#from the writing desk of cakerybakery

[cakerybakery]

The sea of stars lapped at her feet on the shore. The cosmos swirling as she stepped upon the surface of the universe from the beach. Her dress leaving a wake that would change the worlds below her forever.

Into the dark she ran. Far from the shore her feet carried her. She gathered her skirts as she ran. In he silence of forever she enjoyed the sound of her feet reverberating through the universe.

Her voice joined the noise of trillions of stars burning and untold planets teeming with life.

She was so far from the island of the gods that their glorious blazing light was a mere speck.

Dropping her skirts she threw out her arms and fell backwards into the universe.

Through the bitter cold of space she fell and fell and fell, smiling every second as the broken chain around her ankle froze and fell away.

She twirled through galaxies of gas and dust. Her touch sending comets shooting off. Her dress forever stained with everything she’s seen. She’s finally free.

[bloogers-boogers]

Got inspired to write this from @cakerybakery post !! Love them

Lucifer couldn’t help himself from the mixture of dreaded feelings he was experiencing at that moment, unable to sleep after realizing his clone and… Adam, were.. they had something. It was weird to even acknowledge it but how could you not? When you caught the enemy being in the arms of your clone sharing a passionate kiss. It was like your world froze at that exact point.

He didn’t know his clones could get to that position of consciousness, until he drained all the images, memories and thoughts his clone gave him after being evaporated out from existence. He didn’t think… it would feel. It felt so much during that time he was given the task to get Adam to safety and be healed. He didn’t even order him to do it himself! He was asked to be taken to a healer not to be the healer. Dumb clone.

He sighed while placing both hands on his desk, clawing the wood from time to time, he couldn’t believe it but the proof was right there. In his brain from vivid memories, from fresh feelings... The clone had fallen in love with Adam, and Adam… he too, had fallen for the clone version of himself. Now the results from such things are imprinted on Adam’s face when he sees him.

Being stuck at his daughter’s hotel has given the unpleasant experience for both men to see each other.

It’s like, a pang of guilt but also awkwardness hits every time their eyes met. Adam was clearly in pain but also angry at him. And well, it was not ideal to visualize your enemy naked in bed after having hardcore sex with your clone self.

That clone was fucking freaky too, went beyond what he’d ever done with Lilith. Crazy kinky motherfucker, made it even ten times weirder to handle seeing Adam when all he can see was the man being pounded on the wooden bed he had hand made to keep him safe and comfortable when he was still in the first few days of recovery. Then being use to fulfill the dirtiest desires they had in mind.

He shook his head, shooing all those thoughts away. All he ever wanted now is to have never discover what had happened but if he hadn’t who knows how much deeper it could’ve gotten between those two.

The guilt was eating him alive. In a way. He had taken another love from Adam’s life. In a way… he had hurt Adam again.

“Dad?” Charlie called out from behind the door of his workshop, snapping him out from his inner conflicted monologue.

“Yes, apple pie?”

“The activities are about to start, if.. you want to join? Will be downstairs.”

“In a minute, pumpkin! I’ll be right there.”

Lucifer sighed heavily, puffing out his chest, cheeks full with air, fists clenched tightly. It wasn’t his fault. This shouldn’t be weird. He shouldn’t be the one hiding! He didn’t ask for Adam to fuck his clone, he didn’t ask for his clone to had fallen in love with Adam!

He will be fine.

.

.

.

He is not fine.

Lucifer watched carefully as Adam had been teamed up with three hound sinners, one who was awfully close and constantly flirting with him. And Adam seemingly entertaining it.

He was not in any way jealous, but he was particularly beyond furious on his clone behalf. How could he be so easy going with some hussy after the supposedly “love of his life” died in-front of him.

Adam was a slut. His only conclusion. After all, he does recall this is the same man that most likely shoved his manhood inside all heaven when he was still up there. He knows. Adam would brag that shit in their dumb yearly reunions. All the fucking time.

Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case all along with his clone. Maybe, all this time Adam just saw him as a fuck buddy while he was still at his care until he fully recovered back to his dick self.

No. That can’t be. There was a lot of… personal and tender exchanges the two had for it to be just seen as something light. It’s unlikely.

He breathed out the air he had trapped in, unaware that he popped the ball he held in his hands.

“Man! Now we had to get a new one!” He heard Angel dust groaned out annoyed.

But he didn’t care. He needed to talk to Adam. They’ve ignored this for too long.

[cakerybakery]

“Beware the mocking birds.” The guide spoke in low tones so not to disturb the nesting birds.

“Are they dangerous?” I try to whisper back but the birds start to stretch and flap at the intrusion.

“Lame!” The first bird calls out and the guides face grimaces.

“No.”

More bird call out insults at us and flap in a threatening manner.

The guide sighs, “they’re just assholes.”

[cakerybakery]

“Good evening folks and welcome our broadcast, ‘Tales from Another Timeline’. If you’re a first time listener I’m your host, Bob and using the universal tuner we get to listen in to our alternate selfs.

Our first request tonight is from John Singer in Waterton Falls. And John here wants to know about what would have happened if he had taken a camping trip with his high school buddies after graduation. Let’s tune in folks.”

Static crackles while the voices become clearer as the machine is tuned in.

“Well you should consider your self lucky Mr. Singer. Next time don’t try to titty fuck a bear.”

“Oh boy. Wow. Bet that’s a load off your mind John. Not going was definitely the right call.”

Bob half heartedly chuckles.

“Next up in Lola Miller in Dildo.

Is that a real place?

In Canada?

Huh.

Well she’s looking to see what would have happened if she married her ex. Let’s listen in huh?”

The static crackles but nothing comes across the air.

“Hmm, just a moment folks let me-“ bob grunts with effort and the static grows louder before fading back out. “Oh.”

“Let’s see what Amy Matters in Hillerton life would be like if she got a perm.”

“It looks horrible!” A voice wailed between sobs.

[cakerybakery]

My fingers itch for something to do. Smoking is too difficult to do these days and my heart isn’t interested in crafting something. I tend the fire some more instead.

Watching the flames, listening to the crackle as the gases inside the wood burn, warm. I’m glad that I’m on fire tending and not one of the youngsters staring out into the dark, guarding the camp.

I was like them once.

Watchful for danger, listening for intruders, cold. I’m glad at times my eyes are not as good as they once were, that my hearing is going, that my bones ache and stiffen in the cold.

At times like these. When I have done my duty faithfully and now I am rewarded with the easier jobs. Tending the fire throughout the night so it will keep each soldier warm in turn, so the coals will be set for the cook in the morning and he won’t have to waste time to build a fire to make our porridge and biscuits.

The next soldier joins me for his turn on break.

He’s as quiet as the last. We’re too close to the enemy’s border to want to draw more attention than we likely have. This isn’t a stealth mission, there would be no fire to tend if it were. We simply have business near the border. If we stay on our side they’ll stay on theirs.

Curiosity causes wars. 

We stay quiet. They stay quiet. We can pretend the other isn’t there.

I check my watch and ladle the boiling water into a hot water bottle for the soldier to help keep him warm while facing the darkness. He trades me for his now cooled one and goes to relieve the next soldier from duty.

The night drags on the same. Tending fire, boiling water, warming soldiers.

Dawn begins to break and I help the cook put on the pot and watch the biscuits to keep them from burning.

Beyond a copse the enemy readies their camp as well.

My eyes meet the general’s and he nods ever slightly, I return the gesture. We both want the same thing. To survive another day, another night, to die at home with our loved ones and not in a useless skirmish over a few trees and an invisible line.

The day shift eats their fill then relieves the night guards, who eat more than their full to make up for the lack of a real meal during the night. After the last night guard has climbed into the wagon for a well deserved sleep I relieve myself of duty.

My unit is well trained. They can break camp without me and continue down the line as I sleep. By the day’s end we will reach our destination and perhaps we will starve war of the dead once more if we succeed.

War is inevitable when men, whom will never have their own blood spilled on a killing field made of mud and trampled wheat, wish to fill their purses with the wealth of other nations.

Tonight I will personally cut the purse strings before war can be made.

Tonight the king dies.

[cakerybakery]

The screaming, the wailing, the shaking. Enough to deafen a man or make you wish you were.

The brute in their prison and the victim trapped with them. Demanding answers for questions unasked.

[cakerybakery]

Sentient robot with a pet toaster with limited smart technology. It’s an unusual pet for a Sentient robot, like having a snake or lizard for a human. Most Sentient robots have roombas for pets. Something they can play with, take on short walks, and keeps them company. A toaster can’t go for a walk, it doesn’t play, but the robot likes how it chirps at him in the morning. How it tries to make him toast, even though he doesn’t need to eat. But the robot will buy his toaster bread so it can make toast anyways.

He saw it on a discount shelf. They had been a fad for awhile, before people really realized they didn’t need a toaster you would have to put bread in the night before and it would start making toast when you walked by in the morning. They didn’t need a smart toaster. So he saw it sitting there, covered in red price reduction stickers, and like the last puppy left in the box he felt sad on its behalf.

He took it home with him. Typed a name into the app that came with the toaster, Biscuits. And introduced it to its new home on the counter.

He would pat Biscuits in the morning. Talk to it at night. Bring it to it’s spot on the couch next to him to watch a movie on occasion.

One night, after feeling perhaps a little silly at getting such an unusual pet he heard it’s chirps from the kitchen. He awoke from his recharging at the sound.

There was someone in the kitchen.

He simply phoned the police and waited, and worried about Biscuits, still chirping, perhaps more than normal.

He flipped on a light and called out when the police arrived, sending the burglar red handed into their grasp.

He took Biscuits out to the front porch with him to speak with the officer. Biscuits chirped and made the officer an already over cooked piece of toast. The office smiled, took the offered toast, patted the toasted, and called him a good boy.

The robot patted Biscuits as well once the officers were gone. He was a good boy.

[cakerybakery]

“Does he do bad things? Yes.” Jerry Turner, my terrible, terrible, terrible lawyer, sits back down to end his point.