#alien rook

what you need to do is pick him up like Thia, since all the 120/A-2s look to be plenty light and he's even missing legs, and you have to just walk off the ship before he realizes the Specimen is still viable. that way he will never feel compelled to go into Big Faker Mode (mind you, a mode it seems ash was nearly incapable of in comparison to rook's incredible proficiency)

Authors note: This post is working under the headcanons of this post.

「 ✦ David ✦ 」

On a quiet, rainy day, David approached you with the idea of having children. He explained that he wanted to create something meaningful; to make up for the life his father had forced upon him.

He assured you that he did not want to live vicariously through his child, but rather that he wanted to give them the one thing he'd never been given his entire life.

The gift of freedom.

And so, with very real nerves, much like the day when he first proposed to you, he holds your hands and your gaze. Ocean blue eyes asking for your permission to bring a new life into this world.

Whether if you said yes or no, he knew he'd be happy either way with you - however, he hoped for the former over the latter

David: "I've been thinking… about what it means to leave a legacy." He pauses, watching the rain streak the window behind you. "About creating something that is wholly its own… something meaningful. I want to give a child something I never had." You: "…And what's that?" His fingers intertwining with yours, eyes searching yours. David: "Freedom. The gift of choice, of autonomy… everything my father denied me." A soft sigh escapes him, it's barely audible. David: "I don't want to live through them. I don’t want to control their life. I only want to offer them a world I was never allowed to know. That… that is why I’m asking you." He meets your gaze fully, ocean blue eyes steady yet pleading. David: "May I? May I bring a new life into the world with you?" A quiet breath, the tension of nerves lingering in the room. He hopes you'll accept his request, yet, should you deny him. He knew happiness wouldn't escape him.

Before the baby even arrives or is even conceived within you, he has you on preventative care, vitamins, medications and a diet change. He'll be damned if something - God forbid - happens to his woman or child? He'd end his own existence.

David never got to meet his 'mother' (Ms.Wayland) and he'd want nothing more in this world for his baby to meet you. His little treasure.

At the day of the baby's arrival, he'd got you in medbay, tended by the best but most importantly him as well. He coaches you throughout the birth as he helps deliver his own child.

When he gets to meet them, he's crying tears of joy.

The names he'd choose: Icarus – daring to fly beyond limits; the tension between ambition and risk Artemis – goddess of the hunt and wilderness; fiercely independent, protector of the vulnerable

「 ✦ Walter ✦ 」

When you approached Walter and asked him what he thought of when it came to children and if he'd ever want to be a father himself - Walter cocked his head to the side slightly. He could pick up on the fact that this was something highly important and personal to you.

So, when he told you flatly that he would be more than content with whatever decision you came to - children or no children, one pet, six or none at all - he would be there through and through to support you. Did you almost pounce on him right then and there.

Much like all the others, Walter tracked your fertility window down to a T, it was like a poetic science for him. You wanted to get pregnant and have a child? Then so be it.

Walter: "Children?" You: "Yeah. Have you ever… thought about being a father?" He regarded you for a moment, not coldly, but with that steady, almost analytical curiosity you'd come to know so well. Walter: "I don't experience want in the way you do," he said finally. "But I understand why you ask. This is important to you." You nodded, a little nervously. "It is." He set down what he was holding, his tone softening. Walter: "Then whatever choice you make — children or none, one or many — I will support it. I will support you. My purpose, as I see it, is to ensure your happiness." There was no hesitation, no dramatic flourish. Just fact. Gentle, honest fact. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, fond and a little breathless. You: "Careful saying things like that, Walter. I might take it as an invitation." A flicker of something like amusement ghosted across his expression.

When it came down to the baby's arrival, it was done in the safety of medbay where he personally foresaw the entire process. While holding your hand and guiding you to breathe he helped the medical staff in your delivery.

It was seamless with little to no hiccups.

Its not until he's holding his child in his arms that he actually breaks down into tears, absolutely overwhelmed with joy at this beautiful being he helped create.

Names he'd choose: Rowan – protective tree, traditionally associated with magic and guardianship. Willow – flexibility, grace, and resilience.

「 ✦ Christopher Samuels ✦ 」

Your pregnancy came as a surprise to you both, actually. Yes, you'd both been wanting a child for quite some time but with his hectic work schedule, and your research papers. Sex was infrequent and often spaced out - a heat of the moment ordeal.

So, when he finds out he's due to become a father, Christopher takes an immediate change to everything. Slicing his hours in half to make more time for the woman he cares deeply about.

Christopher reads up on the parenting and prenatal and perinatal care books. He... is very worried about how he'll do as a father.

When the test turned positive, you both stared at it in silence for a long moment. Christopher blinked first. "That's… really?" You nodded, smiling. "Really." He laughed — half joy, half disbelief — before pulling you into a hug that lingered longer than usual. From that day forward, you noticed the changes: shorter hours, neatly stacked parenting books, and a quiet anxiety that trailed him everywhere.

Is someone like him suited for something like this? What if the baby doesn't like him? What if they prefer you? What if he can't bond with them? what if-?

However, you're quick to reassure his worries away. He's a good man with a noble heart of gold. If there's anyone in this world who'll be an excellent father to their child, it's him.

The baby arrives at home, it's just him, you, the doula and the midwife all working together to help you through this. Christopher has medical bay on speed dial should something happen on a data pad stored in his back pocket as plan b.

Thankfully though he doesn't need it.

Names he'd choose: Arthur – “noble, courageous”; a quiet symbol of integrity — the kind of man Samuels strives to be. Selene – “moonlight”; the soft illumination that guides — Samuels would appreciate its metaphor.

「 ✦ Kirsh ✦ 」

Kirsh had expected your pregnancy, he - much like Rook and Ash - also calculated and tracked your fertility window. Making sure to take full advantage of when he knew things were at their highest chances for a pregnancy.

Needless to say, that the moment he finds out he's delighted and you get to see him smile - big, bright and genuine - for the first time in forever.

You're met with a tender kiss to your forehead and a soft congratulations.

He trusts that your body will do what is best for the baby as they slowly develop but this doesn't mean that he won't have you on prenatal vitamins and medication to optimize health of his woman and child - because he most certainly will!

Kirsh: “How do you feel?” You smiled from the couch, hands resting over the swell of your belly. You: “Good. The baby’s been kicking more often lately. I think they get excited when they hear your voice.” There was a pause then a soft electronic hum, the faint sound of him setting something aside. Then, quietly, Kirsh: “Do they?” You could hear the warmth in his tone, the smile he tried to hide. Kirsh: “That’s… good. Very good.”

Kirsh personally delivers his own child in the med bay with the help of the medical staff, he helped to create this life, and he'll be damned if he doesn't help to bring them into this world.

And while this does mean that you're without his physical presence at your bedside, that doesn't mean that you're all alone as Dame Silva is right there - a mutual best friend of you two, godmother of your child. She coaches you along to breathe and holds your hand when you feel like you'll collapse.

The names he'd choose: Niko – short for “Nikola,” meaning “victory of the people”; a quiet tribute to human brilliance. Althea – “healer”; she who restores, something profoundly meaningful to him.

「 ✦ Ash ✦ 」 & 「 ✦ Rook ✦ 」

Ash had planned your pregnancy thoroughly - so much so that he was tracking your ovulation cycle like a hawk and making fierce love to you like a dying man when you were at peak fertility.

So, to say that when he found out you were pregnant, he wasn't surprised at all but very much excited by the news.

However, from this exact moment onwards, you are taken care of and doted on like no other. He's a great partner and an even better father to your future child.

He's read up on all of the parenting books available and keeps physical copies of all of them, they're very detailed and annotated with no empty space available.

He doesn't want to fuck this up for you or the baby, he'll be damned if he messes anything up.

You do however have to pull him away from his work because he has a tendency to run himself ragged with worry.

You: "Ash, you need to sit down. You've been pacing for hours." Ash: "I can't. There's too much that still requires verification. The nutrient profile in your supplements, the stress markers—" You: "Ash." you reach out, catching his wrist "Everything’s fine. I’m fine." He stills immediately, gaze flicking between your hand and your face. His voice drops its soft and measured, reverent even. Ash: "Fine isn’t sufficient. You're carrying something irreplaceable. You understand that don’t you?" When you smile faintly and nod, his expression softens. Ash: "Good. Then you'll forgive me if I continue to be thorough." He leans forward, pressing his palm lightly to your bump. Ash: "Everything I am now, belongs to this process. To them, you." There's a beat. Then, the faintest smirk. Ash: "Though if you insist on pulling me from my work again, I suppose I'll have to... comply. "

When the baby finally decides to arrive it's at the most unfortunate of circumstances, you're both in a shared (thankfully large) quarter and the baby has decided to come right now.

Ash is forced to deliver his own child by himself by the nine divines does it make him swell with pride (and so.. so.. SO MUCH ANXIETY).

When they're born he cleans them off and helps you do skin to skin within the first few minutes of birth. When he's sure both mother and child are safe, he'll urgently call the medical staff over to help make sure you're safe and healthy.

Names he'd choose: Aurelian — “golden”; a symbol of rare, flawless beauty Clara — “bright, clear”; purity of design

--

With Rook, it is almost quite the same as it would be with Ash with some minor differences. Unlike his counterpart, he doesn't read up on the parenting books as obsessively, of course he'll read on the importance of childbirth and wat you're going through as well as how to help his child.

But overall, he's more open to making mistakes - of course nothing grave but he wants to experience what it's like to be human. To stumble about, to experience the bumps along the road.

He was designed to kill, a cog in the machine called war. He's tired of being a machine - he wants to be a father, to be human.

"Are you sure you don't want to do more research?" you ask, watching him fidget with his hands like he doesn’t quite know what to do with them. He exhales needlessly, but it sounds almost real—and his smile twitches at the corners, uncertain but warm. "No," he says finally. "I think I've had enough of data and directives. I'd rather trust what I feel." He hesitates, gaze flicking to your belly, and his tone softens in a way you’ve never heard before. "Don’t worry, doll. I might not get everything right… but I'll make damn sure you're both safe."

The baby arrives with you in med bay, in a pool of warm water, he's right beside you holding your hand and guiding you through your breathing and the pushing as doula, midwife and almost the entire medical staff standby ready to assist at the first sign of distress.

The birth is beautiful and calm, exactly what he wanted for you and his child.

The names he'd choose: Pax – Latin for peace; the opposite of what he was made for. Nova – “new star”; new beginnings, new creation.

「 ✦ Bishop✦ 」

Bishop is both surprised and excited to find out that you ended up with child - his child to be specific.

He cares for you diligently during the entire pregnancy, often making time for prenatal checkups for you and the fetus.

He'll inform you of any issues that may or may not appear on any of the checks he does - thankfully nothing of concern pops up.

"Hey… how are you holding up, love?" he asked softly, careful not to crowd you.

"Tired… but good," you replied, managing a small smile.

He let out a thoughtful hum, his eyes lingering on you a moment longer before offering a reassuring squeeze of your hand.

Slowly, overtime as he grows more comfortable with the idea that a new life is growing inside of you, he begins to read parenting books just to make sure he'll do a good job.

It takes time, but eventually he does dote on your bump, he'll read books on human anatomy and medical conditions to it, which makes you giggle but ultimately is sweet and puts you to sleep.

The day of the baby's arrival he's right at your side, whispering words of encouragement at your ear, one hand tightly holding you as you squeeze the hell out of him. The other runs his fingers through your sweaty scalp to ground you.

He'll love that child till the ends of the earth regardless of gender.

Name's he'd choose: Orion — the hunter constellation; eternal curiosity Lyra — a constellation named after the lyre; harmony and grace

「 ✦ SFW ✦ 」

How it starts…

Rook, long before he joined the USCSS Renaissance, was repurposed as a synthetic combat model. He too (quite much like another beloved synthetic) served under the colonial marines as a First Sargeant.

If there's anything in this cold and unforgiving world that Rook loves more than anything, it is having control, following protocol, as well as enforcing standards and ensuring the well-being of his unit.

During his time served, Rook experienced loss and death firsthand, he'd lost many of good men and women in the line of duty. Many of which whom he was never close to and only vaguely knew about but in such times of yore; he was built to integrate well amongst humans despite his gruff and stoic nature. It's what many of the marine's liked about him, he was a no-nonsense type of guy.

During such loses Rook wasn't given the curtesy of mourning, though every death would be acknowledged for less than fraction of a second, their names lay not forgotten.

As a 1stSgt, Rook had managed to meet two human men who would serve to begin instilling the seeds of softness and humanity within him. Of these where an American blonde man named Kieran and a scarred much larger Scottish man named Mitchell. Between them they helped to show him that perhaps protocol and control wasn't all there was to life.

That was however, until he lost Kieran on his 28th birthday, killed in a freak accident. That was the first time anyone in his company had seen the man breakdown.

And it would be his last, if he had any say in the matter. That is until he met you.

From the very moment he lay eyes on you, his fate was sealed. You were the most captivating human he'd ever seen in such a long time that he had to run a quick diagnostic on himself to insure he wasn't in the midst of being shut down.

Being who he is, Rook kept his distance from you, deciding not to get attached. Although the USCSS Renaissance was no warzone but a space faring vessel, he knew what attachment meant. It meant loss and pain and he sure as hell wasn't going to allow himself that mistake again. His hands idly touch Kieran's dogtags in memory.

However, even despite his coldness, there's something in you that refuses to turn away- a quiet understanding that his distance isn't cruelty, but fear disguised as indifference. You extend warmth where he's built walls, kindness where he's drawn lines, as though some part of you believes he's still worth saving from himself.

With that in mind, you begin to pay him regular visits, paying no mind to the eyerolls you reconceive. Your warm smile brightens the room and stills the brewing storm that surrounds him. He begins to actually look forward to your visits, though he'd never tell you that.

Your laugh makes his cheeks flush, the color of your eyes reminds him of the rising sun, a promise of a new day. You begin to mean safety, the calm within the maelstrom.

One day, when you touch his arm, trying to help steady him after he nearly falls due to a piece of scientific tube managing to get caught under the sole of his foot, Rook's entire face flushes a deep scarlet red. You're both dumbfounded and Rook stares at you with a blank unreadable expression - despite the echo chamber of screams rattling the inside of his internal processor.

From that day forward, he's sold on your person.

He pays you infrequent visits, occasionally bringing something from the mess hall he's seen you enjoy along with some protein synthesized orange juice. He insists 'its nothing really' but you know otherwise.

「 ✦ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 ✦ 」

It's a quiet evening, you're both together in his quarters of all places. You look around at the sad sight that greets your eyes, it's a small room, almost cramped but somehow manages to fit two people just barely. He has the bare essentials of what it means to survive (not like he'd realistically need any of it anyways given his mechanical nature).

You set the plant and grow light you'd bought for him that one time the Renaissance was planet bound. Despite the small gesture, you can't help the strange sad feeling inside of you as his room feels just a bit more homely.

He eyes you, quiet. Analytical eyes always taking in information regarding your person, as he grew to know more of you, he discovered the paradoxical nature of your upbringing. Life had given you hell, kicked and beaten you down on multiple occasions, yet in spite of it all, you still chose to love. You still chose gentleness.

He approaches you from behind, anxious hands settling on your hips, you feel him drum along your hipbone and you cant help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

"Something's on your mind, I can tell." You speak up, voice soft as you look down at his hands and wrap your own around yourself to hold onto his larger ones. "Perhaps." he replies simply, his deep gravelly English voice near your ear.

There's a pause between the two of you, a beat of comfortable silence as you stare down at the plant before he finally continues.

"_?" He calls to you, you swear he almost sounds like he's drowning as you fee his lips on the back of your neck. "Hm?" "I believe I'm in love with you..." You can't help the little laugh and smile that forms, you're grinning, beaming even. He huffs behind you and almost seems to pull away, however, you're quick to stop him halfway. Turning around to meet his gaze, ocean blue eyes - fierce and strong like ice - boring into your soul. "Did I say stop?"

And that was all he needed to hear from you. The distance between you vanished in an instant, his breath mingling with yours before his mouth claimed you in a rush that felt both desperate and inevitable. His body pressed you back against the wall, the world narrowing to the heat of him, the quiet thunder of his pulse beneath your palms. Every kiss felt like a confession, every touch like a prayer whispered into the dark - wordless, reverent, and starved for something neither of you dared to name.

Sex with Rook is less about conquering, less about fucking like two animals in heat but more about worship, connection, bonding. Had you not known he was machine, you could've sworn your souls were intertwining in this very act.

「 ✦ SFW ✦ 」

From then on, he allows himself moments of vulnerability in your presence. He smiles — a rare, fragile thing — and even laughs. The sound of it is like a storm-torn sky finally breaking open, revealing the quiet light beyond the ruin.

You didn't know Rook was capable of eating you out like a man dying of hunger, but! here you were. Back arched as your hand cradled the back of his head like your life depended on it.

He, meanwhile, held onto your thighs so tightly you were sure they would leave bruises in their wake the following day.

Rook was an expert with his mouth, keeping his tongue flat as he greedily lapped at your folds, drinking in your fluids. Or perhaps he was bobbing his head, hollowed out cheeks greedily taking every last inch of your cock - bottoming out impossibly deep. Which leaves you grateful at his lack of a gag reflex.

"You're extraordinary" he murmurs against your skin, voice steady, almost reverent. "Every sound you make… it tells me something" he adds softly, watching your expression, studying every flicker of reaction. "Breathe" he whispers. "Let me learn you."

His favorite pastime while using his mouth on you is adding his fingers into the mix, one entering your cunt/or rear. As he works double time to get you to orgasm for him.

Rook keeps his pace deliberate, each movement matched to your breathing, his focus absolute. The room feels smaller, wrapped in warmth and the quiet sounds between you. His eyes lift to meet yours for a moment—sharp, hungry, but gentle too, as if every reaction is something sacred he's discovering.

"That's it" he whispers, his tone both command and comfort. "Stay with me." You can only nod, fingers curling weakly, your whole body drawn to the gravity of his voice. "Good" he murmurs, a smile ghosting across his lips. "I've got you."