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Been having art block, have some Vulcan women.

Ya girl decided to try something new with her hair…and I don’t think I’m loving it 😆

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The Bad Batch hugs are everything ✨ And sometimes I just want to crosshatch until the pen falls out of my hands, I admit this. Dopamining my brain into bliss and my heart into warmth 🫠✨ Today me wasn‘t like coloring, I just felt… orange warmth 🧡 Radiating and sending this out to you all 🫶 Let me be a cuddle floof craving for hugs okay 🫠

Taglist: @eclec-tech @lonewolflupe @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @justanotherdikutsimp @ladylucksrogue

(also made this like 2 years ago)

"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 (Coming Soon!)

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>>>> (Coming Soon!)

"until the celebration of rebirth is torn to pieces crawling through heaven at night!"

And so the first day, first art here🍉

Day one: noodle flies

Good start good day

Day 9 - Tech and Leena

For many, the holidays are about traditions, connecting with family and loved ones or feeling spiritual reprieve. For Tech… it often becomes a day off from the normal hustle and bustle of his life. A chance to relax 😌 💚💕

AO3 format can be found here!

Event Masterlist

(As always, thank you my very dear friend and creative partner @legacygirlingreen for making this event possible! She is the beautiful mind behind ALL the writing, design layout, post editing and song selections! I couldn’t have done any of this without her!)

💚Tag List💚

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @justanotherdikutsimp @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream

t'lyn sketch