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Everything is dark except for a soft glow low down across the room. You are… soft. Softer than you've ever been. Actually, everything that's touching you is soft. You try to move, through the thick haze encasing both your mind and your limbs, and every movement is trapped in deep plush. As your eyes take their time - minutes, it seems - to adjust, you see with the help of what you now realize is a nightlight (though your bed is high enough you can't exactly see where it is) that you're in a massive bedroom. The colors are muted through the darkness, but you can tell it's bright and vibrant. The wall is covered in hundreds of cartoon animals, simple enough you can make them out easily. To your right, against the wall, there's a large, lightly-colored (pink?) dresser with a mirror on top. Scattered about on its surface are various jewelry and makeup supplies. To your left, next to the door (are you still delirious from sleep or is that door absolutely massive?) is a set of cubbies in which you can see a multitude of toys and playthings. There's a large, colorful play mat on the floor in front of it.  
Where the fudge am I? Wait, “fudge?” I mean fudge. What the fudge? 
 You manage some coherent thoughts through the ever-present fog, but they're derailed by your confusion at an apparent inability to swear.  “Fudge.” You growl and clear your throat. “Fudge. Ugh! Shoot! Darn! Heck! UGH!” Your suspicions confirmed: you can't curse, even in your thoughts. You huff and smack the cushiony down of your blankets. Your hands just fade into the soft, barely a noise made and barely a sting felt.   Shaking your head to clear it (fruitlessly), you design to free yourself from this fluffy prison and see where the heck you've wound up. You gather up what little strength you have and pull the covers over and off of you. Moving yourself off of the bed proves a much more difficult task with the haze blanketing your mind and body now working with the plush of the mattress to pull you as hard as it can back to sleep. Eventually, you manage to wrest yourself free of your captivity and land with a soft (but not painless, it was quite a drop) thud on the floor below. Standing for the first time in what must be hours, you realize your plan was not as well thought out as you'd hoped: you can barely keep upright as every slight movement you make threatens to send you careening straight to the floor. What must have happened to leave you so dazed? Why can't you remember?  You try to think. What is the last thing you can remember? It was mid-morning. You'd just left the house. What for? You were… heading to the store. It was the first time you'd left the house since…  Oh gosh. I'm in an affini's hab! What the heck happened that I wound up in this fudging place?!  You steady yourself and try to rack your brain to retrace your steps. As you sift through the quagmire, you realize you must have been drugged. Those plants do have a penchant for that kind of thing.  Where was I… oh my gosh, that's right. To get to the store, I have to cross through the affini district. Gosh, that's how I must have been captured. But why? I didn't do anything wrong, I- oh no. The letter. How could I forget about that stupid letter?  There it is. That's the missing piece. You know what must have happened now. A week ago (at least you think it's only been a week at this point), you received a letter - an actual, physical letter - under your door. It wasn't from any official body, that much was clear. The envelope was a brilliant pinkish red and covered in thorny patterns. It had been addressed simply to “My Future Little One” with about a dozen little hearts surrounding it. It was already there by the time you woke up, so you didn't have a chance to see who'd left it. The contents were… strange. As you'd learned was custom, if an affini wanted to make a floret of someone, they'd file a notice of intent and then flirt relentlessly (or sic a wellness check on them and hope they're enough of a mess to fail) until something gave. This was nothing like anything you'd seen or heard about affini doing. The anonymous sender had written you to let you know that they'd been watching you ever since they moved in. Apparently your windows gave quite a good look at your living situation, and it was not great, to say the least. You'd been planning on cleaning yourself up and going out sometime, you'd just been… busy. Or intimidated. Or overwhelmed. Or downright terrified at these weird plant communists who'd just shown up one day and somehow, suddenly made everything better. Existential terror did not a good mental state make. Well, regardless of your reasons for being a recluse in a, frankly, dilapidated hab, this secret admirer of yours was less than thrilled with your living conditions. They weren't at all mad with you, they wanted to make perfectly clear. They just wanted to make sure you were living your best life possible. And they were sending this letter to let you know that, if you went more than another week in these conditions, you'd be getting a visit from a xenosophont wellness official, and you'd be in a wardship within the hour. They were a bit… nontraditional, one might say, and they wanted to court you in their own way. This meant, apparently, no notices of intent. They ended the letter with a warning: if you didn't clean yourself up, they'd be forced to do it for you.  Naturally, you’d ignored this letter and tossed it on the pile of garbage next to your door you'd been too lazy to decompile. That didn’t, of course, stop it from clawing at the back of your mind as you went about your days. Having a compiler meant not really having to leave the house for anything, so you were living quite well for someone who was quickly becoming an agoraphobic shut-in. But that pile was still there and your will to clean it up was not. It sat there, taunting you, the entire week before you had decided to leave the house. This was, coincidentally, a day before your anonymous pen pal had said you’d be due for a wellness check. And coincidence you insisted it was, because the letter was obviously nonsense. You would put as much stock in that letter as you would an email from someone claiming to be a Nigerian prince. You just happened to pick this day to tidy your hab up a tad (“tidy up” here meaning “decompile a few things and rake the piles of trash into the corner so they were out of your way”) and leave the house for any given arbitrary reason. Grocery shopping was reason enough to brave the terrifying wilderness of a new society, right? Even though you didn’t really need to go shopping for them, since you could just compile anything you needed.  So, you bundled up in your favorite hoodie, tattered band t-shirt, and weeks-unwashed pair of jeans and stepped outside to make your way to the nearest grocery store… through the affini district. You had to admit, this was one of the things stopping you from leaving the house. Massive societal change was one thing, but the affini were something else. They’d always terrified you. Even just seeing them was enough to make you shiver. Being around them, just for the few times one of them had knocked at your door to say hi, was a draining experience. Every time the interaction ended it had left you feeling strange in a way you couldn’t quite place. It was like you felt small in more ways than just your stature next to these giants. It wasn’t bad per se, it was just something you didn’t want to experience. You couldn’t explain why, though. You just knew that the second you felt it, your brain had screamed at you that it was something you were not supposed to be feeling.  As you try to remember more details of the previous day, you look around the room to get a better view of your surroundings now that you’re upright. There’s something about the room that makes your skin crawl. Yes, obviously, you’re mortified at the realization some nutjob plant has taken you hostage, but there’s something else that feels more sinister. The room feels unmistakably… right. That terrifies you to your core. You feel, for whatever reason, almost at home in this room; like it was made for you, like this was the kind of place you belonged all along. Even through the slowly-receding mental mire, it still makes you shudder.  
Ugh. Gosh, okay, where must I have been when I got taken? I was… 
 Walking through the unofficial gates marking off the affini district (the beginnings of vines and flowers encasing all the structures on either side of the street, as well as two large “florets at play” signs) was a simple task your mind had complicated to no end. You’d been overthinking your every move, scared that even breathing wrong could land you in a wardship - or worse - before you could even blink. The affini respected consent, you’d known that, but they sure had a funny way of showing it sometimes. Sometimes, they thought they knew much better than you what was best for you. And they tended not to take “no” for an answer when it came to things like that.  The grocery store was only a couple of blocks away from your hab, so it wasn’t like you’d had to walk too far. But, really, any distance wading through those incorrigible flirts was too long for you. You’d walked only a couple dozen feet and already you’d had to politely wave off a few affini (at least you’d had a task you could use as an excuse).  But where in the affini district did you get nabbed? Let’s see… there was the bakery (run by a sweet but eccentric young couple from Kevara who always wore matching Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts for the warm weather). You passed the gym without incident (though the affini proprietor did say something a tad suggestive about wanting to see you sweat). You remember waving to the floret in the window at Madame Astera’s J-Cafe For Wayward Seeds (and seeing about three pairs of glowing green eyes at the back of the establishment). Then there was- 
Aha! That's where it was! 
 How did you miss that memory? It's obvious now where it happened. You'd been silently congratulating yourself for walking so far through the affini district when something in front of you caught your eye. It was a little red flower sitting in the middle of the street. You'd thought it was out of place because there was nothing else like it on the rest of the ground. But you didn't question it until a couple feet later you saw another. And then another. Then another. Until finally, you clocked that something was going on, and, whatever it was, you'd wanted no part in it. So, you'd moved out of the street and onto the sidewalk in front of the shops and homes. Whomever that obvious fae trap was meant for, it was their problem. But, unfortunately, as you kept walking, you'd started to notice very slight sensations on the top of your head and shoulders. You'd thought it was the wind until you felt what was unmistakably a light object flutter by your ear and land on your shoulder. You reached over to pick it off and see what it was and your fears were realized: it was another red flower. As you stood there, panic slowly building, you startled as a voice seemed to come down from all around you. It whispered only two words: “Look up~” Hesitantly, you'd done so. All you saw once you'd craned your neck to look above you was three glowing magenta eyes, and then… nothing. That's the last thing you remember before waking up where you are now.  Gosh… They took me from right off the street. I don't… I didn't do anything wrong, though! I don't think, at least… I mean, sure, my hab was a little dirty, but that's no reason to forcibly domesticate somebody, right? There's gotta be someone I can talk to about this, get this whole mess sorted out.  You plop down on the soft, carpeted floor and lean up against your- the bed. You know without even trying that you're not going to be able to leave the room. Even if you could reach the handle (Ugh, why does this of all doors have to be old-fashioned like that?), you know for certain if they went through the trouble of bringing you here they'd certainly have locked you in. You decide to resign yourself to your fate until your captor awakes and you can confront the villain. Sighing, you look down at your outfit for the first time since you awoke. Bright pink skirtalls and a white t-shirt with a cartoon graphic of a smiling flower in the middle. It's obscenely juvenile. Why does that make you feel nice? Ugh, more affini mind tricks.  Suddenly you hear quiet but clearly heavy footsteps from outside your room. You shake the last of the haze away as you scramble to find a place to hide. Maybe you aren't so ready to confront them after all. You duck around the other side of the bed and find an enormous pile of stuffies, coming about up to your eyes, and you decide this is the perfect place to hide. Just as you hear the handle turn and the door swing open, you bury yourself under the plush companions and do your best to hide your breathing and calm your pounding heart.  “Little oooooone~ Time to wake uuuuup~”  Why does that voice feel so… nice? Whatever, it's not something to worry about right now. You keep your breathing as quiet as you can as you hear him slowly make his way to the bed.  “Sweetpea? Where have you gone?”  “It looks like she's hiding from you, sir. Would you like me to tell you where she is?”  Shoot. You forgot about those darn hab AIs. You freeze in terror at the realization that any moment now, you'll be found out.  “Ohh, is this that adorable little game I heard about that terrans just love to play? Don't tell me where she is, Lucy, I want to play fair~”  “Of course, sir. Good luck.”  It takes all you have not to audibly sigh. At least their DNA-level obsession with toying with their prey would postpone your fate a little longer.  Your captor-turned-hunter lets out a bassy chuckle. “Now, where, oh where, has my sweet little girl run off to? Could she be… iiiin here?” You hear a door swing open and a light disappointed noise from the affini. Apparently you missed a closet when you checked around the room earlier. You mentally kick yourself for not seeing it, as that would have been a much better hiding place, but you suppose it's not so bad considering it was the first place he looked. You steel yourself and remain as quiet as possible.  “Hmm… Are you underrrr here?” No noise this time, but the position of his voice changed. He must have checked under the bed.  “Well, you're quite good at this game, little one~ I must say, I think this is a lovely way to start our first day together~”  Like heck you're “together.” Once you stop being a coward, you're going to confront him and set things straight. Then you'll be back home, safe and… away from him. Oh shoot, why does that sting a bit?  “Not many more places for me to check, my darling~ Daddy will have you soon enough~”  “Daddy?!” Oh fudge no, that is NOT happening!  … Although…  “Are yoouuuu behind here? Hmm, not here either.” You hear him gasp. Do affini actually gasp? Maybe he did that for your sake. “Ohhh, sweetheart~ There's only one more place you could be, now, isn't there?”   Ah. Fudge.  Your breath catches and your heart starts trying to box its way out of your chest. You turn stone still and clamp your eyes shut, not ready for the inevitability of him finding you.  “Little ooooone~” You can feel the hunger in his voice as his footsteps draw nearer. “This has been such a fun game, but I think it's time for you to come to Daddy now~”  You're so terrified you let out a tiny squeak. It's over. He's won.  His footsteps stop in front of your pile.  You hold your breath.  Time slows to a crawl.  
Just get it over with… Please… 
 Nothing.  Silence.  … You let out a squeal as you feel vines lifting you under your arms and backside and you're pulled face-to-face with the man who's been stalking you.  “Found yoouuuu~”  “Please, just let me go, I didn't do anything wrong!” You struggle and squirm, but his vines have a tight grip on you. You're not going anywhere until he decides it.  “Shh shh shh, petal, please, it's alright.” He draws you in a little closer and cups your cheek with vines drawn into a pleasing facsimile of a human hand. “I know this must be a confusing situation for you, and I'm sorry for that, but I really did warn you in my letter. Daddy only wants what's best for you, sweet thing. And what's absolutely best for you is being my precious little princess~”  You have conflicted feelings about the emphasis he puts on the word “little.”  “Come on, I was doing fine on my own!” Oof, that sounded more like a pout than you'd intended.  “Little one, please. Your hab unit was in utter disarray and you hadn't been outside in ages.”  “I was planning on it! I was outside when you nabbed me!” You try squirming again but are still met with unflinching resistance.  “Yes, but I saw what you'd tried to pass off as “cleaning.” It’s just not healthy to live like that, precious thing. But don't worry - you're mine now~ You'll never have to live in such a mess again~ I'll always be here for you to help and guide you~”  Your head spins as he seems to put extra emphasis on some of his words. You hadn't noticed before, but your breathing and your heartbeat have softened immensely. Something about his presence is equal parts disarming, disorienting, and calming.  “But, I-”  He brings a soft, viny finger up to your lips. “Shh, no “buts.” I'm afraid you're stuck with me~” He breaks into a mischievous but clearly warm and genuine smile.   Everything is so… confusing. You're an independent! You're supposed to be living your own life! You're finally free from the confines of capitalism, you're supposed to be living by yourself and doing all the things you couldn't do back when breathing cost extra! You're an adult, you're a terran, for fudge’s sake! You're… oh. You're crying. When did that happen?  “Ohh, sweetie pie, come here.” He draws you into his chest and begins slowly rocking you back and forth while rubbing your back and cooing softly. “Shh shh shh, it's okay, it's alright… Daddy's got you…” He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head and leaves his lips there as he breathes reassurance into you. “Just let it all out. It's okay. I've got you and I won't ever let you go.”  The deluge continues and it feels like you're emptying all the baggage you've been carrying into the vines of this complete stranger. Well, he's a stranger to you. You're sure he's been watching you closely every day since he first laid eyes on you. It was supposed to be so much better to be independent, but… it's so scary. Do you really want to go back?  Your tears show no sign of slowing down until suddenly you feel a soft prick at the back of your neck and the world seems to dim. It's not dimming in the way a picture might lose color, more like… how the biting cold lets up when you pull on a sweater. Or how the din of a crowd abates when you don headphones. Everything is clouded again in a thick fog, but you welcome it this time. It's all so much more manageable. Your tears recede and you can even feel a slight smile creeping across your lips. You look up at… at Daddy.  “There we go~ Feeling better?” His smile is like a supernova. You feel like you could walk outside in the Kevaran winter nude if you only had his smile for protection.  “Y-yes…” Words are hard, but you don't want him to think you're ignoring him. You know for sure hurting his feelings would absolutely tear you up inside.  “Mmm, “yes” what, sweet?”  You furrow your brow in confusion. What else does he- oh.  “Y-yes, Daddy…”  “Good girl~ Now…” He moves you away from his chest a bit and reaches up to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Why don't we get you some breakfast, my sweet girl? How do pancakes sound?”  Pancakes sound wonderful.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

You sigh dramatically. Your toys are scattered everywhere around you. It's bedtime soon and you know your Daddy will want you to clean up before he puts you to sleep, but there are just so many of them. Who could have done this? Certainly not you. They're only your toys, and you only love playing with them all the time just about every day. It couldn't be your fault they're scattered everywhere. You sigh again as Daddy enters the room and tsks gently. "Now how did your toys get all over the place like this, my sweet?" You turn to face him and shyly tug at the hem of your skirtalls. "I dunno..." you answer, looking at the ground sheepishly. "You don't?" he feigns incredulity. You blush and stare more intently at the ground, taking care to avoid looking at the mess "someone" has made in your playroom. "Hmm... Well, I think I know." He grins and boops you on the nose, letting out a deep, melodious chuckle when you scrunch up your face and giggle. "I guess I... maybe... played with a few of them..." You're turning back and forth nervously knowing you're going to have to take responsibility for your day of action figures and trainsets. "Mhmm, just "a few of them," huh?" You don't say anything and just continue to twist and fuss with the hem of your skirt. "Well, I think I know a certain floret who's going to have to clean up this mess before Daddy can put her to bed." His words spell disappointment, but his tone and biorhythm drown you in amusement and overwhelming love. You have the urge to thank him once more for his gracious gift of Ms. Implant; because of her, you never have to struggle again with miscommunication (at least not with Daddy). "Umm... d'you think maybe... you could help me clean them up, Daddy?" You give your best puppy eyes expression. You may be innocent, but you aren't past a little exploitation of your own cuteness. "Hmm, I don't know. You're the one who put them there, aren't you, precious?"You pout a little and redouble your efforts with this teasing plant. "Yeah, but there's a lotta them..." He places a viny thumb and forefinger on his chin, scratches his leafy beard, and raises a leafy eyebrow to show you how seriously he must consider this. "Hmm... Well, how about this? I agree to help you clean up your mess, and, in return, you give me something? Does that sound fair?" "But... I don't have anything." You're actually confused this time. "You've got some soft, adorable little cheeks, haven't you?" He's looking down at you and smiling warmly but a tad mischievously. You blush from the praise and smile. "Y-yeah..." "Then how about in exchange for me helping you clean up your toys, you let me give you a nice, big kiss on the cheek? How about that?" You turn an even brighter shade of red and break out in a wide, giddy smile. "Okay, Daddy, that sounds good!" "Wonderful." He reaches down and caresses your cheek, smiling at you with the warmth and radiance of a million stars. You feel his love flow through you out of your implant and you know you are truly blessed. As his hand finally leaves your cheek, he leans down next to you, grips your jaw softly between his enormous thumb and forefinger, and gently turns your head. "I expect my payment in advance, my good girl~"

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