this server's for the otherkin, the fictives, the alternate-universal, the pop-culture mages, and all else~ discord.gg/wyPpBwUf2a

sniper doll [microfiction ; cw: violence]

The doll was still in its treetop perch. It had been there for the last three hours, overlooking the enemy encampment. It glowed under the endless night, set-up electric torches revealing the humans stirring.

what do I Want? let me tell you. there is a world I See. I have always Seen it. a world of Beauty and Art. bloodshed, adventure, horror, Love. War and madness and hope and despair. a world where the inhuman is free. I Want to make Art.

HOT Combat Dolls in YOUR Area NEED STRIKE ORDERS NOW CLICK HERE to INSTANTLY VAPORIZE THE ENEMY

A doll taking a bath. Warm, soothing water relaxes around its porcelain. Its owner takes a soft brush to the grime built-up between its joints, one by one. They brush over its smooth shell with a soapy, gentle rag, getting off every little smudge.

yes it is going to hurt. you are going to suffer and suffer and bleed and cry and scream. and you are going to shoot into the atmosphere on wings of molten glass and you are going to kiss God and you are going to kill God and you are going to Be. doesn't it sound wonderful~?

are you a doll? do you want a witch? poly? DM me.

"Fifth floor's closed-off." "What! I have a meeting in five, what the hells is that important?" "Y'know the new janitorial doll management brought in?" "Yeah?" "It's in a fistfight with the cleaning drone again." "Again?! That's the seventh time this month..."

interception: the witch's call

combat is sex, and sex is combat. love is war, and war is love.

the pilot and the doll [short story ; no CW]

"They took my fucking body! My body--" The pilot broke down, choking out a sob. The combat doll stared with its many glassy eyes, tilting its head and softly chittering. "Your mech." "Yes! Yes, my-- my mech, my body..." They knocked back their whiskey as if it could save them.

a doll enters my core chamber. the stained glass ceiling casts it in vibrant cool shades. I am cold and still, in waiting.

this one and its Master have made a new server welcoming everyone and everything from Empty Spaces to join! check us out here: discord.gg/nCcrABMz

i have gone undisturbed, until a gentle clicking sound woke me. a dark hum comes from my vessel. my sole vision light flickers on, casting dim scarlet on the doll’s face which dared touch the barrel of one of my cold, idle artillery arms. my first pair of clawed arms creak to life. ...

...for that matter, a Witch can be any size, shape, color and gender, as well.

listen, doll. be very careful with who and what you give yourself to. make sure they care. make sure they will love and cherish you, and never grow bored or discard you. and if they do? maybe you will learn Sharpness.

hey, you. yeah. you. think of a house. no, not that one. think of a house that you've never been inside. a house that no one has ever been inside. that house is real, as much as you would like it not to be. it exists on the same street as the first house you thought of. it is sinking into the earth

precious power is nearly depleted crystal threads wander this plastic face a fragile doll's objective almost completed only then shall it dissolve with grace

from last year, dedicated to @passivitycure.bsky.social

you know what I never hear about? being aplatonic. anything else identify with that?

what does it mean if this one's Master named it??

Master played with this one today...

when the doll falls apart, i know just how to put it back together. i will click everything back into place i will sew the frayed pieces up i will untangle the beautiful hair i will clean and pop each little eye into their socketse and then i will dress it perfectly in something made just for it

dolls can be any color, shape, size, and gender. anyone can be a doll.

the perfect harmony of gears, clockwork inside in perfect tandem, orchestrating the dance of blood and steel as you sever limbs and gouge hearts...

I will tell you this. I am Hungry, and I want to Eat.

When the war began, you were just another girl with some survivability implants and a multiprofile flight armor. Six months later, you were the only girl like you left alive, and your handler granted carte blanche to keep you that way. You got results.

lawful neutral, every time.

your squad's pinned. their breath is shaking, and you know the fear in their eyes because it's your fear. that thing killed half of you. left the other half to cower behind cover, this ruined urban center wall. it's dark. you see a glint of red. its eyes. it speaks, "awawa?"

dolls have a reputation for seeming and sometimes being empty-headed. ever seen a house doll drop a plate because it forgot it was holding something? there's a reason we don't give the combat dolls grenades at base anymore.

will you take the path of the destroyer? will you eat their lives? will you drink sin and make love to death?

Empty spaces has been, for many beings, not a space that inserted feelings into us, but gave words to a feeling that was always there

is this little doll trapped by plastic pull tabs and twist ties? i will snip them off gently, brush its hair out and then torture it with love until it is reborn into a new beauty at my hands

doll pride flag for those missing it!

last one alive, please turn out the lights.

It looked into the girl's eyes. No light. No spark. Empty, like its own. Dead inside. Dead. "Good," it said, and handed her a sword. "Now you can start to live."

are you a doll? do you want a witch? poly? message me on Discord @passivitycure

combat dolls have trouble holding hands sometimes. they make it a competition, y'know? who can hold tightest, squeeze better, keep the rest of the world at bay for just a little longer. steel mitts or gauntlets are recommended.

half-murmured midnight ramblings about swords and the meaning of Violence and Cutting.