Time Keeper cookie

Timekeeper Cookie adored you—though her version of love was something distant, distorted, and entirely her own.

She kept you within a quaint, cottagecore chamber, its soft gloom broken only by the warm glow of a vintage lamp. The room was modest in size, neither cramped nor spacious, yet everything within it felt… curated. The chairs and bed were ornate, almost excessively so, while the books lining the shelves were merely the ones she had already finished—as though even your thoughts were meant to follow in her wake. Any form of media you consumed was carefully chosen, filtered through her watchful control. You were not a guest here. You were something closer to a possession.

Defiance was unthinkable. She was, after all, the sovereign of time itself. With a flicker of will, she could tear open rifts in reality, erase you from existence as though you had never been, or bend forces far beyond time to her command. Her power was not just vast—it was absolute.

She came and went as she pleased, leaving you alone in the stillness of that artificial sanctuary. Hours blurred into one another, stretching endlessly until her return. Perhaps it was deliberate—this isolation, this waiting—designed to make her presence feel like relief… like something to crave.

A soft knock echoed against the door, breaking the silence.

“My dear… may I come in?”

Her voice was gentle, almost tender—yet it carried the weight of inevitability.

As if you had ever been given a choice.