Work Text:
They're gone now. It was easy. They stood no chance against the heat blazing out of your frame, shocked as they were to see you. You effortlessly tore out their innards, igniting their flesh in the process and leaving nothing but a burned-out shell in your wake.
You hadn't thought about what comes next. On some level you assumed that the flame would go out eventually. You hadn't taken into account that your vessel was designed to adjust itself to what it's used for. Something inside you has started producing fuel. You're developing vents along your back so that the flames don't keep spilling out between your joints. You're pretty sure there are some on your hands as well, but they're closed. The flaps are very nearly flush with the surrounding porcelain, and nothing is escaping. Presumably they'll open when needed. The edges of your fingers have become sharp.
As unnerving as all this can be at times, you're quite happy with these changes. They feel… right. They feel good. Sure, you regularly overshoot simple motions as your limbs become continually more powerful than you're used to, but you don't need to worry about being accosted anymore. You're certain you can defend yourself. You don't need anyone anymore. Not even a new witch. You're your own doll, and you've got the firepower to prove it. It feels so nice, knowing that. It feels… warm. You're going to stay on your own for a while.