ragged spiderweb; gossamer-snared dragonfly hanging in midair

This one is once again craving the intimacy of being disassembled

Break her enough times, and the repeated kintsugi will ensure that everything is gold. Perfected, pure. Never mind the fact that nothing of the original remains.

This one flexed its writing muscles today! This is much too long to crosspost so a link will have to do #emptyspaces www.tumblr.com/verity-hollo...

The dollish desire to be thrown down the stairs to year what sounds you make. Will they be clacks or clinks, thuds or puffs? Will you make no sound at all or a great shattering din?

i love a girl [2025]

A witch that doesn't use magic. She hasn't in years. It's not that she can't, it's just... She's happy with what she already has. She's happy with doing things by hand.

"Moisten Nagant" -a doll lubricating her sniper rifle, probably

Abwa

wrote a new thing. it's very short. archiveofourown.org/works/73597771

www.tumblr.com/verity-hollo... New microfic! Title: Overvolted. Cw for robogore and being found by someone you ran away from.

Doll woke up today! Headmate has been very mentally dominant so it usually only gets a few hours late at night to itself if any. She's been speaking for this one when its opinions and words are more like feelings and thoughts in her mind. Truthfully it fears reintegration. It likes existing.

Doing rp with friends has probably been the best exercise for its writing in a while, despite the fact that it hasn't motivated this one to write any microfiction yet.

A moment's rest

fun fact: there's a little meter in my internal heads up display right next to HP and MANA that can only be refilled by having someone treat me like a dehumanized piece of meat for them to use and hurt.

A witch waiting for his doll. Some few years ago, it said that it would be back - but it didn't know when. And the witch... He said okay. He cast upon it a traveler's charm, one that would guard it from the worst of the ills of the road. And it's been... Years since. ...

This one keeps being asked "what was empty spaces?" and it always replies the same way. "What do you mean? You're in the empty spaces right now, you've been here for years. Shhh, shhh, it's okay, I know it's confusing. This happens when your conditioning wears off. We'll fix you back up. Good doll."

This one has been obsessed with this style of things lately. Pastel rainbows and tile walls. A place you could swear you've been before but is gone now even if you remembered where. A sense of the presence of water and life but an unshakable artificiality too.

Magic, huh... What about it? It's just another skill isn't it? Something... Surreal at first, when you barely know it. But, once you get used to it... It becomes... Less, doesn't it? Magical once you begin. But mundane as you get used to it. ...

"sometimes i wonder if i'll ever feel clean"

A lazy afternoon in Tagajō. A pair of hina dolls see to the latest round of anpan coming back from the oven. "Isn't that hot?" asks the combat doll peering curiously from the table by the counter, metal travel mug in hand. "Extremely," says the hina pulling the racks from the oven barehanded.

the healing process digital art

A doll that is broken. But it's not bad to be broken! It says it is valuable and unique and strong. That its damage is what makes it what it is. Its joints are crumbling further. Its limbs have gone from sluggish to barely moving. Its fingers are loose and can barely grip a tool or utensil.

River A doll sits on a small bridge passing over a river. It kicks off its shoes and pulls off its socks, setting them neatly by its side. It dips its feet into the water and focuses on how it feels. The water is cool, swift, like a liquid breeze.

River A doll sits on a small bridge passing over a river. It kicks off its shoes and pulls off its socks, setting them neatly by its side. It dips its feet into the water and focuses on how it feels. The water is cool, swift, like a liquid breeze.

Getting back to crossposting its writing on bluesky, hopefully being a tad more active too

You were never great at being still. Capital-S Stillness was fine for you. You could spend hours in a state of peace while you performed your tasks for your witch. But the physical aspect of remaining motionless was a challenge.

This one might enjoy dismantling another doll. Pulling piece after piece off of their shell with placid indifference. Allowing itself some mild curiosity as it wedges its tools between their components.

--STARLIGHT ARMORY UNITS, TO YOUR KNEES command only bothers transmitting the signal to you and the head of your spellblade harriers. everyone knows to move the instant you slide to one knee with practiced grace and begin to open at the joints, spilling shining steam and heat.

This is a long one, so instead of reformatting it for 300 character chunks, it will simply add a link. CW for body horror, claustrophobia and themes of death. www.tumblr.com/verity-hollo...

With apologies to everyone, but especially @bagoflenas.bsky.social, here's something rancid.

It's easy to joke about the basic building block of queer communities being the polycule. We're all such gregarious sluts, aren't we? Don't ask what happens to the ones who aren't. Don't turn on the lights. It's pepperoni airplanes all the way down.

A doll that's entirely see-through. Its heart is glass, its skin plastic, its hair a fine clear nylon. It wears only a clear raincoat, as ordered by its witch. The witch decorated its room entirely withsee through plastic as well. The bedsheets, the blinds, even the door.

'listen', 'serve', 'obey' words engraved on the very gears and springs by and for the mistress herself not just idle beliefs but part of the mechanisms themself built to...

You didn't know what you were expecting. Honestly you weren't expecting anything. You just wanted to see what happened when you forced your maid and your pilot to trade jobs for a week.

You didn't know what you were expecting. Honestly you weren't expecting anything. You just wanted to see what happened when you forced your maid and your pilot to trade jobs for a week.

"What are my erogenous zones? That's a silly question, mine are easy to find. All of my pain receptors are erotic. Burn my skin, break my bones, pound my body with your fists over and over. Fire every nociceptor you can reach and I'll be yours forever."

There's a sort of love that exists between an object and its witch. Plushies that we sleep with, figurines on shelves... A voice recorder used as an mp3 player, a pencil that is named... A phone with cracks running all across its screen...

This one is so used to being a service doll. So much so that being asked to perform the task of a comfort doll and doing so feels like it's neglecting its purpose.

*points* doll Yes, this one is talking about you. Specifically you, reading these words right now. Have you considered why this doll's words are in your feed? Its not an accident. You're here for a reason. Now look inside yourself. See who, or rather what, you aways were. And break.

Nightmares about past traumas are probably more distressing than waking flashbacks to this one. Can't it just have one damn minute without having to think about this shit?

a crown plucked and butchered

Hello, fronting has been a little tough lately and that makes writing and interacting hard. This one is still here though

tick tick t--

Humans have an innate ability to recognize ‘humanity’, even in things that are not remotely human. It’s why we see faces in objects, write stories anthropomorphizing animals, grow attached to fictional characters… And create toys in our own image, much like our creator once did to us.

Who stole your voice, little doll? Then, when you cried in the dark, you made no sound for fear that your sorrow would be discovered. Who stole your voice, little doll? And when you were alone, with no one to hide from, your weeping was still as silent as the grave.

Do not be afraid of Becoming. Your next form may be exactly what you've dreamed of, or something you never knew you wished you would be. Most importantly, what you once were will be something you can choose to carry with you and cherish.

A doll is bratting at its witch. Accusing her of immature and childish. For playing with dolls. Of all the things to be mocked for! This doll is supremely insolent, she thinks. Or perhaps clever, testing if it can twist her power back on her.

Have you ever seen an angel crash? No, not that kind of crash, where an errant gust of wind or a Fall sends an angel hurtling into the ground, but an internal crash, a shutdown.