Okay yes he thinks about her all the time, misses her when she's not around, heats up when she so much as brushes by him, but he's not in love with her or anything...what a ridiculous notion. 🫣
Summary: C-3PO has a chat with a stranger. All aboard the angst train!
Warnings: Spoilers for St.ar Wa.rs Episode IX (Ri.se of Skyw.alker), mentions of loss.
“Excuse me…”
Blue eyes glance up meet his photoreceptors, and with her attention now on him, the droid continues.
“I don’t believe we’ve met quite yet.” He extends a hand to the woman, seated on a bench, sketchpad in hand.
“I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations.”
The woman stares at him for a moment, expression unreadable, before she holds out a hand, using the other to steady the sketchbook now resting in her lap.
“…Kaiyo.”
The name seems familiar, though he’s not sure why. Perhaps it was just one of the many names of the resistance members his new friend R2-D2 had told him about.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kaiyo,” he says, hand still in hers. He stiffens as he notices the ring on her finger before her other hand returns to rest in her lap. He debates asking about who holds the other ring, but quickly decides against it. Instead, he gestures to the sketchpad.
“May I ask what it is you’re working on? Are you an artist?”
Her lips quirk up in a smile that fails to reach her eyes.
“You could say that…”
She hesitates a moment before motioning for the droid to sit down, shifting her body to give him a better view of her sketchpad.
“Ah, is that…a starspeeder?”
“Mhm,” she affirms, turning the page to reveal more mock up sketches. “Ever since the fall of the First Order, I’ve had some more time on my hands.”
“This is quite an exquisite design, I must say,” Threepio compliments, “I am by no means an expert on starspeeders, but this one looks unlike any I’ve ever seen.”
He notices the human flush, what he has come to understand as a response to deep embarrassment…or flattery.
“Thank you. Well, you’re right, it doesn’t exist…yet. I’m working with a friend of mine who’s more adept at this kinda thing. They’re going to handle most of the actual inner workings. But…” she sighs, smiling, “I love creating new designs.”
The woman continues to eagerly show him more sketches, some of starspeeders like the first one, and others random drawings of wildlife, plants, and creatures. She seemed closed off at first, but she prattles on with an infectious enthusiasm that the droid can’t help but be drawn to. He feels as though he’s known her for longer than five minutes, combined with distant glimpses of her around the base. However, he was only activated a few weeks ago; such a thing, though strange, simply isn’t possible.
Kaiyo has flipped to another page, though she abruptly stops her excited rambles, eyes suddenly hardened at the sight of what’s on the next page. He looks down to see what the fuss is about and…oh.
“Is that…a self portrait?”
He is mainly able to tell because of the ponytail, though the anguished looking woman on page has a striking resemblance to the one sitting next to him, stiff as a board. Her eyes dart from the page to him, hand poised above the page like she wants to rip it off, crumple it up, or burn it. Maybe all of those things. Instead, she sighs.
“I didn’t mean to show you that. I…drew it as a form of self expression.”
He’s almost afraid to ask. After all, prying into one’s personal affairs is improper. However, he doesn’t need to pry when the words come pouring out of her like a leaky faucet.
“I drew it shortly after the battle on Exegol. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of us were happy to finally see the actual end of Palpatine, but…” she traces the portrait’s face almost as if she’s trying to comfort the sketched version of her.
“No war is won without costs. And he was a hefty one.”
“He?”
Her eyes widen, shaking her head as she realizes her slip up.
“Um…no one, I shouldn’t have said that…uh—“
“It’s perfectly alright if you don’t want to talk about it, Miss Kaiyo.”
“I haven’t for a while—or at least, it seems like it, but…” she fiddles with her ring, pointedly avoiding his attentive gaze.
“My husband…made a sacrifice. It saved the galaxy, and it was by no means the wrong choice. I’m…glad he did it.”
The shininess of her cheeks say otherwise.
“I’m sure that was difficult to learn of…but I’m sure it was a choice he made not just because of the galaxy, but because you’re a part of it, too.” He pauses. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”
She says nothing in return, even when he instinctively reaches up to swipe away a tear. His hand is metal, so it doesn’t help much, but it’s the gesture that counts, or so he thinks. Kaiyo seems to agree, reaching up to grasp his hand, still holding her cheek. She seems to lean into his touch, and it feels familiar, it feels natural, it feels—
“Threepio!”
Kaiyo yanks herself away at the sound of footsteps, quickly rubbing her eyes with her sleeve. The young recruit bows in apology for interrupting, explaining that the droid’s presence was requested by General Organa herself. The droid follows, bidding her goodbye, and Kaiyo watches. Her eyes flit down to the sketchpad, and in a fit of frustration she shuts it, tossing it next to her on the bench.
Dammit, Kaiyo. You’re supposed to be moving on from this. But how can you move on from someone who is only partially gone? The same person, just without everything that made him yours?
Note: I made this with the thought of “what if Threepio didn’t get his memory restored?” Because I think about that a lot and I enjoy the angst.
When you leave your boyfriend unattended for five minutes and he’s already traumatized an innocent snowman
Okay I know out of context the caption and what my s/i says sounds wild but let me explain 😭
I don’t play dream.light valley myself, but I watched some play throughs of Jack’s quest and he was so adorable? He managed to upset multiple other characters by accident. The ice cream was Ol.af’s, but Jack, according to Ol.af, stuck his fingers in the ice cream because he didn’t know what it was! 😭 So the main character is forced to make a new ice cream and lecture Jack about how to treat people’s food.
