#all it takes is a bit of explanation and usually The Child (in my experience) will go like 'yeah okay whatever'

[mothbaaalls]

i so don't understand ppl who don't like it when children ask questions bc like? i have the time of my life when ppl are actually interested in what i'm talking about and want to understand?

The Child will ask me like seven questions in a row and the only thing that bothers me is when it's distracting us (as in BOTH OF US) from what we're supposed to be doing...

[sunflowerandsunshinebaby]

Their Girl, Part 6

TW: N/A I believe

Translations: Malysh - baby

Word Count: 4K

Tags: @cryingatwindermerepeaks @helloomimi @kawaiipeacemusic as always thank you guys for listening :)

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt.7 Pt.8

Warning: As a reminder this is a SFW blog and this is a completely SFW series!! If you are NSFW or have MDNI in your bio then let me know if you have an agere side blog. If not please do not interact with my blog or this series!!!

The sun shone through the white curtains and Natasha rolled over groggily. Her hand was still intertwined with yours and she glanced at you. Your hair was sprawled across the pillow and one of your legs was hooked into Wanda’s. She chuckled “well you certainly didn’t float away” she said under her breath. She sat up and blinked blearily as she moved her red hair out of her face. Natasha stood up and headed to her closet changing into her yoga clothes and heading out kissing Wanda's forehead.

The alarm went off and Wanda groaned into her pillow, disentangling from you before muting her phone. She rolled over and smiled at your sleeping form. You twist in the blanket and then sit up opening your eyes at Wanda. “I feel…like the people in the movies when they wake up hungover” you mumble to her. She laughed softly and slid out of bed  “we’ll talk about everything over lunch okay?” She murmurs and you nod all of the events from  last night flashed through your mind. You had acted like a child…a toddler really and honestly felt like one too. 

You let out a noise of embarrassment and squirm a little and Wanda grins “little love it’s nothing to be embarrassed about alright?” Her tone is firm and you nod quickly. She heads to the closet to change and you hop out of the couples bed and head to your room. You find a pair of leggings and decide to keep the otter shirt on. You opt to do your hair taking the time to decompress from everything from last night. 

That had been an…interesting experience. You weren’t quite sure of everything that had gone on but the only  feeling that stuck with you was comfort. While the two women had made you feel comfortable, your entire stay so far last night had been different. Once you’re  done you walk out to the kitchen and catch a glimpse of Natasha doing yoga on the porch while Wanda blends smoothies. You cringe at the loud pulsing noise and Wanda shoos you outside with a small tsk.

Natasha looks up from her current yoga position and smiles “morning” she greets and you sit down on the porch bench. “Mornin’” you rub your eyes still feeling a bit tired and bleary from the night before. Natasha smiles and you sit there watching the morning clouds while she finishes her yoga. The clouds make a few funny shapes like one that looks similar to a teddy bear if you squint hard enough. And another reminds you of a heart and you’re tilting your head to try and figure out what one of the clouds reminds you of when Natasha taps your shoulder. You jump and shoot her a sheepish smile “breakfast and explanations come on kiddo” she says with a slightly hesitant smile.

You nod hopping up from the bench and tilt your head one last time just to realize the cloud reminded you of an otter. You smile as you walk in and see the three red smoothies on the table with eggs and slices of toast. Natasha kisses Wanda’s cheek with a fond smile and you wave at Wanda. “Thank you ma’am” you murmur to her as you sit down at what now has become your usual spot next to Natasha and across from Wanda. You slather jam onto your toast and take a bite wiping away the crumbs on your leggings. 

“So” you say "mouth half full “explanation. I have about an hour till my class so go ahead.” Wanda casts a stern glance at you and you pretend not to see it shifting to Natasha to avoid it. Wanda clears her throat “What you experienced last night, malysh, was age regression, which is where you mentally and emotionally go back to a younger age. Usually an age where you felt safe and comfortable. This can happen due to trauma or stress or just something that your body needs to cope with issues. While it can be voluntary and involuntary, specifically what you experienced was involuntary. However you can also still experience it in a voluntary manner. Based on your behaviors you seemed to be in the headspace of a toddler but that can change each time. Understand?” Wanda says all of this in a factual manner and it was clear she was in her element. Natasha looked at her adoringly while you sipped your smoothie processing everything.

“Right…and will this happen again?” You ask carefully not sure if you want it to but at the same time it makes you feel nice. “Most likely yes” Wanda said nodding as she cut her egg up. “Right…” you say pondering everything as you finish your toast. “You alright there malysh?” Natasha asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Yeah I think so…just considering everything. Is this like a popular coping mechanism?” You ask curiously wondering if the internet could help at all. “I wouldn’t say it’s normalized but popular yes” Natasha answered “the community is strongest online.” She adds and you raise an eyebrow at her.

“The community is made up of caregivers which is what both Natasha and I are, so the people that take care of the littles which are age regressors like you.” Wanda explains and finishes her egg. You eat as she continues explaining “there are also flips which are people that caregive and regress. There’s also age dreamers which are littles that can’t actually enter the headspace but participate in age regression activities.” She adds and you nod again. It seemed easy enough to understand for now and knowing more about it made you want to enter the…’headspace’ as the two women called it again. You sip the smoothie and hum softly in appreciation for the fresh taste of the berries. 

“Do you think…I could do that again but on purpose this time?” You ask hesitantly “Just to kind of get more of a feel for it?” Wanda and Natasha exchange a look that’s equal parts fond and triumphant. “Of course malysh. Today is my day off so I’m available all day.” Natasha says and Wanda chuckles “she’ll end up doing work from home” she says teasingly. “And I’ve got lunch with Agatha and some classes. And little love, don't you have a few classes today?” Wanda points out and you finish your breakfast before modding. “Mhm one in a little bit and then another about half an hour after. Then I’m planning on doing the notes for your class that I didn’t finish last night and look over professor Barnes’s syllabus” you explain as you gather your dishes and put them away. 

Wanda nods “well leave in a few minutes so go ahead and grab your stuff” she informs and you go grab your shoes. “Y/n, you can come back for lunch today” Natasha says “I’ll drop you off after your second class. It ends at 1:00 right?” Wanda asks as you go to grab your bag. “Yes ma’am” you answer heading back to the guest room and grabbing your backpack. Natasha pops a juice pouch into the side pocket with a smile “hydrate” she says as she smoothes Wanda’s sleeve. You roll your eyes playfully at her as you head out to Wanda’s car. She hops in a minute fixing her slightly disheveled hair as you buckle in. Instead of turning on the rock from yesterday she mutes the radio and glances at you.

“How are you feeling, hmm?” She asks as she backs out of their driveway  and you shrug and she pokes your arm. “Alright alright. Good I guess…I mean it was a nice experience. I felt safe and relaxed for the first time in a long time. And you and Miss. Natasha were amazing” you add smiling a little at her. Wanda let’s out a warm laugh “thank you little love. I personally think this would be a good thing for you to explore. Not only from a personal standpoint but a psychological one. Already today and the moments where Natasha and I have acted much like a caregiver to you it’s noticeable you’re more relaxed and calm. Not to mention you were pretty cute when you were little.” Wanda says with a wink and you flush “thank you ma’am. And I do want to explore it more. Especially with you two you two made me feel really safe” you admit in a small voice. 

Wanda smiles and turns back on the radio and you return to looking out the window playing with your backpack strap. She parks in the same spot and you hop out “I’m going to World Literature with Professor Calderu now” you inform her and she gives you a quick hug. “Text me or Natasha if you need anything okay?” She said holding your gaze and you nod pulling out your phone for the campus map. You find your way to her classroom and head for a seat in the back. You arrived a few minutes early and catch a glimpse of the professor. She's in a patterned and colorful dress with an orange sweater that looks insanely comfortable. You look around seeing if MJ or Peter were here and frown disappointedly when they aren’t.

A few minutes into class the door swings open and Peter rushes in babbling apologies as she heads up the stairs backwards before settling into a seat next to you. You give him an amused glance as he mumbles something about getting lost. Meanwhile professor Calderu begins discussing her expectations of the class and it sounds slightly intense. You begin to type notes and rush to catch up with how she bounces around on different topics. She seems cool though probably someone Wanda would like. After 2 hours of going over the class and beginning notes and listening to all the topics the class is over. You and peter walk out in silence as he fidgets with his blue t-shirt and your mind drifts back to the concept of being small again. “Where are you heading?” Peter asks curiously and you open your mouth but your phone goes off. 

You grab your phone and see a text from Natasha ‘got you a drink little otter. I’m parked near Lilia’s classroom’ you grin down at your phone. “Well I’ve got Professor Jones next for linguistics” you tell Peter “but I have been delivered  a drink mind coming with me to grab it?” You ask hopefully and he waves it off “of course not where we heading?” He asks with a large grin and you’re reminded of a golden retriever. “Just the parking lot near here” you reassure him and he grins “bet I can beat you there” and then he’s breaking off into a sprint. You gasp playfully and run after him but he’s fast. You skid to a stop when you see Natasha standing outside her car with a Frappuccino. It’s pink and you grin even as your momentum sends you almost flailing into the car. Natasha grips your arm dragging you back and passes you your Frappuccino and then a filled water bottle.

“Thanks” you say quietly, giving her a quick impulsive hug. She chuckles into your ear “try and drink most of that water okay sweetheart?” She asks and you nod before letting go. “I’ll see you in an hour and a half” you wave and you head back to Peter. He grins “beat you by the way. She seems nice.” He says happily and you nod in agreement as you start heading to your linguistics class. “Where are you heading?” You ask Peter and he shrugs “don’t know yet. Probably the Gamoran library which is this way too.” You and him walk together listening to the people run around or rush to class. When you arrive at your classroom you wave and head in securing a third row seat while Peter heads to the library.

Your professor seems intimidating as he stands at the front of the class and begins to talk about how difficult the class is. You fidget getting bored as he drones about how many people fail and get on your computer under the guise of notes. Like anyone would take notes on this. You see a few other students doing the same thing. You check behind you and don’t see anyone directly behind you. You lower your brightness and look up ‘age regression’ you begin to read the articles and gnaw on your lower lip. You finish your Frappuccino and drink some water as  you go over to YouTube and watch a few videos with closed captions on. By the end you’re feeling much more secure in this and much more excited for being small later. Assuming you would be able to get into the headspace again.

You close your computer and watch the boy in front of you play Tetris for the next half an hour until class is over. You already hated the class and the professor and grumbled under your breath as you walked back to the parking lot near Wanda’s office. Natasha’s car is sitting there and you slide into the front seat setting your backpack down. “Hi Miss. Natasha” you say clearly annoyed as you drink some water. 

She chuckles “what’s going on kiddo?” She asks as she turns on the car while you buckle up. “My linguistics professor already sucks. He spent the entire class talking about how hard his class is and he doesn’t have a syllabus or anything.” You say staring out the window while Natasha drives. She frowns “who is it?” Her voice raises a little in curiosity and you turn to look at her “Professor Jones” you tell and her frown deepens. “Oh…Wands is not particularly fond of him. She’s heard complaints about him before and frankly he doesn’t seem to like either of us very much.” Natasha says with a snort drumming her fingers onto the steering wheel.

“Well he certainly deserves it” you agree and check your phone and see a text from Yelena. You text her back and you two talk about one of her jerk customers. Natasha parks the car and you hop out grabbing your stuff. “I was planning on doing a chopped salad if you’re fine with that.” She tells you and you nod “sounds good to me.” You set your stuff down in your room and head back to the kitchen where Natasha has pulled out chicken and lettuce and other salad ingredients as well as two vegetable choppers.

She demonstrates how she chops her lettuce by essentially smashing the top down and then she makes the rest of her salad. You  copy what she did and Natasha watches in amusement as the tip of your  tongue sticks out of the side of your mouth in concentration. When you’re done with your salad you show her proudly and she chuckles. “C’mon we can eat on the porch” you both walk out onto the porch and sit on the bench together. “Besides Professor jones how was your day?” She asks as you shovel the food into your mouth. “Good” you say after swallowing “one of my professors said we could call her Lilia and she seems nice. Kind of flighty but cool.”  You inform her and she nods wisely “she’s a friend of a friend” Natasha says and drinks some water.

“You two are oddly connected” you state and continue eating and she laughs. “How was working from home?” You ask curiously and she shrugs “fine. Got paperwork done. Had two meetings with some coworkers. Cleaned for Wands and did some meal prep.” Natasha details her day and you bob your head as you eat. When you two are both done she hops up “wanna head to the public library before you  do some work?” You nod with a grin. 

“We can walk” Natasha said simply and hops in, leaving her dish on the porch bench and grabbing her wallet and phone. You follow her and follow the path out the neighborhood “want me to grab some kiddo books before small time tonight?” Natasha asks and you nod hopefully “yes please ma’am” you answer skipping alongside her. She chuckles softly and holds your hand walking quickly with you. Your eyes go wide when you see the bright big library and you beam. You rush in and Natasha laughs following you in. “Alright little love I’m going to head to the kids section you wander around and text me when you’re ready to go okay?” Natasha instructs and you nod quickly.

You run up the stairs and begin to browse through the books. You see a few titles that seem interesting and grab them by stacking them. You feel a tap on your shoulder and spin around just to see MJ. “Oh! Nice to see you again MJ” you adjust the book stack so that you can wave. She gives you a half amused grin and taps the top book “this one’s good. The teacher of Warsaw right?” You nod “never read it but it looked good” you say simply and she nods. The two of you end up browsing books together, occasionally trading them back and forth. By the time Natasha comes up to bring you back home you have a stack of books almost to your chin. 

She chuckles and takes them from you, setting them into her library bag. “Bye y/n” MJ says returning to the bookshelves and you wave while walking with Natasha to the check out. You catch a glimpse of the kids books and smile “I loved Winnie the Pooh” you tell her and she grins as she slides your books under the barcode scanner. You two walk back together and you hum softly admiring the light blue sky. Natasha walks with the bag of books and talks on the phone with one of her workers. You listen to her calmly explain something and feel a flash of interest. You begin to listen to her conversation furrowing your brows in  slight confusion. 

She talked quickly and used a lot of lingo you didn’t quite understand. She gets so distracted she almost walks past her house and you quickly grab her arm and steer her back. She chuckles softly and shoots you a grateful look as you open the door and grabs both of your salad boxes. Natasha sets the bag down and presumably heads to her office while you head to your room. You open back up your psychology book and begin to take the notes. Remembering the fuzzy feeling from last night made you feel slightly fuzzy again. But you push it away and begin to type the notes.

You manage to get through the whole notes over the next hour and a half and take a break. You grab your juice box and sip on it while you scroll through YouTube. Then you  decide to do  professor Barnes' homework and groan when you see the short answer questions already based off of the textbook. You work on that while listening to music but get distracted when you hear a “‘I’m back!” From Wanda and you quickly wrap up your answer. You look at your finished homework with a satisfied smile before darting off to see Wanda. You glimpse at the clock hanging in the kitchen and see that it’s almost 6:30 already. 

You make a surprise ‘O’ face and Wanda laughs “time flies hmm little otter?” She smiles at you, rubbing your back. You see Natasha on the couch holding 3 plates with reheated Chinese. The Winnie the Pooh book is sitting on the coffee and you smile softly. “Ready for small time, little love?” Wanda asks curiously and you nod heading to the couch. You sit down while Wanda changes into pajamas and sits next to her wife. Natasha passes you your food. “Before we try and get you into your headspace let’s establish a few rules” she says firmly in a tone that you’ve associated more with Wanda. But Natasha seems to be in lawyer mode so do you nod.

“No running in the house. No cursing while little. Try and behave little love. Ask one of us before doing something potentially dangerous. That’s about it for now” Natasha says and you nod “sounds good” you say quietly. “Alright then. Let’s work on getting our little one back hmm?” Wanda says rubbing your back while Natasha picks up the book. She begins to read the first story in the collection and you rest your head on Wanda’s shoulder. You listen intently and lean forward to see the pictures and beam when you see  the drawings. “Who’s your favorite baby girl?” Wanda asks softly and you nibble on your lip “Roo! Or Tigger” you answer happily and Wanda and Natasha exchange a fond smile.

You were already feeling smaller; the two women were experts at this. As you bite your lip you continue to listen and become enamored squealing when Wanda tickles you when the heffalumps show up. Natasha grins and you snuggle into Wanda listening as Natasha's warm voice describes how Winnie the Poohs day ended with a visit from his bestest friend Christopher Robin. At that you jut your lower lip out feeling properly small “miss yena” you inform Natasha who nods in agreement. “I miss her too Malysh but she said she’d visit at some point in the next few weeks” Natasha reassures, kissing your forehead. 

You beam up at her happily “yay yena!!” She chuckles softly and nods while Wanda notices you nibbling on your lower lip. She digs through the purse sitting in front of her and finds and finds a bag opening it and removing a bracelet. It has red hearts on them and is made out of a cool material. “Here sweetheart chew on this” she says and you slide it onto your wrist. You begin to chew on it and melt a little against the two women. Natasha chuckles and grabs a basket sitting on the coffee table. She pulls out a coloring book and some markers and sets it down on your lap. She grabs a book for herself and Wanda next. “Thanks mam-Miss Tasha” you hurriedly correct yourself with your face burning.

You flip through the book chewing on the bracelet until you find a cute flower page and then begin to color. Your wrist drops as you stick your tongue out in focus as you color trying to keep from going outside the lines. Wanda turns on Disney music and you hum along while Natasha sings softly and Wanda looks at her wife in adoration. You color until you finish the drawing and show them proudly “Miss Wanna!! Look!” You show her excitedly and she smiles “I’ll put it on the fridge sweetie” she pecks your cheek and returns to coloring. Natasha strokes your hair “beautiful baby” she murmurs. You bounce while they color feeling slightly restless and Wanda laughs softly. 

You flip over the page and begin to scribble as you chew on your bracelet. You set the page down and begin to shovel the Chinese into your mouth, your cheeks stuffing out again. When you’re done eating Wanda leans forward “okay little love” she grabs a napkin and rubs your face. You scramble to sit on her lap and she laughs “Miss Wanda!! Strawberry shortcake please!!” She smiles at you and turns on the tv navigating to the episode you 3 had watched last night. You chew on the bracelet as you watch singing along to the theme song. Natasha sets her coloring book down and leans against you “can I do your hair y/n?” She asks softly and you nod quickly sitting down in front of her. She runs her fingers through your hair and begins to braid it.

You bob your  head along to strawberry shortcakes parade and Natasha laughs softly “can you keep your head still little love?” She requests and you still your head until she’s done. She snaps a picture of your hair and shows it to you and you grin “thank you ma-Miss Tasha!!” Natasha and Wanda glance at each other and Wanda tugs you back onto the couch. You watch with wide eyes and bounce in your seat as strawberry shortcake learns that corn turns into popcorn. 

You three watch until the clock hits 8:00 and then Wanda’s leaning down to you “okay baby let’s get those teeth brushes and get you changed and we can head to bed mkay?” Wanda says and you frown at her “nooo! Don’t wanna go to bed” you mumble in protest and Wanda chuckles. “Cmon baby you can cuddle with us again and get you into some pajamas. And tomorrow morning we’ll have a great breakfast perfect for little ones like you” Wanda coaxes. 

You narrow your eyes at her and Natasha snorts at your very adult-like facial expression. “Hmmmp fine” you say finally and Wanda beams “can I help you get changed malysh?” Natasha asks and you nod walking with her to your room. She grabs your favorite red heart pajamas and you shimmy out of your leggings and shirt. She helps you step into the pajama pants as you grip her shoulders. Natasha then tugs the shirt over your chest patting your back. “Good job baby” she coos and kisses your cheek. 

You skip with her to the room where Wanda’s already sat down a toothbrush with strawberry toothpaste on it. You brush your teeth while Wanda and Natasha get set up for bed. You finish and hop into bed and Wanda grabs your hand while Natasha links her pinky with yours. “Don’t float off” Natasha repeats and you nod with a giggle before drifting off finally deciding you need this. 

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: Arcane

Pairings: Jayce/Viktor

Tags: mpreg, mention of post-birth pain

I now have two prompt fills that are in progress but not finished (oops). So instead take a “this popped into my head basically fully formed so I had to write it” things – Mel visiting at the hospital after Jayce and Viktor have their first child.

This is a bit more based on modern medical conventions than what I think Arcane would truly be like but, again, not really a thought out thing just words that flowed too easily. Thus it’s really abrupt ending as well. Easy flow stopped then.

---------------

There’s a knock at the door of the hospital room and Viktor is a little surprised to see Councillor Medarda instead of another doctor come to have a final prod at him before they send him home.

“I thought I would come visit. If you feel up to it that is,” she says. Only coming in when he gestures that she can. A wrapped box carried in her hands like an offering. “Where’s Jayce?”

“Currently trying to bully the doctors into prescribing stronger painkillers to go home with.” Mel’s face twists in question at Viktor’s explanation. “We are, ah, not well designed for childbirth.”

“My mother gave birth to me on a battlefield,” Mel says. Quietly enough that Viktor does not know if he was actually aimed at him or not.

“I suppose we are not all your mother then.” The boredom of bedrest the closest to a battle Viktor fought in his pregnancy.

“No, of course,” Mel says with a small shake of her head. She takes the seat next to the bed with her usual grace. The box settled neatly in her lap. Viktor sure he looks a mess next to her, the bags under his eyes deep from sleep constantly disturbed by doctors or his and Jayce’s son and the hospital gown rumpled and baggy on him.

“I would offer you something to eat but I would not recommend the food here,” Viktor says more out of politeness than actually caring about being a good host.

“I will take your word at it,” Mel says, looking around the room at all the flowers and gifts that they had taken to piling along the walls to deal with once they get home and figure out a routine with a newborn. “Have you had many visitors?”

“No.” Ximena had visited a few times, bringing things from their apartment so Jayce wouldn’t have to leave to get them. Sky as well, with updates on their ongoing experiments and things for the both of them so they can continue working as best they can from a hospital room. Councillor Kiramman and her daughter had visited once, Caitlyn looking terrified when she was offered the baby to hold. That was it. “People keep sending Jayce gifts.”

“I’m sure they are for you as well,” Mel says as she looks over them.

“Yes. That is why they all have only his name on them.” Viktor had never been naïve about how people saw him, or rather didn’t see him, next to Jayce. But he will admit to some annoying in the situation on account of how he was the one bedbound from having their child yet Jayce the one getting all the gifts.

Mel’s lips purse.

“Well, I suppose this one can be for you then,” she says, handing the neatly wrapped box onto his lap.

“What?”

“That is what the rule is, isn’t it ­­– I bring you a present and you let me see the baby?” Mel asks, her tone light. “Only if you are comfortable with it of course.”

“I- ah- yes. I am. Just-“ Naph is in the bassinette at the other side of the room and getting out of bed still rather painful and difficult to do. Not something he wants to attempt with an audience.

Jayce thankfully returns before Viktor has to decide with Mel getting Naph herself.

“Jayce,” Viktor says before his partner can get too into detail about how the doctor was going to write a script for some decent pain relief. A nod to Mel thankfully distracting him from that train of thought. “Can you bring Naph over.”

“Of course.”

“I see he’s taking good care of you,” Mel says as Jayce goes to get their son and bring him over.

“I cannot complain.” Viktor is sure the doctors would be glad to see them off if only so Jayce could not continue looming over their shoulders as if double-checking their work whenever they are tending to either Viktor or Naph.

Mel gives him a humoured smile at it.

“Mel would like to hold him,” Viktor says when Jayce goes to hand Naph to him.

“Oh. Right.” Jayce easily switches to hand Mel the swaddle that is their son instead. “Make sure to support his head.”

“Already an over-protective father,” Mel jokes but her hands are careful when accepting their child. Her expression soft when she looks down at him. “Definitively one of the cuter babies I’ve been handed.”

Jayce beams at the praise for their son as false as it probably is. Slipping into the other chair by the bed and reaching to take Viktor’s hand.

“He looks just like Viktor doesn’t he?”

“I can see the resemblance,” Mel says with a quick glance up at Viktor. It is apparently enough for her to remember the gift. “Open it. Please.”

Viktor pulls his hand away from Jayce’s to undo the wrappings, revealing a wooden box with holes of various shapes and blocks matching to them as well as a small plastic hammer.

“I thought if he is anything like his parents he’ll want to find ways to fill any gap he finds. And the hammer reminded me of Jayce.”

“Thank you.” It is nice to receive something that wasn’t just the first cute thing the person had seen. Or flowers.

[legacygirlingreen]

"Lady by the Sea" (1/2) || Tech x OC Marina || NSFW

Author's Note: Hi friends! I wanted to pop in briefly before this one with a few important reminders. This is part of of a larger AU created by my friend @leenathegreengirl and I. Decisions have been and will always be agreed upon mutually, including the way this story was written. As always, she is responsible for the beautiful cover art (full image at the bottom of the text). Additionally, I'd like to take the time to remind readers that I am an autistic adult. I have been diagnosed since I was a young child - shocking since I was a child during the early 2000s when most doctors believed that cases of autism in girls was virtually non existent/only presented in the stereotypical representation of males. And while I'm not trying to reopen the debate on if Tech is/isn't autistic and/or a good representation of autism, I will continue to write him with those tendencies. There are many things I see in myself (and how it manifests for myself personally) in his canon character. Same can be said for how I write Marina. So I wanted to provide some explanation for those who maybe don't have much up close experience with autism. This installment does include stimming. Stimming can be done for a variety of reasons and look different for every person. I stim when I am nervous. I stim when I am angry. I stim when I am happy and the variety of each of those actions differs depending on how I need to regulate my emotions. "Happy stimming" can look different from person to person, but a common form of this is flapping one's hands/arms. I, admittedly struggled to put this action into words and when discussing it with my real life partner he did express that while the body language itself may appear awkward (the movement can look a bit stiff), he still finds it endearing as a person who loves and respects me. I am sure when you reach that portion, you will understand what I am referring to. Additionally, the concept of masking is described in this. While I did not blatantly use words like 'stimming' or 'masking', please note that I hoped to convey these in a way that shows how they act in reality. Autistic people usually learn to mask their more physical manifestations in order to fit in. I am no exception. So when writing this piece it did become a bit cathartic to express Tech learning to overcome 'masking' as he views Marina expressing her own stims without fear or worry. Anyways, I hope that these concepts come across alright - I do struggle to put my experiences as a person who's been diagnosed even after all this time. But I am more than happy to continue the conversation with anyone wanting to know more. Thanks for reading this slightly longer note/disclaimer. Also, this will have a part 2 I plan to get up next Tuesday! Happy Reading, M

Pairing: Tech x OC Marina

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of passionate embraces, mentions of slight childhood bullying, brief mentions of divorce/widowhood

Summary: Tech accompanies his new friend with examining a deep sea fish migration and gets more than he bargained for...

Masterlist | Tech's Encrypted Files | Previous | Next

Tech immersed himself in all material he could find about the mōlī fish migrations, reading up on every documented detail ahead of the evening. All Marina had mentioned was that the creatures surfaced near Pabu’s beaches only once every few years, and that the event itself was a spectacle worth witnessing. That alone piqued his interest—deep-sea fish capable of rising to the surface was an extraordinary phenomenon, especially considering that the pressure of the ocean only shifted enough to allow such a migration in a rare, cyclical pattern.

The fish’s ability to glow with their own internal light as they navigated the depths was both scientifically fascinating and naturally awe-inspiring. To say that Tech was intrigued was an understatement. His mind, always attuned to the marvels of biology and the natural world, buzzed with the possibilities of what he might learn from observing such a rare event.

Ever since that day when Marina had acknowledged his appearance, Tech had begun to feel something strange whenever she was near. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was certainly unfamiliar—an unexpected shift in his usual equilibrium. At times, his heart would race, an irregular thudding in his chest that caught him off guard. His palms would sweat, an odd dampness that seemed to appear out of nowhere. There was a warmth that would spread through his bloodstream, almost as if his body was responding to some hidden signal. And if he happened to look at her for too long, a dizzying lightness would sweep over him, as if the world itself had momentarily tilted.

He couldn't quite make sense of it. These phenomenological responses weren’t things he typically experienced, and they didn't follow the same logic as his usual responses to stimuli. He knew something was happening—he could feel it, this strange stirring within him that didn’t quite fit into any of the categories he usually applied to his own emotional or physical states. But what was it? Perhaps an allergy to a fragrance she wore? That seemed the most likely given he only experienced the changes when she was closer in proximity to him.

Despite the confusion, there was a part of him that couldn’t deny the underlying excitement that pulsed beneath all of it. It was an energy he hadn’t felt before, an electric current that surged through him whenever the marine biologist was near, even if he couldn't pinpoint the exact cause. 

But the strangest part was that he couldn’t explain why this felt so important. He had a tendency to dissect everything in his life, to categorize things, break them down, and understand them through logic. Yet, no matter how much he tried to apply his usual methods of analysis, this sensation didn’t fit neatly into any of his mental boxes. It was as though his mind was searching for patterns, but finding none, which only heightened his fascination. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that when she was around, the world seemed to shift just a little, like everything was suddenly more vivid, more... alive. 

And more than that, he felt an overwhelming sense of ease, as though there was no need to explain himself. The quirks and behaviors he had spent years trying to suppress—the very things that had made him feel alienated, even from those closest to him—suddenly didn't seem to matter. In Marina, he saw reflections of those traits he had long struggled with, the things that had once set him apart in a way that felt isolating. Yet in her presence, those differences didn’t feel like barriers but like an unspoken bond, a quiet understanding between them. The relief was profound, deeper than he realized. It wasn’t just that Marina accepted him; she seemed to instinctively know him in a way that was both rare and deeply comforting. In her, he found a kindred spirit—a mirror of sorts—that reassured him he wasn’t so alone in the world after all.

Marina was more than she appeared. While she had a sharp, scientific mind and a direct approach to life, she also embodied the culture of her people. A native of Pabu—an uncommon heritage, as most were refugees like him—she held tight to their distinctive culture. Her connection to their physical traditions, like tattoos, and her reverence for the moon and tide cycles, reflected a harmony that enhanced both her analytical side as a scientist and her spirituality in a way that was rhythmic. Having never fully been able to do the same, he found it interesting one could walk that line with grace and ease. Particularly the way in which she framed her scientific discoveries as something noble and worthy of protecting simply for their beauty.

It was a quality he was finding increasingly admirable. 

After presenting his findings to Crosshair, Tech had been met with a curt, dismissive response. His brother, in typical fashion, had simply called him a “kriffing idiot” before shutting down any further discussion. Tech, as always, had tried to prod for more details, to understand why his findings—his observations—were being so lightly dismissed. But Crosshair had only shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he said, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Tech, unsurprisingly, had no doubts that he would eventually crack the puzzle. He always did, after all. But the response, or rather, the lack of one, left him feeling oddly disappointed. He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there was something about Crosshair’s refusal to elaborate that gnawed at him. It wasn’t just the dismissive tone—Tech was used to that—but the evasiveness, the unwillingness to help him interpret the strange phenomenon that had been so consuming. His brother’s typical bluntness had given way to a kind of aloofness that felt out of character, and it left Tech feeling as though something important had slipped just out of reach.

Tech wondered if it was stemming from his brother’s proximity to his ex wife. Kayden and Leena were twins after all. Perhaps it had something to do with his loyalty to his fiance and thus her family, that he remained so tight lipped. It also might stem from the one bad interaction that Marina had experienced with Crosshair, getting under his skin in a way Tech knew would be hard to rectify - even if he did believe his brother to be in the wrong. Regardless, Crosshair was not willing to help and that left Tech on his own to figure out what the feelings meant on his own. 

And yet, Tech refused to let the confusion dampen his plans for the evening. He was determined to help his friend with her research, and in doing so, witnessed a rare scientific phenomenon that only a few were privileged enough to observe. The other, more personal aspects of his curiosity—those feelings of comfort that had begun to stir within him—would have to wait. There was no need to try to interpret them just yet, especially when there was so much data to be gathered. He could analyze the rest later, on his own time.

So, as Tech made his way down the familiar island path, his footsteps light but purposeful, he found himself reflecting on the strange sense of urgency that had overtaken him as he prepared for the evening. He had spent more time than usual adjusting his appearance before leaving his domicile—straightening his shirt, making sure his hair didn’t have cowlicks, even using a bit of fragrance he usually found overwhelming. Normally, he didn’t care much for such details, but tonight felt different. There was a subtle pressure to look “right,” though he couldn’t quite articulate why he felt the need.  It was irrational - something Tech rarely allowed himself to indulge - but for some odd reason he couldn’t stop. 

The evening air was cool as he walked, the full moon casting a soft, silvery glow across the horizon. His path was dimly lit by the lamp he carried, the small light barely enough to illuminate the trail beneath his feet. The wind tugged at the edges of his shirt and ruffled his short brown hair, but Tech barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, caught up in the quiet hum of the night and the curiosity that continued to pulse beneath his skin.

As Tech neared the dock, his heart seemed to beat a little faster, his steps subtly quickening as if the evening’s arrival had suddenly become more tangible. The familiar sound of the gentle waves lapping against the shore was drowned out by the heightened rhythm of his thoughts. He was almost there—so close now—and yet, the closer he got, the more acutely aware he became of the small details that he’d never cared about before.

Reaching the end of the path, where the dock stretched out over the water, Tech paused for a brief moment. He took a slow, steadying breath and looked down at himself again, though he knew he had already checked his appearance at least three times before leaving. His shirt—hanging loosely over his waistband, as if that made any difference—felt too tight in some places, too loose in others. His hands hovered awkwardly over his clothes, as if trying to adjust them, but they didn’t need adjusting. His boots, polished to an extent that he rarely bothered with, seemed to gleam in the dim light, too pristine for someone who spent most of his time in the lab or among machinery.

He wasn’t sure what had come over him. He never worried about these small, superficial details. But tonight, as the torch light swayed gently in the wind beside him, something inside his chest fluttered, and he couldn’t stop himself from second-guessing every movement, every decision. Did normal people behave this irregularly in the face of unresolved tension? The thought flickered in his mind before he quickly dismissed it. He was overthinking. He knew that. But even as he tried to calm his nerves, a persistent hum of uncertainty remained.

He glanced at his reflection in the dark water below, seeing only fragments of his face on the moonlit surface. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his appearance, nothing to suggest that this evening was anything different from the others.

Tech took a step onto the dock, the familiar sound of the wooden planks creaking beneath his boots seemed unusually loud in the stillness of the night. His nerves were on edge, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears, and just as he neared the end of the dock, he saw movement ahead. Marina’s head appeared around the corner of the houseboat’s door, just enough for him to catch sight of her. She didn’t step out fully, but her eyes locked on him immediately, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

“You made it,” she called out, her voice carrying a slightly higher pitch than usual. There was a certain brightness in her tone that stood out, almost at odds with her usual reserved demeanor. His heart did a strange little flip at the sound. It was unexpected, and yet, not unwelcome. He had grown used to her more measured, often serious way of speaking, especially when it came to her work. But tonight, her voice carried a volume and enthusiasm that felt almost unfamiliar, and the shift was enough to make his chest tighten. “Come on in,” she added with an encouraging smile. “You’re just in time.”

Tech’s pulse quickened, his legs feeling a little more wobbly than usual as he drew closer. He nodded, though the response felt inadequate, and the sound of his boots hitting the dock again was all that broke the silence between them.

Marina smiled again, this time more softly, before slipping back inside the boat with a quiet rustle of fabric. The door clicked gently behind her, and Tech stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his mind racing with the odd sensation that something had shifted between them in those few seconds. Raising his hands only slightly, he flexed his hand before releasing it as if it would calm his nerves purely through the subconscious act alone.

Tech stepped inside the galley, the lights inside dim, as the boat swayed gently beneath him. He’d expected to find Marina inside, maybe preparing her notes or getting things in order, but as he stepped through the door, he realized she wasn’t there. He frowned briefly, confused, until he heard her voice, light and inviting, calling out from the deck.

“Out here!”

He turned on his heel, setting the torch in his hand on the table while the wooden floor creaked beneath him as he headed toward the back door that led out to the deck. As he stepped outside, the cool night air met him, the wind tugging at his shirt as he squinted into the moonlight, eyes readjusting to the low light.

And then he saw her.

Marina stood near the railing, looking out over the water, the soft glow from the sky casting an ethereal halo around her. The moonlight bathed her in silver, but it wasn’t just the soft illumination of the night that caught his attention—it was her. Her appearance was startling, yet captivating, and for a long moment, Tech stood frozen, unsure how to process what he was seeing.

She wore a flowing skirt that draped loosely around her hips, the fabric cut with slits on both thighs that revealed glimpses of her toned legs as she shifted her weight. The skirt moved with the breeze, and as the fabric fluttered, it drew his eye to the intricate blue tattoos that trailed down her thighs all the way to the tops of her feet, dark lines of color like fluid streaks of ink. 

Her top was not that unlike the kinds of things he’d seen her wear in the past. It was a simple piece, barely covering her chest, leaving the rest of her skin exposed. He was used to her wearing swimwear under wetsuits for diving, and while the shape of this was not far off, the impracticality of no sleeves and just a simple piece of fabric wrapped around her breasts was enticing. The top’s fabric was light and airy, enough to offer coverage but still reveal the smooth expanse of her arms, shoulders, and midriff. 

A gold chain wrapped around her waist, resting just above the waistband of her skirt, its delicate links glinting in the low light. Beneath the chain, Tech’s gaze lingered on the metal along her naval—a small, subtle piercing he hadn’t recalled noticing before, but one that seemed to add to the overall softness of her appearance. 

Her hair, usually tied back neatly when they worked together, was loose tonight, the dark strands swaying lightly in the wind as the few white pieces reflected the moonlight. It framed her face beautifully, soft waves cascading down her shoulders. As he looked longer he noticed the addition of smaller plaits, wrapped in thread or ornamented with more gold cuffs or beads. The sight was so striking that for a moment, Tech’s thoughts scattered, unable to form anything coherent. The combination of her exposed skin, the delicate jewelry, and the raw elegance of her posture was overwhelming.

His breath caught in his chest.

Marina turned slightly, her eyes catching him as she noticed him standing there, frozen in place. Her lips curled into a subtle smile, one that seemed almost playful but also knowing, as if she’d caught him off guard.

“You coming, or are you going to stand there all night?” she teased, her voice light but with an edge of curiosity.

Tech blinked, his gaze shifting away from her exposed skin, though it was almost impossible to look away. His heart raced again, but this time it wasn’t from the excitement of the evening’s research. No, it was something else entirely—something deep in his chest that he had a sinking suspicion he may finally know how to name.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stuck. His brain was sluggish, processing too many things at once. The sound of his boots moving along the deck was the only thing that filled the silence.

As he joined her by the railing, he couldn’t help but steal another glance at her, his mind still reeling. She was breathtaking, but it was more than that. There was a rawness in her beauty tonight, something that made her feel more real, more present than ever before. Sure, he had acknowledged she was objectively attractive, but now that seemed arbitrary. This was a type of transcendent glow he couldn’t quite placate. One that existed simply from one’s own natural beauty and not the artifice of cosmetics but instead existed in sunkissed skin and salt waved hair. 

Marina glanced at him, the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her tone still light, but there was an understanding in the way she looked at him, like she could see right through his awkwardness.

Tech cleared his throat, his hands instinctively moving to adjust the sleeves of his shirt, though there was no need. So his fingers worked their way down to the friendship bracelet woven by Omega along his wrist, fiddling with the frayed strands that hung loose. He swallowed hard, finally managing to say, “You—uh, you look incredible.” His voice came out quieter than usual, and he wasn’t sure if it was the way her appearance had stunned him or if it was something else entirely, but his words felt like they barely scratched the surface of what he really meant.

Marina’s smile deepened, and her eyes softened, almost as if she could hear the unspoken things in his voice, the things he wasn’t saying aloud. She stepped a little closer, the gentle sway of the boat bringing them even nearer to each other.

“Thank you,” she said simply, though her smile held an unmistakable warmth that sent a ripple through Tech’s chest. 

Tech shifted his weight, feeling an awkward tension settle in his chest as he glanced at Marina once more. His eyes, despite his best efforts, betrayed his thoughts, lingering on her for just a second longer than necessary. He cleared his throat once more, trying to divert his focus. "Not that your appearance isn’t appreciated," he started, his words falling a little flat, but he pushed through the discomfort, "but I thought we were going to study the mōlī fish migration tonight. This does not exactly seem suitable for scientific research." He gave her another quick glance, hoping she wouldn’t catch on to the hesitation in his gaze, but he couldn’t help himself. The way the soft moonlight reflected off her exposed skin, the way the gentle sway of the boat seemed to amplify her presence—it was all too much to ignore.

Marina looked at him, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she shifted her gaze downward, fiddling with her hands as if she were suddenly unsure of something, the usual confidence in her posture faltering for just a moment.

She took a slow breath and then glanced back up at him, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t recall saying we were going to study them,” she replied, her voice light but tinged with an edge of playfulness. “I only asked if you would join me in witnessing their rare resurfacing. There is a difference, you know.” Her lips curved into a small, almost apologetic smile, but the shift in her demeanor made it clear that there was something more to her words. Not only that, but that his comment was dulling the odd behavior to which she’d displayed since his arrival. 

Tech blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He had assumed she’d planned to document the event, the way she had so carefully detailed the scientific significance of the mōlī fish migration in the reports she’d given him. But now that she mentioned it, she hadn’t actually said anything about studying them. The realization took him a moment, and he found himself searching her face, trying to read between the lines of her playful tone and the uncertainty that now lingered in her hands.

“So this is not strictly a scientific observation?” Tech asked, his voice quieter than intended, a slight confusion lacing his words as he tried to wrap his head around what she was implying. Her statement seemed to suggest something far more personal—something more intimate—and yet, he couldn't bring himself to vocalize it outright. Instead, his mind raced, wondering if there was more to this night than he had initially understood.

Marina seemed to sense his hesitation, the way he was trying to make sense of everything, and she finally met his gaze. “It’s a chance to witness something rare, Tech,” she said softly. “And I thought it might be more meaningful to share it with someone who... well, who might appreciate it in their own way.” Her words trailed off, leaving an openness that hung in the air between them, and Tech felt his chest tighten, unsure of how to respond.

For a moment, the night seemed to hold its breath, the sounds of the water below and the rustling of the breeze the only thing filling the space between them. He looked down, unsure of what he should say next, his mind still caught on the subtle shift in the tone of their conversation. “I—well, I do appreciate it,” he said, the words feeling inadequate even as he spoke them. “I just didn’t realize it was... that sort of experience."

Marina watched him for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her face. She took a small step closer, her voice lighter, though still laced with a quiet concern. “Tech,” she began, her gaze softening, “if you no longer want to stay... if this wasn’t what you expected... It's okay. I understand if this isn’t the kind of experience you had in mind.”

Her words hung in the air between them, the gentle sway of the boat adding a quiet rhythm to the moment. Tech’s heart skipped, and he immediately felt the weight of her question pressing down on him. The idea of backing out now—of saying that he didn’t want to be here, with her, after everything—felt wrong. His mind scrambled for a response, but his thoughts collided in a haze of uncertainty.

“No, no—” Tech quickly interjected, his voice coming out more rushed and loud than he intended. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “I want to stay. I just misunderstood, that’s all.”

He paused, his words hanging in the air between them, and he watched her carefully, as if searching for some clue that would help him make sense of this situation. Was she angry? Had he said the wrong thing?

“I still do not fully understand,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "What I mean is, I do not understand why something like this—this event—seems to be affecting your behavior. Not in a bad way, of course, I just—" He cut himself off, realizing he was rambling. He wasn’t good at putting his thoughts into words, especially when they were clouded with feelings he didn’t yet fully comprehend.

He looked down at the water, trying to collect himself, the stillness of the ocean beneath them somehow helping to calm his scattered thoughts. The breeze tugged at his sleeves, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could collect his bearings and make sense of it all. “I look forward to uncovering the reason,” he added, his voice more measured now. “If you’re willing to explain it to me, that is.”

It felt like he was asking more than just for an explanation. He wanted to understand her, to understand why this moment—this rare event—was affecting her so deeply. There was more going on here than just the mōlī fish. And, whether or not she admitted it, it seemed tied to something more personal, even if that something wasn’t a detail she was ready to reveal. He was still unclear if it was something from her life directly or if it involved him somehow. 

“I suppose I am acting abnormal to the baseline you’ve come to recognize,” Marina admits, her words trailing off as she pauses. There’s a quiet shift in her demeanor, a subtle vulnerability that Tech can’t quite place. He doesn’t press her, though—he simply watches, his gaze flicking to her from the corner of his eye, noticing the way she draws in a steadying breath.

Then, to his surprise, she reaches out and grabs his forearm. The unexpected contact startles him, and he tenses for a moment before forcing himself to relax. His heart thuds loudly in his chest, but he doesn’t pull away. She seems to sense his hesitation and, after a brief pause, she tugs him gently away from the railing.

“Come on,” she says, her voice soft but resolute. He follows her wordlessly, curious as she leads him to the front of the boat. There, she lowers herself gracefully onto the deck, dipping her feet into the water with a practiced ease as she settles in.

Tech hesitates for a moment, watching her, noticing the subtle tension in her shoulders and the way her movements seem more purposeful than usual. He sits next to her, his boots coming off quickly, socks discarded as he rolls his pant legs up. He mimics her posture, dipping his feet into the slightly chilled water, feeling the coolness of the sea seep into his skin. He hears Marina sigh beside him, the sound soft and heavy with something he can't quite name. Her leg bounces up and down on the lower dock, his eyes tracing the exposed skin momentarily as it moves before they settle on the way she’s weaving her fingers in and out of each other. It’s then Tech realizes she’s perhaps nervous. 

For a long moment, neither of them speaks. The night air hums with a quiet energy, and Tech is keenly aware of the silence that lingers between them, a silence filled with more than just the sound of the waves.

Finally, Marina’s voice breaks the silence, hesitant, as if her words have been waiting to be said for years. “Twenty-eight years ago, my mom went into labor,” she starts, her voice steady but heavy with something unspoken. This is the tone he is used to from her, and not the one she had been adopting the evening thus far. “My father wanted her to seek medical assistance, but she refused. She said the Pabu natives had been giving birth by the sea for generations, and she would uphold that tradition. I was born just as the mōlī fish came up to the surface.”

She pauses, her eyes unfocused as if she’s seeing something far away. Tech stays quiet, letting her find her rhythm. He pictures the scene she’s describing—her mother, the glowing mōlī fish rising from the water, and the life-and-death balance of the moment. Regardless of his own less than organic conception and birth, he still held much regard for the process that natural born people experienced. 

“My father told me,” she continues, her voice quieter now, “that my mom was so happy to see me there, hovering above the water, glowing. And for a moment everything was perfect. In the end she didn’t make it. But she got to experience joy there in the end.”

The words hang between them, heavy and raw. Tech feels a tightness in his chest, the weight of her grief lingering in her tone. He’s not sure how to respond—how to offer comfort without crossing some line. So, he stays silent, simply listening, watching her closely as she opens up, trying to hold on to every word she’s offering as his fingers drum along his leg.

Marina exhales softly, as if the telling of it has exhausted her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Her gaze flickers to him, just for a moment, searching his face as if to gauge his reaction. But she doesn’t wait for him to speak—she continues.

“Despite my more scientific mind,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “I admit to behaving oddly when I witness this event. There is a joy to it. I understand sorrow as it commemorates the passing of my mother would be more appropriate but the grief I feel for her is less in losing someone and more in losing out on the opportunity to know someone so vital to who I am.” She pauses and Tech considers her words. He knew the feeling. Quite well. He - like other clones - were a product of Jango Fett but there was a disconnect from the man that existed. He did not know him, but he was him, at least genetically speaking. That left an odd hole in his existence few could articulate.  

“I wish I had a better descriptor and believe me I certainly have tried to rationalize one. It’s not just the fish, it’s not just the science of it. Seeing this makes me feel connected to my mother. A woman I never knew. This migration... it’s a part of me, in many ways. I understand it is likely just a coincidence in timing, and there is no real reason to put such emphasis on the movement of aquatic life.”

Her words linger in the air, heavy with the weight of everything she’s shared. Tech feels his heart pounding in his chest, his mind struggling to find something to say that could capture the depth of what he’s just heard. For a moment, he simply watches her, taking in the way the water reflects in her eyes. From his position he can only see the lighter of the two. It’s as though the entire night has shifted, the scientific curiosity he’d arrived with now feeling small in the face of Marina’s story. He has no words that feel sufficient to meet the moment, but somehow, he knows that what she’s shared has opened a door to something much more meaningful between them.

Tech swallows, his voice soft yet sincere. “I did not realize. I didn’t understand how much this truly meant to you.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts before adding, “There are times when behavior might seem illogical, but that doesn’t make it any less valid.” His mind drifts back to earlier, when he had almost scolded himself for the extra, seemingly unnecessary effort he’d put into his appearance, and he hopes she’ll understand that he’s acknowledging something important. That sometimes, acting against reason doesn’t make the experience any less real or worthwhile. He, too, occasionally finds himself in that space, where actions defy explanation, and it’s not a bad thing.

Marina doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turns her gaze toward the water, watching the gentle ripples.  The air between them is filled with a quiet understanding, a connection that feels deeper than anything Tech has ever experienced. He doesn’t know how to make sense of everything he’s feeling at this moment, but he knows one thing for sure: he’s grateful she’s shared it with him. Grateful, she trusts him enough to allow him to see this side of her—the one that’s more than just the scientist, the one who carries the weight of her past with grace and quiet strength.

“I apologize for not saying anything earlier. Or if my unnatural behavior is off putting to you in any regard” she admits, her gaze still drawn to the water, though her voice grows just a little more vulnerable. “But... I’m glad you’re here. I was not quite sure why I invited you, but now that you’re here, it feels... right.”

Tech listens intently, his eyes never leaving her face, the quiet moonlight catching the curve of her features. His chest tightens in a way he can't quite place, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like everything else falls away. The gentle sway of the boat, the soft ripples in the water—they all fade into the background, and it’s just the two of them, sharing something unspoken.

She glances over at him then, her expression open, her gaze steady. The depth of her words sits heavily between them, and he feels a strange, pressing need to somehow ease it—to say something that conveys just how much it means that she’s trusting him with this. That he understands that sometimes behavior may be irrational and that is okay. That she shouldn’t feel the need to dull herself for his sake. That she’s making him feel a comfort and acceptance he’s never felt before. But even as he searches for the right words, something else presses on him, a pull that he can’t ignore.

He finds his hand reaching out instinctively, brushing lightly against her arm at first, just enough to confirm she’s still here, still with him. There’s a flash of heat at the contact, one that catches him off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets his hand slip around her shoulder. His palm flattened around the skin, drawing her closer, the movement slightly awkward yet almost urgent. It’s not entirely deliberate, not like he’s thought this through, but something in him just... needs to be close to her.

Marina doesn’t pull away, her breath catching for the briefest moment, but she leans into his touch, just slightly, her warmth against him undeniable. The sensation spreads through him, and for the first time tonight, Tech feels that curiosity that’s been plaguing him slips his mind, so that he can focus on the here and the now.

She doesn’t seem to mind the closeness, and yet her eyes stay focused on the water. But the air around them feels different now, charged. He wonders if she can feel it, too—the way their proximity seems to spark something between them that perhaps started friendly and is now shifting into a place he hadn’t considered.

His voice comes out quieter than usual, the words soft and hesitant, as if he’s afraid to break the moment, afraid that acknowledging what’s happening might somehow make it disappear.

“I’m honored that you trusted me with your story,” he says, his voice huskier than he intends. “I didn’t expect to be part of something so... meaningful to you tonight. Also although I admit your behavior is unexpected I assure you it it is not off putting,”

For a moment, the only sounds are the gentle lapping of the water and the soft rhythm of their breathing, but the silence isn’t comfortable. It’s thick with something unspoken, something lingering between them—something neither seems ready to name.

“Sorry if I overwhelmed you when you were expecting research,” she says, her brow furrowing with concern, as if suddenly realizing the weight of what she’s done.

“Nonsense,” he replies, his words warm, almost soothing. “Whatever’s happening right now is far more important than anything I imagined for this evening. I—” He pauses, watching the way her gaze traces his face before he continues. “I’m glad I came.”

Marina’s smile deepens, soft and tender, a quiet affection blooming in the curve of her lips. She shifts slightly, turning her body more toward him. The opposite shoulder to the one he is holding nestles against his outstretched arm, resting against his bicep. The subtle movement brings her even closer, her side brushing against his, her warmth seeping into him like a fireplace on a cold night.

“I’m glad I get to share this with you,” she whispers, her voice barely a breath, as if the words hold the power to change something between them. Her hands reach up, settling carefully on his shoulders, hesitant, testing his reaction. When he doesn’t pull away, she lifts them higher, the soft contact sending a shiver through him.

Tech feels the delicate pressure of her fingers against the sides of his goggles, her touch tender as she gently slides them off, resting them on his forehead.

The air between them thickens, heavy with all the things neither of them dares to say. His breath catches in his throat as he watches her, unable to look away. The world around them seems to hold its breath, charged with a palpable tension—an unspoken electricity in the space between them. And yet, all he can do is sit there, inches from her, caught in the stillness, the moments stretching, building into something far more than either of them can voice.

Something in him shifts again—an unfamiliar desire to be even closer, to bridge that last small gap between them. He doesn’t know if it’s the way her gaze flickers to his lips, or the warmth in her voice that makes his chest tighten in a way he’s not used to, but before he even knows what’s happening, he moves—slowly, deliberately—his one hand still resting on her shoulder, but now his other hand drifts slightly, brushing against her back. The contact is light, tentative, but the way she leans into it just enough makes his heart race in a way he didn’t expect.

Marina's breath catches as Tech's fingers trace the curve of her back, sending a spark through her skin that seems to resonate with the beat of her heart. The world around them feels still, like a held breath, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background. It's just the two of them, the tension between them thick and palpable, like an unspoken promise hanging in the air.

Tech’s gaze flickers down to her lips, and the space between them becomes so small, so charged with possibility that he can feel it in his chest, in his fingertips. There’s an electric pull, something magnetic drawing him closer, and he leans in slightly, just on the cusp of closing the distance between them. 

Marina’s eyes are locked on him, her pupils dilated, her breath steady but quick. She’s not pulling away. She’s not hesitating either. And that simple truth makes everything feel even more real—more intense. He wants to kiss her. He knows it, and it feels right, and the moment is stretching in a way that makes time slow to a crawl.

But then, just as their faces draw even closer, just as Tech can almost feel the warmth of her lips against his, she gasps, her eyes snapping toward the water with an excitement that almost knocks the air out of his lungs. “Look!” Her voice rises with a mixture of joy and wonder, pointing urgently at the water. Her fingers tremble with excitement as she points toward the glowing light in the distance, the mōlī fish rising to the surface. The air shifts instantly, the moment between them slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Tech follows her gaze, heart still racing, but now the quiet, intimate connection feels like it’s been severed. His eyes take in the mesmerizing sight of the fish, their glowing bodies casting a soft, ethereal light just under the water’s surface, a breathtaking natural phenomenon that he would never have expected to be so enchanting.

Marina’s face lights up, the wonder in her eyes infectious as she watches the fish dance in the water. Her excitement is so pure, so unrestrained, that it fills the space between them, pulling him into the moment with her.

Tech glances at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so animated, so alive with joy. Despite the moment slipping away, despite the rush of disappointment that’s flooding through him, he can’t help but feel a heat spread through his body. She’s so present, so open, and even as the tension between them eases, something else starts to settle in its place—a deeper respect for her in this moment.

As she springs to her feet, a smile as bright as the sun spreading across her face, Tech instinctively pushes himself up to join her. Her excitement is palpable, her eyes shining with awe as more of the glowing mōlī fish begin to surface, gracefully swimming closer to the boat. For a fleeting moment, Tech is completely absorbed in the wonder around them, the sheer beauty of the sight washing over him, making him forget the tension that had nearly clouded the evening. But just as he feels he’s taken in the full splendor of the scene, his gaze shifts, and he catches sight of Marina again.

He’d grown so used to her normal behavior. Marina was calm. She was an overcast sky in the early morning. Still. Subdued. Only occasionally allowing subtle humor to break past her otherwise stoic nature. Her excitement was rare to witness and often came in the form of soft exhales through her nose. She was not robotic per say, but she aligned more with his own behavior. This explosion of emotions was far cry from the woman he had come to recognize.

She’s standing next to him, her eyes wide with pure amazement, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Then, without warning, she twirls on her toes, her arms flung out as if the rush of joy is too much to contain within the confines of her frame. Hands shaking and arms moving up and down like a bird preparing for flight. The movement, albeit a bit unnatural, somehow radiates with him. The sight of her, so unabashedly filled with childlike wonder, almost causes him to lose his balance and tumble into the water, a soft laugh bubbling up in his chest. The fish, radiant in their bioluminescent glow, are undoubtedly breathtaking, but the image of Marina, watching them with such unfiltered reverence, is far more captivating to him given how much it diverges from how she behaves normally.

Tech’s thoughts drifted back to his cadet days, remembering how, in moments of pure elation—whether from a new discovery or a successful training exercise—he would often burst with an energy he couldn’t quite contain. His body would betray him in those moments, trembling with excitement, his hands fidgeting or his feet tapping without his consent. It was natural then, but as he grew older, he began to realize that such outbursts weren’t typical. He wasn’t very old when the awareness started to creep in, and it became undeniable when Crosshair, ever the sharp observer, coined the word ‘odd’ to describe it. He’d mockingly called him "Porg," a nickname that reduced his genuine expression of joy to something silly, something to laugh at. But to Tech, it wasn’t funny. The playful teasing only made him retreat further into himself, and he learned to suppress those exuberant displays of emotion. His joy became something quieter, less noticeable—just the subtle tapping of his leg or the rhythmic rubbing of his hand along his pant leg. Or adjusting his goggles on his face.

Now, watching Marina, he was reminded of how he used to be, before the Kaminoans, the regs, and even his own brothers pointed out the “oddities” in his behavior. There, in Marina’s uninhibited excitement, he saw a reflection of the boy he had been—a boy unashamed of his physical reactions to joy. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d been too harsh on himself, too quick to stifle what felt so natural. The way Marina let herself be fully absorbed in the present, unrestrained by the world’s expectations, made him question whether perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing after all. To be so overwhelmed with joy that it couldn’t be contained, that it spilled out in visible, almost childlike expressions—it wasn’t something to hide. It was, in its own way, a beautiful form of unbridled freedom in the stimulation.

Despite the magnetic pull of Marina’s enthusiasm, Tech knows he would never forgive himself if he didn’t fully appreciate the mōlī migration. With a reluctant sigh, he tears his eyes away from her, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes, ready to dive into the scientific beauty of the moment. The fish’s movement is hypnotic, their delicate, fluid motions like the flicker of flames. The glow they emit is far brighter than he expected, not the soft glow he imagined, but a radiant blaze, as if the creatures themselves are stars come to life beneath the water.

The faint rustling of fabric reaches his ears, and he assumes it’s Marina shifting to get a better view. But then a sudden splash disrupts his focus, pulling his attention back toward her.

Tech’s eyes widen, and his breath catches in his throat as he processes what’s happened. Marina—who was just beside him moments ago, fully clothed—is now in the water. Most of her clothes are gone, replaced by the shimmering glow of the fish, as she giggles and splashes, completely uninhibited. The water around her glows with the same bioluminescence, the fish swirling around her in a dance of light. Though the rippling waves distort her form, the sight is almost painfully beautiful, the contrast of her laughter against the ethereal glow of the sea creating a surreal, intoxicating image.

Tech’s mind races, struggling to process the scene in front of him, but no matter how he tries to focus on the migration, his eyes can’t help but be drawn back to Marina, glowing in the water, a part of the wonder that surrounds them.

His mind struggles to find a foothold, every logical thought slipping away as his gaze lingers on Marina, her laughter echoing softly through the night air. The glow of the mōlī fish reflects off her skin, casting an otherworldly light over her, as if she’s become part of the sea itself. He watches as she lets herself be swept up in the magic of the moment, her movements light and carefree, as if the ocean had swallowed up any trace of the world beyond. The sight is so intimate, so unguarded, that it feels like something he shouldn’t be witnessing.

He takes a step closer to the edge of the boat, unable to tear his eyes away from her as she floats in the water, the gentle waves caressing her. The water around her ripples with a thousand tiny points of light, the fish weaving in and out of her, creating patterns in the depths.

“Marina…” he whispers, almost to himself, but his voice is drowned out by the splash of water as she dives beneath the surface, her form momentarily disappearing into the glowing abyss. The stillness that settles around them feels as though it could stretch on for eternity. Watching her, Tech is overwhelmed by a rush of emotions and memories, each one flooding his mind in quick succession. He is reminded, in a way that feels almost profound, how much he has come to appreciate her presence in his life. The camaraderie they share has only deepened over time, becoming something more than just companionship—something rich, layered, and almost essential. He’s grateful for the way she brings to light forgotten parts of himself, things he had long buried or suppressed.

In this moment, Tech realizes just how much he’s grown to cherish her, even the simple fact that she helps him reconnect with things he hadn’t known he missed. He smiles inwardly at the thought of how he had once been haunted by Crosshair’s teasing of his behavior—those sharp remarks that had driven him to push down his true self. But now, he finds himself longing for a time when he could be so open with his feelings, when such things weren’t a source of shame. And then, there’s the kiss—the one they almost shared just moments ago. The tension lingers, unfinished, a whisper of something deeper, something that still hums beneath the surface.

Then, she emerges again, her hair shimmering with water drops, her eyes sparkling as she surfaces and looks up at him. There’s something in the way she gazes at him, like she’s silently inviting him into her world, the one she so freely shares with the ocean. The one where their minds, behavior and drive are so aligned it is nearly frightening at the implication. She reaches out her hand, her fingers glowing faintly in the light below, and for a moment, Tech feels his heartbeat quicken.

Without thinking, he reaches toward her, his own fingers trembling slightly as he brushes against hers. Marina doesn’t pull away. Instead, she holds his hand, her grip light but firm, as she uses the other to tread water near where he is still on the lower dock. She tugs him gently, her voice soft but urgent. “You should come in,” she says, her words breathy but filled with intent. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

He stands torn, caught between the magnetic pull of the moment and the cautious voice in his mind, still echoing with warnings of what could go wrong. A part of him longs to remain on the sidelines, safely observing her joy from a distance, savoring the comfort of his own space. Furthermore this is something important to her, he hardly wishes to intrude. 

Perhaps it’s the lingering sting of the recent separation, the doubts it has left in its wake. Leena had always asked him to be more spontaneous, to embrace the unpredictability of life, but Tech had never been able to force himself to step into that kind of freedom. The mental block that surrounded the idea of spontaneity made it seem impossible—an unscalable wall. It wasn’t until now, watching Marina in her uninhibited joy, that he began to understand why. He had always thought of himself as adaptable, able to adjust to any situation, yet the idea of exposing himself, of allowing his emotions to spill out freely like Marina did, terrified him. It wasn’t just about the fear of rejection, but the deeper vulnerability that came with it. Even around the people he cared most about—his brothers, who had seen him at his most guarded—it had never felt safe enough to be this open, this raw. Not since he was younger anyway.

But now, in the quiet realization born from watching her, he understood something fundamental. Marina wasn’t afraid to be herself in these rare moments, to express her emotions without hesitation, and in that, she mirrored him in ways few could. The way he was wired—his need for order, his logical approach to everything—could be celebrated, not hidden away. Yet, on the flip side that he could be a logical person who did on occasion experience the illogical. There was no shame in being different, in feeling things deeply and allowing those feelings to show physically. The quietness of his own emotional expression had always felt like a burden, but watching her now, free in her own display of joy, he realized it was a strength—a part of himself that could be embraced because she was so alike him in all his other moments.

Perhaps it’s also the unexpected depth of his own growth—growth that had crept up on him quietly, unnoticed, until he found himself living it in real time. The ease with which he now shared his thoughts, the vulnerability that had once felt foreign to him, felt like a revelation. It was the kind of openness he had never thought himself capable of, and yet here he was, offering it to a new friend with a comfort he hadn’t anticipated. Maybe it’s simply the way Marina—this fiercely honest, no-nonsense marine biologist—had just giggled, her laughter spilling out in a raw, unguarded way that felt as though it could never be contained. The sound was unpolished, loud, awkward even, yet there was a purity to it that resonated deeply within him. For the first time, he understood what it meant to let go completely, to embrace joy in its most unrefined form.

But as he watches her there, bathed in the soft glow of the bioluminescent fish, surrounded by the starlit sky, something inside him shifts. In that moment, a realization settles deep within him: he doesn’t want to just observe anymore. He doesn’t want to remain on the sidelines of his own life. He wants to be part of it. He wants to feel this—the uncontained excitement—just as she does. He yearns to be someone who is steady and structured, yes, but also someone who isn’t afraid to let his emotions rise to the surface without hesitation. Not because it’s expected of him, but because, for the first time in a long time, he understands that it’s the person he wants to be. The person he is becoming.

Watching Marina now, he feels a bridge forming to the boy he had once been on Kamino, the one who could laugh freely and celebrate his small victories without fear or shame. That boy, once buried beneath years of self-restraint and calculated detachment, stirs within him. For the first time in years, Tech feels a connection to that part of himself he thought was long gone.

Tech realizes, with quiet clarity, that he has grown tired of allowing his need for structure and control to keep him from fully engaging with the world. He had never fully processed the association of the fear of rejection with his inability to express joy, especially with Leena. When she had pointed out his emotional reserve, his reluctance to embrace spontaneity, he had convinced himself it wasn’t about her—about meeting her needs—but about the deeper, more internal fear that had plagued him for so long. The fear of making himself too large, too visible, too vulnerable. The fear that if he let himself go, even for a moment, he might damage the relationships he cherished.

It was an illogical fear, he knew that now. He understood that Leena, with her kind heart, would have accepted him for who he was, no matter how restrained or intense his emotions were. But understanding and acceptance, he realized, were two very different things. Leena’s kindness had never been in question, but he wasn’t sure she could ever truly understand him—not in the way he needed her to. And that, he knew, wasn’t a failing on her part. Few, if any, could understand him in that way. The diversion from his ‘normal’ behavior as a child had always felt harsh. But as for his relationship to Leena in that regard, he was to blame, for never giving her—or anyone—the chance to see him for all that he was in his adult life. He’d been too prideful and too guarded.

The difference now, however, is that Marina’s natural alignment with his usual subdued nature, combined with this brief but undeniable indulgence in behavior outside of the norm, offers a sense of security that he’s been searching for. It makes the idea of finding equilibrium feel less elusive, as though it’s finally within his reach. The overwhelming effect feels freeing. Like a mask falling away almost.

Without another word, Tech begins to pull off his clothes. His movements are swift, almost instinctive, the need to be in the water—closer to her—growing more urgent with every passing second. He sheds his shirt, his pants, until he's left only in his undergarments. The cold air rushes against his bare skin, and for a moment, he hesitates, but Marina's eyes never leave him. There's no judgment in her gaze, only quiet encouragement, like she’s waiting for him to take this leap. 

In the final moment, he hesitates before removing his goggles. Part of him wants to keep them on, to let the ever-present recording device capture this moment for eternity. But something within him holds him back. He wants to remember this moment—not as footage, but as a memory. It feels too significant to store anywhere other than his own mind. With that thought, he takes them off, switches off the device, and sets the goggles gently down on the deck. 

He steps toward the edge of the boat, his heart racing in his chest, and then, with no more hesitation, he jumps.

The water greets him like an old friend—cool, enveloping, and vast. As he plunges beneath the surface, the world above him vanishes, swallowed by the deep. The water rushes over his head, and for the briefest moment, the world goes still. It’s as if everything that had weighed him down—the doubts, the fears, the things he couldn’t control—suddenly disappears, dissolved in the embrace of the ocean. It’s a release, a cleansing he hadn’t known he needed, as though the water was washing away all that had kept him bound to the edges of himself. 

Tech spent much of his early life on Kaminon, gazing down at the vast, murky depths of the ocean that surrounded the facilities. The cold, isolating waters seemed to stretch endlessly, a constant reminder of the distance between himself and the world beyond. Life there was quiet, distant, and impersonal. But Pabu... Pabu was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a place of warmth, a stark contrast to the chill of Kaminon’s waters. The island felt like an embrace, welcoming him with its vibrant energy—pure, unspoiled paradise. However, this side of Pabu, where science intertwined with something deeper, something far more personal, was beginning to leave a profound impression on him. Every passing moment only deepened the impact, and Tech couldn’t help but feel the pull of something greater taking root inside him.

For a long breathless moment, he’s suspended in the glow of the bioluminescence, his body weightless and free, surrounded by the quiet hum of the sea. The light from the fish swirls around him, lighting up the dark water like scattered stars in the night sky, and it feels like the world has opened up in a way he never expected. 

When he resurfaces, gasping for air, the sound of Marina’s laugh is a gentle echo, filling the space between them with something light to break the tension. Her eyes are wide with wonder, watching him with that same unguarded joy. For a moment, neither of them speaks, the silence between them thick with the shared understanding that nothing needs to be said. They’re here, together, and that’s all that matters.

He swims up beside her now, the water rushing over his skin in waves, feeling as if he’s shedding old versions of himself with each stroke. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the fresh air tasting sweeter somehow. He looks at Marina, her face illuminated by the glow of the fish, and a thought flits through his mind: This is what living is supposed to feel like.

Tech had always been starkly aware of the artifice that surrounded his existence. He was a clone, modified in an impersonal lab and a product of science. Natural borns always seemed to contain a distance from him - they were born usually of a loving dynamic. They were blessed with the ability to age naturally. And although his friend had found a way to slow the effects of the aging process, it felt daunting to be granted a normal life. The weight of his past—of the mistakes, the distance he himself constructed, the doubts he held about himself—seems small now, insignificant in the face of this. The only thing that matters is the water, the stars, and the woman beside him, so effortlessly radiant in her joy. 

Tech’s heart pounds in his chest, the pulse a constant thrum that resonates deep within him. The water is cold, the stars overhead seem distant and infinite, but it's Marina's presence that’s pulling him in, urging him to move closer, to close the space between them. It's not just about the warmth of her body, or the desire to be near her. It’s the need to feel something, anything, that’s real. The weightlessness of the water, the energy crackling between them, it’s too much to ignore, too much to just let hang there, especially when inside his mind is screaming ‘thank you’ over and over again for making him feel more seen than he ever has in his life.

He reaches out, his hand brushing against her arm. His fingertips feel a spark, like the air between them is charged, and the contact sends a rush of heat through him. He’s never felt this kind of urge before—this desperation to just be closer, to press into her, to feel her, to know she’s there, anchored and alive next to him. It’s as though he’s been starved of physical connection for so long, and now, with her so near, it’s like every inch of his body is screaming for it.

“Marina,” he says, his voice tight, rough with the need that’s building inside him. “I—” He swallows, the words tangled in his throat, unsure how to articulate this raw, overwhelming feeling. But he knows one thing: the space between them just became charged with a need for something physical. His chest aches with the craving to be closer, to feel her warmth, the reality of her proximity like a release of something that’s been buried deep in him for too long.

Marina looks at him, her gaze steady, and for a moment, it’s as if she’s waiting for him to make the first move. Without thinking, he closes the distance between them, his hand finding her arm, his fingers wrapping around her like he's trying to ground himself. He feels the slight shiver of her skin under his touch, and it only makes the urgency build. He can’t pull back, can’t stop himself.

Marina’s hand lands on his chest, just above his heart, and the simple touch sends a tremor through him. The sensation reverberates through his entire body, and it's almost overwhelming, how much he needs to feel her, how much he needs something real in the midst of the quiet chaos swirling inside him. He leans in, his movements sharp, as if he can’t help himself, like the pull to her is magnetic, primal.

His hand moves to the back of her neck, fingers digging lightly into her skin, and it’s all he can do not to pull her entirely into him. He needs the contact, needs to close the gap, to feel the solidity of her presence in a way that settles the wildness inside him. The space between them has become unbearable, a tension he can’t release, and as he presses closer, her body beneath his fingers feels like the only thing that can ground him.

They don’t speak, not yet. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unacknowledged, but neither of them moves away. Instead, Tech closes his eyes for a brief moment, just to feel her—her warmth, her breath, the way her body shifts against his, anchoring him to this shared experience. And in that moment, with the rush of water surrounding them, with the glow of bioluminescence swirling around them like stars, he realizes that he’s no longer just existing. He’s alive, and this need, this undeniable pull, has nothing to do with the past or the future. It’s just the here, the now, and the quiet hum of the connection between them.

The only thing he knows is that he needs this physiciality—her—and for once, he's not afraid to reach for it.

Despite the challenge of maintaining his balance while treading water, Tech's focus sharpens as his hand slides down to her lower back, his fingers pressing into the warmth of her skin. With a surge of passion, he pulls her toward him with a strength, crashing his lips onto hers. In that instant, as though overcome by a wave of pure euphoria, she mirrors his intensity, returning the embrace with equal fervor. The world around them blurs, their connection crackling in the water like an electric charge, each kiss more desperate, more consuming than the last.

Tech can feel Marina’s fingers carding through the hair on the back of his head, her nails scratching through to his scalp. The feeling makes him groan at how electrifying the stimulus is. In return his grip on her back grows more intense, his fingers digging into the toned skin. He can feel her pressed against the entire length of his body. The chain around her waist, the piercing of her navel, and-

He pulls away quickly, mind having caught up with the experiences his body was undergoing. He laughs. Loudly and awkwardly as it feels foreign to do so. His hand shifted from her shoulder to cup one of her breasts, illuminated by the glow around them. “My, this is a fascinating discovery,” he hummed out, enjoying both the weight and size of her breast in his palm, but also the way the small metal through her peaks caught the light. His thumb trails over the stud and the sound of the purr leaving her lips renews that need once more. “Tech…” she whispers, head lulling back as she gives him more room to notice the way dark hair clings to her shoulder or dimples appear in the corner of her cheeks. The thin white scar running across her chin catches his eye as his thumb trails over the line. 

“You are positively exquisite,” he hums out, lips finding her pulse as he continues to let his hands roam. Everything is soft skin, cool lapping water and the beauty of nature around them. But then he hesitates. “Is it alright to keep going? I hadn’t fully anticipated how much emotional weight this could carry for you, especially with your past and your grief. I want to make sure I’m being respectful of that,” he says thoughtfully.

She looks at him for a moment, as if pondering the words. Tech briefly wonders if he has ruined this wonderful experience by asking but just when he goes to once again speak her hands grab him, dragging him beneath the waves as Tech holds his breath. He soon feels her lips pressing against his once more, this time under the waves. Near his feet he can feel the occasional fin of one of the mōlī fish swimming closer to them. That all fades as both his hands cradle her face, attempting to maintain the connection as long as possible with the buoyancy pushing them to the surface. 

His legs tangle with hers, her hair moving around the two of them as he feels the full extent of her soft skin. Marina’s one hand settles on his shoulder as the other lands just above his waist, her chest firmly pressed against his own. Opening his eyes ever so slightly he can only make out the brief shape under the haze of the salt water as it burns his eyes but with the glow of the fish and her body so close he does not care. 

Before long, the need for air catches up with them, pulling them both back to the surface. Tech gasps deeply, filling his lungs, and Marina does the same, her eyes fluttering open once more.

“While I appreciate your concern, I assure you I am no blushing maiden,” she says with a smile. “This may not have been my agenda tonight, but the deviation is certainly pleasant.”

Tech chuckles, a sound that feels lighter than it has in a long time, as he instinctively pulls her waist closer, their bodies still aligned as they tread water in the gentle ebb of the waves. The ocean tonight is unusually calm, soothing in its quiet rhythm, and he finds himself grateful for the stillness.

The moment lingers between them, and for the first time, Tech realizes something he hadn’t before. It hadn’t been until that moment earlier—the fleeting second when he almost leaned in to kiss her—that he understood the desire that had been quietly building inside him. He hadn’t known he wanted to kiss her until that exact moment, but now, the feeling is undeniable, like a spark igniting within him. He hadn’t expected it, hadn’t planned for it, but as he holds her close, the sensation feels natural, almost inevitable. He feels the pull of something deeper than mere camaraderie, something he hadn’t let himself recognize until now.

Crosshair was right. He did figure it out. 

Tech hesitates for a moment, the weight of the moment settling around them. He pulls her a little closer, his voice quieter now, the sincerity clear.

"I really enjoyed that," he admits, his words slipping out before he can stop them. "More than I expected, honestly." He looks down for a moment, then meets her eyes, the hesitation still lingering. "But I want to make sure—did you mind? Was it too much?"

Marina holds his gaze, her expression thoughtful. After a beat, she shakes her head, her voice steady but soft. "No, I didn’t mind. It felt natural. Unexpected, but not unwelcome."

A wave of relief washes over Tech, but then something else rises within him, something he hadn’t anticipated. He shifts slightly, his brow furrowing as he considers her words. "I have to ask," he says quietly, "Is this the first time you’ve done something like this, since Keiron?"

The question hangs between them, sensitive and careful, but it feels right to ask. He doesn't mean to pry, but his concern for her feels more important than his own discomfort.

Marina’s expression changes, a flicker of something he can’t quite place passing through her eyes. She takes a deep breath, her gaze dropping for just a moment before she looks back at him, her voice softer now.

"No," she says slowly. "I’ve maintained a few casual physical relationships since Keiron. Nothing serious, nothing like this." She pauses, her gaze steady, vulnerable in a way Tech hadn’t expected. "What we just shared is certainly more gratifying. It’s more than I thought I was ready for, but at the same time, it feels right."

Tech takes in her words, feeling a warmth spread through him, tempered with an understanding that runs deeper than he anticipated. He nods slowly, meeting her gaze, as if trying to take in everything she’s just shared.

Tech feels a wave of something new course through him, and it’s not just the gentle pull of the ocean around them. The air between them feels different now, the unspoken tension palpable in a way that’s impossible to ignore. He searches her face, looking for some indication of what’s next.

“Marina,” he begins slowly, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I don’t think we can just pretend that didn’t happen. That moment. The way it felt.”

She meets his gaze, steady but thoughtful, clearly processing the same thing. "No, I don’t think we can," she agrees quietly, her voice clear, but there’s a certain weight to her words. "It’s strange, isn’t it? How quickly things shifted. But it didn’t feel wrong. Not for a second."

Tech lets out a breath, his chest a little tight but he appreciates her honesty. "I don’t know if this is how we expected things to go, but... it felt important. Even if it wasn’t part of some grand, traditional idea of what this is supposed to look like."

Marina nods, her lips curling slightly into a soft, knowing smile. "I’ve never been one for the 'song and dance' of romance," she says with a quiet laugh. "I think we’ve both spent enough time trying to live by everyone else’s expectations." She pauses for a moment, her eyes flicking away to the horizon before returning to him. "But this—what just happened—feels like it should be part of what we’re building. Not in spite of what’s come before, but because of it. We don’t need to complicate things with rules that don’t fit us."

Tech takes in her words, a light dawning in his chest. "So you believe we should alter this arrangement, then? Make it something more physical? Even if it’s undefined, without the typical build-up or structure?"

She shrugs, her expression open. "Why not? You and I are unlike everyone else in many ways. And sometimes the most honest connections are the ones that don’t follow a script." She pauses, then adds, "If that’s what you want,"

Tech feels a sense of relief, mixed with a deep sense of understanding. "I think I do," he says quietly, the words simple but carrying a weight of truth. "I think I’ve been fighting it, mostly because I truly didn’t understand what I was feeling, but this feels like something we should lean into. Even if it’s not how others would expect."

Marina smiles, the tension between them easing as she moves a little closer. "Then let’s stop fighting it," she says, her voice low and assured.

Tech looks at her, his expression serious now, the weight of the conversation settling in. "I agree but," he begins, his voice quiet but firm, "I want you to know... with all of this being so... undefined between us, we’ll have to be honest with each other. No matter what happens."

Marina tilts her head, her gaze never leaving his, as if trying to read the depth of his words. She doesn’t rush to respond, but her eyes soften, a subtle understanding passing between them.

"I mean it," Tech continues, his brow furrowing slightly. "If we’re doing this, whatever that may entail, I need to know we can always talk—no matter how messy or complicated things get. I don’t want to end up misinterpreting something or leaving anything unsaid."

Marina nods slowly, her expression thoughtful but open. "I agree," she says, her voice steady. "I do not intend to play games. If we’re going to do this, we need to be able to be upfront about what we want, what we need even when it’s uncomfortable." she paused for a moment before chuckling and saying, “although you’ve been fairly blunt with me, as I have with you, so I do not perceive it to be a problem,” 

Tech lets out a soft laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing at her words. There’s a small, reassuring comfort in her response, something that makes him feel more certain about the path they’re stepping onto, even without a clear map.

“You’re right,” he agrees, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Bluntness is definitely something we seem to have in common.” His gaze softens as he looks at her, his voice becoming more earnest.Tech takes a small, measured breath, his mind ticking through the conversation with a careful precision. As much as the moment feels natural, the lack of structure still pulls at him, and his desire to understand everything clearly urges him to address it head-on.

"Marina," he begins, his tone calm but purposeful. "Before we proceed any further, I need to ask. Do you have any preferences when it comes to the physical aspects of a relationship? Boundaries, expectations, or anything that’s important to you?"

Marina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if assessing the seriousness of his question, before giving a small nod. She seems unbothered by the clinical nature of his inquiry, perhaps even appreciating it. "I think it's important to be clear about things," she responds, her voice steady but thoughtful. "I’ve had casual experiences, as I mentioned, but nothing that had a real depth or consistency. Certainly nothing with this level of familiarity. So, I suppose I don’t have any rigid preferences, but I’d want to make sure things are mutual, respectful. I don’t need anything to be forced, and I don’t want it to feel transactional. You know me well enough to recognize that I would likely be honest about liking or disliking certain kinds of physical affection," She pauses, her gaze meeting his with a quiet intensity. "Does that make sense?"

Tech nods slowly, processing her words with his characteristic focus. "Yes," he says, his voice softening slightly. "That makes sense. I don’t want anything to feel rushed or uncomfortable. And I don’t want to make assumptions. If we’re going to move forward, I need to know that we’re both aligned on what we’re comfortable with." He looks at her directly, making sure she knows he’s fully listening, waiting for her response.

She tilts her head slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she considers his words. "I think the most important thing for me is communication," she replies, her voice steady. "Being open about what we want and making sure we’re both on the same page as we move forward. I’m not expecting this to be a traditional relationship, but if it’s something we want to continue, I need to know we’re being honest about what we need physically."

Tech takes a moment to process her answer, feeling a weight lift off his chest. The clarity of the conversation feels grounding, even if the connection between them is still undefined. "I agree," he responds, his voice more measured. "I don’t want to take any step without being sure we’re both comfortable and genuinely consenting to it."

There’s a brief pause, the air between them feeling calm but charged with the weight of what they’ve just discussed. Finally, Marina nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Good. I think that’s a good foundation. We’ll take it one step at a time and speak freely."

Tech meets her gaze, his mind finally easing from its earlier tension. "One step at a time," he agrees, his tone steady but sincere. "And if anything changes, we’ll talk about it."

The simplicity of the arrangement feels like a solid beginning. There are no grand promises, no rush, just the understanding that whatever happens, they’ll navigate it together—honestly, carefully, and with mutual respect.

Before either of them can say more, he finds himself pulling her gently into an embrace, his arms slipping around her waist as the waves continue their steady rhythm around them. The water around them shifts with the movement, a soft swirl of sensation as they float, bodies close but not suffocating.

For a moment, Tech feels the weight of everything—the complexities, the unspoken things—seem to vanish. It’s just them now, this quiet, shared space in the water where they don’t have to explain anything, don’t have to fit any particular mold.

Marina lets out a soft sigh, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders as she leans into him. He feels the warmth of her body through the coolness of the water, the rhythm of their breathing synchronized in a quiet pulse.

“It’s strange,” she murmurs after a beat, her voice almost lost in the hush of the night. “I never thought I’d find someone who... just understands. No expectations. No need for grand gestures. Or even explanations of aspects of who I am.”

Tech exhales slowly, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t think I would either.” He pulls her in a bit closer, just enough to feel the reassurance of her presence. “But this feels right. This... uncomplicated but comfortable space.”

Her head rests against his, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle lapping of the water against their bodies. It's a simple connection, but there’s something so deeply profound about it. No words are needed, just the quiet understanding that whatever this is, it’s real.

He closes his eyes for a second, letting the sensation of the moment settle within him. When he opens them again, Marina is still there, her gaze soft, her expression peaceful. It’s as though the uncertainty has melted away, leaving only the quiet certainty of their shared space in the water.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet but filled with meaning. “For allowing me space to feel comfortable,”

Tech shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Ironic,” he pauses with a small shake of his head and a chuckle, “I was going to say the same to you.”

She returns the smile, and for a brief moment, everything feels perfectly balanced. Whatever happens next, he knows they’ll continue to navigate it side by side.

As the ocean gently rocks them, Tech tightens his hold on her, not out of need, but because he wants to. He wants this—whatever it may turn into. Nudging his head along hers, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he can let go of the weight of expectation, allowing himself to simply be present.

Unguarded.

As a Reminder this Lovely Art is by @leenathegreengirl!

NEXT Part>>>> HERE

[accio-bagel]

✧ MC Intro Post ✧

I finally filled these out for my lil criminal 💚

Explanations & more info (ramblings) + her presets below the cut for anyone interested.

✧ Family ✧

Does not talk about it. Will either be evasive about her history or outright lie about it if asked. An only child born to parents who didn’t want her, and when it became apparent she had no magic they cast her out as a Squib. Hadn’t spoken or seen them since, and has no idea whether they're alive or not. Never fitting into the wizarding world or muggle society, she always dreamed of a better life for herself - the life she was supposed to live at Hogwarts.

Struggling to take care of herself after being abandoned by her family, she resorted to petty crime to survive, then more often upon discovering she was rather good at it. At age 15, her first accidental magic outburst involved a chase with authorities after pressing her luck one too many times, resulting in Fig finding her on the streets of London, panicking after she'd suddenly turned a policeman into a chicken. Professor Dad Fig took her in during the summer before term began at Hogwarts.

✧ Patronus ✧

Some associations with crows: gregarious, intelligent, creative problem-solvers, mysterious, deceptive, mischievous, manipulative, intuitive, and adaptable. Symbolic of community and loyalty, change and transformation, magic and the supernatural. Conflicting interpretations as harbingers of death or omens of fate, destiny, and good luck. They never forget a face, and will reward those who help them or may punish those who harm them. I also couldn't resist the connection between crows' habit of stealing and collecting shiny objects, and of course a flock of crows is called a Murder. 

✧ Classes ✧

She loves learning magic now that she's got the opportunity. Strives to do well at Hogwarts and wants to impress her professors and peers. Open-minded about magic of all kinds.

Charms is her absolute favorite, the most useful and enjoyable form of magic for her. Defense follows closely, as she's got an innate gift for dueling and developed a bit of an ego about it - especially enjoys teasing Sebastian about kicking his ass. Ever pragmatic, she also knows how important the subject is and wants to add to her repertoire of spells.

It's not her strongest subject naturally, but she loves Potions. She can follow a recipe well and works hard at it. While she finds Garreth's experiments interesting and doesn't mind stealing for him, for her own self-preservation she doesn't ever sit at his station, nor will she risk Sharp's wrath again by stealing from his office. Everyone knows she is Sharp's favorite student by the year's end, though he denies it.

History isn't uninteresting to her - it’s just Professor Binns is too boring for her to stay awake through class.

✧ Personality ✧

😉 Charismatic and persuasive, comes across as highly confident (faking it til she makes it.) She isn't shy about walking up to talk to someone she finds interesting, loves spending time with a small group of friends, and prefers a partner in crime on her adventures. That said, she is quite independent and needs plenty of alone time to think and recharge.

🧠 She prefers efficient, not lazy. She's highly active with her chosen activities and will take the lead naturally, but it has to be worth her while for her to put in the effort. She'll also take nearly any advantage given to her, especially in high-stakes situations.

💁🏻‍♀️ She wishes she were stylish and tidy, but it doesn’t come naturally and she hasn’t got the time (would rather get the extra 10 minutes of sleep in the mornings.) She starts the day looking relatively put-together, but you'll usually see her looking disheveled from running around, waistcoat askew, hair coming loose, boots dirty, possibly a bit banged up from her adventuring. Leaves half-drunk cups of coffee lying around the RoR and laundry on her dormitory floor. Handwriting is atrocious, she uses an enchanted quill to make her essays legible.

😾 Not that grouchy but can't say she's very nice, either. She isn't taking on extra tasks just out of the kindness of her heart - she needs to get paid or receive something else in exchange. Snarky and sarcastic, somewhat selfish, mocks/teases/messes with people (told Zenobia she’d keep her gobstones, then said jk lol, and gave them back.) Anger issues rage blackouts when pushed to her limit. She's got soft spots though - especially for animals/beasts, orphans, and freckles. Will do anything for her closest friends even if she gives them a hard time.

🤔 Generally weighs the risks of what she's getting herself into before acting. Stealthy and strategic, usually likes to silently petrify a few enemies to even the odds before taking on a group. She's prioritizing protecting herself and her friends rather than foolishly charging into unnecessary danger, balancing out her more reckless companions. Again, if one of her loved ones is in danger she won’t hesitate to dive in and help them.

😏 Mischievous, jokes a lot, a bit silly. Likes breaking rules. She's made many a daring escape with a smile on her face, will turn to her mates and laugh together once they've made it out alive. Taunts and goads her opponents in duels to throw them off. While very capable of deep thoughts and feelings, she covers hurt with humor and doesn’t often let it show.

🏃🏻‍♀️Athletic. Fast runner and climber, she regularly outpaces Sebastian “out-of-breath” Sallow on their outings. An evasive and agile fighter, swiftly dodging all over the place before striking. Quick on a broom, joins the Quidditch team in sixth year as Keeper (and acknowledges the irony here.) Has her clumsy moments when she's not paying attention or had too many Butterbeers, accidentally breaking a vase at the bottom of the stairs in the Slytherin common room on more than one occasion.

✧ Extras ✧

Scent: green apple and lilac

Bisexual who flirts with everyone, to the point that it's hard to tell when she actually means it. No time to properly court anyone during fifth year but she has many fleeting fancies and won't readily admit to real feelings. All of this inevitably leads to confusion on all sides.

Goes insane for the food at Hogwarts after years of barely scraping by, eating stolen food and scraps. Always snacking to keep her energy up with how much running around she does. If she misses a meal, something is very wrong. 

Funny (at least she thinks so) and uses humor as a coping mechanism.

Loves cats. Pets all the cats.

Loves puns and will give a genuine laugh at a particularly good one.

Constantly running late, much to the chagrin of all her friends.

Drinks like a fish and smokes an occasional cigarette. Swears like a sailor.

Likes to dance but isn't very good at it.

As Sharp says, Wiggenweld doesn't fix everything, so I imagine her gaining quite a few permanent scars over the course of her fifth year. Significant mentions are a cut brow courtesy of Rookwood and some burns on her body from Solomon.

After her hair was partially singed during the battle with Ranrok, she cut it short for a drastic change.

Girl is not doing very well after everything she went through, especially losing Fig. Not sleeping, not eating enough, and prone to thousand-yard stares. She will need time to heal, plus a lot of help from her new chosen family.

✧Future ✧

Ellie is very ambitious and she knows her strengths. She wants to live up to the reputation she's built for herself as a powerful witch, and wants to be known for more than what she went through in her fifth year. Taking time to make a name for herself as a Curse Breaker, she'll spend several years in the field before coming back to Hogwarts as Charms Professor when Ronen retires.

💚 If you have read any of this, I love and appreciate you so much! I have more to say about her but this was already too long so maybe I’ll do a part 2 or something.

✧ Presets ✧

5th Year:

6th Year changes:

[smilesatdawnmain]

a question from the Author of the tragedy of the six how would you define the boys' personalities? (English is not my original language, I don't know if it will be understood)

Oh my gosh okay okay! I put a summary of how they are in the Tragedy of Six Au below~

-- Red Son:

As the oldest member of the group, Red Son takes his responsibilities very seriously. He is often trusted to watch over the others and as a result, has become quite strict when it comes to following rules. Though he may come across as overprotective, it's only because he cares so deeply for the well-being of his peers. Despite having a quick temper, Red Son always keeps stress toys on hand to help him manage his anger. In fact, he goes through so many that he has quite a collection. However, one thing that can easily soften his demeanor is seeing something cute. This is especially true with the younger children in the group; their innocence and adorableness make it hard for him to stay mad at them, and he often lets them have their way.

He can be stern and serious, but it's evident that he wants to let loose and experience life as a normal child. He yearns to fully immerse himself in the things he enjoys and openly express his passions, but fears letting himself be too open like that. Only the other children can draw out his more playful sides and creativity when it comes to machines.

Fully aware of the wild and unpredictable nature of his powers, he dedicates himself to mastering them. He is deeply afraid of what he could do if he lost control. In his mind, the woman known as LBD is not a mother figure, but a savior. He clings to the belief that she saved him from certain death after being abandoned by his birth parents, still having faint memories of them and a flash of… burning his Mother. He cannot remember anything after that other than screaming and fire.

During missions, Red Son is the one who stays focused and ensures that they stay on track. He does not allow himself to become distracted by the wonders of the outside world.

Mei is often the person he confides in the most, as she has a completely different demeanor from his own. He finds that her contrasting nature helps to ease his worries and fears.

Emerald:

Even though he is the second oldest, he's always been the smallest one in the group. With his fluffy hair and gentle demeanor, he's often likened to a tiny ball of cotton. He's a kind and caring soul, but he startles easily and lacks the strength of the other children. He's painfully aware of this, especially since LBD never misses a chance to belittle him.

Although she treats all the children with a maternal warmth, Emerald can feel the distinction in her treatment towards him. He tries his hardest to earn her love and approval, but nothing seems to work. This has created Guilt Complex in him, making him constantly question if he's at fault for everything and refrain from defending himself when wrongly accused.

He struggles a bit with Body Dysmorphic Disorder, constantly aware of his physical differences from the other children and trying to seem more… normal, such as hiding his ears with a his hoodie or tucking in his tail. Whereas they are easily identified as specific animals - a bull, a monkey, a dragon - he is both lion and dragon. This uniqueness causes him great discomfort and he has no explanation for it. He usually keeps these feelings to himself, only sharing them with Bai He in hushed tones.

The outside world is a scary place for him, thanks to the manipulation and deceit of LBD that has plagued his mind. He may follow the other children out to experience it, but he always stays close by their side, seeking comfort from Red Son, Mei or MK- as he deems them the strongest in the group.

Interacting with strangers and making new friends is a challenge for him, but within his family, he never stops talking and engaging with them, coming out of his shell to show is very bright and bubbly personality.

He holds a phobia to the Emperor of the Celestial realm, Azure Lion- due to the lies of LBD.

Mei:

As the third child in the family, she is known for her mischievous spirit. With no memory of her origin, she often leads the way in their escapades alongside Xiaohua. She is fearless, outspoken, and a bit impulsive when it comes to trying new things. While most would heed Red Son's stern warnings, she charges ahead driven by her love for adventure and fun. As a result, the rest of the group typically follows along with Red Son's objections ignored.

Although she does call LBD “Mother,” it is more of a title than a term of endearment used for a parent. In reality, her true father figures are Nezha and Erlang - and that’s how she sees them, despite Erlang stubbornly claiming otherwise.

She has a strong desire to explore the world and discover more about her dragon lineage. She dotes on Emerald, treating him like a little brother despite being younger than him. She feels a special connection with him due to their shared Dragon blood and frequently suggests teaming up with him.

She is fiercely protective of her family, always stepping up to the plate when things go awry. She has no fear of any potential consequences that may come from LBD, perhaps earning a bit of admiration from the Witch in the process.

Despite often getting annoyed with Xiaohua, as one would a sibling, she often turns to him in hours of need as well, as he can often get her back on her feet and into a good head space again.

MK (Xiaotian):

Born as a twin, he is the second one to arrive in the world. He has always been a gentle and affectionate child, but there is a hint of darkness lurking within him. However, deep down, he is inherently good and pure. His senses are heightened, making him sensitive to loud sounds and strong smells. This can be challenging for him as he constantly needs to adapt to his surroundings.

He is considerate to others, outgoing, often forgetting to use his brain before acting.

He feels the weight of his “Mother’s” expectations pressing down on his shoulders. She sees him as her champion, a title that he doesn't quite grasp, and he worries about what it will mean in the end.

He is often conflicted about his path, torn between the opposing ideologies of his "Mother" who advocates for a brutal and cold approach as true strength, and his Master Nezha, who believes in the power of compassion and forgiveness. His young mind struggles to reconcile these conflicting perspectives.

His role as a protector has instilled a savior complex within his personality. While he acknowledges that others can also protect themselves, he tries to restrain himself from becoming too overbearing. However, this restraint often leads to an intense anger towards those who still pose a threat to his loved ones, despite his clear warnings for them to leave them alone.

Thanks to LBD's manipulations, he has developed an unhealthy sense of protectiveness towards Emerald and an irrational hostility towards Azure Lion.

Xiaohua:

Xiaohua, the twin of MK, possesses a playful nature and a sharp mind. He is always up to mischief with his partner in crime, Mei. Despite his mischievous tendencies, he is also full of energy and excitement for new experiences and adventures. In fact, he is the most eager among them to embark on new missions and explore the world around them.

Despite his outward appearance of confidence, he harbors a deep sense of inferiority towards himself. This stems from his "Mother" constantly comparing him to his brother, who surpasses him in strength and speed. Though he possesses impressive talents, they are overshadowed by the brilliance of his brother's abilities. To match MK's level of ability, his Mother regularly subjects him to personalized and rigorous training long after everyone else’s is done.

He has a connection with MK, often able to share thoughts, emotions, and even feel the physical pain of the other at times. This keeps the two often close together, as they are strongest when together.

Among his family, he is the most curious one, always sensing when something is not quite right with their actions. Despite knowing that the "Celestial court and Monkey King" are seen as malevolent and deceitful, he can't help but feel intrigued by their story and wants to know more about it.

Bai He;

Being the youngest in the family, she is often coddled and shielded from conflicts. But behind her sweet demeanor lies a sharp mind that many underestimate.

She possesses a brilliant mind and can decipher any text, read any book, and seem to have an endless wealth of knowledge. Despite this, she often doubts her own strength and abilities and remains unaware of her true talents. Her family is constantly in awe of her intelligence and quick thinking, and even Xiaohua turns to her for strategic advice as she always provides helpful tips and suggestions.

She constantly seeks her Mother's approval and attention, though she only receives a small amount. She can't help but feel envious of MK, who clearly holds more value in her Mother's eyes. However, Nezha often steps in to balance things out. He has a soft spot for the girl and frequently shower her with gifts. Even Erlang seems to value the child more than the Witch herself, enjoying the more poetic and political debates he can engage with the child, as the other children only stare at him blankly.

Among the children, she has the strongest bond with MK. However, this sometimes leads to feelings of guilt when she experiences rare moments of animosity and jealousy towards him. She feels comfortable sharing her thoughts and emotions with him, often confiding in him about her feelings and desires.

Previous:

Next

[belit0]

i'm curious, do you have any romantic headcanon (or something cute or idk) of Indra? 👀👀

IN FACT, YES, I can talk about this man all day long, I never run out of ideas for him 😭💕I love to picture Indra as a father, it warms my heart.

I usually paint Indra as the worst villain and a terrible person in my works, but I also like to fantasize about a beautiful, human, real side of him🤗❣️

Here's a little bit of that, romanticism and cute stuff, Indra being a nice father and a good husband💫🙏

- Unexpected, but the best father of all Uchiha men. He grew up so lonely and abandoned by his parental figures that no matter how consumed he is by the curse of hatred, he has a special place in his heart for his children (and he has a lot of them, yes). People would think he is absent with his children, but he is in fact the mama bird of the relationship.

- His best way of showing trust is by allowing her to touch his hair. He has an intrinsic affectionate relationship with his mane, it is impossible for him to cut it or reduce its size because it has accompanied him during all his odysseys, it is his sign of power. Allowing (Y/N) to comb it, or make a braid, a ponytail, is because he genuinely trusts her.

- Special affection for animals. Who initiates the family cat tradition, and is personally in charge of feeding all the living beings he allows to inhabit his house. He has only one dog to symbolize the companion he lost as a child, but about eight cats mixed between nature and his home.

- He is the one who teaches his children how to take care of their hair. Having inherited his father's imposing hair, Indra himself is in charge of telling them how to wash it, comb it, and what styles to use for comfort and practicality.

- Every night and when the children are already asleep, he likes to sit on the engawa of his house facing the garden, and ask (Y/N) to sit between his legs resting her back against his chest. Staying in that position, for a good few minutes, brings him peace.

- Never having been able to express in words how he feels about her, he chooses to show her firsthand. He gives her a beautiful graphic explanation of everything he feels for her through his eyes, using his Sharingan to give concept and form to the beautiful things only she can make him experience.

- He is not a person of many words, but every time he comes across her at home during the day, he kisses the crown of her head, resting his cheek against her hair after a few seconds and closing his eyes, breathing in her perfume and recharging his energy.

- He only says I love you when he thinks (Y/N) is asleep. Indra finds it insanely hard to accept he is only human, that he feels, and hates it when people acknowledge him as such. Only when he thinks she cannot hear him is he can put into words what he feels, and (Y/N) always waits to hear him by pretending to sleep.

- His love language is giving gifts. Without affinity for the verbal part of the relationship, he decides to show how he feels with expensive things, clothes, jewelry, make-up, you name it. Sometimes, if he is in a good mood, he leaves a note with a heart drawn next to his gift, but he hopes (Y/N) won't comment on it.

- He is happy seeing her happy. After achieving his main goal and the reason his life functioned, he found that taking care of his wife's fulfillment gave him the same satisfaction as trying to destroy his brother. He focused 100% on her, and no matter how many children were in between, (Y/N) never ceased to be his priority.

- With their first born and in his first months of life he loved to have him sleep between the two of them. Indra would put him to bed between mom and dad, enveloping him in the presence of his parents and wanting him close at all times. He loves his babies sleeping on his chest too, good winter naps laying on daddy.

- He loves flowers, madly appreciates their beauty, and loves to gather a small sprig from the garden to leave on (Y/N)'s bedside table for her to see when she wakes up. Again, he hopes she doesn't thank him or comment on them, but simply sees them and thinks of him. He always makes sure to interchange types and colors so as never to repeat the same pattern of flower arrangement. With the arrival of his children, he has assistants assembling the perfect bouquet for mom.

- The best at singing lullabies. He doesn't remember where he got them from, but he knows so many bedtime songs there is no doubt who is in charge of putting the little ones to rest. His voice becomes extremely soft when it comes to them, and they fall asleep in a matter of minutes with daddy's voice.

- With his first child, he didn't sleep the first three nights of the baby's life, worried that something would happen to him while he was resting or that someone would steal him. He stood guard all night and took care of all the child's cries, Sharingan always active just in case any threat was near. Ultimately, after giving in to a full afternoon nap, he chooses to tuck him into bed with them both.

- He does not like (Y/N) to work or exert herself, always surrounding her with his best servants to ensure she has everything she needs and lacks nothing. If she refuses to receive assistance like royalty, he himself will do the chores so his wife won't lift a finger.

- He loves to cook. He refuses to have a personal chef, almost always taking care of all the day's dishes. On the nights they spend with (Y/N) for their dates, he is usually the one in charge of dinner, and if she wants him to not have to do anything, they go out to eat at some fine food stand.

- He loves all of his children, but his favorite is his little girl. The last of all to arrive is the one who steals his heart completely, his princess. He kills and hurts for anyone in his family, but this little girl has him in a chokehold. He fulfills her every whim without complaint.

- He always seeks intimacy with (Y/N), be it a small moment of the day or a night dedicated to themselves. Loves and needs her emotionally as well as physically, and always prioritizes adult time with no children around. He takes it upon himself to get a babysitter so he can shower his wife with quality time and good sex.

- He doesn't really know how to be romantic, but he tries by preparing special dinners with (Y/N's) favorite dishes and asking her how her day was after a tiring one. His love language consists of gestures and gifts, and he tries to make them present so that his wife never doubts his love.

- (Y/N) caught him several times telling the children about their uncle Ashura, what a good man he was, and the honorable way he fell in battle. He never mentions their fight or his family's conflict, and she assumes it is to preserve a favorable image of their uncle. Perhaps after his death, Indra made peace with his brother.

[writeandsurvive]

Maybe we can get some Parker x pregnant!reader? Maybe with some angst? I love your writing so much

You asked for some angst, I shall deliver. 🫣 hope it's what you wanted!! Thank you for your kind words ❤️

(yes, I'm a bit obsessed with the band Måneskin)

Warnings: pregnant!reader, false alarm, hospital, bed rest, cheating, Alden screwing up big time, lots of crying

I wanna hate you ~ Alden Parker

You didn't know how you were going to go through this. It was supposed to be the most amazing time of your life, an incredible experience, but everything was ruined. Stroking at your belly, you kept replaying the past week in your mind and cried.

It was your second anniversary with Alden. You had plans to have an early dinner at the restaurant he took you two years ago and then go to a concert. Your boyfriend wasn't fond of the idea, as you're entering your third trimester, but you definitely wanted to. It was a band you've been dying to see for ages, got Alden to love their music, and luckily there was a specific area for disabled people and pregnant ladies like you. Everything would be perfect.

Except that you couldn't figure out what to wear. You spent hours trying on different outfits, some were maternity clothes that you hated, some were your usual clothes you didn't fit anymore. "Baby, I love you so much, but you make me so big." You told your unborn child. "I want to look pretty for your daddy, but nothing fits." You sighed, taking one more look at yourself in the mirror. Nope, not this outfit.

You changed one more time, to put the dress you had in the maybe pile. "I guess that could work with my doc martens." You tried to convince yourself. "It's gonna be your first concert, baby! I hope they'll play Coraline. Let's put it on." You grabbed your phone and played 'Coraline' by Måneskin, the band you were seeing tonight. You and Alden agreed to keep the gender a surprise till birth, but if it's a baby girl, she'd be named Coraline because of that particular song.

Listening to your Måneskin playlist, you finished getting ready. It was after putting on lipstick that you realized you still haven't heard about Alden. Checking the time and realizing how late it already was, you called him. No answer. You waited a few minutes and tried again. Same. "Alden, don't do this to me." Obviously, his work asks a lot, and you're very much aware of that, but Alden always makes a point to be there for the special occasion. He wouldn't miss it, unless there was an emergency. So, that's where your mind went.

You decided to text Kasie.

You: Hey boo! 😘 I was wondering if my man was near you or if there was an explanation as to why he's not answering?

Kasie typed, stopped, typed again and stopped. It took a few minutes to get an answer.

Kas: Hey babe ❤️ Sorry but I left the office a while ago, no idea where he's at! Wants me to ring him on Bandium?

You: Did everyone else leave too?

Kas: Idk, Parker was still there when I left.

You: Okay, thanks for answering love!

Kas: Of course, keep me updated. ❤️

An hour later, still nothing. No answer, no text, nothing. You should already be at the restaurant but instead, you didn't know where Alden was, what he was doing or even if he was okay. Your anxiety level was extremely high, which wasn't good for the baby. Kasie stayed on the phone with you and offered to pin his phone.

You gave in and told her to.

"Huh, that's weird." She said.

"What?! Where is he? Please don't tell me he's at a hospital or something." You were on the verge of crying.

"No no, not at all. He's like an hour away from DC. Got the address but it doesn't seem to be anything particular."

"What does it mean?"

"Well, do you know someone who lives on (address)?"

You thought for a moment. "No, no one! Can't you find out who lives there?"

"Pinning Parker's phone is already very unethical--"

"You're right, sorry. Thank you for doing this, I owe you one."

"You're growing my godchild inside of you, we're even." She managed to get a small laugh out of you despite the situation.

Everything went through your mind, you imagined every possibility as to what was going on, what happened to the father of your child. It was driving you crazy, you were pacing around the entire apartment, texting back and forth to his team, who had all left work a while ago after they closed their case. But somehow, you had this nagging feeling that they were hiding something from you. From the beginning of the relationship, you knew Alden couldn't tell you much about his job and you were okay with that. But that night, you were not. You needed to know.

You needed him.

By the time he finally came back home, you were a complete mess. You rushed to the door as soon as the noises of keys reached your ears. You jumped into his arms, the baby bump getting in the way. "Thank god you're okay!" You cried in his neck.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so so sorry." He hugged you back, as tight as he could. Your anxiety dropped down, as you were finally able to breathe again. No idea what happened yet, but at least he was there, alive and well.

You let go reluctantly and scanned him entirely, making sure he wasn't hurt anywhere. But what caught your attention was the tears in his eyes. His hands were resting on your belly, and the baby was clearly awake, probably aware that daddy was home. Alden dropped to his knees in front of you, kissing your bump, and apologizing over and over again.

"What happened, baby? Are you okay? Where were you?"

He looked up to you, tears rolling down his cheeks. You grabbed them softly, catching them with your thumbs. "Talk to me." You whispered, still crying too.

"I shouldn't -- I should've never --" he broke eye contact to press his forehead against your baby bump. "I'm sorry, to both of you."

After a moment there, you managed to get Alden to follow inside the apartment. Sitting on the couch, with a huge sigh of relief - it was getting harder and harder to carry this tiny human - Den dropped his head on your lap. You stroked his hair and waited for him to talk.

"I made a huge mistake." He finally said. "The biggest mistake of my life."

"What would that be?" Anxiety was coming back in a rush.

"Please don't leave me. Please, I will do anything for you--"

"Alden, you have to tell me what you did, right now."

"I slept with my ex."

And just like that, your entire world fell apart. Your heart broke into thousands of pieces. Silently, and quiet slowly, you pushed his head off your lap. Alden tried to hold onto you but knew he had to let go. His touch was the last thing you wanted at this very moment. You tried to stand up but your legs immediately gave up, finding yourself back on the couch but further from him. His reflex kicked him as he tried to catch you but you snapped his arms off. "Don't touch me." You couldn't look at him.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I know you hate me right now, but--"

"Shut the fuck up."

He did.

You stayed silent for a very long moment, tears of anger and heartbreak covering your cheeks. But the worst was what you were feeling in your lower abdomen. That pain was not normal. In your mind, you talked to your baby. "Honey, it's okay. It's gonna be okay. Stay inside." But you let out a muffled scream and curse when a sharper pain hit.

Alden was quick on his knees next to you, asking if there was something wrong with the baby. Between the long hours of waiting and now this, something wrong was definitely happening. "Drive me to the hospital."

Alden was asking a bunch of questions as he helped you to the car. You didn't understand any of them, as the pain was increasing and you were silently begging your baby to be okay, telling him and her that it was going to be fine. You hoped you could believe it.

"If anything happens to my baby, Alden, I want you out of my life, for-fucking-ever."

He stayed silent because nothing he'd say would be good enough.

~

It was the longest hours of Alden's life. He wasn't allowed in as the doctors were checking up on you and his child. Alone in the hallway, he cried. He wished he could be outside of his body to give himself a beating down. He deserved it. If you left him, he'd deserve it too. He screwed up, he ruined the best thing he ever had and for what? His first love he hadn't seen in over 30 years?

If anything happened to you and/or the baby, Alden would never recover. He'd never forgive himself.

He kept going over to the front desk, asking for news. He grabbed every nurse and doctor he saw. Finally, the nurse he remembered taking you in earlier came up to him.

"How are they? Where are they?" He probably looked like a lunatic, but didn't care. She invited him to sit down but he refused. "Tell me where are my wife and kid!" He yelled.

"They are fine, sir. I'll be taking you to them in a minute. We'll be keeping your wife here at least for the night and as of right now, she's on strict bed rest."

It was fine. He'd take the next three months off if he had to.

The nurse took Alden to you.

Laying down on the bed, with a monitor on your baby bump, you turned your head away when you saw him coming in. "God, I was so scared." He dried his tears off as he approached the bed. "Can I?" He asked, his hand a few inches from your belly. You nodded and he gently touched and stroked where the product of your love was. "How are you feeling?"

You let out a humorless laugh. "You fucking kidding right? I almost lost her, Alden!"

He locked eyes with you. "H--her?"

You sighed. "The doc didn't know I didn't know the gender." You explained.

"We're having a babygirl," his emotions were all over the place, he cried again.

You allowed him to stay after he begged, as long as he stayed silent. You wanted to sleep, feeling both physically and mentally exhausted, but it never came. You stayed awake, feeling Alden's presence on the chair next to your bed. He was looking at you, looking at your belly, looking at the machines. It was only when you saw him typing on his phone that you broke the silence. "Texting her while I'm next to you, Parker?" You asked, in the coldest ton you've ever used.

"God, no! Absolutely not! Baby, I --" he sighed and stopped what he wanted to say. "I'm just writing some stuff down so I don't forget." He showed you his phone but you turned your face away.

After another silence, as you were stroking your belly, you broke into tears. You cried like a baby, having no more self control. Alden didn't hesitate long before moving to the bed, and bringing you to his chest. The only reason you didn't push him off was that you didn't have the strength. "How could you?" You struggled to say.

"I don't know. I wish I could give you a reasonable explanation but there's none. I'm a fucking jerk who ruined the best thing that ever happened to him." He held you tight, breathing in your shampoo. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to get your forgiveness. If you just let me--"

"I hate you." You simply said.

A week later

Back home, you've been on bed rest per doctor's orders. Alden had taken some time off work, even though you didn't want him to. You wished you could just tell him off, leave the apartment, leave town even but you couldn't go anywhere with your baby girl inside you. Plus, as much as you hated his guts, he's your daughter's father, no matter what. You'd never let your girl grow up with her daddy.

Alden tried to talk to you numerous times but you always shut him off. He made sure you had proper meals everyday, and you forced yourself to eat for your daughter. He'd bring your favorite snacks and refill your water, leave flowers on your nightstand, and buy books. He offered you massages (turned them down), offered to brush your hair (turned him down), offered to play games to keep you busy (turned him down). And every afternoon, he'd play piano in the living room, making you cry every single time.

The only time you allowed him to stay near you was when he asked if he could read something to his daughter. He would grab a baby book and read it to your belly. Sometimes, your girl would be completely still, and other times, she'd move and kick around a lot. The only way for her to calm down? Feeling daddy's hand.

You wanted to hate him so bad, and a part of you really did. But when he was there, talking to his daughter, you couldn't. And it hurt.

Your sleep schedule was a mess and babygirl wasn't helping at all. It was 3am, you were utterly exhausted - yes, despite the bed rest -, and your daughter was taking your uterus for a gym. Or a dancefloor.

On the verge of a meltdown, you texted Alden who had been sleeping on the couch since the hospital. The guest room had already been turned into the nursery.

You: You sleeping?

Hearing his phone ping from the living room, it didn't take long until he was knocking at the bedroom door. "Are you okay? Do you need something?" He asked, after you told him to come in.

"I need you to calm her, please." He heard the exhaustion in your voice.

Alden walked over to the bed. "Is it okay if I lay down?"

"I guess."

He laid down next to you, above the covers. Despite the dark, you could sense he was in his useless night shorts and shirtless. You did hate him a little.

He put a hand in your belly, "Shh, babygirl. It's time to sleep now, mama is tired." He stroked your skin exactly where he felt a kick. "Hush, little baby don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird don't sing. Papa's gonna buy you a diamond ring..." He sang softly.

"Why did you do this, Alden?" You cried.

He took a deep breath. "I think I needed closure. I-- it was like 16 years old me took over and forgot everything else." You felt his free hand grabbing yours. "I know it's no excuse."

"It didn't have to involve sex."

"You're absolutely right." He squeezed your hand, his mind having a victory dance that you weren't pulling away. "It shouldn't have. I'm willing to do anything, my love. Jeremy gave me the contact of the therapist him and Josie went to, after the accident. Will you agree to give it a try?"

Your daughter was calming down. Daddy's power.

"Maybe." You answered.

"I'll take it." You heard him sniff. It'd be too easy and too soon to reach out for a hug, no matter how much you needed it. "I love the two of you more than anything in this world. I hate myself for what I did."

You didn't answer, couldn't.

You didn't realize how cold it was outside the blankets until you felt Alden shivering by your side. The man had been above the covers the entire time. "Get under the blanket, Alden."

"Are you sure? I may-- fall asleep here if I do,"

"It's fine. Just -- don't cuddle me."

He respected your barrier. You thought you heard him snore not too long after.

"I want to hate your guts so bad, but what they said is true. Sometimes, the person who hurts you is the only one who can make the pain go away. Don't ever hurt me again, please."

He wasn't asleep. He squeezed your hand as an acknowledgment.

[damnhitsuzen]

I am jumping so hard between everything will be alright and Watanuki will not to anything crazy and guess he'll go back in time far enough to become Clow Reed. (also what are the chances it was Yuuko who either made the book or had it made for this purpose?) The inherent tragedy of two people who want the other to live so much but one hasn't technically existed for a long time and the other wouldn't exist without her dying and then her doing the most to help him become real. Truly the most characters of all time

ok, first of all - I have not read Clear Card arc yet and I have no idea what happens there. The thing is, I have a fic with some time travel started and I don't want to get it influenced by any new lore (I have a feeling that Clear Card might have retconned previous worldbuilding yet AGAIN). So I decided to not get too deep into Rei before I finish the fic and read CC (which is soon I hope)

BUT I might have had a bit of Clow Reed - Watanuki meta brewing in my head for some time, waiting to be dumped on unsuspecting passerby (sorry) I think the main reason why Watanuki would not become Clow at any point of his life is that Watanuki is an anti-Clow. A post-Clow, one might say.

When I was in school, we had this old-timey soviet relic of task that was called "A Work on Mistakes". A teacher would write over your homework with red ink, circling over mistakes without explaining them. Then, you had to write an explanation, to work on mistakes: to each circled zone, you had to give explanation why it was a mistake, find a relevant rule or exception, and write the correct answer. Tedious, humiliating experience that served me just about now as a metaphor. I believe that Watanuki cannot be a future Clow, because he is a universe's work on mistakes in Clow. Here are the most crucial of those mistakes, in three parts - death, women and agency, and magic.

PART 1. Death.

We do not know much about Clow's perception of death apart from a couple of facts: - his lifespan was very long due to ungodly amounts of magic - he was surrounded by ageless immortal magical beings he himself created as companions - a love of his life also should have had a long-ass lifespan but died suddenly, triggering a reaction so visceral, Clow straight up fumbled the universe - he got to plan his own death and decide when it happens in smallest details. Should I say that none of those tell us a story of healthy perception of death and its inevitability? They tell a story of isolated guy, who has vast amounts of magic that allow him to seem outside of death's reach - for both himself and those he loves. And even his own death is a choice - a decision of usefulness and efficiency, rather than a lesson from laws of universe. On the other hand, we have Watanuki - a boy, drenched in death and its ruthlessness from the moment he comes into existence. The beautiful and sad thing in Watanuki that he doesn't need to learn any lessons about death. He doesn't come to acceptance of inevitability because understanding death is his core, built-in characteristic. As if he was created in a way that makes Clow mistakes impossible. Watanuki holds a dead cat and laments not its death, but loneliness of the moment (and holds a FREAKING CORPSE OF A CAT tenderly, so it won't be lonely); he comforts a child murder victim sweetly so she could move on (this is a moment I fell in love with Watanuki as character btw); usually, he gets angry not about the fact of death, but at pain or loneliness or injustice that may come with it. Again and again, we see how Watanuki is forced to face death and accept it. But instead of hating the way it follows him, he goes out of his way to make the passing for others as gentle, warm, painless, and not lonely as possible. Then, death takes its two biggest swings at Watanuki: Yuuko's death and his own inability to die. With Yuuko. it's like universe takes its precautions: Watanuki is literally immobilised. This way, a man with Clow Reed's face an his blood has to do something that Clow was unable to do - to watch Yuuko die and do nothing. Something that Tsubasa is unable to do with his Sakura. It's like Watanuki has to take one for other Reed men - accept a death of beloved and closes the cycle of rewinds. Thus, I see no viable way to make him into Clow without completely destroying the conclusion of THREE stories - TRC, CCS, and xxxHolic itself. Also, while Clow has agency to plan his death, Watanuki loses the agency to die by paying his part of price. It's like he has to accept inevitability even in that. "Everybody dies", Watanuki repeats the tagline with not sadness, but hope that he will be able to as well. By the time Watanuki has finally paid his price, he probably sees death as his oldest companion - a gift he might be given, a last way to connect with people he loves. Once again, Watanuki has to be humbled where Clow was allowed to cheat.

I will continue a bit later, I wanted to write this a long time ago. If CLAMP make a fool of me in Rei, so be it. But I will stay on my point that Watanuki should never be Clow.

[cruyuu]

Last chapter leaked and is so, so bad

Hi anon.

I've actually skipped looking at leaks this time (and would do so in the future) because I've wanted to experience one chapter in its entirety and not just have it vaguely translated. Besides, I started to really hate how popularized leak culture is in this fandom. It's gotten so bad to the point that some people don't even read chapters, they just read leaks and that's it.

I understand why you might think it's bad. I also think so. There's two chapters left and, as a fan of the story, I dislike the direction of everything. It feels rushed and forced... it isn't fulfilling at all. I'm happy for those who do think it's good but for me it's a hard miss. Landings in shonen usually aren't pretty though so I'm used to it. (and even though there are two chapters left it still wouldn't change much really.)

As a Yuuji fan though, oh am I having fun lol.

I'm going to put the rest behind the cut (which is my opinion on this chapter).

We get explanations because of course we do. There were many fans who disapproved and called bs on the way the entire Sukuna fight was handled. I have to admit that even though I do think what Gege wrote makes sense, it still feels overtly complicated and just a tad plot convenient how everything played out perfectly. It's all just... I don't know. Too much explanation and little to do with imagination. I'm not a child so I don't need a chapter dedicated to spelling out little things that could've easily been mentioned at an according time (like during the battle).

Still... the way the powers work here in this story does require you to really sit and think and do require block after block of text. This is the one part that I never liked about jjk because explanations like these make character-oriented moments feel less alive and make all of them behave like a bunch of dolls because one moment you'll see them talking but the next panel you're met with a whole class on jujutsu. It was always bizarre to me how little interaction there was between characters... hell if you take away the class sessions, they rarely have moments where they talk amongst themselves for themselves instead of giving a lesson on jujutsu or strategizing. It's admittedly a bit strange but oh well... it is what it is ig.

There's a reason (aside from certain characters being hot) why jjk's tag on ao3 has a lot of works. Some people take what we know and expand on it in a far less Gege-way by having characters interact with each other. I have grown to like more characters in fics way more so than in canon. In canon, only a handful of characters get my love and I'm sad to admit that those that do (such as Maki and Higuruma), quickly slip out of that loving spot and now I can't really feel as happy as I did about them before.

On that note, I haven't felt anything when Higuruma showed up alive. Yep lmfao. I used to feel for this man a lot and he is one of my top 3 (aside from Yuuji and Sukuna) but... I can't say I am happy that he's back. Now his sword disappearing in Yuuji's hand is for nothing and him clearly dying in front of Yuuji was for nothing. I still do love him and can't really dislike him (absolutely not) but canon... man the story really is kicking me in the butt when it comes to execution because ever since 265, the story had been a literal mindfuck. When I think I have a sense of where it is going to go, it goes a total opposite direction (and usually the one that doesn't really fit the vibes of the previous chapter). To me... the story's now all over the place which is contradictory because everything is being spoonfed to the readers and everything is "fine and dandy".

I still will complain because Shibuya arc had me thinking that I'd be reading something different (like CSM did) but then... here we are. There are practically no real consequences (aside from Gojo) in the Sukuna battle but at this point I wouldn't be surprised if he, too, gets a pass and gets resurrected. I would love nothing more than to read a shonen where the dead don't come back and where there's actual troubling consequences but then that wouldn't really be a shonen but would be a different genre all together (a seinen) so... yeah. I'm not going to count in Megumi's sister (because she's barely even a character) nor reincarnated cursed spirits (because we couldn't really even invest ourselves in them before they were gone) so you could say the only real casualty of the whole vs. Sukuna (aside from the Merger which wasn't even a real threat since Kenjaku wasn't even that intent on that plan in the end) is my time.

I'm just joking ofc, but I hope you get my point. It's not rewarding, not fulfilling and definitely not a good conclusion for someone who could barely even invest themselves into other characters. I still can't give a fuck about Yuta, or Kusakabe, or Panda. I feel just as stone-faced as Nobara and Yuuji did during the latter half of 268 when Megumi joined them. It's all so... whatever. (and it's kinda hilarious to me because the fandom is losing their minds and meanwhile the characters are lowkey behaving like dolls lol)

Still for those who did enjoy this and do love how everything is unraveling and so on and so forth, good for them. I'm just stating my opinion. Some might get the impression that I would love for jjk to be a tragedy, and tbh, I would not but I really would've loved if Gege, as an author, made me care about the side characters more. Instead the side characters to me feel like empty husks and I attached myself to Yuuji because his development seemed interesting only for it all to amount to weird ass interaction with the entire cast and back to being benched. He's literally playing spectator now in this chapter and yeah... it's really disappointing.

Again, two chapters left and this is where we're at. Lol.

I don't want to be a killjoy but yeah. It's not all so bad really but it is frustrating how little there is about the world and in general how many things have been shelved in favor of what we got now. Instead of seeing these interactions (which was just recycled "ok so this happened which wasn't explained") we could've gotten explanations regarding Yuuji's linage, his talk with Gojo, or for that matter, had character behave a little less like npc's in a video game that repeat the same dialogue when you come up to talk with them.

What this chapter did reveal which was also funny (said with anger btw) to me is this:

So Yuuji's "gloves" weren't really a cool feature that came from swallowing his half-brothers but by mr. Chosen One himself. Le big sigh.

Okay so... the Yuta glaze. No offense to people that like him but since when did he develop this much that he overshadowed everyone (even the King of Curses) in the end? Not only is his plan this successful but turns out that without him, everything would've failed.

I'm just straight up baffled at the amount of attention he's getting because last time I checked he wasn't the one who brought back the literal threat of the series and had absolutely no connections with the secondary antagonist (Kenjaku). Instead of the supposed main character who never had gotten the spotlight in his own fucking story (which is just proving those haters right atp because truly what the actual hell is jjk about? Everyone but Yuuji.) to get something that belongs to him... Nope. None of that.

If you thought this was an actual serious story then well... jokes on you. This panel is actually lowkey hilarious but because I really had grown fond of the story I just find it frustrating.

Yeah I... I don't know what to say really but Gege really disappointed me with this. I'm not much hopeful for the future (because the writing does feel quite cheap) and therefore will stop treating jjk like I did before. Does this mean that I hate it? No. I'm just disappointed.

I will keep my head up for like two chapters more since I'm curious what else can happen but then will definitely move on. Not from the characters tho who (luckily) can exist outside of canon. Yuuji and Sukuna will always be my babies and others are still there in my heart even though I'm very much so frustrated with the story.

So yeah... there you go. I probably might skip answering asks regarding the chapters in the future bc I really don't care anymore. If Yuuji's linage get addressed (which is the only thing I care about atp bc everything else is starting to annoy me) I might be okayish with whatever the hell we get as the ending.

[minecraftrelatedrandomness]

⭐ ramble about whatever you want o7

[ask game]

because i know you like it + i've wanted to talk about it for quite a while, i'll talk about and i can't live in a fairytale of lies in its entirety:

the humble beginnings + misc

i first started writing down the introspective/emotional spiel at the end of chapter 2 while i was at the yata supermarket in mong kok east. i wrote like half the fic in like five hours that day after coming home LMAO

also, i mentioned "no quarter given" in both chapters of the fic with no explanation for what it means. iirc it's basically old-timey military terminology for "kill on sight even if they surrender" (or sth along those lines)

titles

the working title for the fic was counting sheep, after the crane wives song whose lyrics i used for the chapter titles

there's one specific set of chapter titles that i decided against using in the final version purely because it's too politically inflammatory (as in i could get arrested)

[everything else under the cut because i like yapping a bit too much]

kuervo in childhood

[Chapter 1] Four walls. A tallboy of a child's clothes that no longer fit. A wall of books on Nayan history, politics, and military affairs, a decade or more out of date. [Chapter 2] As night fell, he read through some military documents from the Armada's offices. Perhaps it was out of sheer boredom, or perhaps he just wanted to stay up to date with the Armada's activities after all these years — though the reasons for that had changed, from genuine investment in state matters to something related, but quite different in motive.

my guy was Interested in big topics from a young age. it probably came with the childhood trauma and the propaganda. whether you'd classify it as a hyperfixation/special interest or whatnot is ENTIRELY up to you to decide.

btw a tallboy is basically like a wardrobe. a time period-appropriate wardrobe.

for there had been no tears left to cry since 1037, and never would there be again.

pirates started in 1040 (he was 19), so he was 16 in 1037, when it all began. i feel that emotional (and especially tear) repression crops up a lot in my fics. funny because i'm a pretty big crier in real life.

also, very sad, i know: kuervo needs a hug. he GETS a hug. but the person he gets a hug from doesn't UNDERSTAND the sheer amount of emotional turmoil he's been through over the years.

"Long may he reign." And may he and the Commanders reign until the Sun, Moon, and stars are extinguished and fall from the skies and all other life is destroyed, and may they reign thereafter as well.

this is actually a "me in real life" thing: snarking about "long may [totalitarian leader] reign" being so long that they're still alive at the heat death of the universe (or equivalent) and are STILL alive afterwards. except i tweaked it to be less scientific because of setting limitations; my basis for pirates worldbuilding IS the first half of the 19th century, after all.

nayan politics

there's so much politics that i could go into much more depth about. the anti-subversion laws and incrimination(? i only know the chinese as 連累) of family members who might not even be involved, among many others. though usually the incrimination part won't take literal decades to occur like it does in this fic; if this fic were to be realistic about it, mila's father and entire family and bloodline would probably be dead within the year after her escape (even a decade might be stretching it tbh).

the part about hidden postboxes for informants to tattle is partially inspired by totalitarian regimes in western europe in the 1940s, but moreso the chinese "spying/tattling on each other" mandate from legalist traditions over 2000 years ago. and also the cultural revolution. ESPECIALLY the cultural revolution. you can tell that my cultural experiences with politics REALLY affects the undertones of this fic.

also the fact that canon never explains why naya wants kuervo alive (as stated in the wanted poster). i actually gave an explanation here: political corruption. since his family is in high places in canon, part of me was arguing the whole with great power comes great responsibility thing + higher-ups should theoretically receive worse punishments, but my brain then said that was the legalism talking (i took a course on ancient chinese philosophy two years ago) + most real-life governments would let it slide much more easily, so i decided on the latter.

and the fact that his family is convinced that he's just misguided or whatnot. totalitarian politics is complicated, and the entwining of love and politics is even more complicated (and isolating). i personally didn't intend to project that part, but i just realized as i was writing this response that i might have done so subconsciously LOL

agriculture, connections, & kuervo's unreliable narration

At least his parents, in all their wealth and influence, were supportive of his newfound interest in the drink [coffee] and could afford to purchase some for him — they only grew well in the tropical south, and living in the far northwest meant that the average Nayan citizen would never see a coffee bean in their entire life. A guilty pleasure, he would call it, but it was one of the few remnants of his stint on the Faction Isles that he could keep where he was — Graecie had introduced him to the drink one autumn morning, saying that Marnie had introduced it to Will, who had introduced it to her. He wasn't quite sure if an afterlife existed, but if it did, he hoped that Alex could meet Marnie there. They'd get along well, even with Alex's devotion to what he had believed to be the Armada's anti-piracy convictions, and if the Nightingales were to be believed, she would welcome him with open arms nonetheless.

this part makes me so freaking sad for so many reasons.

on one hand, it's the biologist urge to talk about biology (climate and agriculture; kuervo implies in the dec 2nd stream that naya is located in the far northwest)

a lot of this segment is also inspired by that one tumblr post about how everyone is a patchwork of the people they've interacted with in the past: in this case, how coffee was passed down through interpersonal connections + kuervo misses his friends and the isles, dammit

on THE OTHER hand, it's also about kuervo NOT KNOWING the ending and what becomes of the faction isles. he doesn't know (for sure) that the isles survive their last encounter with ivy and iris. he doesn't know that p!will is dead. [and dw for context, the coffee enjoyer part is confirmed canon on p!will's part.] he doesn't know about how p!graecie's grief doesn't end where he left. he doesn't know he carries more than two dead people's direct legacies and memories with him.

in retrospect, the fact that this fic still works in the context of the bad alt ending for canon kills me even more, because kuervo's fate is among the very few that DON'T depend on the defeat of ivy and iris, so you can very well interpret this fic to take place in that continuity and it would still work out perfectly well. which then makes everything i said above take on ten extra layers of Sad bc Everyone Else Is Dead and Kuervo Doesn't Know.

political tactics

Alas, an order was an order, even when it was not worded as one, and again, he was no fool.

here i go, talking about totalitarian politics again. totally not because i live here.

Los Pelicanos, los Halcones, los Guinchos, y los Azulillos, he wrote of the factions. None of them were the correct translations for the birds, but it would hopefully throw the Armada off everybody's trails for a while.

i described this specific part in my writing outline/ideas as "he gives info but like, a bit to the left lol" [sic]

iirc guincho means "osprey" + i (and by extension, kuervo) deliberately worded it so that you can't directly refute the names on sight from the poster & the faction banner designs

symbolism

i talk about "unbound sailors" because that's what "pirates" translates to in my conlang LMAO

so here's the thing about the conlang: 'unbound' is the very direct translation and it initially refers to "not bound to a government or allegiance" or whatnot, but then the people living in ecclesia were like "so you are an anarchist type? so you must have no loyalty and must want to hurt everyone. pirate." and so the connotation was formed in-universe + how we got this translation + why pirates don't do "classic" destructive pirate activities

(i have SO SO SO MUCH worldbuilding lore tied to a single word, i can't believe it either. also speaking of: i do think of the faction isles as their own legal entity in-universe, but that's another can of worms to unpack LMAO)

"allies" who might turn him over to the authorities for two and a half dozen silver coins to line their pockets

thirty pieces of silver, it's fine, you can laugh me out of court, i had the then-new tv tropes page on my mind when i wrote that

tying stories together

so then i went on this entire spiel about the kingdom of rupestria, which actually ISN'T unique to this fic! i first mentioned it at the end of through blood and name, my p!owen naming fic, as the navy that she got arrested by and then served under (with commander sam) before getting out of dodge in her backstory

since owen mentioned that she came from the northwest (sept 20th vod, scott pov), i figured that her places of origin were located in the same general area as naya (i mentioned that headcanon in the life is a railway writer's cut too)

[through blood and name also mentions "owen of the egretry"; that's a reference to my "the faction isles are their own legal entity" headcanon as well bc i hc that the heron faction publishes under that alias into the greater academic world of ecclesia; egrets are taxonomically herons]

in this case, i also tied p!sausage's backstory into this bc i headcanon that his home island (canonically in the north iirc) was located in disputed territory around rupestria's waters. the section was mainly analysing the ethical implications of the attack from the navy's pov (but ofc, navies of ecclesia don't give a shit about this)

(again, i wonder about if there's correlation or even causation between the kites settling the northwestern side of the faction isles + so many totalitarian or otherwise restrictive regimes being located in northwestern ecclesia)

introspection & psychology

a lot about kuervo's quiet resistance after being put under house arrest near the end was me channeling my 2019/20 sociopolitical activist energy into a fic, hence the projection tags. the numbness towards politics? that's also me, but from 2021 and onward. as i said, it's been so long since i've written and published anything of that sort; i think the last time i did was in 2020

the naïvety self-blame is also kind of a very personal thing bc i remember watching the 2012 local chief executive (basically mayor/governor) elections on tv when i was a kid and the guy i was predicting to win (with all the innocence of a 7yo child) DID win. i was so happy at the time but then i was 7 and didn't understand the true political implications at the time, and i learnt just a couple of years later that the guy was actually an asshole (+ all-round not a person i should align myself politically if i want to stand by my morals and values)

i don't really blame myself for that bc i was 7 and didn't know better, but i feel that this is something that kuervo still has to come to terms with, because he grew up in a loyalist/pro-totalitarian household and his naïvety lasted until he was 16 before the entire world backflipped on him and crashed down in a single night, so i felt that the psychological impact of everything on him would be much greater when compared to my personal experience

and also as i mentioned in the tags: "i may or may not have given kuervo ptsd", so yeah: the flashbacks are canon + nightmares here, avoidance 101 (gun avoidance in canon) + sleep issues and paranoia here + ongoing negative emotions & blame (bro has been on a revenge arc for OVER A DECADE since CHILDHOOD) + implicit social isolation here (chapter 1)

conclusion

anyways teehee kuervo was one of the more fun cubitos to write purely because i get to put a spotlight on the guy and then OOPS i may have accidentally set him on fire with the projection beam in the process

(also holy shit this entire writer's cut is like 2k words long by itself. the fic is only 2.9k words. i like to yap i guess)

[nancyheart11]

I wish I had more to offer but I can offer you some Ordon Fam that’s been sitting in my drafts:

Rusl always knew that whenever he came home, there would be warm food and an even warmer hug waiting for him. Whether it was from working in the forge, delivering something to Castle Town, the more covert affairs of the Resistance, or more recently the shroud of darkness that had engulfed Hyrule, Rusl could always rely on Uli to hold the fort at home.

Of course, he tried to pitch in as best he could. When he wasn't doing any of the aforementioned activities, he at least tried to maintain cleanliness in the house, and of course he always looked after the children when he had time to do so. Uli generally managed the home happily on her own, though, and he thanked her for it every day.

So it was a strange and concerning thing when, one evening, Rusl returned home to find Uli sitting on the sofa, no fire crackling in the fireplace, no food to be seen or smelled, and a general dark atmosphere to the space.

"Uli?" he questioned, walking towards her. "Are you alright?"

Uli jumped, startled, having been lost in thought. "Oh! Dearest, I--I'm so sorry, I just--"

His wife paused, sighing and sagging a little in the sofa. Rusl knelt in front of her to be at eye level and looked her over. She seemed very out of sorts. "What's wrong?"

Uli shook her head. "I'm just tired. I'm sorry. I'll work on dinner."

Rusl laid a hand on her knee. "If you're tired, then rest. I'll take care of dinner."

Uli's posture changed, stiffening a little as she shot him an uncertain, questioning glance.

Rusl tried not to be offended by the look. "Just because it didn't quite go that well last time doesn't mean I can't make something for you. Go rest in bed. I'll take care of everything."

Uli watched him a moment longer before sighing and nodding. Rusl kept an eye on her until she vanished into the bedroom, and he nodded to himself, setting to work. The cleaning could wait until after dinner. As for the children, he knew Colin had Hana as he usually took babysitting duty around the evening. He saw them outside just a moment ago. So that just left dinner.

And a bit more from that story…

Colin paused, expression growing worried. "Is Ma okay?"

"She'll be fine," Rusl assured his boy. He had to smile at the child's concern; Colin had such a big heart. Although it was a valid question since Uli usually never faltered, Rusl did know his wife had her slumps just as much as anyone else. He was more than happy to take care of her and the family until she recovered. "But we can make the load easier for her for a little while."

"Where are we going?" Colin questioned next.

"Well..." Rusl paused as they found their way to the last house in the village. "I figured I'd recruit some help."

Rusl and Link had both been on their own journeys now, after the attack on Hyrule. Rusl usually got by with scrounging together something somewhat edible, but he could just as well go a day without eating until he reached a settlement. Link might have better experience - the boy used to help Uli cook when he was younger.

Rusl was humble enough to admit he was a terrible cook, after all. But he was certain they could make something together.

Link was inside munching on a carrot (Rusl sincerely hoped the boy wasn't just going to eat that for dinner). After a brief explanation and another assurance that Uli was, indeed, going to be okay, the three put their heads together on the matter.

"What about an omelet?" Link offered. "It's better than just boiling them."

"How about egg stew?" Colin picked up a glass of milk and shook it. "Ma always says milk is great for stews."

"I've never heard of egg stew, I'm afraid," Rusl laughed. "Is that something you had in Kakariko?"

Ahhhh Lofty you're so sweet!!

I love how Rusl wants to help Uli, but isn't afraid to ask for help in the kitchen.

[thatbitch151]

Hello y’all! Gonna info-dump about a disorder I have now! (There’s a specific mutual that this is for and if you see thing you’ll know it’s you :D)

So I have P-DID, aka Partial-DID, aka Partial-Dissociative Identity Disorder

Before I can go more in depth about P-DID, first I need to explain regular DID, so

What Is DID? (Btw I’m not a professional so this is may be worded wrong but I’m trying my best)

DID is a dissociative disorder that forms when a child, roughly between the ages of 2-8 but those can have some wiggle room, goes through extreme and/or repetitive trauma. Basically, this disorder causes a split of the base identity into at least 2 distinct identities, but there can be any number of identities, or alters as I will refer to them from now on. A person with multiple alters is referred to as a system.

With DID, but not required of every system (there are other disorders that can cause systems, like OSDD and UDD) there are memory walls. The effect of these memory walls is to, well, block off memories between alters. The strength of the amnesia differs from system to system, with some not remember anything unless they are in front (or driving the car that is the body), while others can remember what other alters do crystal clear. Not only does the strength change from system to system, it can also change from alter to alter. Meaning that the wall between alters A and B might be strong and A won’t remember anything B does and vice verse, the wall between alter C and D could be thin or nonexistent so they share memories.

That’s the basics of DID, if anyone wants a more in depth explanation of that, or anything else in this post either, let me know and I’ll happily do so.

Now, what is P-DID?

P-DID is exactly like it sounds, Partial-DID. This means that some of the effects of the disorder are not as pronounced as regular DID. What does this mean?

It can, but doesn’t have to, mean little to no memory walls. It can, but doesn’t have to, mean less alters/less defined alters. It can, but doesn’t have to, mean that there is less switching of front (when alter A takes control of the body after alter B was out and vice versa).

What does that mean for my experience?

In my system, there is significantly less switching. Instead, 95% of the time me, the host (meaning the alter who is in front the majority of the time) is in front while the other 5% of the time a different alter is in front. Instead, the majority of the time I am usually co-con with someone else (co-con means co-conscious, when 2 or more alters are in the brain seat at the same time, or it could be both in the driving seat, or one in the driver one in the passenger ect. It means we are both conscious of the out side world at that moment).

It also means that between me and Most (not all) alters, there is very little memory wall. I remember the majority of what the others do when in front and vice versa.

It Also means that while we have a large number of known alters (and a probably larger number of unknown ((to me)) alters) most of them are fragments, or not as defined alters.

What is my experience like?

Like I said earlier, I am usually co-con with someone else. About 60% of the time, I am not alone in the front and 35% of the time I am (5% left for when I am not in front at all).

More over, in that 60% when I am co-con, about 30% of it is when someone else is in the driver seat instead of me, so I am left to watch what they do but not do it myself. I can give feed back and talk to them and such, but ultimately they are in control until I am back in the drivers seat.

I also experience little memory wall, when it comes to the front at least. There are only about 2 alters who I remember little to nothing when they front. This made it a bit difficult for me to even figure out I had the disorder since I had very few memory gaps. Instead, the memory wall that is there between most of the alters an I is an emotional memory wall.

For example, this means when I think about a trauma that I did not experience/it’s not my job to hold, I can remember what happened, sometimes in excruciating detail, but I do not feel the emotions connected to it. I can remember that we were upset or hurt or whatever during the event, but I do not feel anything for or from that event myself.

I only figured it out because I remembered a short period of time where I wasn’t the host, and instead someone of a completely different gender than me was. This, for pretty obvious reasons, led to me being confused and questioning it until eventually someone reached out and told me that yes, I was in fact part of a system. This took many months of questioning and even talking to a different system and asking questions before they finally told me.

How does having P-DID affect my day to day life?

Honestly? Not very much. Sometimes I’ll feel random emotions and be confused before I remember that there are others in my brain and it’s probably them, or I’ll have occasional bad memory and suddenly someone will tell me the thing I need to remember (or more often than not hear someone laugh at me for forgetting, the bastards).

Sometimes I’ll starts disassociating really hard and then suddenly someone else is moving our body and talking with our voice.

Another big way it affects me is that as it turns out I am a fictive. A fictive is an alter that is made based off of something that already exists, whether that’s a whole other person or a character from a book, game, movie, ect. This means that I Do Not match what the body looks like on the inside, this was another way I figured it out because everytime I looked in the mirror I would go “hey wait a minute, that’s not my face” before realizing that yes, it was in fact my face.

That’s the most of it for now, if anyone has any questions, or wants further explanation, you can either comment/reblog asking for that, or you can DM me directly :)

Thanks for reading, and for the one specific mutual I hope this helped in any way at all

[findroleplay]

Hello~ My name is Pidge and I'm looking for one, possibly two roleplay partners to create amazing stories with!

Everything You Need To Know:

*I’m a 30 year old female, who has roleplaying experience for about 15 years now, which has greatly helped improve my writing skills.

*I am in Central Time Zone

*I’m a pretty literate writer. I write in third person, usually multi-paragraph form. My posts are usually 1-3 paragraphs to 4-6 or more depending on what I have to work with, as I like to go into detail. I can also write multiple characters if needed.

* I currently work overnights, so I'll be most active and have plenty of time to work on writing at work. Daytime replies will be slow as I also have a child to take care of during the day, and need to get some sleep.

*Preferred RP medium can be done over email or Google Docs, whichever is easier. Communications can be easier over Discord as well!

* My pairings are usually MxM and MxF. I play mostly male characters. I do play female characters at times, but I’ve run into many people that only play female and require me to play the male. I have a few handfuls of previous characters I've created over the years I could reuse or I can create brand new characters.

* I LOVE drama and romance! The more dramatic the roleplay gets, more ideas surface and the better it gets. I have been known to come up with some crazy ideas, but the crazier the better! I am also known to like a bit(a lot) of violence, so if you don’t like that, then I’m not the partner for you.

* If there is the possibility of smut in the future, my partner HAS to be 21+. It is not required that smut be in the roleplay at all. I will quickly deny those underage if they even suggest it.

*I will NOT answer those who email me with one liner/short explanations as to why they want to roleplay with me, or if they have completely ignored my info and rules. Please, I beg of you! Tell me what you want! I cannot do all of the work and come up with all of the ideas, so I don't want any 'Oh, whatever's okay with you' or 'It's whatever you want'. It is one of my biggest pet peeves and I will stop answering if it gets to this point. I'm very laid back and easy going when it comes to the idea/plot making process, but I also enjoy the aspect of coming up with ideas together as a team.

*I WILL roleplay:

Experiment x Scientist***

Human x Angel/Fallen Angel**

Human x Dragon Hybrid**

Prince x Princess

Prince/Princess x Servant/Knight

Dragon Hybrids***

Anthro/Furry**

Medieval Fantasy*****

Arranged Marriage*****

****** = what I really want to do or what i’m used to doing!

I’m open to mixes of roleplay of any of the list above. 

I am open to new genres of roleplay, if you want to roleplay one that isn’t in the list above, go ahead and tell me what you would like and we could work something out. 

*I will NOT roleplay:

Any TV/Movie/Anime Show

Fandoms

Slice of Life

Horses/Wolves/Animals in general

Real life people such as celebrities

You can contact me by this Email: taokitsune@gmail.com

I hope to hear from you soon! 

-

[okamirayne]

O’Rayne!! Stalking your posts and totally freaked at your mention of HHU (please no pressure tho Rayne just see it as support and stalker interest lol) and was curious…is it your burnout that is the toughest part for you regarding HHU and your original works? Stupid question probably??? >.< I haven’t written in a looong time myself (so many unfinished fics heh >.>) but I think it’s block and not burnout. Is there a big difference?? I get confused but I know you’ve been struggling and always said it was burnout not block? I’m sorry and hope you heal soon. 🧡🧡🧡

Hello, hello! 🤗💜

Stalking your posts and totally freaked at your mention of HHU (please no pressure tho Rayne just see it as support and stalker interest lol)

[..] is it your burnout that is the toughest part for you regarding HHU and your original works? Stupid question probably???

Not a stupid question. And yes. It is undoubtedly the toughest, most frustrating, and devastatingly painful thing I've had to face regarding my creative journey.

I haven’t written in a looong time myself (so many unfinished fics heh >.>) but I think it’s block and not burnout. Is there a big difference?? I get confused but I know you’ve been struggling and always said it was burnout not block?

Oh luv, I'm sorry you've not been able to write for such a time. I'm not sure which camp you're in but I'll try to give my two cents re: differentiating between Block and Burnout. Please note: this isn't a one-size fits all explanation, as I can only speak to my own experience.

So for me, personally, the distinction is this:

Block = I have no ideas or inspiration; I have gas in the tank, just no map and no destination. Maybe my tyres are spinning in the mud a bit. I need a jump-start. Or maybe I need to figure out which gear I'm stuck in. With the right mechanical mojo, I can take the wheel.

Burnout = I have a destination, I want to reach it, I even have a map, but my engine is shot to shit and my tank is empty. I cannot be jump-started by my usual tricks and my gear-stick is broken. I have all the ideas and even sparks of inspiration yet I possess absolutely no capacity to actually get it OUT of my head onto the page. I am a fuming roadwreck. Even Jesus can't take this wheel.

Burnout, (again, I'm speaking to my personal experience of it) is a severe, scary, and surreal kind of shitshow that feels like my brain has mutinied and is gaslighting itself. Unlike a block, burnout is defined as 'a state of emotional, mental, and physical exhaustion brought on by prolonged or repeated stress' (said stress is different and unique in each case). Basically your nervous system has been sadistically rewired into survival mode, your creative tyres have been slashed, and you're not firing on all cylinders because your cylinders are now warped scrap metal in a flaming junk yard. It is a godawful state of breakdown. And when you try to rev, it costs you.

Blocks are cordons that can be navigated or bulldozed...burnouts are the love child of napalm and Greek Fire. You can't smash or power through them. Unless you like third degree burns on your psyche and soul.

Drama. I am full of it. I know. This is what happens when a writer isn't writing. Monsterous. Inconsolable. Insufferable.

I’m sorry and hope you heal soon. 🧡🧡🧡

You're a sweetheart. Thank you so much, Anon. I really hope you manage to clock what's got you stuck (I sincerely hope it's block, not burnout) and that you are back to writing again ASAP! 🧡

[hazelcephalopod]

Listen. So 911. Imma be honest Buddie ship is great, I’m here for it, I think they should do it. In the canon of the show -bonus if the relationship is 99% the same except they kiss now. Do I really believe that has always been the endgame for them? No. Absolutely not -and maybe I’m wrong idk the deep lore I’m just a slightly more than casual viewer whose recently noticed the fandom. That said… to be clear this isn’t me trying to call the show out but just analyze the text in a colloquial way. This is normal mainstream tv and my expectations are real low*.

The show has that old school “look how close these two guys are. Like sooo close. Mm if they were different genders this would 100% be a will they won’t they dynamic” thing, the “this probably started as, a little bit of a joke about how close these two guys -or sometime girls!- are” while being a genuine friendship but there’s a vibe. (Or the oopsie option, also possible here tbh. S/x actors just do a thkng but imho it’s the other creatures responsibility to work with that?) Which, later the show starts to play into that more and more, usually creating a queerbait. Now, to be clear I’m using that descriptively. No judgment here, just that’s what I’m seeing. As I said could be an accident, coulda dig themselves into the old QB hole.

Because. Let’s go over it. You’ve got these two guys, they meet. They click instantly. They become the most important people in each other’s lives. They do all the other things the romantic couples do in the show. Meta the creators clearly know people are shipping them and play into that a bit while backing off by pairing each with random woman. In canon there’s jokes and comments about their really close relationship. One of them adopts the others child basically. Sometimes when one is hurt the other looks like they might weep or cry in agony. Sometimes you swear the looks they give each other have no straight explanation possible. Canonicly they are still just really close bros*. These. Are all hallmarks of a queerbait.

Now, maybe they have shifted to making it end game, at some point, during all this. But tbh, bc of all the history of queerbait in mainstream tv for the past idk, minimum 20-30 years? Really hard to tell the difference. Without some obvious signs it isn’t just queerbait, it’s just looks the same! Until one of them… has… queer experiences, and clearly is like “hmm. Maybe I. Am not straight.” Some obvious “this relationship is indeed being teased. As a real possibility and not just a joke” then I remain skeptical. It’s ok, I’ve been on the great queerbait train many times, and I will take those ships to my -and the characters- grave! But it means I am on the look out for them. *theres several points im going to cover under the cut

Yes this show has. A lesbian couple, maybe a gay side character. And some queer characters on the spin off show, which is run by different people -at least enough it’s different, and now it’s on a different network, also there’s 1 same sex couple last time I checked. Tbh. While there’s some wonderful exceptions. It I commons for a mainstream show like this to have a max of one same sex couple per show. It’s a bad thing, I don’t like it, there should be room one these shows for multiple main queer couples. But it’s pretty standard for 1 max.

Yes men can be friends. Bros. Very close platonic bros. Absolutely.

You know who are also very close friends? Hen and Chim, I’ve never ever thought they were anything but close friends. Or even Athena and Hen -tbf I imagine there’s some shippable stuff there and go for it have fun- they seem really close, but not really like they’re gonna become a couple tbh.

you know who seems way closer than that? Bobby and Athena, or Chim and Maddie, or Hen and Karen, and Buck and Eddie often seem closer than them tbh.

Also. Let’s be honest. I also like QPR Buddie, but this is mainstream TV. I repeat. They can barely have more than one lesbian couple and a gay side character so, I have little faith they are going to grapple with, asexuality or aromanticism and QPR’s, especially with long standing cis so far het man main characters. But maybe I’m wrong and they might go there, and I’d be delightfully surprised. I’ll settle for just make them kiss already plz. (Tbh I admit the vibes of premier of season 7, increase my belief a little.)

I admit. Shippers are gonna ship. People like doing it it’s fun. S/x on almost nothing at all. Here I really do think, there’s some good reasons people are shipping these two characters. People can bring receipts. Anyway. I can only advise, not being an asshole. Either to shippers or shippers, shippers don’t be an asshole.

Personally I just needed to hash all this out. Get ready to be kinda disappointed and know… it’s just how it goes. Idk.

Also. Tbh. If they don’t do some of the “this isn’t a queerbait” signs soon -and this part is a criticism- than they are either ignorant, incompetent, or if not irresponsible, rude. Imho. Or at least like fully… explore that idea of them being in a romantic relationship and then reject it. I won’t like it but I’ll respect it.