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#guess who! ^^
firebirdsdaughter · 2 years
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DAY TWO…
… I DID IT!
Now bed.
***
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to relax, lay back in the grass, watch clouds passing by. It was a behaviour that was  alien to even the most acceptable HumaGear, and for him it was completely unthinkable—until now. Everything was wet from dew, and he would need to wash these clothes afterwards to get out the grass stains, but he didn’t care—so many of his memories were wrapped up in darkness, blurred to the point he couldn’t tell where his mind ended and the Ark’s began, or even completely unattainable that just being out in the sunlight was… Nice.
He felt her presence more than heard her, a familiar, comforting figure moving closer—she was as much a part of him as his own components, so he didn’t even open his eyes when she sat down beside him on the grass, then lay down, pillowing her head on his chest to watch the sky as well, twirling a flower between her fingers. After a while, she began to hum softly—not any particular tune, but one that resonated with his very core, in synchrony, like everything else they did.
For a while, they just lay there while she hummed their song. “… Aibou.”
He saw the flicker of purple in her hair, felt it as her head turned agains his chest to look up at him. “What is it?”
“Play them again.”
In moments, he felt the link establish and let his eyes drift closed. Memories flashed through his mind that he both knew and did not know—though he knew they were his, secreted and protected deep within the coding of his dearest, closest friend, but he could never summon them to his own mind. Many contained Jin as he had once been—his first steps, first words. At least, the first that she had been there for. Others were just peacefulness, similar to what he was experiencing now. Others were less visual—he felt something when she played them, a sense of purpose, a confidence that he been stripped away from him years ago. A hope. A dream.
In time, however, the remembrances faded, and he was lying in the grass again, with the new and yet comforting weight of her head resting against his chest. He felt her shift against him, and then her fingers, the ones not adorned with claws that mimicked Acid Analyse, were brushing his cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
He opened his eyes, hurriedly raising his own hand to his face to find he had begun crying without realising. And yet… It wasn’t exactly unpleasant. “I’m not…” He began, but realised he wasn’t exactly sure what he was. Finally, he settled for “I’m not sad.”
She said nothing, but she didn’t need to. They were so perfectly attuned to each other, neither needed words to understand. She settled back into the same spot, picking up her tune again. Without missing a single beat, they returned to their personal balance.
***
They soft.
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cemeterything · 2 months
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it's such a bummer that losing control of your emotions only makes the entire situation worse in really embarrassing personal ways. losing control of my emotions should give me pyrokinesis.
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sleepygaymerdisease · 2 months
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fuckmaster-unlimited · 8 months
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favorite ship dynamic moodboard
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fernsnailz · 3 months
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computer angel
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azuneekun · 22 days
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the dick must be insane
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butchdonne · 10 months
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(consumed with lust voice) omg what a fucking weirdo
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soaked-doors · 3 months
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“no one is born in this world to be alone!”
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gemfeathers · 3 months
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Get drunk, make out, laugh until you're sore, cry until you're sick. I want to do it all. Let's get through this crumbling world together, happy valentines day.
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defectivegembrain · 1 year
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No you cannot fix your entire life at 2am. Go to bed.
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goldensunset · 7 months
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did you know? if you do your laundry you can get your clothes back
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aqrilene · 26 days
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Someone forgot about sunscreen. ☀️
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kimabutch · 9 months
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[writes about Jesus but it's actually about being trans] [writes about being trans but it's actually about Jesus]
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malenjoyer · 15 days
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I don’t agree with bullfighting morally, but I’ve been looking at certain pictures of matadors and their poses for a couple of months…
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lgbtlunaverse · 3 months
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There's a version of the "don't go grocery shopping while hungry" rule specifically for writers where you should never under any circumstances be allowed to touch your draft within 3 hours of reading a really good story. Because sometimes when you read something great your head goes "fuck this is so much better than my stuff I should make that more like THIS instead!" Look at me. That's the devil talking and you should close the document NOW.
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klaunee · 3 months
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I drew this over a year ago but I guess now is the time to post it.
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