♡ ᴅᴏʟʟ / ᴅᴇғɪɴᴇᴅ !

ind. sel. orianna reveck of league of legends. as choreographed by birdie. EST 01.05.18.

[themakeupbrush]

Alin Le’Kal S/S 2019 Couture

[inosanteria-deactivated20181125]

[mechanicalmarvcl]

             “Yes. We do. We are very compatible.” The corners of her mouth twitching upwards just barely into as close to a fond smile as she knows how, her fingers curling over her knees gentle as she blinks at him. “I do not know. That is why I was asking you. But I think - yes, maybe so. This is - nice.”

 Shifting just a bit, she tucks her heels in against his thigh, an unconscious bid for closeness as she reassures herself that he is, in fact, real. “Do you think we will ever truly feel human? I wonder - very often.”

[timbllr]

from weheartit

[darling-dontcry]

>•

[kissedbythevoid]

[luthienne]

Life is what happens to someone else; / I stand on the sidelines and wring my hands.

Lisel Mueller, from Waving from Shore: Poems; “Poem for My Birthday” (via luthienne)

[lilies-and-opium]

[mechanicalmarvcl]

            “That seems very - fun,” she agrees, the corner of her mouth turning up in a faint, awkward approximation of a smile. He’ll forgive her, she’s sure - she is learning, after all. “It’s nice that we don’t - have such strong opinions as the humans do on our likes, I think. It will make it easy to pick something.”

Shifting a little, she slings her legs over his lap, turning sideways to lean her cheek against the couch back and blink at him. More efficient. “Logan, are you - happy?”

[r1verdaughter]

Annunciation in Nabokov and Starr Mary Szybist

[shucklefuckle]

[adrasteiax]

What did burning flowers smell like? Something terrible, something holy?

Vandana Khanna, from Blue Madonna in “Train To Agra” (via adrasteiax)

[andantegrazioso-deactivated2018]

Soft day | ~Roxanne~

[mechanicalmarvcl]

“...Perhaps it isn’t function that determines compatibility,” she offers, and her grip tightens on his arm, absently possessive though it certainly isn’t in her nature to be. She clutches him close, hanging on though they both know he isn’t leaving. Neither of them are. 

(They can’t very well bear to be apart these days, after all. Not after finding someone like them.)

“I’m glad we met.” It’s a bit trite, but she isn’t tired of saying it. Not nearly. Eyes closing, she smiles faintly, gears winding slow and steady, a comforting whir. “We should - do things. For fun. That is what companions do, isn’t it?”

[luthienne]

Clearly the world has never / offered itself to her; / it has taken and taken until she became / empty and sealed.

Lisel Mueller, from Waving from Shore: Poems; “Aphasia” (via luthienne)

[cestvibe]

[mechanicalmarvcl]

@tuppencetrinkets // PROMISED AND LONG OVERDUE.

            She doesn’t like the streets, she decides; she’d already known she wouldn’t, just from the rare trips outside she’d taken with Father. So many people it was - well, it wasn’t incomprehensible, no. That was inaccurate.

But it was chaotic, and illogical, and she had never liked it when things misbehaved in such a way. But she couldn’t stay any longer, not after Father’s body burned and only ashes were left. They’d certainly saved enough, with all the work they’d done. She could go anywhere, do anything.

She didn’t really care to do much at all, but a small move would do.

Orianna hovers outside of the door, grey eyes flickering over the neat sign, and her teeth worry at her lip just a little. The Ball whirs, and beeps, confirming a positive response to her query. Not human-run, then. 

She did far, far better with machines, so she curls gentle fingers around the floating display and folds her companion back into something more innocuous before reaching out and pushing in the door, silver-pale hair hanging dark and heavy with the rain over her shoulders and thin shift.

“...Hello.”