and she had intended to make good on all of her promises, but the robot Rand brought into the company had ruined everything, and somehow in the end he was the one to get put in charge? Of course people were angry.

You, however, were by far and away the most angry of all. Reagan was your girlfriend; you knew better than anyone just how abusive Rand was to her growing up, though whenever you'd try to point it out she would just brush it off, saying, "Well, he's still my dad. I can't just kick him to the curb."

And so, you and Rand had simply been at each other's throats at every given opportunity. He said you weren't good enough for Reagan and that you were holding her back from achieving more, and you said that he was an abusive, manipulative parasite who'd never even treated her like a daughter in the first place (only one of you was correct). Reagan tried to ignore it; she understood your anger toward Rand, and she loved you for being hurt and mad in her place, but she couldn't abandon him. She didn't listen to Rand either, thankfully, sticking things out with you and staying at your place more than half of her time in the months leading up to the Bear-O incident. She told herself she could still have you and not betray her father, though of course, that couldn't last forever.

She made the right decision that day after digging through her memories and finding out what Rand did to her, telling him to get lost. You, Reagan, and the rest of the gang had dinner at Reagan's place that night, celebrating the fact that she had finally stood up to Rand. You all helped her to throw his stuff onto the curb, and at the end of the night, after everyone else went home, it was just you and Reagan.

Reagan sighed happily as she locked the front door behind the last of your friends, turning around and leaning back on it as she looked around the now-much-cleaner living room. "It already feels so much better to look at," she said, beaming over at you with tired eyes. "Just knowing that he's gone is... It's so much more of a relief than I thought it'd be."

"I told you so," you laughed, opening your arms to her. "C'mere." She chuckled and obliged you, crossing the room to bury herself in your hold. You both hummed contentedly, enjoying the silence of the house and the warmth of each other, though something scratched painfully at the back of your mind. You kiss the top of her head before quietly addressing her. "Hey, honey?"

"Mhm?"

"What Rand did to you," you start, already feeling her tense up, "you know that it wasn't okay, right?"

She pulled back, looking at you incredulously. "It was utterly fucked up," she corrected, making you smile. She didn't always admit it so easily; this was progress. "Fucking up my memory is a whole new low, even for Rand."

"Good, I'm glad we agree." You touch her cheek softly, and the creases in her brow and forehead fade as she relaxes. "D'you know I would do anything for you?"

Reagan laughs a little, her eyes warm as she reaches up to trace your features in return. "So you say," she answers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. You close your eyes and kiss back, mouth opening and moving against hers lazily. She broke away to look at you once more, looking so happy and at peace. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she says, her voice wistful and filled with meaning. "You've been so patient throughout all of this, even though I was kind of stubborn in getting rid of Rand."

"Well, we haven't quite gotten rid of him yet," you reply, and Reagan frowns in confusion. "I've gotta drive him up to Canada and bury him in the snow before I'll feel satisfied that he's not coming back."

"As much as I'd like to strangle Rand myself, kidnapping and murder would get us put away for life."

"That's only if we get caught," you reminded. Reagan snorts at that, making a grin spread across your face. "I'd do it if you asked. I'm serious."

She rolls her eyes with a smile, giving you another quick peck before stepping away. "You're ridiculous," she chuckled, grabbing your hand and beginning to tug you toward the stairs. "C'mon, I'm tired of talking about that asshole. Let's go get ready for bed."

"Alright, alright," you say, relishing the warmth of her hand in yours.

That night was spent in blissful ignorance of what was to come the next day. When you woke up, Reagan was already out of bed, showered, and dressed, something completely unheard of. She was in such a good mood, better than you'd seen her in what felt like ages; she'd spent the morning putting together a little mini-model of what Cognito 2.0 would look like, and she'd ordered breakfast for the two of you. (She'd tried to cook at first, but ended up burning everything because she got distracted by her little project.) It felt like the end of an era, and seeing Reagan practically bouncing around the house with excitement for her promotion and her plans for Cognito made you feel happy and at ease. You loved seeing her smile so much.

That was why what happened when you got to work was so much worse. You were hanging out in the conference room with the gang, goofing off with Myc and Andre and going out of your way to annoy your friends, when Reagan came in with tears streaming down her face.

"Reagan, what's wrong, honey?" She'd immediately collapsed into you upon entry, dragging you to the ground and clutching onto you like she was about to fall off the face of the earth. She tried to speak, but couldn't talk over her sobbing. As you tried to calm her down, your friends gathered around you, unsure of what was going on.

"Deep breaths, Reagan," Gigi advised gently, crouching down beside you and resting a manicured hand onto Reagan's shoulder. "You've got to take deep breaths. In... and out... in... and out..."

As Gigi continued her breathing exercises to try to calm the hyperventilating Reagan, you looked up to your friends.

"I've never seen her this upset," Andre remarked, concern creasing his brows and forehead.

"Maybe Rand finally offed himself," Myc mused, earning him slaps from both you and Andre. "What? I thought we didn't care about him anymore."

You rolled your eyes, glaring at the mycelian. "Myc, you idiot, why don't you just read her mind and tell us what's going on?"

"Oh shit, you're right." He quickly went to place a flagella onto Reagan's head, the limb glowing pink as he sorted through her thoughts. Within a few seconds, he'd snatched the limb back as though he'd been burnt. "Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me."

"What? What is it?"

"It-- It's Rand," Reagan choked out, coughing as she tried to clear the phlegm from her throat. "He-- He's--"

"Calm down, sweetheart," you said softly, patting her back as she falls into another bout of broken cries. Turning back to Myc, you prompt, "He's what?"

Myc seems to hesitate for a moment. "He... took her position."

"...What?"

The room is silent aside from Reagan's bawling, even Gigi looking up in confusion and disbelief. "He took her position," Myc repeats, his voice small for once as he watches the tears dribble down Reagan's face, the way she's wrinkling your shirt in her fists. "He's the new CEO of Cognito."

No one speaks. For a moment, everything is still, aside from the shuddering gasps and sobs from Reagan. Then, the blood begins to boil in your ears. Your friends start to talk, their faces aghast and outraged, but you can't seem to hear them. All you can hear is a ringing in your head as you process the information that's been given to you.

Rand... He did this to get back at Reagan. He did this to hurt her for thinking she could escape him. You feel Reagan tighten her hold around your ribs, her face squished into your collarbone, and something in you flips like a switch.

I am not okay with this.

Gently, you pry Reagan away from your body. Her eyes are swollen and her nose is runny, cheeks red from the warmth of her tears, but she's still so pretty. You cup her face in both hands, using your thumbs to wipe to wetness from beneath her eyes. She sniffles and coughs again, trying to catch her breath as she looks at you. "What-- What am I supposed to-- to do?"

You smile fondly at her, leaning in the press a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Nothing, sweetheart," you say, running a hand over her head to smooth her ragged hair. "You just stay here, okay?"

"(Y/n)," she blubbers, her lip shaking violently as she tries in vain to regain her composure. "How could he do this to me?"

"I don't know, Reag," you admit, forcing yourself to maintain the smoothness of your features as you look at her, wanting to reassure her. "But hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"I love you so much, honey," you affirm, "and I'm not going to just sit here and do nothing about this."

Gigi nudges you, and you turn to look at her, doing your very best to keep your expression blank. "(Y/n), don't go and do anything crazy, you hear me? We're all just as furious about this as you are, but we have to make a plan before we can go and do something about this."

"For once, I agree," Glenn says from behind her. "As much as I love violence, we've got to make a plan of attack first. If we go in guns ablazin', we're liable to get sent down the tube on sight."

"We've got to get weapons, figure out where he sleeps," Andre surmised, hand on his chin in thought. "Then we can catch him by surprise!"

"Or we could just, y'know, do the easy thing and poison his coffee," Myc suggests.

"You guys, isn't there a way we can figure this out that doesn't include murder? I don't think I'll last very long in prison," Brett chimes in, looking nervous at everyone's plotting. "Why don't we all just calm down and really think about this?"

"Shut up, pretty boy," Myc dismisses, no one else even bothering to acknowledge the idea of not killing Rand. As your friends discuss the situation, you stand up, giving Reagan a pat on the head and straightening your jacket before you begin for the door. Myc notices first, and scuttles after you. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

"Figured you, of all people, could figure that one out," you reply, laughing coldly. Though any one of the gang could probably guess where you were headed, none of them could feel the pure, white-hot rage dripping off of you like Myc could. He's never seen you like this, however, and isn't quite sure how to approach the situation.

"It's a bad idea, and you know it," he hisses, looking around as he follows you out of the conference room. "You're gonna get yourself fucked up, bud."

"Maybe," you confirm, striding with a purpose toward the CEO's office. "Then again, maybe not. Maybe I'll tear his fucking head off before anybody can do anything about it."

"Even if you manage that, you're still gonna get fucked by the Shadow Board once he's dead," Myc reasons, his voice growing more hushed and anxious the closer you get to the elevators. "Look, I'm saying this because you're my friend, (Y/n), our friend. Just hold off for a while, yeah? C'mon, let's go back."

He tries to grab onto your arm to halt you, but despite his surprising strength, you're quick to tear yourself from his grasp. "Don't fucking touch me right now, Myc," you snarled as you whipped around, your whole body feeling as though it was on fire from your anger. Myc takes a step back, startled, and though you feel a sudden sense of guilt, you quickly turn and continue down the hallway. You're on a mission, and no one is going to stop you.

"(Y/n), we'll still be here when you come back," Myc calls after you, allowing you to go on without him. Under his breath, he adds solemnly, "If you come back."

You stop only once on your way upstairs, at one of the hidden weaponry stations. Myc had shown you before how to spot their subtle designs, and you were a bit surprised to find such a stash so high up in the building, since most of the offices and labs were underground. You grab the first handgun you see, not really knowing how to use it since you've never really been in contact with a gun, but you figure it out easily enough through what you've seen in movies and video games. You were honestly a little proud at how quickly you managed to pull out the magazine to check that the weapon was loaded, and after that it was only a matter of cocking it, pointing, and shooting. You shoved the gun into your waistband and closed the weaponry station, making a beeline for the CEO's office.

When you arrived and knocked on the door, there came no answer. You wondered if this was a trap, if Rand was prepared for someone to try to assassinate him, but pushed the thought back in your mind and opened the door as quietly as you could. Luckily, it was unlocked, and you stepped carefully into the office before closing the door behind you, not wanting to leave any signs of entry if at all possible. It seemed as though Rand had left, perhaps to use the bathroom or to grab some food. It was almost too convenient.

Still, you couldn't turn back now. Trap or not, you'd leave this office once one of you had a bullet in your chest. You were so fucking done, absolutely fed up, with the way Rand treated Reagan. He'd put her down so many times, made her feel stupid or selfish for trying new things or doing things that separated her from him. He treated her like a pawn, like nothing more than a tool, a weapon to wield, and it infuriated you. He'd made her cry for the last time, if you had anything to say about it. You sat down in the chair in the corner of the room, one that was slightly hidden from view of the doors by a partition; if things went according to your impromptu plan, then by the time Rand noticed you he would already be on the other side of the room and away from the exit, cornered. You didn't doubt some secret exit or defense mechanism was hidden here in the room somewhere, but you were ready to take your chances. You had to do this now, while you were determined and enraged, or else you'd chicken out.

Close to ten minutes after you'd arrived and gotten into position, the doors to the office opened. You sat still, relaxed, as you heard shoes tapping on the tiles, Rand's voice reaching you as he muttered angrily to himself.

"Shit, I left the fucking door unlocked," Rand grumbles out of sight. You hear the jingle of his keys as he shoves them back into his pocket, and watch his shadow against the floor as he straightens his jacket and starts forward into the room. "Gotta remember to start locking things again, now that I'm back in charge."

He pauses in the middle of the room, looking around the office but not behind him yet. "Back in charge," he laughs to himself, clearly satisfied with what he'd done to get here. "Christ, it's good to be home."

He lifts his foot as though he's about to continue onward to his desk, but stops short and lurches forward slightly. Things seem to move in slow motion as he clutches at his stomach; if you were looking at it from another point of view, it might look like he was just feeling nauseous. You were watching very closely, however, watching how the bullet ripped through him and hit the hard wood of the desk, the clean hole in his torso vomiting a mist of red in the bullet's wake.

All you can hear is that ringing in your ears as Rand doubles over, hunching forward at a right angle before bending at the knee and falling down. He rolls onto his side, and you see his mouth moving as though he's screaming, agony painted across his features, but you can't hear him. You cross the room slowly, the gun still clutched tightly in your hand, your knuckles white. Rand sees you, and though his wound is bleeding profusely, he lets it go to try to scramble away from you.

"Stop moving," you command, your voice not quite sounding like you as you pointed the gun at him again. He yelps at the gesture and raises his hands in surrender, his eyes shut tight.

"Don't, please," he begs, his voice finally reaching your ears. It's raw, as though his vocal chords have been torn, and tears bead at the corners of his eyes. Still, he tries to maintain his cockiness as you loom over him. "Y-You've fucked up big time, kid," he says, chuckling through gritted teeth. "You can still... still fix this, though. If you help me get to that button over there, I'll... I'll make sure you don't die when security comes to get you."

He gestures to a red button on the back wall, but you don't even glance up at it. "You're going to die," you inform him, watching as his strained smile twitches. "I'm going to shoot you in the head, and you're not going to be standing up again, I'm afraid."

Rand's face pales as he realises just how powerless he is in this situation, and you can't help the small smile that begins to twist your lips. He deserves this, you think, not a doubt in your mind.

"C-C'mon, kid, you don't have to do this," Rand said uneasily, his gaze flicking between your face and the gun. He tries to push himself up on one arm, raising the other in a halting motion as he backs up against the CEO's desk. "D'you think Reagan would still wanna be with you if... if you killed her old man? Think of how... broken she would be, knowing the jackass she kept around blew her dad's brains out. She'd hate you."

You snort involuntarily, covering your mouth with your free hand as you try to stifle your laughter. "Hate me? For killing you? My god, man, how out of touch with reality are you?" You adjust the gun in your grip and squat down beside the frail-looking bag of blood and bones wasting away on the floor, being careful to keep your aim trained on his head at all times. "I'm doing the world a favour right now, Rand," you sneered, bouncing slightly on your heels. "You're a fucking waste of space, and I think you know that."

He's shaking, his lips trembling as he tries to find something to say but fails. He grabs at the hole above his hip again, hissing in pain as he attempts to stop the bleeding.

"That's not gonna work, stupid," you scoff, slamming the side of your gun across his face. He groans, eyes squeezing shut again as you stun him. You briefly think of how good it felt to do that, but push the thought of repeating the action away. You weren't a sociopath like him, and you wouldn't be reduced to one out of anger towards him. His hazy gaze meets your own once more, and you realise you shouldn't be drawing this out at all. You stand, straightening yourself out. "I think it's time we cut to the chase. Don't you think so, Rand?"

"Please," he implores, his face scrunching up in discomfort as he knits his fingers together in a begging motion. "I'll... I'll give you whatever you want, just, please, don't--"

He's cut off by another thunderous bang, this one splitting his skull and blowing a hole straight through his frontal lobe and into the desk he sits up against. Bits of brain and blood splatter onto the wood and tile around him, and a sense of pride makes your chest swell.

Now he was gone, and only now was it over.

Heavy footsteps thud against the floor somewhere nearby, and you set the gun down onto the desk. You couldn't take your eyes off of Rand's face; aside from a small, jagged circle in the middle of his forehead, he looks almost exactly as he had a few moments ago. However, you knew by the amount of gore surrounding his head that the exit wound had been much less contained. Silently, you thought to yourself how a shotgun would have been a much more fitting murder weapon for a monster of a man like Randall Ridley.

"Holy shit," said someone from behind you, and you turn wordlessly to see two armed security guards in the doorway. The man who spoke tears his eyes from Rand's body to meet yours, and immediately he aims his gun at you. "P-Put your hands where I can see 'em, kid," he quavered, clearly unprepared to deal with this situation. "Hands up, now!"

He was scared, and fear made people more dangerous, more unpredictable. You'd already accepted the terms and conditions in this contract, however, and so you simply smiled and raised your hands in surrender. "The gun is on the table there," you advised, gesturing to the desk. "Don't worry, I'm unarmed. I'll come quietly."

"R-Right," the security guard replied uncertainly, looking you over as though you might explode if he stepped any closer. He turned to his partner, who remained gawking at the corpse lying haphazardly on the floor. "Brady, come on, man," the guard blurted, startling his partner so badly that he almost dropped his gun. "Go on! Go and, uh, disable 'em, I suppose."

"Yes sir," the second man answered, stepping cautiously toward you. You gave him what you hoped was a reassuring smile, but it was obvious that it only served to disturb him. "Hands behind your back, p-please," he stumbled, walking around you like you were a dangerous animal. You did as instructed, and the guard wrapped a pair of handcuffs around your wrists with shaky hands.

"Right, bring 'em here," the first man said, beckoning the other forward. You felt the second man grip your arm securely, and then you were being led forward, stopping right in front of the more commanding guard. "I suppose I don't have to ask why you did what you did," he reckoned, looking back at Rand. "Guess you had more problems with him than most, eh? That, or you just had less to lose or more to gain than the rest of us."

"It needed to be done," you explain simply. "It was as necessary as putting down a decrepit old dog, I assure you."

The man chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Can't argue with that logic. Unfortunately, we're going to have to put you in a holding cell, either until we've got a new boss or until the Shadow Board figures out what to do with you. I'm... sorry."

You can't help a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Apologising for arresting a murderer? What has this world come to?"

"I suppose you're right," the man replies. Holding one of the glass double doors open, he gestures into the hallway. "Brady, come on."

The second guard jumps and nods quickly, pushing you forward once again. As the door shuts behind you, you find yourself looking back at Rand's unmoving body, and a soft smile etches itself into your face. She'll be okay, now that he's gone.

She'll be okay.

[lovelybarnes]

saudade- l. laufeyson

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, mentions of other loki characters warnings: loki tv show spoilers, probably tva inaccuracies, mobius being trusted even though i don’t actually trust him lol, mentions of death, tears, a little sad angst but happy ending, ooc characters?? possible mistakes because i can't read this again skjfj about: requested, DF26 with TVA Loki running into the variant of his dead spouse a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i loved writing the last scene so much

loki has narrowly avoided the tva for years, opportunities much better than this and chaos a lot more chaotic than this have already been caused and passed. so the how and why he has been taken in at this very moment- while he’s eating at one of those fast food places you used to like- is very, very unknown to him. he should know, however; you’ve explained to him the tired concept of time traveling many times before, although the most important things were told to him when he thought you a mere mortal like the rest- something you were not- and could not possibly know something he didn’t- also something very untrue.

but the reasoning for his capturing is not at the front of his mind- although close- his main objective staying on how to get out of this unknown place and go back to looking for you- whether the fragile fabrics of reality and string of the timeline fray and break or don’t. he knows it possible, having seen the avengers do something similar, so why can a god like him not?

he’s ripped many holes, and he supposes the consequences for them are finally catching up to him, a lot sooner than he’d like. in another world, he’d already have you, and, with you by his side, you both would’ve been out long before, or never captured at all. although, he supposes, in a perfect world, you never would have been taken away from him in the first place.

he knows stopping for food he didn’t even necessarily need- or, really, like- was not a smart decision. he’s realizing exactly how not-smart of a decision it was with every passing second that the fools in armor drag him along the halls. the stop wasn’t needed, much less planned, but the memories the greasy food and dirty restaurant brought were too pleasant- a break full of you in the nonstop mission to find you. he could nearly feel your fingers touching his, hear your voice urging him to at least try and your bubbled laugh when he cringes. the fizz of the soda had made him grimace like the first time, except there was no you to giggle at it.

loki nearly thinks it was worth it. nearly.

when the guard shoves him into another room, loki takes a second to examine the exits, barely noticing the man at the desk. the person next to him pushes him further, dropping the tesseract and various stolen pym particles on the desk. loki takes note of where the man puts them so he can steal them back.

the guard stops with him in front of a small elevator, pulling a lever and waiting. loki looks at them, “where am i? get me back right now, i have things i must attend to.” the guard only looks at him, and loki scoffs, “i am loki of asgard, god of mischief and trickery, believe me when i say there will be deadly consequences if you do not do what i ask.”

the guard huffs a small laugh, “i’ve heard that before. we’ll see.”

the doors in front of him part, opening to a room he’s rammed into. he looks back the guard, one foot already out when he’s suddenly back where he was, watching as the entrance closes. he senses the machine before he can have a good look at it, a claw that he’s seen too many variations of beginning to poke at the fabric on his shoulders. he swats it away, standing tall as he glares at the smiling machine. “absolutely not! this is high tech armor, only few of this exists.”

the tech on the machine turns the grin into a frown, pulling back the talons and instead extending another apparatus that scans at his clothing, removing them with a yellow glow until he’s completely bare. he looks down at himself before looking back up at the face, pointing a finger, “now what-”

his words are cut off when he falls through the opening ground, falling onto the bottom room, now dressed in an uncomfortable tan jumpsuit, orange letters reading TVA on the left breast. a bored man in front of him pushes a pile of papers to him, “please sign to verify this is everything you’ve ever said.”

loki ignores his words, pushing it back, “i need to find someone, stop the absurdity.” the man only blinks as a machine whirrs, printing a piece of paper he reaches over to take and place on top of the pile. he hands loki a pen, “sign that too.” loki frowns, “did you not hear me? i have important things to do.” the machine does it again, and the man repeats his motions and shakes the pen in his hand. “that, too.” the god only sighs in frustration and signs, slamming the pen down before he’s dropped again.

another man greets him in a monotone, not even looking at him while he reads off the clipboard in his hands, “please confirm to your knowledge that you are not a fully robotic being, were born an organic creature, and do in fact possess what many cultures would call a soul.” loki’s eyebrows furrow, “i’m not a robot- how many people don’t know?”

“thank you for confirming, move through,” he requests. loki glances at the machine in front of him before stepping through it, a small picture printing after he’s on the other side. loki catches vibrant orange and red with hints of green that overcome any other color. “through the door, please.”

-

he encounters the same guard from before with a frustrated glare, leading him to what looks like a courtroom, a woman sitting in the middle, reading off a file. “variant L4293, aka loki laufeyson-l/n, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. how do you plead?” loki tilts his head at her, “madam, a god- i don’t plead.”

the woman sighs tiredly, “are you guilty or not guilty?” loki’s eyes thin as he observes her. “guilty of… trying to find my wife, yes. guilty of being extremely frustrated, yes. guilty of whatever it is you’re accusing me of, no. not guilty.” loki’s hand curls, trying to use his abilities inconspicuously but dismayed to not be able to. he tries again, only to come up empty as he realizes what is happening. “magic powers are no good in the tva, mister laufeyson,” the judge says absentmindedly. “i prefer l/n,” loki diverts simply, unknowingly catching the attention of one of the attendees. the judge barely acknowledges him, about to say something else before a man jumps up, hand raised, “wait, wait- uh, i have something to add to this. before the court makes a decision.”

the judge tilts her head at the man, pursing her lips before sighing and letting him approach the bench. loki leans in to try to understand the whispers that are exchanged, ending in the judge sending one last look his way before letting him go. “the court finds you innocent- and under agent mobius’ responsibility,” she clarifies, looking at the man and watching him nod quickly. she slams her gavel and motions for the man- mobius, he assumes, to take loki. he stands and awkwardly bows, before going over to loki and raising an eyebrow, “don’t betray me,” he says, words too true to be something playful. loki’s head tilts to the side in slight confusion, watching as the man begins to walk, pausing to urge loki to follow him.

loki ignores the activity through the windows of the hall, choosing to concentrate on mobius. “why did you do that?” he wonders aloud, suspicious eyes following him as his head peeks into halls. “let’s just say it’s a favor, although you’ll be on thin ice forever.”

“favor for whom?” mobius doesn’t answer, turning a corner. loki exhales sharply before following him, continuing to pry as he briefly heeds his surroundings. the sight of a woman in a suit much like mobius’ catches his eye, her back to him but he recognizes the shape of her shoulder and the color of her hair. he looks away, pretending to concentrate on the clock thing on the television but actually chasing the overfamiliar features to a face.

the sound of your voice- something he hasn’t heard in an obscenely long time- craved for so much longer it seems like a lifetime, snaps his attention to what surely must be a cruel joke. he can tell it’s you now. you’re standing there, head tilted at the same receptionist man and chuckling exasperatedly, “come on, casey, we’ve been over this. a fish and a lion are not the same thing-”

“but a lionfish-?” casey asks, and loki is pushing away the guards already, because you’re there, you’re solid and laughing like you used to and you can’t not be real. he can distantly hear mobius’ voice telling the guards to let him go as if loki hasn’t already taken care of that, walking over to you with quick and quiet footsteps. his fingers circle around your wrist first as an assurance, and when you turn, hand still in his, eyes widening when you notice who he is, he pulls you into him completely. your arms wrap around him barely seconds later, finally registering the person in front of you as you squeeze him. “loki?” you whisper, inhaling the same familiar scent of him that you haven’t had in what seems like forever.

“i missed you so much,” he says, hands wandering over your back, touching your arms and your shoulders and your hips just to touch you. “me too- i didn’t- i thought i would never see you again.” your tears are falling on the fabric of his jumpsuit, small tearful gasps escaping your lips while you tug him as close as you can, tangling your fingers in his hair and shutting your eyes at the familiar feeling. “oh god, you’re here-”

“i missed you so much,” he repeats, and you finally notice his words, realization like electricity, making you tremble and sigh softly. “what does that mean?” you question, already fearing the answer and already knowing the effects: the mess of his usually kept hair and the red tint of his eyes, like a sheen of sadness that stains the color of the eyes you have missed for so long. loki pulls away from you only to look at your face, trace the shape of the lips he’d spent hours of the morning pressing kisses to, memorize the curve of the nose you’d scrunch in a laugh when thor was a victim to one of his tricks.

“i have been looking for you, darling,” he murmurs, fingers running over your fallen tears while you notice the shine of his eyes, the tears that enhance the love he has for you. “because i’m…” you don’t want to finish your sentence, and you can tell loki doesn’t want you to either; he scans your features, small smile peeking through the shock and grief.

“i didn’t… mobius didn’t show me that, i thought-” your eyes flicker to the man before settling back on loki, the weight of the ring he’d given you feeling lighter now that it had found its pair. the various eyes on you don’t go unnoticed, and neither does the look mobius sends to the rest of the workers, indicating for them to go back to work. the cold of loki’s skin is comforting to the touch of your warmth, and you find yourself back in the summer afternoons where you would settle with your husband to read books, rubbing cool fingers on the hot of your skin when you felt suffocated by the heat of the sun.

another tear slips from your eyes when you realize you don’t have to imagine anymore, there’s no need to search for your memories and shut your eyes for them to run over you. your lips are on his when you can’t help it anymore, eyes squeezed close and salty tears dropping from your chin when it finally settles that he’s here and he’s yours and he’ll never be gone again.

he’ll make sure of that.

[monamourbladie-mb]

19 Years Later... [Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader x reader miniseries]

19 years have passed since Y/n’s husband Anakin’s death, and she has become the leading General of the newly founded Rebellion alongside her past Jedi friend Obi-Wan Kenobi, now known as Ben Kenobi. When her children Luke and Leia Skywalker gets kidnapped by Darth Vader, the man who killed her husband; her and Obi-Wan Kenobi must come rescue her. But when she finds out who’s behind Darth Vader’s mask, the truth is something she never thought she had to prepare herself for.

——————

i’m so freaking excited for this fanfic, holy shit. i’ve had this idea since April 2020 and i decided to say fuck it since you guys seemed interested. i hope you enjoy it!!! get ready for an angst and sex train, cause it’s coming in hot 🥵 😏

Index:

prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 [Coming soon]

Warnings: None

WC: 1.3k

——————

People say love is a forever thing. But for Y/n and Anakin Skywalker, their time together was cut short the day Darth Vader murdered Anakin almost 20 years ago on Mustafar.

Y/n remembered the day so vividly - it was the scariest, saddest, and all the same happiest day of her life. It was the day her twin children, Luke and Leia Skywalker, were born; and it was also the day the love of her life was killed.

Y/n didn’t remember much of that, between the two events. According to Obi-Wan Kenobi, he had said that Anakin was behind the attacks at the Jedi Temple, and the man behind the murder of countless Jedi. Y/n couldn’t bring herself that the man she was married to could do such a horrible, despicable act.

She didn’t believe it until she saw first hand his anger - the way his voice changed, how cold his gaze had become. He tried to sugarcoat his villainous words to her, speaking gently, “Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me.”

But when he had noticed Obi-Wan was on the ship alongside Y/n, Anakin lost all sense of reality and tried killing her.

The last memory she had of seeing her future husband was tainted with fear - the sight of him angrily raising his fingers to choke his lover.

When she awoke, she felt her body give in and start to writhe from excruciating labor pains. The pain she felt throughout her back and belly, however, were nothing in comparison to the never-ending ache in her heart that started when Obi-Wan muttered the words, “Anakin is dead.”

Barely able to cling to life, Y/n was able to deliver two healthy children, whom she had named Luke and Leia. Obi held her hand gently, smiling testy eyed, “Anakin would be so happy to see his little family. I promise I’m here to support and protect the three of you.”

Tears from pain and sorrow streamed down her cheeks as she cradled Leia close to her breast, sobbing as her body shook.

He should be here. I should be squeezing his hand, not Obi’s. He should be holding his son, not Obi. I shouldn’t be a widow.

When she found out the truth about how Anakin died, she was even more torn apart. Anakin didn’t even get a chance to explain his actions at the Temple - he was murdered by a man named Darth Vader before he could repent. She lost her husband to a murderous sith lord.

Obi-Wan took it upon himself to take care of Y/n, Luke, and Leia and got them a home on Tattooine. He knew that Y/n was never good on her own - even though she was a Jedi, she hated being alone. So he stayed with them, helping her raise Luke and Leia with just the two of them.

Knowing they were a target from Darth Vader, Obi-Wan knew that they’d had to change their names. He changed his to Ben Kenobi, a nickname an old lover gave him; and Y/n changed her name to Cecelia Jonas, a drastic difference from Y/n Skywalker. When it was just them, they would refer to each other as their old names for old time’s sake.

Raising twins without their biological father was very, very hard. There were many nights Luke or Leia would ask about their beloved late father, causing her to get teary-eyed remembering.

Nights when Luke would play around with the droids, speaking with C3-PO and laughing reminded Obi and Y/n of Anakin.

Having a son who looked just like a young version of Anakin was no help to her healing heart. Yet, no matter what she swore to never remarry — her heart belonged to Anakin Skywalker, and Anakin Skywalker alone.

By now, it was 19 years since Anakin had died. The Galactic Empire was rising, and the Rebels rose in contradiction, hoping to defend the Galaxy.

Meanwhile, Darth Vader stormed around his Death Star ship in an angry stance, slicing anyone who dared to comment on his more-so than normal angry aura.

He crossed his arms, looking outside the Death Star, “What do you mean you lost the plans?” His breathing labored and heavy as usual. The mask wasn’t even needed for him — the cocky bastard just wanted to come off as more intimidating.

“Someone... someone had sold the plans. And now General Jonas-“

Vader grunted and raised his fist, beginning to force choke the man mercilessly, “Find me who sold the plans and bring them to me. I want their death slow and painful. And find me General Jonas, I want to have a chat with them.”

The man’s eye’s rolled back as his vision blackened, then he collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air.

Vader strutted off, his signature Skywalker strut all the more prominent and powerful enveloped in his robotic suit of armor.

Ever since his fall, Vader had one thing on his mind. Completing out his Master’s will so he would finally teach him how to bring people back from the dead.

Vader reached his quarters and shut the door, locking it using the force with a simple flick of his wrist. He begrudgingly walked to the bathroom, slamming the door shut and hunched over the sink, his breathing getting more rapid until the noise irritated him to let out a yell in anger.

He took off his black mask in frustration and slammed it down on the countertop, his hands gripping it’s sides so tightly he felt his flesh hand feel numb. He looked up in the mirror, his ear-length brown hair dampened down with sweat as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“Who the hell even are you,” he grumbled to himself, running his gloved fingers through his hair. He sighed heavily and shook his head, the memory of her gasping for air replaying in his mind as his anger grew, “It’s my fault. It’s my fucking fault you and our child are dead!” he yelled to no in but himself, tears beginning to prick his yellow eyes.

With shaky hands, he dipped into his pocket and took out the necklace he crafted for her all those years ago, smiling sadly down at it as he rubbed it with his thumb.

“This is all for you, my love bird. All of it, so I can bring you home to me.” His voice trailed as he kissed the necklace, putting it back in his pocket gently as he let out a heavy sigh, wiping his tears quickly.

Vader thrived on pain now. Once he found out his wife was killed by his own hand, he lost all sense of himself. Anakin died when he knelt and took Darth Vader’s name, but Anakin truly died the moment Palpatine uttered those words.

“It seems, in your anger, you killed her.”

“Shit husband I was,” he growled, putting his glove back up on his flesh hand after he glared at his wedding band.

It gave him a mixed feeling - he missed his wife dearly, but yet it was also a deadly reminder how much of a horrible man he was.

The separated couple went to bed in tears that night, wishing and praying that somehow, someway they could be reunited.

But the both of them knew the only way that would happen is if they died, which was out of the question.

So they laid there awake in agony, their heart crying out to be reunited with their lover once more.

[high-supernatural]

Memories

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault hints, crying, soft kai, a lil boob touching, Stephan drives her off a bridge

Summary: She finds out the real story of what happened to her after a near-death experience. Kai agrees to comfort her in her own way.

(I wrote this with “she/her” instead of “V” because this is the last part I’ll be writing as a series, the rest will be written as one shot’s with she/her pronouns because if I continue to work on the series it’ll become an entire novel. So instead of writing a novel, I’ll just write the big plot points as one shots after this)

Another couple of weeks had passed since their ritual. Almost every day that would pass, they would go out and look for answers for what they saw and would come up empty handed.

One day they finally found something that could lead them to another lead for answers – an ancient necklace that was owned by a witch in her distant bloodline that could allow her to connect with the original owner. The only problem was that the necklace was worn religiously around Elena’s neck as a gift from Stephan.

That wasn’t really a problem for her. She didn’t really like Elena much, and Elena didn’t like her, but it wasn’t hard to get close enough to grab it since they both hung out with the same people.

That’s exactly what she did. She kept it with her for a week, waiting for a specific celestial event to happen for the spell all while dodging calls from Stephan and Elena accusing her of taking it.

She took to the woods by herself on the night before the celestial event to find the perfect spot under the moon to preform it. Just as she was about to make her way off the trail she was struck by a tranquilizing dart in her neck, knocking her out cold.

She woke up in the passenger seat of Stephan’s car, “oh, good, you’re up,” he said shutting his phone off.

Her vision was blurry, but she knew who it was and was annoyed to say the least.

“Have you seen Elena’s necklace?” He asked as if he already knew.

She blinked to focus her vision, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rubbed her eyes.

Stephan leaned in, “here’s what’s gonna happen… you’re either going to tell me where it is, hand it over, or I’m going to hold you here until you do.”

“You’re really about to do all this for a damn necklace?” she asked, still very annoyed.

They went back and forth for a while about how it’s “Elena’s necklace,” and how crazy Stephan was to host a hostage situation over it before he turned the car on, “ok, you don’t wanna tell me where it is, fine,” he slammed on the gas, “you’ve been a cosmic pain in everyone’s ass since you showed up in Mystic Falls by the way. We’re trying to rid the town of chaos and mischief and here you come…”

Stephan was driving at what seemed to be over 100 miles an hour with a crazy look in his eye, “so nobody wants to tell me where it is, I’ll drive you off the bridge and find it myself,” he spat.

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t drive someone off a bridge over a damn necklace, Stephan, plus if I do have it, you’d be losing your chance to get it back if you do,” she said unphased by his threat.

“That’s only if nobody wants to tell me. It’s really no sweat off my back if you live or die but… hey maybe Kai knows where it is,” he said as if he had just thought of the most iconic solution and dialed Kai’s phone.

As they approached the bridge, she began to take his threat more seriously. All she heard was muffled noises as adrenaline of being driven off a bridge kicked in.

She yelled panicked knowing Kai was on the phone, “Kai just tell him where the stupid necklace is he’s gonna drive me off the bridge.”

“Too late,” Stephan muttered with a smirk as the car flew into the water after he jumped out.

She tried to roll her window down before the car hit the water and was fully submerged, but Stephan had the window locks on, so she had to crawl over to the driver’s side to roll it down, throwing her against the wind shield and knocking her unconscious again as she got the window halfway down.

Just like the time she held her breath and an unknown entity came over her when she rescued Enzo, the same thing happened here. While she was unconscious the car fully submerged into the water for minutes until the entity awoke her and struggled to break the window open through the slowness of the water.

She remembered none of this. She awoke on the rocks only remembering being driven off the bridge and a replay of the things that had happened to her that Kai made her forget.

She sat there coughing up water and trying to catch her breath as the replays engrained themselves deeper. She knew she couldn’t deal with it right now though, she needed to get back to the motel for the necklace, so she started walking her way back to the road.

She walked expressionless until Kai drove up beside her and got out,

“What happened,” he asked throwing his hands up as he walked towards her.

“I don’t know, Stephan threw a fit about the necklace and thought it was reasonable to drive me and his car off the bridge,” she said silent and expressionless, darting her eyes not to look into Kai’s.

Kai looked at her, realizing that for the first time in probably forever, he was pissed about something because it had happened to somebody he cares about, but he still didn’t know what to say other than, “well, are you okay,” silently kicking himself for asking after he realized how big what happened was compared to the question he asked.

“Yeah, I just wanna get back,” she mumbled and went to open the door, but Kai grabbed it quicker.

She was silent the whole way back, something that was unusual for her normally.

They drove into the parking lot of their motel and Kai stopped her before she could open the door by grabbing her arm, “hey, are you good,” he asked, “you didn’t say anything the entire way back and you love to talk.”

She was still expressionless, “I’m good, I just need a minute,” her voice was almost robotic.

“Talk to me…” Kai tried to speak but was cut off.

“I’m about to freak out, and it’s not gonna be cute,” she spoke with a little more seriousness to her robotic tone, “so just give me a minute,” she began to walk towards their room.

He had never seen her like this before. They would usually make jokes the whole night whenever something that would typically be traumatic happened, but this time she seemed as though she was here physically but elsewhere mentally.

She made a beeline to the bathroom before Kai called out “let me know if I can do any—” she shut the door, “—thing.”

She stood at the sink and placed her hands on it to steady her balance as things began to look blurry and lightheaded. She tried rubbing her eyes to make the feeling go away but it kept getting stronger as her chest felt heavier, head felt heavier, and memories of that night months before screamed at her.

Kai leaned on the doorframe to hear what was going on but couldn’t hear anything.

She stood, taking deep breaths before it got increasingly harder to breath and gave into the onset hyperventilation and inevitable tears.

Kai knocked but she didn’t answer so he opened the door to find her with her hands in her hair, breathing fast, with a concerned expression.

She didn’t even hear him walk in at first until she felt a presence behind her as he went to touch her arm. She sat on her knees slowly before Kai could touch her, “Kai I can’t breathe,” he sat on his knees in front of her and put his hand on her head, unsure of what to say.

Grabbing his wrist to pull his hand into her lap, gripping it tightly she put her other hand on her chest and coughed, “I can’t breathe…. Why can’t I breathe…” she let the tears fall before placing her arms over her head and leaned forward until she was leaning against her elbows on the floor so she could catch her breath without having Kai see her cry.

Kai gripped her shoulders and pushed her up to look at him. She covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to return back to the position he moved her from before he stopped her by keeping his hands on her shoulders, “tell me what happened,” he spoke softly, gently removing the hand she had over her mouth.

“I remembered everything—” she sobbed harder and put her hand back over her mouth, leaning into Kai, “tell me it didn’t really happen,” she sobbed.

Kai knew what she was talking about now and pulled her to lean against the wall with her head on his chest as she sobbed more.

“Tell me I’m making stuff up, or that Stephan has sick humor, tell me someth—” she couldn’t finish her sentence before burying her face back into Kai.

He stared at the wall in front of him as if he could feel what she was feeling, “I can’t,” he whispered, causing her sobs to get louder,

“That couldn’t have happened… I wouldn’t have let that happen… it couldn’t have been me, maybe I just witnessed—”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her as she hid her face in her hands on his chest, “it did, V… I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you different… I’m sorry…” he had a look of remorse as she moved her hand to her scalp as if to cover her ears from what he was saying and placed his hand in her hair with her.

“I gave you different memories, I didn’t want you to remember but something must have triggered it earlier…” he spoke fast and buried his forehead onto the top of her head when she kept sobbing harder, “I should’ve been there…”

“What do you need me to do? Tell me and I’ll do it, anything… let me make it better,” he rubbed his hand on her back to comfort her, but she was too lost in her mind to notice, “you can’t make it better,” she cried.

He sat with her and let her cry until she couldn’t anymore before taking her to their bed.

She pulled his arm as she laid down or else, he wouldn’t have know if he should lay beside her or not. This whole situation was completely new to him, and he only wanted to make it better but had no idea how.

She laid on her side and pulled his arm around her for comfort.

Kai buried his face in her hair by her ear, “what can I do?” he asked again.

“Make me feel something else…” she teared up again.

“What do you mean?” he whispered and rubbed his hand on her upper arm.

“All I can feel is their hands on me and I cant get rid of it,” she choked up, “so maybe if I feel yours instead—” she placed her hand over her face to avoid crying again.

“shh… it’s okay,” Kai whispered surprisingly sweet and kissed her hair, “where do you want ‘em?”

She lifted herself up to place an arm under her neck, laying her head in the crease of his arm and slid the other to her chest.

She fell asleep as Kai gently rubbed from her chest to her stomach repeatedly, occasionally kissing her hair in between.

[crayonwriting]

The Sakusa House

(gif credits)

series masterlist

"Hello!" "Hello!" The producer greeted. "What's your name?" "Kiyoshi!" He said cheerfully, fidgeting around the chair he was sat in. "And, how old are you Kiyoshi?" He raised the corresponding number of fingers and showed it to them. "Three!" "Oh wow, and can you tell as what is your dad's name?" "Sakusa Kiyoomi." He slid down the chair and started dragging it around, but he was still paying attention to the interviewer. "Do you like your dad?" "No." This made everyone present on the set chuckle a bit. "Really? Why not?" "I don't like him." Kioshi said this with a soft smile on his face. The interviewer continued to ask him questions. "What's your mom's name?" "Sakusa Y/N." "And do you like your mom?" "Yes!" He cheered and clapped happily. ** "I ate everything by myself instead of sharing and now I have a stomachache." You wiggled the stuffed rabbit at Kiyoshi while he was busy choosing which instrument he'll use in the toy doctor's kit you gifted him. You both were sat in his bedroom and since it was your day off before you had to leave, you decided to play with your son as much as you can. "Blow your nose." Kiyoshi said, reaching for the rabbit. You pulled it away from him. "I have a tummy ache. Why would I blow my nose?" You shifted the toy further away from him. "I don't have a runny nose." Kiyoshi stood up and pulled at your arm, successfully grabbing the stuffed animal. He cradled it in his arms and wiped around its nose. "It will feel good if you blow your nose." He mumbled softly to his 'patient' and you couldn't help but giggle, remembering that you told him those exact same words when he was sick. ** You were a medical professional, specializing in home medicine. You have been on some TV shows and news interviews that you weren't fazed that much by the cameras now installed at various parts of your house. You smiled at the interviewer when she shuffled through her notes of questions. "So, how did you meet your husband?" "Well, he was introduced to me by a friend, who happened to be teammates with his cousin." You smiled at the memory. "They just told me that he was tall and handsome,"you blushed at this, "And that he was a volleyball player too. My friend, Rintarou, is also a volleyball player." You remembered how Suna and Komori were so eager to have you and Sakusa meet, saying that since he was cautious of germs and you were on the medical field, it'd be a perfect match. "On the way to the bar where we were all supposed to meet at, they kept asking me if I didn't have any clue about him." Crossing your arms on your chest and leaning back on the chair, you recalled the conversation that night. "I really had no idea. He said that he was one of the top aces in Japan during highschool, but I wasn't into the sport at that time." Everything was actually a blur after that. You hit it off with him on that night once Komori broke the ice between you two. Before you knew it, you were already dating the Sakusa Kiyoomi. You weren't aware that he was a sought-after bachelor like his teammates at MSBY, that's why everyone was shocked when the news broke out that his heart was already taken. You dated for five years before finally getting married. And just a year later, Kiyoshi was born and there was nothing else Sakusa could ever ask for. ** "Are you sick, auntie?" Kiyoshi asked the camerawoman who was settled in the tiny house the production team set up in your living room. He leaned in closer to ask if she was sick, which she answered with an, 'I'm okay.' Kiyoshi dragged his doctor's kit around as he looked for patients. He kneeled down and stared at his toy dinosaur and asked if it was sick. Not getting any response, he moved to the other tiny house in the corner of the room where a cameraman was filming him. "Uncle, are you sick?" "No, I'm okay." "Are you sick here?" He gestured to his throat repeatedly. The cameraman chuckled and told Kiyoshi that he was fine. You were sat in the middle of the living room floor, just smiling to

yourself as you watched your son. He was petting his toy dinosaurs that were scattered around the floor. His mood suddenly turned down a bit and you wondered what was wrong. Kiyoshi looked around the room and saw his snake pillow by the mat. He lay himself beside it and hugged the pillow to his body. "Papa!" He shouted randomly. You smiled and ruffled his hair. "Where's papa, Kiyoshi? He's not home?" Just as you said this, your phone rang from the kitchen table. When you saw the caller ID, your heart skipped a little. "Hi Omi-kun." You put the phone on speaker. "Kiyoshi, it's papa." At the mention of his father, he immediately perked up and ran where you were. He raised his arms up, reaching for your phone. You handed it to him carefully. "Tell your papa to come home." You encouraged. "Kiyoshi." Sakusa said. "I don't like Papa." Your son said this with a cheerful voice. "I don't like you." "You what?" "He doesn't like you." You answered for him. You pulled Kiyoshi to sit on the couch. "You don't like me?" Sakusa's heart cracked a little, but he knew his son wasn't serious about it. "I don't like yoooou!" The three year old repeatedly sang. You shook your head at his playful antics. Kiyoomi's attitude was far from this and you wondered if you were as wild as Kiyoshi was when you were his age. "Don't say that Kiyoshi." Brushing his wavy hair away from his face, you said, "Why don't you ask papa to bring you something, hm? What do you want to eat?" Suddenly feeling playful once more, Kiyoshi ran away with your phone in hand. You chased him with small steps, asking him to slow down since he was running 'too fast'. He squealed and laughed waiting for you to catch him. "Gotcha'!" He laughed louder when you cornered him and tickled his sides. Sakusa, who was still on the phone, heard the precious laughs of his wife and son and the urge to get back home as soon as possible grew stronger. ** "Is there a reason why you decided to be on the show?" Sakusa cleared his throat before answering. "The main reason is that I want to be closer to my son, Kiyoshi." "What kind of dad are you?" Sakusa took a second to answer that, before he smiled to himself. "To be honest, I am a low priority to my child." He chuckled softly. "He loves his mom the most. And at one time, I noticed how big he was growing. Time passed by so fast and I felt like I'd wasted it." To others, three years may seem like a short time but for him, it felt like he had been absent for forever. "I felt...really bad about that. I can't call myself a good dad yet." He was fiddlimg with his fingers on his lap, before looking back at the interviewer. "I really want to get closer to him." The crew were visibly in awe at Sakusa's endearing love for his son. This was one of the rare times Sakusa really made an effort to answer questions in an interview. Who knew the stoic Sakusa Kiyoomi was a big softie? "How will you describe Kiyoshi?" "He's very cheeky." Sakusa chuckled. "He always stops and greets the people he sees and he'd wait until they greet him back. He's also cheerful and I'd like to think he's smart." He nodded at the thought. "He learns words very easily." ** The front door opened and Sakusa felt relief wash over him as he was welcomed by the familiar warmth of his home. He removed his mask and proceeded to take off his shoes by the genkan. "Papa! Papa are you hurt?" "Hm?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "What was that? "Are you hurt?" Kiyoshi asked eagerly, bouncing on his feet. "He's been waiting to examine you all day." You smiled at your husband. You approached him and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, making yourself blush a little. Sakusa smiled at you and handed the take out you requested. You took it gratefully, heading over to the kitchen to prepare dinner. "Papa, are you hurt?" Kiyoshi asked once more, this time with his doctor's kit in hand. "Will you treat me?" Sakusa asked, sitting down the first step of the stairs. "Please treat me. My head hurts." Kiyoshi rushed to open his

kit and got the plastic stethoscope out. He carefully put it on and approached his father. Sakusa held his small body to steady him as Kiyoshi started on the examination. "My chest hurts as well." His father feigned a pained expression—as best as he could—when Kiyoshi pressed the end of his stethoscope to Sakusa's chest. Sakusa let out faux groans which sounded robotic but Kiyoshi didn't notice. He rushed back to his kit and pulled put the plastic injection. "Papa, has a cough too. I should give you a shot." Sakusa let out a fake cough as well and when his son pressed the toy to his arm he faked another gasp. "Ouch." He said, blunt as ever. "That hurt." His son just laughed and rummaged through his kit once more, pulling out a knife. "We need to take out your snot, too." "What?" Sakusa stiffened. Kiyoshi rushed back to him with the toy knife pointed towards his dad and Sakusa stopped him right there. "What are you going to do with that knife?" "Snot!" "What?" He laughed lightly, still pushing his son away as Kiyoshi kept trying to shove the knife into his father's nose. "He did that with his other patients." You interrupted from the kitchen; Sakusa looked at you. "He's gonna take your snot out." You giggled at the slight horror on his face. He was a lot less wary of germs when he was home but still, he was cautious about everything he touches—and in this case, what goes in and out of his nose. "Papaaaaa!" Kiyoshi whined. In a spur of the moment, Sakusa held his son's arm and guided the small toy near his nose. He let it graze the inside in the very slightest and he hoped his son was satisfied with it. "Kiyoshi, papa doesn't want you to do...that." Looking up from your preparations once more, you witnessed Sakusa letting his son pick his nose. The laugh you let out was unintentional, but you found it heartwarming to see your husband stepping out of his comfort zone, just to please his son. "Do you remove your snot with a knife?" He asked Kiyoshi, to which he nodded proudly. "How does it feel?" You teasingly asked your husband. Before he could answer, Kiyoshi said, 'It feels nice!', in a cheerful voice. He was going through the kit again. "Maybe, I should take your snot out too, huh Kiyoshi?" Sakusa teased. The young boy ignored his father's remarks, standing back up to give his father a bottle with a picture of a capsule on it. This time he started shoving the bottle to his father's mouth but Sakusa was quick to lean away. He held Kiyoshi's hand that was holding the bottle near his face, opening and closing his mouth briefly as if taking the medication. Kiyoshi's face broke out into a huge grin, knowing that he had cured his father. Sakusa held his son's face in his hands and kissed his forehead. "Thank you." He muttered, making Kiyoshi beam. "Get cleaned up, it's dinner time." You chimed. Kiyoshi hurriedly shoved his toys back into the doctor's kit; the prospect of eating dinner making him excited. Sakusa offered to help him pack up, only to get hit on the leg as Kiyoshi spun around. - - - It was now bedtime and Sakusa was checking the doors and windows. He turned off the kitchen and living room lights and headed towards Kiyoshi's room, where you and your son were already settled. You and your husband decided to sleep all together for one night seeing as you'll be gone for a while. He sat himself on the futon on the floor while you were snuggled up with Kiyoshi on his bed. "Kiyoshi." The little boy sat up at his father's voice. "Who do you want to sleep with? Is it Bunny?" Sakusa was referring to the little boy's favorite stuffed animal. Kioshi thought for a bit before answering. "Mama should sleep with Kiyoshi." You stiffled a giggle. "Papa should sleep there." He leaned over slightly and pointed to the futon Sakusa was already settled at. "I should sleep on the floor?" "Yes." Sakusa expected this and just shook his head. He never really was his son's priority. You stared at him to get his attention, silently asking him if he was okay. He answered with a soft

smile and a nod. You laid on the open edge of Kiyoshi's bed so that he wouldn't roll over to the floor. You extended your hand to your husbnad which he took gratefully. He lifted it up to his lips and gave it a delicate kiss. Your spine tingled at the sensation of his lips on your skin. Kiyoshi then handed you a book to read and snuggled to your side. You kissed the top of his head and started reading to him. Sakusa then laid down on the soft futon on the floor and turned his body to the side, facing you two. Just like his son, he let the sound of your voice lull him to sleep. *** "Papa! Papa!" Sakusa groaned and willed himself to wake up at the sound of Kiyoshi's calling. "Papa, did you sleep well?" He asked, already energetic. The room was dark except for the small sliver of light that escaped the curtain on one side. Kiyoshi was bouncing on his bed, sprawling his body on top of yours, effectively waking you up. He was able to make out Kiyoshi's small figure despite the dark room. "Hmm, yes Kiyoshi. Did you sleep well?" He asked, voice deep and still laced with sleep. His son didn't answer the question as he hyperactively called out to him again. "Papa!" Sakusa hummed in acknowledgement. "Now that I'm awake, can I have fun?" "Of course." Sakusa replied sitting up from the futon and stretching. He looked at your rousing form as you rubbed the sleep oit of your eyes. It may be cliché to think but despite your disheveled look, you're still breathtaking to him. "Good morning, my love." He took your hand and gave the back of it a soft kiss, just like he did the night before. He had refused to give you morning kisses even from the very start of dating, saying that it was unhygienic. "Good morning, Omi." You kissed his hand as well. "Had a good sleep?" "Sort of." He said bluntly, making you giggle. "Our bed is still better than this futon. Why didn't we just let Kiyoshi sleep in our room?" "Omi, he needs to learn to sleep in his own room." You chastised him playfully. While the both of you conversed, Kiyoshi went around his room, greeting all of his stuffed animals that sat atop his drawers. "Good morning Mr Penguin! Good morning Ms. Penguin!" He gave each toy a pat on their heads. ** After folding up the futon and blankets and freshening up, Sakusa headed for the kitchen and started on making breakfast. He measured two cups of rice and started washing them under the faucet. It wasn't long before you and Kiyoshi followed after him. "Shall we see what your papa is doing?" You hoisted Kiyoshi further up your arms for a better grip. You tapped on Sakusa's back, silently telling him to switch positions with you. He wiped his wet hands on a kitchen towel nearby and held them both out to Kiyoshi. "Come to me." He said. Kiyoshi just look at his dad before vigorously shaking his head. "Play with papa now, Kiyoshi. Mama needs to make breakfast." You rubbed his back and tried to pass him off to Sakusa but to no avail. Kiyoshi's grip on your neck tightened as he stuck his body to yours. "Why won't you play with me?" Sakusa asked, while brushing Kiyoshi's hair away from his face. The little boy looked away from his father. "I don't want to play with you." Kiyoshi mumbled into your shoulder. You tried setting him down on the kitchen floor but he just lifted his feet higher so as to not touch the floor. He let himself dangle from your neck until you gave up and stood up again. He whined in protest. Sakusa sighed and placed a hand on your lower back and whispered that it was okay. He didn't mind making his family some breakfast. "Are you sure?" You asked. He dismissed you with a small nod and a soft smile. He sighed quietly almost getting used to being little to no priority to Kiyoshi. You had told him before that it just takes a while and Kiyoshi was just three. Sakusa has all the time to change his son's mind, Kiyoshi saw how sad his papa looked when you started to walk away from the kitchen. He can't let his papa be sad and he wanted to comfort him. Like a switch, his earlier

distaste for his father was nowhere to be seen as he reached out to Sakusa. "Papa, hug me please?" He called out to him. You immediately set him down on his feet as he waited for Sakusa. Two big strides was all it took for Sakusa to reach his son and to scoop him in his arms. You couldn't help but smile at the interaction. "Show me your love, Papa." You giggled behind your hand as you noticed Sakusa's ears turning a slight tint of pink. You gave him a sly wink before walking back to the kitchen to continue the breakfast preparations. Sakusa couldn't help but blush at his son's words. To be honest, he wasn't really hiding it. He usually wasn't at the receiving end of Kiyoshi's affection. So during times that he is, he wouldn't care if he turned as red as a tomato. Kiyoshi rested his head on his father's strong shoulder, rubbing his hand on it far comfort. He remembers his parents rubbing his back during the times that he cried. So, he did it to Sakusa so that he wouldn't cry. Sakusa held the back of his son's head carefully, pressing a kiss to his temple. He swayed the both of them from side to side as they enjoyed the small yet intimate moment. ** "Open your mouth a little wider, Kiyoshi." He did as he was told but the scowl on his face remained while Sakusa helped him brush his teeth. Sakusa wanted his son to learn about hygiene and cleanliness at the youngest age so he hoped he was setting a good example. "Almost done." He stroked the brush gently in Kiyoshi's mouth before Sakusa declared that he was done. He rinsed out the small baby toothbrush before placing it back along with yours and his own. Kiyoshi was just about to step down from his step stool but Sakura was quick to stop him. "Let's wash your face first." He held Kiyoshi softly. Wetting his hand, he wiped and rubbed it down Kiyoshi's face as gentle as he could. He knew his hands weren't as soft as yours. After several years of playing volleyball, his hands were bound to be a little rough. It didn't seem to affect Kiyoshi in anyway. As Sakusa's hand ran down his face, he stuck his tongue out playfully. Everytime he would lick Sakusa's hand, he laughed to himself. Sakusa would flinch everytime his hand would make contact with Kiyoshi's tongue, only making the child laugh louder. ** During the time your boys were enjoying their moment together, you made breakfast. Egg omelettes, rice, fried salmon, miso soup, a serving of natto for Kiyoshi and Sakusa's favorite, umeboshi. "Itadakimasu!" Sakusa placed small servings of omelette and fish into Kiyoshi's bowl while you mixed his natto. Kiyoshi waited patiently as he took small bites off of the fish and eggs. When you were done, you scooped some natto and held it in front of your son. He opened wide and gratefully accepted the food. It was unusual for kids to like the traditional dish. But for some reason, Kiyoshi loved it. Sakusa took a bite of his umeboshi, savoring the taste. Ever since dating him, you've tried your best to make him homemade umeboshi and now that you've mastered it, it's the only umeboshi that he eats—even if you don't like the dish. "The soup is hot!" Kiyoshi stuck out his tongue. You offered him some water. Scooping up some miso soup with his spoon, you blew on it slightly to cool it down. "Here. I cooled it down for you." You fed him the soup which made Kiyoshi dance in his chair. "You're eating so well, Kiyoshi!" You said, ruffling his hair. As you continued to feed your son, Sakusa was enjoying the view. It always blew his mind how lucky he is to have you and Kiyoshi in his life. Having his own family was far from his thoughts when he was still in Itachiyama. But after meeting you, he found himself stepping out of his comfort zone—willingly—and he didn't regret any second of it. This only fueled him to do better for you and especially for Kiyoshi. ** "Papa, what are you doing?" Sakusa glanced at Kiyoshi who was in your arms once more, before returning to the task at hand. "Are you washing my dishes?" "Yes, I am washing your dishes."

Sakusa's response only made Kiyoshi laugh. You played with Kiyoshi in the living room while Sakusa cleaned up after breakfast. He turned down your offer to help, saying that you can go ahead and play with Kiyoshi. Besides, he found it relaxing to do a little bit of chores especially when it's cleaning. When Sakusa was done with the dishes, he started wiping down the table and kitchen counters. After that he cleaned the dining room floor, especially under Kiyoshi's chair where grains of rice and soup stains littered the floor. As the floor was taken care of, he gathered all the trash and took it outside to the bins. Meanwhile, you went upstairs and started getting ready for your small trip with your sister. You asked Kiyoshi if he can help his father which he happily answered with a 'yes!' Kiyoshi actually just stood near Sakusa and watched him clean. Almost twenty minutes had passed before you came down the stairs, fully dressed and carrying two bags. "Kiyoshi, I'll be going out now." Sakusa and Kiyoshi were playing with his dinosaurs when you got down. You weren't even gone that long and the two of them are already getting close. Sakusa picked up Kiyoshi and walked towards you. You leaned up a little and placed a big kiss on his cheek. "Play well with dad, okay?" He nodded as he clung to his father's neck. "Bye Mama." You smiled. You looked at Sakusa who was looking at Kiyoshi witha soft smile on his face. "Good luck, Omi." You whispered. He turned his gaze to you, eyes widened in the slightest at the meaning behind your words. The worry of taking care of his child who doesn't like him is starting to creep its way into Sakusa's consciousness. Laughing, you leaned on your toes and kissed his lips quickly. "You can do it." You rubbed your thumb on his forehead to remove the slight furrow of his eyebrows, which were bent in uneasiness. "You can do it." Kiyoshi repeated, laying his head on Sakusa's shoulder. This made both of you laugh. "Have fun, Y/N." Sakusa smiled, "I will." You placed a hand om the wall, balancing yourself as you put om your shoes. Sakusa picked up your bags and handed them to you,. "Mama, have fun." Kiyoshi copied his father this time. When you looked at your son, you noticed that he had a sad look in his eyes. It was because he isn't used to being away from you for too long. "Kiyoshi, have fun with papa okay?" Kiyoshi nodded obediently, clinging closer to Sakusa's neck. "Okay. Don't worry about us." You waved at both off them before finally heading out the door. The house grew quiet. Sakusa looked at Kiyoshi who was still staring at the front door. "Mama is gone." Sakusa stated. Kiyoshi looked at his dad but didn't say anything. ** "Kiyoshi and I will become close," Sakusa nodded to the camera with a determined look om his face, "I know I'll do well."

—

A/N: Happy birthday, my Kiyoomi! 💛💚 (THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED ON SATURDAY. TUMBLR WHYYYYY)

03.18.2021

[a-whale-bone]

For the ao3 asks: all of them or as many as you can! Questions 4/5/6: There is no love manual for robots. For 18/19/20: Heart/Gear. For 21/22/24: Essential Maintenance. For 27/29/47: while(true).

Thank you for indulging me! I've answered p much everything except the questions about music because I don't really associate writing and music and can't answer them...

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Either "Episodic Memory" which is kind of a distillation of All The Things I Like in droidshipping or my short series "Radio Heart" which feels like my quintessence Cassian/K2 stuff.

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

Robot/Human Relationships

Pining

Developing Relationship

Robot Sex

Food

The first four are… yep, that's it, that's me. I didn't realise I wrote about food enough to tag it that often, though!

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Robots, hurt/comfort, hand stuff, people fixing one another, hair stroking, a whole lot of earnestness. I also love an AU.

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

In "There is no love manual for robots" my favourite detail is probably when Cassian pushes Bodhi back against Kay to kiss him and Kay puts his arms round them both because he is SO BIG.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

Was there anything I wanted to include in "love manual" but didn't - and the answer there is yes! There was a scene between Bodhi and Chirrut, talking about Jedha and people they'd lost, and Chirrut tells him about how he and Baze have been together forever and Bodhi gets all wistful and how he'd like to have something like that. Chirrut, ofc, already knows something is up and gives him some cryptic, well-meaning and probably unhelpful advice.

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

In "Love manual" Bodhi and Chirrut briefly talk about the Force and whether droids are alive enough for the Force to be a thing for them, and I am here to tell you that yes it is.

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

Worldbuilding is probably one of my weaker points, but I am proud of the worldbuilding in my robot orchestra origfic Electric Sonata, especially the stuff about music by and for androids being different from music by and for humans. I had a lot of fun working on that fic.

9. How do you find new fic to read?

With difficulty! I track pairing tags on AO3, and browse recent exchanges, but otherwise I only really find things if someone recs them to me.

10. How do you decide what to write?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ usually if something won't leave my brain I'll write it to get it out. Then it's a mixture of inspiration, deadlines, or guilt.

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is?

I wish I were more equal opportunity! But I latch onto particular pairings or characters like a little gremlin and that's pretty much that. My current favourite ships are Cassian/K2 and Bodhi/K2. The robot/human angle works for me, there's elements of loyalty kink and competence kink that work for both ships, and lots of opportunities for hurt/comfort and two people who are very different and messed up finding something together.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

AUs! Years ago I used to only read canon-verse stuff, but I absolutely love AUs now.

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

Soulmates. I would read it for my ships still, but I don't really like predestination for a romantic relationship much now.

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer?

Recovery from non-con / abuse. Amazing in the right hands, but very easy to do in a way that wouldn't work for me.

15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written?

I'm going to discount Everybody Lives AUs because they barely even feel like AUs in Rogue One fandom, lol. It's got to be "darkness, moonrise", my His Dark Materials AU. I love HDM, and figuring out how to blend that world (and not just daemons) with Rogue One was so much fun. And I got attached to everyone's daemons.

16. What’s an AU you would love to read (or have read and loved)?

I kind of want a mundane Rogue One AU that still keeps the plot? Like sure it's a coffee shop, but also they need to steal the blueprints for the Big Evil Not-Starbucks Coffeeshop that's going to put them out of business. K-2 is a belligerent sentient espresso machine.

For AUs I've loved: "1 Rogue Street" by @r0b0tb0y is an amazing haunted house AU (with bonus Midlands jokes), "Never So Human" is @bright-elen's fantastic Tam Lin AU, "Sparks" also by Bright Elen is a modern-ish AU where K2 is a dating app and he and Cassian fall in love, and "chaos, yet harmony" by @rain-sleet-snow is a canon divergence featuring one of my favourite f/f rarepairs Jyn/Ahsoka.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

I accidentally talked myself into shipping Bodhi and Kay while writing my His Dark Materials AU, because I sent them off together so the other ships could spend time together. So I want to write an Everybody Lives AU of my AU where they hook up. Will anyone read it? No. And yet I have a half-written fic I occasionally go back to.

18. If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it involve?

"Heart/Gear" is mostly angsty but the sequel would probably include Cassian and K figuring out a way to use Cassian's new spinal implants in a sexy way.

19. If you wrote a spin-off of [insert fic], what would it involve?

A "Heart/Gear" spin-off would be some kind of caper with Jyn, Bodhi, Baze and Chirrut trying to find and restore a KX chassis so K2 could be reuploaded. There are probably explosions.

20. If you wrote a prequel to [insert fic], what would it involve?

"Heart/Gear" would have a super angsty prequel of Cassian trying and failing to get by without Kay, all while pretending he's coping and the rest of Rogue One trying to help him while he refuses to be helped.

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in [insert fic], what would it be?

Well "Essential Maintenance" is a PWP and one scene so I don't know if it could have a missing scene, but perhaps another scene at the end where K2 and Bodhi go over all the exciting new data and that gets them going again because they are NERDS. (I deeply believe that K and Bodhi are nerds at heart.)

22. Who is your favorite character in [insert fic] and why?

Bodhi is my fave in "Essential Maintenance". I love top!Bodhi, and I like his pragmatic problem solving approach to sex with Kay. I like writing Bodhi as a techy guy.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

Time travel! God I love time travel. I just need to have some kind of plot, because you cannot wing time travel the way I wing so many fics.

24. Are there any easter eggs in [insert fic], and if so, what are they?

Not much space for Easter eggs in PWPs like "Essential Maintenance", but this line, sort of:

"He did enjoy Kay making him wait, winding him tighter and tighter until he felt like he was going to shake into pieces."

Even when it's not angsty I always want to have some reference to Bodhi being in pieces, because I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about post-Bor Gullet Bodhi being a bit broken.

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

Wookieepedia, ofc.

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

No dialogue. It probably wouldn't be readable, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about my dialogue being OOC.

27. How long did it take to write [insert fic]? Describe the process.

It took maybe two weeks or so to write "while(true)". It was an exchange fic so I was on a deadline. The first couple of days I was throwing ideas around but none of them were coalescing into a plot. I had the scene where Cassian has to fix an inert K2 and it was going to lead to Cassian doing something reckless and K later being mad at him, but I couldn't get it to hang together. Then I tried something more light-hearted. Eventually I realised that I had lots of moments, all with a different tone, and that a 5+1 type fic could be a good way to look at different points in the relationship. Throwing out the need for a full plot made it all flow.

28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who?

Not often, though I should get a beta reader really. Occasionally lovely Bright Elen will look over something when I'm flailing about it not working and be very kind about it!

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

I have, but I've not published it because I'm not happy with it. I'm not really a dark writer but I tried to write something a lot darker and more morally complex than I usually do and it's kind of a mess. But it was interesting, especially to realise how often I take some easy routes or make characters nicer than they maybe can or should be.

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write?

Depends on the fic! I love drabbles and also 100k epics.

32. What’s your ideal fic length to read?

Depends on what I'm in the mood for. Sometimes I don't have much brain space and want something short and sweet, other times I want to dig into a novel.

33. If you write chaptered fics, what’s your ideal chapter length to write? Is it different from your ideal chapter length to read?

About 3-5k words, both to read and write.

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

Ahaha some stuff is not meant to be shared online. I did enjoy setting some scenes of "darkness, moonrise" in Oxford, as I used to live there and could use real places I knew well.

35. What aspects of your writing are completely unlike your real life?

I have never lived in space or fallen in love with a single robot :(

36. Do you visualize what you read/write?

Absolutely, to the point that I get stuck on descriptions because I can't explain what I've visualised.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

"Clockwork" is a steampunk AU that I had a ball writing. I think steampunk lends itself really well to Rogue One!

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?

I don't know about surprisingly, but "Brief Encounters of an Unusual Kind" is my most popular, as it caught the first wave of The Mandalorian's popularity. I was quite surprised at the reception to "Changing Protocols" with my clone trooper and B1 droid OCs! That got a lot more traction than I expected.

39. Is any aspect of your writing process inspired by other writers or people? If so, who?

I can single-handedly credit Bright Elen for getting me into droidshipping <3

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

I reread my faves constantly.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

On "Episodic Memory" someone wrote 'But, here comes a story that defies all the typical aspects of love and you make me fall deeper in love with the idea of love' and honestly it made me a bit weepy because holy shit??? I love that commenter.

43. If you take/write prompts: what’s your favorite prompt fic that you’ve written?

One of the exchange prompts was for steampunk AU and I loved writing "Clockwork" so much.

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts?

Definitely scenario/narrative.

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic?

Writing generally, I think! But also having some kind of plan before I write something, instead of haring off on a half-baked idea and then getting discouraged when it doesn't work.

46 - answered!

47. If [insert fic] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.

Since "while(true)" is like five fics in one it would have to be a pair of those multipurpose running shoes that are good on trails and road and look nice enough that you could sort of get away with them as a casual normal shoe.

48. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

"Desert Sunrise" in the SW Rarepairs exchange, a Beru Whitesun/Pelli Motto fic. Definitely recommend, I really enjoyed it!

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

The final chapter of Circuits and Glow, which I hope to compete by the end of the year. Here's a bit from that:

"K-2SO rebooted, and for eight-point-two seconds he did not know where he was or how much time had passed. His optics flickered in and out. The sound through his audio processors was distorted and his vocabulator was offline. His last memory was corrupted. Panic flooded his processors, and he desperately sought the last complete memory file."

And my Rogue One Hunger Games AU (hopefully ready for AO3 next year):

"A lot of people were surprised when Jyn Erso emerged as the victor of the Hunger Games. District Nine hadn’t had a winner since Steela Gerrera over two decades ago, and Jyn was no Steela: too small, too light, too unassuming.

More fool them."

[ramp-it-up]

Fine

Pairing: Rafel Casal x Reader

Word count: 2Kish.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE! Dark Dom!Rafa, Daveed dancing, drinking, cursing, angst, possessiveness, ex sex, face slapping, bathroom sex, fingering, oral (f receiving) clit slapping, orgasm denial, bdsm, binding, lashing, gagging oral (m receiving).

Summary: You didn’t need Rafa anymore. You were just fine without him.

A/N: This is a little dark. I think I’ve used this pic of Rafa before, but it’s perfect for this fic. And btw, I’m on my Rafael Santiago Casal Bullshit. Watch out.

-----------

It had been 84 days and you were perfectly fine.

Out with your girls, you were wearing your freakum dress, getting plenty of attention and drinks.

You were fine.

So fine, that you were debating on which fine man to go home with. You surveyed the room for your pick. They’d all bought you a drink. You were polite, drank with them and told them you’d get back with them. You were trying to decide.

The chocolate one with the light eyes and the razor sharp fade?

The light skin with the gap teeth and hella swag?

The beefy blonde with the buzz cut?

You downed your fifth drink and moved towards those pretty gap teeth and swag.

Someone tall stepped in front of your 5” 6” frame in heels. You zigged and they zagged, blocking you from your goal.

You sighed and looked up at them, ready to politely ask that they move or cuss them out. It just depended on how their face made you feel.

You looked up to see Daveed and you squealed.

“DIGGS! HOLY FUCK IS THAT YOUUUU????”

He smiled and laughed at you.

“The one and only. What’s crackin’ girl?” He leaned back and surveyed your form in the dress.

“Damn! You’re still fine as hell!” He was shaking his head.

You threw yourself at him, your short body almost knocking his big lanky ass over with your over zealous buzzness. He laughed and hugged you more, leading you away from the bar.

“Where’s my girl?” You looked around for Daveed’s other half.

“She’s across country at a gig. I miss my Lady.” Daveed’s pout was adorable.

“Awwww, po baby. I’m gonna have to tell her to give you some electronic lovin.’” You started to pull out your phone.

“Oh, don’t bother. She already knows what’s up. Come dance with me.”

Daveed had turned into Mr. Smiley, and as usual, you couldn’t resist him. But you loved to tease.

“Boy, you know you can’t dance.”

“Fuck you mean????” Daveed started doing a very ugly robot.

“Fine! Let’s dance, ugh!”

You groaned and grabbed his hand to pull him out on the floor before he could embarrass himself, and you, any further.

Y’all had a ball, laughing and trying to talk to each other over the loud music, Daveed white girl dancing and you trying to teach him some moves.

After about four songs, the music turned slow and you two stood there awkwardly.

“Well, I guess I’ll go….”

You looked around to see if High Yella was still around.

Daveed’s eyes were above your head and the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

“May I have this dance?”

FUCK fuck fuck fuck fuck.

You turned around, and came face to face with Rafael Casal. Damn he was so fine.

You cocked your hip and crossed your arms, and glared up at him, mad because you felt like this was a trap.

Rafa stared at your pushed up breasts in the dress and your nipples pebbled as he licked his lips wolfishly.

You avoided the memories of Rafael’s excellent nipple play looked back at Daveed for rescue to see that Rafa’s wingman had suddenly disappeared.

You turned your head back to Rafa, the swivel in your neck obvious.

“I should have known that you would be lurking around here somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, super annoyed and full of attitude.

And that’s why Rafa’s dick was on hard. He needed to give you some act right.

He’d watched you promise your body to every dude in the place with that fucking dress and lead them on. He needed to remind you whose it was.

Fuck that he’d given you the ‘It’s not you, it’s me,’ months ago.

You belonged to him.

“I don’t lurk, Sweet Pea, I flow. And yeah, you know Diggs is the Yin to my Yang, and vice versa.”

Rafa was speaking low enough that you had to lean in, and you caught his scent. Fuck if you weren’t thrown back 83 days to the last time you’d let him take you apart and literally screw you back together.

That dick was an artistic masterpiece, just like everything about Rafael Casal.

But you were fine.

“You have some nerve, calling me Sweet Pea. Fuck you, Santiago.”

You were heated, and maybe it’s because you wanted some act right. You cursed your pussy’s muscle memory and the five drinks you had that were making you weak for him. Because other than that, you’d be fine.

“Maybe later.” He smirked at you, so damn cocky.

“So, are you gonna stand in the middle of the dance floor and cuss me out, or are you gonna move to the music with me?”

Rafa held out his arms and you looked around, pretending that you didn’t want to be encircled by them again. But you couldn’t be rude, right?

You stepped to him and he put his hands around your waist and crossed them behind you, pulling you flush to him. You stared at his lips as you felt him look down at you.

You didn’t dare look into his eyes, but this view was making you remember what that mouth do.

Shit.

Rafa cleared his throat.

“So, how have you been?”

You looked over his shoulder to the speakers on the stage.

“These past three months have been fine, just fine, Rafael. My life is so zen now. I’m happy.”

“Not quite three months, Sweet Pea. 83 days and 14 hours. And I’ve missed you like crazy.”

You looked up into his eyes when he said that. Oh, hell.

“Oh. Did you now?” You were hot.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke up with me the morning after you fucked me goodbye, you self centered narcissist asshole.”

You tried to leave his embrace, but Rafa slid his hands around to hold you fast, thumbs digging into your hip bones, hurting you. At the same time, his grip caused you to feel his desire pressed against your stomach.

You gasped and slapped his face. Hard.

You two stared at each other on the dance floor for a full ten seconds which seemed like forever.

The next thing you knew, you were being pushed up against the stall in the bathroom, the act of Rafa pulling you in there a total blur.

It always started like this, rough, fast, and hot.

Rafa’s hands were under the hem of your dress, dragging it up so that he could grab your panties and pull them down.

“You seem to have forgotten lesson number one. Whose pussy is this, Sweet Pea?”

You refused to answer and closed your eyes, memories of him seducing you just by teaching your fucking Poetry 201 course years ago flooding your brain.

He shook his head and knelt on the filthy floor as he removed and pocketed your thong.

“You prolonging your submission just prolongs the punishment, Sweet Pea. Is that what you need tonight?”

He licked a stripe up your leg and slung it on his shoulder, rutting into your pussy with his mouth.

Your protest at him stealing your clothing died on your lips and was replaced by a moan as Rafael’s skillful tongue started to swirl around your clit, while his fingers came up to roughly finger fuck your cunt.

“Damn, Rafa.”

You moaned and pulled his hair as his other hand came up to try and still your squirming on his face.

“Shut up and stay still, damnit.”

He spoke to you through your pussy, and your eyes rolled back in your head as the vibrations drove you crazy.

You tugged harder on his hair, which made him graze your clit with his teeth. Then, he laved it with his tongue and leaned back to look at it adoringly and then up at you.

You stared down at him, and watched his face glisten with your arousal. Then you caught his look. He sighed at your insolence.

“Fine. You know the drill. This is going to be payback.”

Before you could move, Rafa reached up and lovingly swirled three fingers around and around your clit, then slapped it three times.

You screamed, thankful that the club music was back to a loud cacophony.

He looked at you again, smiling that fucking smile.

“You wanna cum all over my face, Sweet Pea? Want me to make you unravel right here?”

You refused to answer him, but you both knew what was up. Rafa just chuckled at you, and leaned back in to devastate you with his mouth.

He flattened his tongue and took wide, languid strokes against your clitoris, keeping eye contact with you.

You were on fire, all nerves alive and reacting to what he was doing. He inserted two fingers inside you and curled them so precisely to that spot that always made you wonder if he was present at the engineering of your pussy.

You quivered, eyes squeezed shut and tears eaking out, so close to doing what he’d asked you about and bracing for it. Your muscles were taught, your feet were on tiptoe, even further than your 5 inch heels required, and you were holding your breath.

As soon as you felt you were about to gush into his mouth, suddenly, his warm tongue was replaced with cool air, and his fingers withdrew from your cunt.

“Arrghhhh! Cash! Fucking hell????”

He stood up, licking his fingers as he turned away from you, washed his hands and face, and used the water on them for his hair.

You were quivering with rage and desire. As you fixed your mouth to cuss him out, he spoke, calmly.

“You better not fucking move until I’m done.”

Rafa’s ice blue/green eyes in the mirror, and the tone, made you stand stock still, your dress still around your waist. Your pussy throbbed with excitement.

He finished the swoop, then turned back around to you, straightened your panties and pulled your dress down.

Then, he grabbed your face, pushing you against the stall again. His voice was menacing and cold.

“That’s just the beginning of your punishment for slapping me out there.”

You were dripping on the floor now. You wanted to hear what was next, despite yourself. No one could destroy and put you back together as eloquently as Rafael could.

Fuck, how you’d missed it. You were so wound up.

“If you want me to finish it, you know what to do. If you’re done…”

His eyes took in your face. So fucking beautiful.

“Well, goodbye Sweet Pea.”

He leaned in, and gave you a kiss, releasing your face and his hold on you. You moaned a little and put your arms around his neck, reveling in the tenderness while wanting the pain.

You whimpered as he pulled away, backed toward the door and walked out.

You went to the sink and put a cold paper towel on your neck, fixing your makeup and hair and getting your mind right.

You looked in the mirror. You were fine. You didn’t need what Rafael Casal had to offer.

You made a decision, straightened up and walked out of the bathroom.

----

An hour and a half later, you were in Rafael’s bedroom, naked on your knees, hands tied around your back, the lashes on your ass throbbing, gagging around his cock and praying that he’d let you breathe before you passed out.

You didn’t need Rafa.

But you wanted him.

And that was more than fine.

———

I hope it was fine for you! 😜

Tagging:

@sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri  @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @anh1020 @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @delaber @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonybitch @einfachniemand @elocinnicole @mysearchforgratification

[blu-joons]

Missing Comeback ~ Zhang Yixing

As soon as you walked into the bedroom and saw Yixing staring at the latest release to promote EXO’s comeback, you could see in his eyes how painful it was. He’d tried to be strong, for your sake, but it was hurting that he’d had to miss out yet again.

“You don’t need to pretend that you’re fine,” you assured him as you sat down beside him on the bed, “it’s natural to be upset that you’re not there, I’d be the same if I was in your position.”

Yixing’s teary eyes looked across at you, smiling weakly, before turning back to look at the photo. It had been a long time since either of you had seen any of the boys, but as yet another comeback came around, you knew this one was hitting Yixing hard.

“I don’t want people to forget that I’m also a part of EXO,” he admitted to you, resting against your side. “I’ve missed out for so many years, will I even be able to go back Y/N?”

“Of course. The timing just wasn’t right for this time around, but that time will come for you.”

His head nodded, but the doubt was creeping in with each passing moment that he looked at the screen. Each of the members looked so well, which only made Yixing feel worse about not being able to be there, especially with the group depleted by numbers already.

“I bet they all can’t wait for when you’re able to get back to Korea too,” you assured him, knowing just how much all of the members missed him. “It can’t be easy for them either.”

Yixing sighed softly, as memories of previous years began to hit him. “The photos for the comeback were one of my favourite times, I would have loved to have been there.”

“I know you would,” you comforted, smiling weakly across at him. “I wish I had the words to try and make you feel better, but I don’t really feel like anything I say will help, because I know deep down all you want to do is be there with them all right now.”

Yixing nodded with a heavy sigh, his heart was filled with regret and despair that he had to watch on from the side lines yet again. He was beyond proud of how well the group had been doing, and how hard he’d worked as an individual since his last appearance alongside them.

But the time for working by himself felt like it was over. You’d had many discussions with him about the things he wanted to do when the world allowed it and joining back up with the group where it all began for him was definitely at the top of his list.

“However hard it is, you’ve just got to keep cheering for the boys and remind them that you’re there for them,” you tried to suggest, “have you thought about giving one of them a cool?”

“I have done a few times, but they’re always so busy,” he admitted in response to you, allowing his head to drop and relax against your shoulder. “Sometimes I wonder if they’ve given up on me, do they still think that I’ll be back one day?”

It was difficult for you to truly say how the boys felt, you knew that they wished for Yixing to come back to them, but you also weren’t sure whether they really were happy getting on with things without him. It had been a long time for you all, and Yixing’s inactivity couldn’t loom over the group forever.

Rather than speak, you simply wrapped your arms around his shoulders and squeezed him a little tighter, but Yixing knew exactly what that meant. It was the answer he’d given himself, even if you were too afraid to say it to him.

“Watching the comeback will get easier,” you promised, kissing the top of his head.

A small hum came from Yixing as he reached forwards and pushed the lid of his laptop down, deciding that the photo was something to be studied when he was in a clearer state of mind.

“No one’s expecting you to be alright when you’re not though.”

Anytime you brought up the comeback, Yixing switched off. It was almost as if you were talking to a robot with how blankly he stared at you, his responses were always minimal, because he knew if he talked too much, he’d break in front of you.

“I don’t want to get upset over it,” Yixing sighed, “there’s no real reason for me to get upset over something I can’t control.”

“You have every right to be upset, you’re still a part of EXO, even if you can’t be there right now.”

“I wish I was though,” he frowned, glancing up at you, “I wish that I was with them all and able to be a part of all these memories that they’re going to make.”

Your head nodded as your hand brushed through his hair. Even you missed being around the boys quite often, shoots and recordings were always fun with the boys around.

“One day, I know that you’ll be able to be back with them and it’ll feel like you’ve never been away,” you tried to assure him, but Yixing’s head only shook.

He’d spent too much time focusing on false hope to trust in anything that the future held. So much of his career had swerved and spun around that he could never predict anything.

“There’s a chance that I might not,” he honestly stated, “but am I really prepared to look at that as a possible reality for my career?”

As much as he loved being a part of EXO, Yixing wasn’t oblivious to how successful a solo career he’d built for himself. There were people who relied on him, he had his own agency for a start, would time off be something that he could find to go back home.

“Only you can decide that,” you told him, resting against the top of his head, “do you feel like it’s something you can accept?”

“If I don’t have a choice, then I think so,” he informed you, letting go of another sigh. “It’s never the way I want things to be, but maybe it’s a future I need to consider.”

As hard as it was for him, Yixing was aware enough to know that even though he dreamt of the chance to head back to EXO, there could always be the chance of not being able to head back, however hard of an option that was for him.

“Whichever path you go down, I know that you’ll be incredible. Neither of us know what path that will be just yet, but whatever way you go, you know that you’ll always be a member of EXO, and that EXO will always want you.”

Yixing’s head nodded, bringing his hand up to wipe underneath his eyes before you spotted any tears falling. It broke your heart to see him so conflicted and doubtful about where life would take him, especially when you knew how much he wanted it to go one way.

“I know that I’m going to be their biggest fan on this comeback, but it still sucks that I can’t be a part of it,” Yixing frowned.

“No one’s expecting you to smile constantly when you have to watch on,” you reminded him, “but I know they’ll all love to have you cheering for them too.”

“I’ve never stopped being a part of EXO, whether I’m with them or not.”

“They know that,” you smiled, remembering all the little conversations you’d had with the boys. “And they’ll know that you’re with them throughout this whole comeback.”

“I just wish I could be there in person.”

“One day, you’ll be back with them again.”

---

Masterlist

[amonrawya]

The Greatest Gift of All

(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

*

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town. 

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky. 

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning. 

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out. 

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast. 

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

*

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief. 

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being. 

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now? 

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

*

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life. 

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

*

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them. 

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition. 

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her. 

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

[aerynwrites]

Specter

Boba Fett x F!Reader

A/N: For @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday! I had a lot of fun with this one as Sci-Fi is definitely my passion when it comes to writing, watching, reading stuff! So I guess a little backstory with this, is my inspirations for the reader came from the above image (left) as well as kind of mixing that with the idea of The Winter Soldier/Bucky from the MCU. Also I loved the idea of Boba facing an opponent that hes never faced before and getting his ass beat lol. So...here ya go! I hope you all enjoy! <3

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: fighting, guns, and knives.

Specter: Specter refers a ghost, or something that is widely feared or is a source of terror or dread.

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In all his years as a bounty hunter traveling the galaxy, It still surprises Boba sometimes that he doesn’t know all of the planets. Granted he is usually only called to the same ones over and over. So, seeing a new planet is something that causes surprise to tug at the edges of his mind. This is how he feels when the bounty he receives is said to be last spotted on a rather large yet secluded planet by the name of Zonuc. The memory of the exchange a few days ago replays in his mind as the ramp to Slave I lowers.

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“I’ve never even heard of this planet before, and you expect me to fly triple the distance I usually do to capture a bounty that you can’t even give me any information on? No age. No species. No name-”

“I gave you a name,” the client interrupts, waving his withering hand dismissively. The client is a wrinkly old Zabrak bastard who has caused Boba more frustration in the last half hour than he’s experienced in years.

“No,” he barks, “You have me an alias, which isn’t that helpful when they can just dump it for a new one whenever they please.”

The Zabrak rolls his eyes, “I was told you were the best. If you feel this is too much of a challenge I can just find someone else to-”

“Save your ultimatums for someone else, Kar,” Boba snaps, “I’ll get them. But I expect heavy compensation for the trouble this causes me.”

Kar sneers at the bounty hunter, “If you manage to bring them back to me alive, I assure you,” he leans back in his chair, “you will never have to worry about credits again.”

Boba scoffs before turning on his heel and leaving to find his bounty.

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The sight that greets Boba as the ramp of Slave I opens before him, is definitely different than anything he’s seen. Immediately he is struck with a familiarity. The city he’s landed in is teeming with life, bustling streets, towering buildings, neon signs hanging everywhere. It reminds him of Coruscant but less…refined. This place is definitely a place where those who want to disappear go. This place also reeks of trouble and shady dealings. What strikes him as the most odd however, is the people that seem to inhabit the place.

They look like humanoid droids. But not the kind that can’t do anything but follow their master around and translate languages. No. These things look like humanoids that have been transformed into machines. 

Boba treads carefully - senses on high alert while also listening to the tracking fob that beeps steadily at his side. He spends his first few hours on the planet trying to simply get his bearings, finally having found a non-robotic person to ask about the place. He learns that the people that inhabit the planet in majority are called Exos, a species he’s never heard of. He also finds that this place is exactly what he thought it to be - 

A place for criminals and wanted people to come and live and thrive in a life of crime. A safe haven for those on the run from people like him. 

He huffed at that information. No place is ever truly safe, and as his tracking fob starts to beep faster, he knows he’s about to teach that lesson to yet another bounty. 

He follows where the tracking fob leads him, surprised that the bounty does not seem to be moving. Finally, he rounds a corner at the end of the street he is on and he immediately feels when the bounty clocks him. You are at a stall in a marketplace in the middle of the street. He sees you turn to look just as he rounds the corner and he immediately recognizes the mask from the pictures shown to him by Kar. It's black, with orange glowing detail around the visor, creating a haunting effect. The second that visor lands on Fett, you turn on your heel and sprint in the opposite direction. 

The hunter curses to himself and gives chase.

He has faced many different bounties in his lifetime, but this one is the first that he has ever had a sliver of a doubt about. The way you dart nimbly through the streets before literally leaping off of walls to reach the roof tops, giving you a height advantage. Fett follows as best he can with his jet pack, but between dodging speeders and hanging signs he loses sight of you. For a moment, as he lands in a side alley, he thinks he actually lost the bounty. 

Until the fob at his side starts going haywire. 

He glances up above him and raises an arm just as you come crashing down onto him, razor sharp blade glancing off his vambrace as you land. Fett pulls his blaster from it’s holster and aims faster than most could blink, but not fast enough for you. You reach out and grab the end of his blaster before it even reaches chest level, and you yank it from his grip with a force that strikes a tinge of concern into hunters mind. He watches in utter shock as you break the solid metal in half over your knee before rearing back and throwing a knife in his direction. He barely dodges it and immediately reaches for his own blade to defend the attack he knows is coming. This time he is at least able to draw his weapon completely before you are on him again. 

You go to throw a punch at his head, and on instinct he leans into it, used to his opponent crumpling in pain once their fist makes contact with the solid metal. However, this time, he is the one that stumbles when a deafening ringing fills his ears as metal connects with metal.

Wait - metal on metal?

He glances up from where his eyes fell to the floor to see you rearing back to hit him again, and he just manages to finally realize what is happening. The black color of your hand that he had assumed were gloves, is actually smooth metal.

He’s fighting a fucking robot. 

Before he can dwell on it too long however, he dodges another blow and thrusts his blade forward and up with the intent of burying the blade in your stomach. But before he can, you reach out and wrap your fingers around the blade - stopping it in its path. You wretch the weapon from his hands before landing a herculean blow to his chest, sending the man flying backwards into the wall behind him. He collapses to the ground in a heap and is forced to watch as you snap his blade in half too before approaching the downed hunter. He can see that you think you’ve beaten him, and perhaps you have to some extent. But Boba Fett is not going out of this galaxy sitting on his ass.

So, just as you approach him, he swings his feet out and takes your own from beneath you. And in a puzzling turn of events, he reaches for the mask on your face instead of a weapon at his side. His fingers just manage to slip the plastoid from your head before a boot is placed into his stomach and he is flung backwards with otherworldly strength once more. This time, he is again surprised to feel his helmet being ripped from his head, watching as you launch it down the alley way before hauling him to sit upright against the wall.  

You crouch down in front of him, and it's then that he finally gets a closer look at the first bounty that has bested him. The first thing he thinks is that you’re pretty. too pretty to be hiding behind some mask. The second thing he notices is the rhythmic whirring and clicking of the mechanics coming from the, what he can see now, is two mechanical arms. 

He huffs, cringing at the stabbing pain in his side as you glare at him. “So, what are you anyway?” he finally asks, eyes tracing over your arms once more before returning to your face, “I feel like I at least deserve an answer before you kill me.”

Your head tilts to the side slightly at his words, and unbeknownst to him, similar thoughts to his own are running through your head. You find the bounty hunter somewhat attractive and very intriguing

“All you need to know is one thing-” you finally breathe, and Boba finds himself entranced by your voice, “Come after me again...And I won’t go easy on you.” 

You stand then, but not before shoving the man back into the wall harshly. You scoop up your mask and slip it back over your face and turn to exit the alley way, leaving the defeated bounty hunter on the ground.

“That was taking it easy on me?” Boba huffs out a laugh and shakes his head.

You pause and turn to look over your shoulder, visor glowing ominously as you say, “I don’t think you want to find out.” and then, with a mighty leap, you disappear into the rooftops.

Boba lets out a defeated sigh as you leave his eyesight, yet, he can’t help the way his lips tug up at the corners slightly. 

“I don’t know princess,” he mumbles to himself, letting out a low groan as he finally stands, “I think I want a rematch.”

And in that moment, in a damp ally on an unknown planet, Boba decides that he isn’t done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

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