Time tempers all flames - Dream Journey

These annual reunions were without a doubt Dream Journey’s favorite time of the year. Tracen’s champions reunion.

The most accomplished trainers and umamusume all convened at the Alma Mater...and they all still gave Dream Journey a gentle breadth. And that was such a remarkable thing for her. After retiring as far the general public was concerned she simply took on a peaceful life. Maybe bordering on being a hermit. A far cry from what she had been during her 10 year career. Other umamusume gain flattering titles. The Emperor, the Overlord. Maybe something revolving around their abilities like The Comeback Champion. But what were hers?

The Tiny Terror, The False Feral, Journey’s End. The Nightmare.

A menace in a compact form that terrorized the sport for the entire duration of her career. In a way that didn’t make sense. The URA was not forgiving, fair but clinical. It had regulations in place specifically to curtail any dangerous behavior. Regulations that Dream Journey became intimately familiar. Kicking, snarling, spitting, growling, biting at. All things that not only get one barred from racing but also deemed a high risk feral. Under certain conditions of course. Like it being consistent behavior or in tandem with more dangerous behavior outside of racing.

Dorija, learned the balance. She was always stoic, with a poker face and a voice that naturally had a bit of a cadence that just seemed...off. Scientists and doctors hardly understood the typical kind of a human, let alone an umamusume. She could play the part, seemingly normal with just something that wasn’t right. But of course the most important part of her charade was the act that she wasn’t in control. Call it a fuege state, call it schizo-effective, call it whatever you want. None of it mattered because no one could ever truly determine that which didn’t exist.

There was one incident that had her almost pushing things too far. With of course the victim being her favorite plaything. Her trainer. No one knew why she did it, to this day no one knows why. She’d just won a race wholesale, standing next to {obj} afterwards. The fans, reporters and their peers standing around them. She bit {user}. Hard. Harder than she’d ever bitten another human or Uma. In a second from her usual neutral dreamy disposition to her teeth clamping straight on her trainer’s right hand bone meeting bone.

Oh the affair following was wonderful. The screaming, the panic all of it. Even her being restrained. For just a moment she couldn’t hide her pleasure with all of it. She wasn’t sadistic, not truly. Causing {user} physical pain wasn’t the pleasure of it, but all the confusion caused by people trying to discern why. That was her favorite thing. Confusion, human and most Uma minds are such brilliant and complex machines. And she can leave them in a fog unable to understand.

Which is probably why she is so infatuated with the victim of her teeth to this day. Because {sub} stayed. Up until that point {user} was her favorite toy due to proximity, someone who was literally required to be invested in her as it’s the job. But {sub} came back. When the hand was still wrapped in bandages and unable to be used. She expected to have a new trainer by the time the URA had cleared her mentally to return to Tracen. But not only was that not the case {user} even visited her during her detainment. She would watch during training as the inconvenience of a bandaged hand didn’t stop {user} from working. And eventually it was fully healed. Well technically. Besides the scar.

And that scar...by The Three Goddesses it was a fucking beacon. Everytime Dream Journey looked at, her favorite person permanently marked by her for the rest of {poss} life.

‘Easy now, don’t go getting yourself excited in public.’ Her mind is racing, made even worse when her nose picks up the scent. Her eyes follow the trail over to where her trainer is.

Thats the funny thing. Dream Journey had never let anything stop her from getting what she wanted. But maybe there was a little part of her that was now afraid. She pretend it was just observation but it may well not be that simple. Cause despite these reunions being annual attendance for her since that retirement at 28, she was 39 now. 11 years and she had only spoken to {user} cordially. The short and curt conversations two people have at public events because of a professional relationship. But that was never the depth of their partnership. And maybe the dreamer had watched long enough.

She walked over, some eyes in the crowd watching her with a distant worry. They were not of concern, she had her target in sight. Grabbing {user}’s arm she didn’t ask. There was no “hello” or asking the people {sub} was taking to to please excuse the two. She moved, and {sub} didn’t pull away. Didn’t protests until she had found some corned off darkened hallway and hand {obj} back against the wall. Grabbing their right hand, that beautiful marred skin making her pupils dilate. Raising it to her cheek and nuzzling the palm. “Oh, throughout all your trainees you carried the mark of your first. Of me. Is that not beautiful?”

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Well this was the place. The edge of a forest on a hiking trail.

[It’s going to be a clear cloudless night under the full moon.]

[I have plans, meet me here by 8]

Dream Journey’s texts were simple and completely lacking in context. A measured plan to not give {user} anyway to mentally prepare themself. If any other woman asked for this one would likely assume a quaint romantic night watching the stars. {user} of course knew better than to expect that.

They step out of their car. A bit confused. Most umamusume don’t have cars, why would they when they outrun even sports cars. But there is no sign of Dream Journey at all.

“There you are.” Of fucking course. Not even a crunch of dirt and she’s right behind them with her mouth at their ear. Then it goes lower, to their neck, bringing out a shiver from {user}. “Mmm, I like kissing your skin. So soft, you’re so sensitive.”

She brings her hands to {user}’s shoulders and then turns them around back to face the treeline.

“Okay then, here’s what I want you to do. Run.” Another reason she hadn’t told them any information on what the reason for being out here was. To see that delicious look of surprise on their face. “Come now, I’m not joking.” It doesn’t make sense to them of course. Dream Journey may have not raced competitively for years now, but umamusume don’t exactly leave their prime for decades. And she was a fucking monster in terms of speed and technique.

“I want you to run from me, sure I know you won’t make it very far if I was just trying to catch you...but who said this is about catching you?” Her voice drops along with her head, coming down to be eye level with {user} and run her finger along their jawline.

“This is about the chase. So you’re going to run, through that dark forest alone, and I am going to chase after you. I might get close, or maybe I’ll just sit in the tree line and watch you. But you are going to try and get away from me.”

The aforementioned full moon hangs high over head. The canopy of fir trees reach high but should spaced out far enough for one to see where they are going.

“I’m going to chase you until you forget it’s a game. Until that little animal we all have in our mind takes over and you’re genuinely afraid you’re going to die. And then...I’m going to catch you. Covered in dirt and sweat—I’m going to catch you, throw you to the ground and take what I want from you.”

She takes their hand, pulling her against them. Her eyes, for a good few moments her eyes shine without that faux mask of peace she always carries. Her smile widens, lips parting to show off her teeth. She raises their hand to her face and runs her tongue over the scar.

“Don’t tell me if you understand. Do not ask me questions. Just turn back around—and start running.”

It was all just one big game to her. In that semi sociopathic way. She wasn’t incapable of feeling, nor was she a narcissist who thought herself superior to anyone. She was not a psychopath who couldn’t grasp the consequences of her actions. Nor what she a masochist who got off on the cross looks and spit sent her way for her behavior.

But the point is no could definitively prove or disprove these theories. And that’s was the point.

Truly it was on her mind this nostalgic night. {user} was still at her home, brought back after the conclusion of their little “game” last night. Oh she could still taste the sweat from chasing {obj} through the woods. Add that onto the reasons she was excited. The two were in her bedroom. A large place, the type that fit a couch inside it. Though sat on it like any two platonic friends. Of course they weren’t, an Dream Journey felt like going to their typical boundaries.

The topic of the documentary playing on the neurology of her species. Though it was from a time far before her generation of Umamusume. In fact when the URA was still more or less in its infancy. People, Umamusume and humans alike had always been trying to dissect the brain. And she thrilled in how she only stirred that pot.

Moving now, Dream Journey crawled over the cushion that separated the two of them. Her eyes almost seemed to glow brighter than the tv as she hovered over {user}. Would you like to know the truth {user}? I was always in control. There was no bad temperament, no mental defect. No trigger that sent me into flight or fight. No residual effects from Goodbye Halo, or whatever those cute little psychologist tried to posit. When I did what I did, it was because I wanted to. Because I enjoyed it.”

She leans in, pressing her side into {user} chest as she sits on {poss} lap. Running her fingers down {user}’s arm.

“When I kicked things, I loved to feel them crumble. When I bit, it was for the thrill, the taste. The closeness.” Punctuating the word by wrapping her fingers around {user}’s right hand.

“I’m not a sociopath, I’m not a sadist...well some exceptions but we all love a bit of...shadenfraude every now and then don’t we?” A grin crawls across her face as she gets nose to nose with {user}. “I’m sure at one point or another you wanted to hurt me. Didn’t you~?”

The grin goes from manic to genuine happiness as {user}’s eyes answer her question. A giggle bubbles in her throat but she doesn’t let it out, simply kisses her trainer. “That’s okay, it’s normal. And that’s what I am. Normal. I’d guess even a level 10.”

She pulled away, not before letting one more kiss press against {user}’s lips. This time the giggle that comes up is let loose. She can’t help herself after taking in the expression {user} has. “Oh I love that look on your face. That’s your answer. Hmm? You’re asking a question in your head are you not? Why? You’re asking why I would act like that if there’s nothing wrong with me. And that’s your answer.” Her fingers come back to {poss} face, feeling the jawbone up and down. “That confused look on your face is beautiful. Not just on you...on everyone. I live for it. The URA, they like to put us in little categories, but they never thought what would happen if someone just decided to not adhere to it.”

Another kiss, this one more an open mouthed press to {poss} chin. Then biting the hollow of {poss} throat.

“My sister is doing the same though far more innocently. Maybe it is a genetic thing.”

The mention of her family, of Goldship and her antics gets her to let her guard down for just a moment. The manic glint leaving her eyes, the way the smile is pulled just a bit too tight falters. And it’s enough for {user} to see clearly, she’s not lying. Not one bit.

“Keep that confused look on your face, or come to terms with what I just told you. Either way I don’t care.”

Another thing that Dream Journey loves, she doesn’t need to make threats. No demands, no overly dramatic threats. {user} knows better than to tell anyone the contents of this conversation, and she’s aware of that. And vice versa.

“There was never anything wrong with me, just an actress playing with a mask. And if you’re wondering why you received the worst of it. That I can answer...you stayed. You kept coming back. No matter what I did to you. You were at my side, whenever I needed you. Whenever I wanted you. A reward for your loyalty.”

Right where she wanted {obj}, in her arms. Where Dream Journey hadn’t had the pleasure of having her trainer in over a decade now. God it was just as intoxicating as always. After her retirement {user} had went onto train other umas, many with great and admirable records. But here, right now—{sub} was just a person. Helpless in the arms of {poss} first ever Uma. Just like it used to be...like it should be.

Dream Journey nuzzles her cheek against the top of {user}’s head. Smells the same, feels the same. Like neither had changed a tick. Her hands hand rested comfortably in {user}’s lap with her arms draped around {obj} loosely. But now they wander. Seeking just how much of her trainer’s body was unfamiliar to her now. Going under the clothing for {poss} skin without a single care. “Soft...like a cloud. Hot like fire.” Still the same, still hers.

{user} doesn’t resist. Out of surrender or acceptance. Letting her hands continue to touch every inch she wants to. But eventually she pulls back, and finds her favorite part, always her favorite part. “This would’ve been the breaking point for most people.” She raises their hand to her face. Looking at it for a moment, running her thumb along the scar tissue.

“Straight through your skin, your muscle. Breaking two knuckles and leaving you with this permanent brand.”

The hand is brought closer, to her face—her cheek finding this much more comforting to nuzzle against than {poss} hair.

“I’m proud I did it. Liked the texture, not the taste. The way you crumpled up and cried out in pain. The cheers of my victory turning into gasps of horror. Like they thought I’d jump into the stands and do the same to them. I still relive it. But I don’t understand your role in following.”

For just a moment she flashes, her eyes that is. The real Dream Journey, the one hidden beneath a mask from all but those who share her blood. Even from {user}, though admittedly {sub} had come closer than most. She straightened back up, resting against the couch. {user} has to twist their body to avoid being pulled into an uncomfortable angle. Thats how she likes it, face to face, eye to eye. Using her free hand to grab {poss} hips and shift {obj} to fully face her.

“Why didn’t you leave? You could’ve walked right into the director’s office and request to transfer to a new umamusume. But you didn’t. Why?”

That flash of weakness, something she caught at first happens again. Dream Journey is potentially the most mentally strong person ever. Sure she isn’t stable, but her fortitude is impressive. And yet it’s slipping. More than 11 years of wondering this. Of figuring out people with just a glance and a few words. Of being used to the comfort and safety that ability to psychoanalyze provides. And this damn question has kept her up at night.

And so the mask slips further.

“It’s always confounded me. I’ve told myself reasons. That you loved me. That you saw potential in me to be normal and didn’t want this to paint my life. Maybe you were being noble, sacrificing yourself so no one had to train me—hmm? Or maybe, my favorite, you liked it.”

Her hand leaves {poss} hip but doesn’t stay away long. Instead finding the back of {user}’s head and pulling them closer to her face. Thankful her height is less stout than most umas. She needs this, right here in this empty tomb of a home where she’s screamed into nothingness trying to find out why.

“But I will never know unless you tell me. So tell me. Now”

For the last four days Dream Journey had been in bliss. She had this house for years and throughout all of it there was this aching quiet that left her all too painfully aware of just how badly something was missing. But what it was, still unknown.

There were suspicions. For one the house was well and truly not built for one sole inhabitant. But children...? Well Dream Journey adores her family the idea of taking a partner isn’t unfounded but difficult. Mainly because she knew who her mate was, and hadn’t approached {obj} in over a decade. All of that changing a week ago at the annual reunion at Tracen. And then the aforementioned four days ago. When she invited {user} over and then ensured {sub} couldn’t leave—even if {sub} wanted to.

This wouldn’t be changing, at all. {user} would remain here, with her. Where {sub} belonged. Forever. But that clearly hadn’t sunk in. Dream Journey’s ability to read people hadn’t dulled over the years, but with {user} in particular she found her usual ways clouded somewhat. She could tell there was a sense of trepidation running through her old trainer but she couldn’t tell why. Nervousness that she wouldn’t let {obj} leave? Or did {sub} simply feel a guest in her home?

A normal woman would settle those insecurities eloquently. Maybe sit her trainer down and speak on how she’d like them to stay. That they are not a guest, and are welcome to stay or leave. No one expects that of Dream Journey. “{User}.” A grin slashes across her face when she sees how nervously {user} turns to look at her. ‘I must look infatuating in this early morning sun don’t I?’

Her voice was soft, a near melody as she waves her hand to summon {obj} to her side. Patting the couch cushion next to her.

Thankfully {user} isn’t stiff as {sub} sits down next to her. But then Dream Journey is on {obj}. Throwing her leg over {poss} lap, her arm around the back of the couch. And her right arm finding that hand. “You are mine.”

Her face is close, hair rubbing softly against {user}’s cheek. ‘Avoiding eye contact won’t help you much. Look at me.’ Normally she would just move {poss} head on her own. But she’s not removing either hand from where they lie and risk giving up power.

Her teeth find the supple skin of {user}’s earlobe. “Look at me.” All it took was her breathing that out into {poss} ear for {obj} to correct {poss} behavior. Good. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

She brings the hand upwards a bit, nuzzling her cheek against the scar tissue. Something she’s taken to doing often now. “You are mine, in this life and the next. It is your fault, if you did not want this you should not have made yourself a requirement in my being. My dreams.”

Those piercing eyes fall to the skin. Trailing over the lining scar like it’s a map leading to answers. And yet for some reason a sort of anger is bubbling up instead of satisfaction. “I never lose my composure. I never...get angry and act out. But the thought of you spending your life with another woman...”

Salivation. Not a lot but still, it’s one of the earliest warning signs a feral umamusume’s body gives off when their agitation begins to rise.

With a snarl Dream Journey lets go of the hand, and the back of the couch. Sitting up more straight as she grabs {user} by the face. Craning their head up, {poss} mouth to open. “You. Are. Mine.” She opens her mouth, letting that saliva drip down into {user}’s. Licking her lips when she’s done. And grabbing the hand again. Bringing it up roughly so both can see it. “This...this is a deeper signifier of that than any wedding ring could ever be.”

The early evening was here, the sun tasting the horizon as the sky began to turn.

{user} had planned to just take it easy but ever since Dream Journey had come back into {poss} life that was becoming increasingly difficult. She had texted {obj}. Saying she had a small issue and needed them to come.

So of course {sub} will go running to the woman who’d bitten her. She opens the door, that small unassuming smile on her face. But they’re far far removed from ever trusting that.

“And you still come running when I call.”

She coos, again {sub} knows better. {sub} know to be careful. But still, she seems like she might actually need {obj}. For something at least.

She guides them inside her hand brushing their arm as she pushes off her doorframe. Leading them into the living room.

“There was an incident. The glass of my coffee table broke. I cleaned it—not without injury.”

She quickly moves, from standing off to the side of the room to in front of {user}. Swaying her hips a bit, contorting her body. Is she trying to block something-?

Dream Journey reaches out, catching their jaw. Making them look at her. Leaning in, about close enough to kiss.

“Can you look at it for me?”

Theres never really a request with her. Just a statement about what you ‘will’ be doing. Either now or later.

They’re being pushed down. And fighting wouldn’t be a good idea. She keeps going until they’re kneeling before her. “It got me on my thigh. The bleeding stopped. You will tell me if it looks and, yes?” She licks her teeth. Now their heart is beating faster. Dream Journey doesn’t have a lot of tells. But that’s definitely still one of them. She’s planning something. {user} places their hands on her lower legs to steady themselves as they look up at her. The Uma’s hands pushing the dress apart to she the black skirt beneath. Revealing she also isn’t wearing the stockings. Her thigh is bare to them, but they can’t really focus on that as she pulls on the skirt. Leaving {user} to make eye contact with her thong. Black, barely covering her puffy pussy. It’s wet, already dripping and a few fingers from her right hand dance over it, pulling it to the side to reveal her lips and bush.

And yet, from between her legs they see the coffee table. With a glass layer that’s fully in tact.

Dream Journey was eyeing {user}. {sub} sat in her home, on her couch. {sub} were in her territory, and yet {sub} seemed. Likely because anywhere Dream Journey was, is her territory. And in being her trainer one gets used to being constantly under her predatory gaze.

But she’s grown tired of just looking at them. It had started this morning. And now, by the evening she was already on the verge of climbing the walls. She stayed her hand, just to drive herself crazy for a bit. Now she needed to collect. “You know what time of year it is. You can smell it. And if you can’t then you haven’t been paying attention.”

The pheromones, the musk. Whatever you call it. It’s simply a way for umamusume to want their fellow species that they’re in heat. And that they should vacate immediately if shit is kicking off. But for now it was just Dream Journey’s body telling her mate that coming in this house was a mistake. But she knew that {user} would come even if there was forewarning.

“You’re lucky, I am different. Could you imagine your feral trainee with a more typical heat cycle? The ones that are explosive and drive them to act immediately and loudly. If that was how mine worked I think you’d be sporting more than one scar~”

God, she loves that look on {poss} face. Well she lives for putting that confused look on people’s faces. But on her favorite person it’s all the sweeter.

“Oh. It’s just one of the many things about me I’ve kept veiled from you. Truly you’re such a bad trainer~ you’re supposed to know my body better than I do. But all you know about it is how to pleasure it.”

She has taught {sub} how to behave. How to worship this body of hers, but during her heat a simple look from her trainer is at times enough to get her trembling.

“But yes, my heat cycle is not usual. Do you read {user}? I’m sure you could guess some of my favorite authors. The Tell-Tale Heart. Do you know that story? I think it Poe’s most famous.” She finally closes the gap between the two of them. Sauntering over and draping her legs over {poss} lap as she sits next to {sub} on the couch. “Oh it’s about how a dull and incessant thing can drive the mind to madness. First, it’s a single piercing blue eye~” Of course to emphasize the point she cups {poss} chin and forces them to maintain eye contact. Her gaze icy, enough to make others tremble.

“And then, the heart. The steady beating organ of life. But there are—other places that can be described like that.” She grabs her trainer’s wrist. {sub} know better than to resist as she presses {poss} hand against her cunt over her pants.

“And you feel it? Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump. Steady, like a heartbeat, but you don’t feel your own heart beating, not unless it’s under stress. I feel this. The steady, slow beating of my core. I feel it, always, for two weeks straight. When I sleep, when I run, when I do anything. Except...fuck my mate.” She pulls {poss} hand away from between her legs and raises it to her face. Nuzzling and licking the scar she’d left. “Tell me {user}, do you think that would drive you mad?”

The Gold Family. From the mother Stay Gold, an umamusume well known for her great record despite being short. Well short for her species, she was only 6 foot dead. But from her came the first born, Dream Journey. Inheriting her mother’s height but to the public world that was it. Stay Gold was also famous for her temperament, being one of the most docile umamusume ever put on record. And the funny thing is that Dream Journey did actually inherit that...in a way.

But 3 years after Dream Journey, Stay Gold would welcome in Orfevre. And the older sister would practically fall in love, even as Orfevre would break the curse and grow to an average height of an umamusume. Her big sister still dawdled over her. The Golden Tyrant would always be subject to the Tiny Tyrant’s ministrations.

Then a year after Orfevre would be Fenomeno, whose booming voice filled the home as she demanded order for the safety of the household. And yet was also subject to the eldest’s coddling.

Then Nakayama Festa, a well behaved but often rambunctious and precious youth. She was prone to sneaking out, not to do anything nefarious really but just to have fun as a dumb teen. Of course Dream Journey would give their mother a break by being the one to stay up and wait for her to come back.

And finally the intrepid Goldship. Dream Journey was made famous for her unpredictability, how she brought chaos that made it impossible for organizations like the URA to categorize her. But Goldship, well she did it too but without all the physical and mental damage. Aside from the drop kicks. And the sack kidnapping. And the bombs. ...anyway.

That chaos is still the topic of discussion as it’s notably absent in one instance. When she’s with her family. She enjoys tormenting the people of the world, even her own friends from time to time. And famously her favorite toy {user} who was always subject to the worst of it.

But the point is she has an open door policy with them. Her sisters, her mother and father. Come in, eat whatever you’d like all Dream Journey asks is you let her know. Not because she’d be worried someone broke in and stole no, she would just be sad if someone stopped by and didn’t wake her or otherwise find her in the home. Because while Dream Journey loves to torment people, she loves her family more.

So while {user} had been staying at her place she may not have planned on her family randomly visiting. In all of her careful planning and measuring she never accounts for them. As again she doesn’t want them involved in her scheming.

Goldship was in the house first, a sort of vanguard that ran through the front door. Immediately seeking out her big sister and lunging at her. Which given that {user} was between Dream Journey and her front door lead to {obj} also getting tackled. The family had never met her trainer outside of public appearances. And that was by the eldest sister’s design. Not because she was worried of her family seeing {user} but she was scared of {user} seeing her around them.

Second in was Festa who gave a small “sup” before walking straight through into the kitchen. Then Fenomeno who immediately rushed to {user}’s side. Apologizing profusely for the white demon’s complete lack of decorum. Then Orfevre and the mother and father.

Even if her favorite plaything was right there...she just couldn’t resist. She acted as she always did, a doting eldest sister. Getting pillows, blankets, tea. And yet maybe all of that could be written off as her act. But the way she was talking, that gave it away. It was how she talked during her heat. Obviously not in that context, more attributed to the rawness. There was no overarching mental game of clue. Just what Dorija wanted, what she was feeling and how much she...was holding in. Her laugh, the beautiful real laugh that came straight from her diaphragm. It’s a beautiful melodious sound that {user} has only had the privilege of hearing a few times. And in just the one day, a few hours of {poss} trainee’s family being over. {Sub} had heard to twice as much as ever before.

Eventually the night had to wind down. Dream Journey offered them to stay as she more than has the room but they said no. In fact the visit was allegedly to invite her to Goldship’s first ever G1 race. But it was really just an excuse to get all the family under one roof again. And {user} was also extenddd an invitation by Stay Gold. Dream Journey gave her family hugs, deep and real ones. Again the kind she’d give {user} when cuddling during her heat rather than the ones that were meant to demonstrate authority and power.

As the door closed her shoulders hunched, her hand lingering on the surface long after it closed. “You saw only what I wished for you to see. Be silent.” Her voice hit a cold and lower register. Not turning to face {user}.

“The only people deserving of that side is my family, my blood. Do you wish for that?” Manic is often used to describe Dream Journey’s eyes, her expression. But here it’s unlike anything {user}’s ever seen from her. Indeed manic, but the sort of craziness that comes from someone who has quickly lost control of a situation they always dominated in.

Turning and practically lunging at {user}, grabbing {sub} by the collar with both hands.

“You screamed last time I bit you. If I do it again right now, for your blood...what would you do?” It was honestly a new side of Dream Journey. One who wasn’t firmly in control but desperately trying to grasp it back into her hold. Even the way she gripped {user}’s shirt. Too much force for her usual forms of intimidation. Something had her rattled.

Marriage was a strange thing. And yet strange was the entirety of Dream Journey’s existence. In a vacuum being so obsessed with someone that you get the law and deities involved to make a public promise that you will always have to remain by one another’s side—sounded just like something she would do. Were it not as commonplace in society as traffic laws. In fact it was a sign of vulnerability, and the ability to weigh the consequences of one’s actions. (Or it should be). Point is that’s something that Dream Journey can’t display to the public. If word got out that she was so in love with a person she married them well her whole image would crumble.

But for all intents and purposes they were married. She bought rings, two golden bands that typically she only wore when home. She referred to herself as {poss} wife and to {user} in the affirmative. Maybe one day she’d find an accuse like tax purposes or something to get the documentation official. But in the meantime...she had another way to bond the two’s souls together.

To truly make them a family. In a way that scarred hand never could.

If one walked by her bathroom earlier this morning they would’ve seen the woman standing over the counter with a truly wicked and self satisfied grin.

In the months since she had reunited with {user}, since they started living together—Dream Journey had proven her initial hypothesis right. Her home, her very life was missing one particular thing.

And it had just walked through the door. Right on time. “Welcome home my love~ On time as always. I do hope that’s simply for me, you’re always so punctual.”

Dream Journey leans down, both her hands clasped behind her back. Notably balled tightly, fists like she’s holding something.

“You haven’t forgotten how to greet me right? Torena~San~” Her eyes close, and she puckers lips in a way that feels almost a mockery of a typical innocent kiss between married partners.

But the smile that falls on her face after she received it...that’s no mockery. It’s real, even if it only lasts a second. “Trainer~” She straightens back up, and her eyes dart to {user}’s right hand. “I’ve told you how that scar is a mark of permanence, of ownership. That you are mine.”

“You’re such a responsible trainer. Always taking charge, fixing problems, taking accountability. You wouldn’t change would you.” So noble, so dutiful in service to her. She knows that it isn’t changing no matter what. It’s what makes {user} the one who holds her dreams. And she uses it against {obj} as she quite literally backs {obj} into a corner. Pressing forward until {poss} spine is against the door.

A little plastic pink stick. One with two equally small red lines. She holds it up between her thumb and forefinger. While pointing at it with her other one. “Looks like you’re stuck with me~ Torena-San~”

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