chimerasyswrites

[chimerasyswrites]

"So what do you do when you're not kicking ass on the battlefield or winning over everyone's hearts on national TV?" The chat show host flashes a too-white smile as the audience laughs. "What do you do in your off time?"

My off time. Like I could kick off the stiletto heels that are physically part of my feet, wipe away the cherry red colour of my plastic lips, or lay down the weapons built directly into my skeleton.

What do I do in my off time? Absolutely fucking nothing.

"I like gardening!" I say with a smile.

[chimerasyswrites]

This, too, is love.

A doll that says, "I'm sorry."

A witch that says, "You've done nothing wrong."

But, still, the doll apologizes.

It continues to apologize.

Eventually beginning to tear up.

Eventually beginning to sob.

The witch takes the doll into their arms.

Letting the doll's tears dampen their shirt.

Holding the doll as it heaves its wails.

This, too, is love.

=====

Inspired by Io.

[chimerasyswrites]

Fixed Demon

The Former Angel was shaken from her post fall stupor by the noise of footsteps approaching, she weakly rolled over to face them, seeing a cloaked figure approach who knelt by the Angel and pulled back her hood "poor thing, I can't imagine what your fall was like... here, let me take you someplace warm, does that sound good?" The Angel weakly nodded in response before the figure took off it's cloak, gently wrapping the angel in it before picking her up The Angel felt oddly safe in the figures arms, shifting so that she was leaning against her saviour

her state of exhaustion made the rest of the night a bit of a blur for The Angel, she vaguely remembered being washed of the mess created from her fall, being wrapped in a warm bathrobe and being tucked into bed The Angel more clearly remembered the tender hand cradling her cheek and her saviour's wishes goodnight before she left The Angel to rest and she vividly remembered the butterflies in her stomach from it all

[chimerasyswrites]

Broken Angel

The Angel lay alone on the floor, broken in a puddle of her own misery, sin, and blood, sobbing softly as she shuddered on the ground.

everything hurt. her hands hurt where they had burnt as she broke her halo, the holy light burning her hands as she shattered the holy artifact. her back hurt where she ripped her wings from her back, casting the vestigial limbs aside. her spine hurt where her new tail had ripped from her back, now laying limply on the floor next to her. her head hurt where her horns had grown from her scalp, the pain causing her to fall to her side as blood dripped down her face. her soul hurt, where her purity had been burnt away when she finally let herself fall to sin.

despite the pain her tears were not of suffering or loss, they were of relief. her blackened hands, her scarred back, her bleeding forehead, it was all worth it.

she was finally free.

[chimerasyswrites]

Her Vampire

After many more 'hunts' which were honestly nothing than an excuse for The Hunter to come visit Her Vampire (despite constantly telling herself otherwise), she was eventually worn down when after dozens of hunts where instead of being faced with an evil beast baring her fangs, she was met with a lovely woman welcoming her in and asking her to try her tea and cakes (which were never poisoned despite The Hunters suspicions) and asking her about her day.

The Hunter finally gave in, she could no longer hate the monster seated across from her, who was currently excitedly discussing books she'd been reading while eating one of her baked creations (just so The Hunter wouldn't feel odd eating alone she suspected).

as she watched Her Vampire she came to a shocking (and slightly shameful) realization, she loved Her Vampire, and while part of her tried to ignore what she was feeling, justifying it as Her Vampire's charm, deep down she knew her feelings were real.

she was finally snapped out of her stupor as Her Vampire grabbed her chin, at some point having left her chair and come over to the hunter

"are you alright?"

she said it with such sincerity, Her Vampire cared about her... The Hunter felt her heart soar and her face flush, she got up and made some excuse about needing to return to the rest of her guild and that they would worry otherwise. Her Vampire just smiled that knowing smile she did whenever The Hunter made a poor excuse.

as the hunter made for the exit of the manor, she heard Her Vampire behind her, expecting some kind of teasing comment or flirt as was normal of her, but instead-

"be safe my hunter... I am rather fond of you after all"

even though it was said in the detached voice of a lady, The Hunter could tell what Her Vampire meant. and while before she would have bit back at the label of ownership, this time she let it slide (to not cause conflict she justified to herself) however before leaving, she couldn't help but turn back to the lady of the house and speak "don't worry, I'll be back, same time tomorrow?" before Her Vampire could answer The Hunter had already fled, worried Her Vampire would catch a glimpse of her obscenely red face.

she couldn't wait to see Her Vampire again.

[chimerasyswrites]

🪆 dollgirlthing-txt Follow

i love being a doll. dolls are the best thing in the world

🦹 hero-boy Follow

Personally I'm an action figure and not a doll but I support you ✌️ You do you man

🦖 jurassicjake Follow

I love being an action figure. action figures are the best thing in the world

🪖 gi-joker Follow

i couldnt stand being a doll lol. love being an action figure so bad

🪆 dollgirlthing-txt Follow

can you all make your own post

21,843 notes

Based on your likes

🪖 gi-joker Follow

okay, can we talk about the infighting in the toys community?

[chimerasyswrites]

Your Hunter

Being a vampire, you're used to having hunters come after you again and again, but none are like her, Your Hunter, your favourite, even if she refuses to respond to your flirting.

Of course, when a more ancient, powerful, and actually dangerous vampire awakes from torpor, Your Hunter is forced to work with you to stop the ancient, and the two of you grow close. Close enough that after helping them kill the ancient and suffering some rather nasty wounds, she lets you feed on them, just a small bite on the wrist, avoiding eye contact and grumbling with indignation, but you can tell something has changed between you.

Your Hunter can never look at you the same afterwards, whenever you bare your fangs at her, she freezes for a second, face turning almost imperceptibly redder despite these distractions, a few encounters later she finally has you completely at her mercy, stake to your heart, looming over you, before sighing and stepping away, tossing the stake aside and muttering something about owing you for the ancient, but that next time she would kill you and to not go easy on her.

This time, when you flirt with her as she leaves, Your Hunter doesn't groan with indignation and roll her eyes like normal. She freezes for a second before rushing out, trying to appear strong.

You just giggle to yourself and watch her go, Your Hunter is truly Yours now.

[chimerasyswrites]

ok i think one of the major reasons hdg is unappealing to me is because i like my kink to tell a story, i like to craft an interesting and captivating (ha!) narrative, but hdg just feels so insurmountably one-sided, it’s like trying to play pretend but the other kid just keeps going “no, im immune, hits you with my death ray that you can’t dodge or deflect and it goes through force fields and cancels out immunity!!!”

[chimerasyswrites]

fucking adventurers keep breaking into my evil castle insisting they can handle my strongest artifacts :/

[chimerasyswrites]

casual survey: reblog if you want to kiss a girl right now

[chimerasyswrites]

So like I keep on seeing a bunch of my friends who don’t really pay the Affini much mind one day suddenly showing up the next day and they’re pets?? Doped up on class A’s and everything???

Look, I know the Affini do a lot of flirting and they can be pretty pushy sometimes, but I’m not so keen on getting roped into something that I’m rly not into. So I went down to the local domestication office (I KNOW, RELAX) and said that while I’m NOT looking to be domesticated, I just wanted some kind of form to let them know of my preferences JUST IN CASE some Affini comes along and wants to get me zonked the fuck out on xenodrugs. Like if its gonna happen I still want some independence and sobriety, y’know?

Anyway so turns out this kind of form exists (ofc it does) so I’ve filled it out and honestly rly good peace of mind that I won’t just kinda get swept off my feet by some Affini in the street who might not give me a chance to voice any boundaries.

[chimerasyswrites]

Pspspspspspsps

[chimerasyswrites]

starting an elite paramilitary black ops group who sneak into the homes of authors and cut one to three zeroes off any number of years given in a fantasy or sci-fi novel

[chimerasyswrites]

Immersion cooling a robot girl in her slime girl GF

Despite our calculations indicating this would provide suitable cooling it has somehow only intensified her overheating issue.

[chimerasyswrites]

the pilot and the doll

"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. "They said I can't pilot anymore, and..."

"Do you miss it?" the doll chirped.

The former pilot hissed. "I was alive in it, it was me, it felt like I was finally me. Especially in battle--I was myself, I was free." They looked at the doll half-drunk and with hollow hunger.

It was a stare the doll could return. "The truth of metal. The hum and hiss of mechanics. The force of artillery fire, and the grace of a weapon."

They stared at it a bit, sideways. "...Yeah, that's it. You get it."

"Because this one is that," it replied. "It is that all the time. Without a mech."

"That... must be nice. To just be that, be... yourself. All the time." The whiskey glass, empty, was considered for a long moment.

The doll waited for a time. And then spoke. "You could be."

"Huh?" They were shocked for a second, looking up abruptly.

"You could be like this one."

Their shaking head; disbelief. "No, no, I couldn't. No witch would take me."

"You are like this one," it said, and gently went to rest its head on the ex-pilot's shoulder. "And its Master would take you."

They didn't budge it, but... relaxed, a bit. A tear in their eye. "For real...?"

"Come with this one," it said, looking them in the eye, all five of its focusing on their pair. "Become."

There was a long pause, and a shaky breath.

"Alright."

[chimerasyswrites]

For those not accustomed to handling clockwork, tuning your Doll can be troublesome and difficult business. You must remember that her Purpose is there within the gears and cogs, integral to her very being, and she will follow it even to her own destruction. Service Dolls will work until they run out of energy, never once sparing a thought that their key must be wound to keep them functional, or until a component breaks in spectacular fashion. Broken limbs may slow her, but she will work around them as much as she is capable; likewise, cracked porcelain or snapped strings will impede her, but she will continue to move until something critical fails. A Doll in motion will remain in motion until acted on by an outside force. As such, it falls to the Witch to tend to this clockwork properly. Self-maintenance can be taught to the Doll so long as it is framed as a service to you, thus aligning with her Purpose, but beyond this it can be difficult to help her understand why she needs to care for herself. This is frequently solved by keeping multiple Dolls in a group so they form a sustainable circle of each tending to the others with minimal involvement from their Witch. This arrangement is also suitable for estates led by a Lady, as it is still possible for her to dote upon her Dolls without disrupting the cycle.

-M. Hallowdusk, 'The Care and Keeping of Dolls'

[chimerasyswrites]

I hated how small I felt in her presence…

And how much I yearned for her to come closer…

She stood tall, a beacon of radiance in the abyss. Her golden hair was like molten sunlight over her shoulders. Her eyes, piercing grey, stared into mine with an intensity that made me feel stripped bare. Her wings… vast, powerful, and perfect, extended behind her, each feather emitting a gentle glow. She was wrapped in a white gown, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the curves beneath.

“Little one…” she said, her voice a blend of warmth and concern, “what are you doing all alone in this miserable place?”

I scowled. “What does it look like? I’m a demon; I’m exactly where I belong.”

Her smile was soft. “Are you? Or afraid to admit that you don’t?” the words tinged with just a hint of teasing.

I made an attempt to stand and evoke some sense of authority, but something in her gaze made my legs weak. “You don’t know anything about me,” I snapped.

“I know more than you think,” she said, stepping closer. Her wings fluttered lightly. “I know you’re tired… I know you’re hurting… And I know you’re longing for someone to take that burden from you.”

Her words cut deep and true. “Leave me alone,” I stammered unconvincingly, looking away in hopes she would relent.

“Is that what you really want?” Her voice lowered, soft but pointed. “Or are you just afraid to ask for what you need?”

As I opened my mouth to retort, she knelt before me, her fingers brushing my chin, tilting my face towards hers. The heat of her touch seared through me, leaving my skin tingling and thoughts foggy.

“Poor thing,” she mused, her thumb grazing my bottom lip. “You’ve spent so long trying to convince everyone you’re bad, but I can see it in you… the part of you that’s desperate to be good.”

A shiver ran through me, and my resolve crumbled. “I don’t… I don’t know…”

Her lips curved into a smile both tender and wicked. “Let me show you.”

Before I could respond, her arms wrapped around me, pulling me against her. The feeling of her body against mine was overwhelmingly soft, and her warmth seeped into every part of me. Her fingers traced down my back, and resistance faded from my thoughts.

“There’s my good girl,” she whispered, her breath hot against my skin. “So eager, so willing. All you have to do is give in to me.”

I whimpered, my hands clutching at her gown for stability as my head spun. “I… I’ll try,” I whispered.

“Promise me,” she said, her tone firm. Her lips were just inches from mine, close enough that I could feel the heat of them. “Promise you’ll be good for me.”

“I’ll be a good girl… I promise,” I breathed, my chest tight with emotion and want.

The moment the words left my lips, a surge of heat erupted through me. It wasn’t the fiery heat of the Hells; it was gentle as it consumed me. I gasped as a soft glow enveloped me, and my hand moved to above my head.

A halo.