Chapter Text
Shadow Milk Cookie was no stranger to exhaustion, but recently the feeling had crept up on him more times than he'd like to admit. He would doze off in the middle of working on projects, or grow annoyingly sluggish when he was trying to plot his next attack on that pesky Pure Vanilla Cookie... Plots that may never be used, considering the circumstances.
Even as the Fount Of Knowledge, he'd fought through many sleepless nights toiling away over letters and lectures.
It is incredibly frustrating now, laying in a field of cruelly ironic white lily flowers, that his body refuses to obey him. This forsaken vessel promised to him by the old hag that betrayed him just moments prior to this.
The few remains of his cracked souljam were held in his bleeding palms.
Stupid. Imbecile. Idiot.
Were his minions still alive? Or did she slaughter them after the confrontation? He may never know.
The sickly sweet smell of lilies mocks him and his tattered clothing as he struggles among the weeds, the taste of his own jam bubbling in the back of his throat.
Shadow Milk Cookie can feel the rage surging beneath his dough, but his legs buckle with each attempt to lift his body, and his arms threaten to crumble apart at every slight movement.
Get up, weak link.
The beast pants, staring up at a star spangled sky, silently praying to the glistening moon above. She was partially obscured by clouds tonight, his prayers falling on deaf ears. Even the sweet release of death would be more merciful than the agony he's endured.
He doesn't know how much time passes. Everything seems to sit still, as he becomes painfully aware of every little pinprick of agony in his body. Maybe a cake monster will come along and put him out of his misery. The great Beast Of Deceit, nothing but a weeping pile of dough and jam.
Disgusting. Useless.
Oh great, he's crying now.
Each shuttering breath brings a new wave of pain that rattles his ribcage. He can't even sit up and look around at the location he teleported to. He doesn't care, not anymore.
Weak. It's no wonder Dark Enchantress turned on him. He was of no use to her anymore.
How many times would he do this song and dance until he completely ceased to exist?
Shadow Milk Cookie closes his glassy eyes, biting his already jammy lips as he forces down another sob— Only to find a much more pathetic scream leave his dry throat.
This dying animal, angry at the entirety of Earthbread. It has only ever known cruelty, and now it will know the coldness of death, the second closest thing it would get to the warmth of an embrace.
Darkness seeps around the edges of his vision, suffocating and suppressing his thoughts.
This is it. The curtain call.
Or, so he thinks.
He can hear someone call his name, but he assumes it's just an auditory hallucination induced by the jam loss and intense pain. He becomes mildly aware of footsteps approaching, but he can't muster the energy to respond or open his eyes.
Warmth tucks itself against his cold skin, chasing away the intense pain and dulling it into a more tame ache. He wishes he got a better look at his mysterious savior before being pulled into unconsciousness, lulled asleep by the feeling of arms embracing him, and the slightly more bitter feeling of light magic washing over his open wounds.
-
When Pure Vanilla Cookie saw a strange blue figure thrashing around a field of lilies from his tower’s window, he didn't know what to expect.
An injured cake hound? A miraculously blue sheep? Anything but The Beast Of Deceit.
Deep down, part of him knows what he'd expected, running down the palace stairs to investigate. The pang in his souljam ushered him into urgency, almost tripping over his own robes as he ran out into the field of Lilies beneath the twilight sky.
"SHADOW MILK COOKIE!"
He couldn't hear his own heart pounding in his chest, like a caged bird wanting freedom. He threw himself into the grass beside the beast and gasped in horror as he felt crimson jam beneath his knees, grasping his orchid staff
f with shock.
"Can you hear me? What happened to you?" He gave the other a quick once-over before setting his staff down beside him, and pulling the beast into his lap gingerly, brows knitted with concentration.
"Please don't go." Pure Vanilla Cookie mumbled, brushing a hand over the other's forehead while his other hand cradled their crooked back.
He didn't have to wonder for long on who could've decimated the lying beast, the answer hitting him like the acrid stench of a decaying corpse.
He shook away those bitter thoughts. Now probably isn't the time to think about her.
"It's going to be okay." He brushed a white strand of hair out of Shadow Milk Cookie's face, working his magic around the surface wounds. He just needs to heal him enough to safely bring him inside.
"I'm sorry, Shadow Milk Cookie. I'm... So, So sorry." He could tell the other was unconscious, but he couldn't stop the words from pouring out like the steady drip of a faucet. He hopes it provides some solace, despite the pain he's felt.
Where are your companions? Did they meet a horrible fate, or did they escape as well?
He'd have to figure that out later.
Pure Vanilla Cookie steadily scooped Shadow Milk in his arms, frowning at how light the beast was. When was the last time he had a meal?
All too many concerns were filling the king's brain. He took a deep breath. One step at a time. As he stood, he noticed Shadow Milk Cookie grasping onto something, holding it tightly in his palms even through the depths of unconsciousness.
"Let's get you inside." Pure Vanilla Cookie sighs, making his way back up to the palace. Slowly, as to not stir the slumbering beast curled in his arms.
It was truly a sight to behold-- How comfortably the other snuggled beneath his chin.. But, Pure Vanilla's souljam thrummed with sorrow. He entered the castle, lucky it was so late in the night that hardly anyone was roaming the halls...
Except for Black Raisin Cookie's crows.
The curious little creatures acknowledged the king's entrance, and his undoubtedly questionable guest.
Look what the cat dragged in.
Pure Vanilla Cookie picked up the pace, knowing Black Raisin herself would be coming once her crows relayed their newfound information to her.
He debated taking Shadow Milk Cookie to his own bedroom, but decided the infirmary would be more convenient. His injuries were far too severe to risk not having medical supplies within grabbing range, and he realized leaving a beast unattended in his own bedroom was probably a bad idea.
Black Raisin Cookie arrived almost on queue, opening the infirmary door with a skeptical scowl on her face only a few minutes after Pure Vanilla Cookie settled the unconscious beast Into a bed.
The king was sitting on the edge of the bed, continuing to work on healing their cracked dough.
"..."
Black Raisin Cookie did not need to give voice to her concerns before Pure Vanilla Cookie spoke.
"He was in the field of lilies. I don't know what happened to him."
Even with his back facing her, Black Raisin could hear the worry in his tone. She could imagine the frown on his unseen face.
"How do you know it's not a trick?" She scoffs, entering the room and closing the door behind herself. It was better if this was kept private.
"He wouldn't---" Pure Vanilla paused, considered. " He wouldn't stoop this low. His... Souljam..." His voice trailed off as his gaze trailed over to the shattered pieces of Shadow Milk Cookie's souljam that he found tightly grasped in the beast's palms, which were now resting on a bedside table.
Black Raisin Cookie's eyes widened as the gravity of the statement settled on her shoulders.
For a long while, neither of them spoke, letting the hum of magic fill in the silence.
"What are you going to do with him?" Black Raisin finally asks, sitting in an armchair in the corner of the dimly lit room.
"..I.. I will let him stay. I will nurse him back to health, and.." Pure Vanilla Cookie's frown grew. "Ask him what Dark Enchantress Cookie did to him, and why."
"I'm assuming this... Band of minions isn't around?" Black Raisin vaguely recalls Pure Vanilla Cookie mentioning the two from his time in the spire, but she notices they are nowhere to be seen. "Do you think they...?"
"I don't know." Pure Vanilla Cookie sighs, steadily raising one of Shadow Milk Cookie's arms and examining the damage. "They weren't there with Shadow Milk Cookie, so I'm assuming they got separated at some point."
"Hm.." Black Raisin Cookie made a face.... Her 'thinking face' as Pure Vanilla liked to call it. "I guess I'll let you work, then." She stands, placing her hand on her hip. "And I'll bring you something from the kitchens. I know you skipped dinner." She spoke pointedly, like a parent catching a child red-handed.
Pure Vanilla Cookie only nodded, too engrossed in his own thoughts to swell on the scowl she shot him from across the room.
Black Raisin Cookie sighs, and begins her walk to the kitchens to retrieve a tray of food.
Dawn brings birdsong, warm sunlight that filters into the infirmary through large windows, and a splitting headache that makes Shadow Milk cookie feel as if his head is being split down the middle. Which, to be fair, it may as well have been. He hissed, raising a sore arm to palm at his temples drowsily. He hardly had time to realize he wasn’t outside, and it took him even longer to realize that he should’ve been outside.. Right? Was it all a bad dream?
He squints as he strains his eyes, scanning the room. The scent of vanilla and waffle cone decorations hurls a horrifying realization at Shadow Milk Cookie. He’s in the Vanilla Kingdom. And much to his dismay, he can still spot his shattered souljam sitting on the bedside table. It wasn’t a dream.
He needs to get out of here and…
And what?
What would he do if he left? Go fight Dark Enchantress Cookie? She already won. She’d finish what she started, if she found out he survived.
Against his better judgement, and his ego, this was probably the best place to be… Even though that annoying gnat with the oversized hat would definitely be breathing down his back soon.
Speaking of gnat, where was Pure Vanilla cookie?
Shadow Milk Cookie grumbles to himself, struggling to sit upright in the bed. It’s chilly… A stark contrast to the warmth he felt last night. He wants it back.
The beast awkwardly shuffles out of bed, grabbing the bedside table as his legs threaten to give out beneath him. He realizes (much to his dismay), his clothes have also been changed, replaced with a tidy white gown that smelled like fresh laundry.
Too bright. Hideous. Not enough flare. Where’s the blue?
The beast grumbled, idly itching the scars that trailed his forearm. They weren’t wrapped on account of them not being recent or open, but at this rate he may as well– Wait, had Pure Vanilla Cookie seen him naked?
His cheeks flushed at that thought, and he annoyingly also felt a bit embarrassed at what the other might’ve said about him. Whatever. Why should he care about that faker’s opinion?
He grabbed the scratchy cloth blanket from the bed and draped it over himself like a cloak to protect his fragile body from the cold before meandering over to the infirmary door and shuffling into the halls. His legs continued to threaten him, and within a few minutes of walking so did his own spine betray him with shooting pains. He occasionally growled at his own hair, which felt heavier and droopier than usual. No doubt a side effect of the shattered Souljam sitting on the countertop.
Pull yourself together. You’re the beast of deceit.
Shadow Milk Cookie doesn’t have much time to finish his prep talk, as his legs begin trembling before he can even make it halfway down the hallway. He stumbles, clawing at the wall for stability. He definitely looks like a fawn learning to walk right now, which is unfortunate considering he can hear the tapping of Pure Vanilla’s staff approach from the opposite side of the hall.
During his time in the spire, he learned to recognize the sound. He knew Truthless Recluse was nearby, and the sound once filled him with a giddy joy he couldn’t understand.
But right now, he wanted to turn around and tear those hideous gilded robes to shreds.
The tapping sound increased in speed as Pure Vanilla Cookie hurried over to the stumbling beast, reaching out a hand to sturdy him. Always, Always, reaching out a hand to this monster.
Shadow Milk Cookie grimaced, leaning away from the hand and attempting to continue with his clumsy strides. “Go away.”
He didn’t want to be perceived like this, especially not by that frowning fool.
“You’re injured. You should be resting.” Pure Vanilla Cookie did not listen, stepping in front of the jester to block his path. “Where are you going? If you need something, I’ll be happy to get it for you, Shadow Milk Cookie.”
“You–” He hardly finished his sentence before a sudden, skull-splitting pain erupted from his back. He doubled over, the eyes in his hear turning from offended crescents to pleading blobs of impossible tearful patheticness. Not even a newborn kitten could achieve this, he believes, as he claws at his own stomach. He feels feverish. His head is spinning. His back hurts. It all hurts. Everything, all at once. He doesn’t notice Pure Vanilla crouches beside him.
The pain begins to subside into a dull ache, and he realizes he’d been panting. He could hardly breathe. He was exhausted… But, he was also warm. He can feel the light magic working beneath his skin, ebbing away the agony.
Shadow Milk Cookie has nothing left to lose, not even his dignity.. Which is why, for now, he allows himself to curl into the king’s warm embrace. He allows himself to believe the lie, even for a few moments, that Pure Vanilla Cookie cares about him. Because if he doesn’t, he may fall apart right here on the floors of the Vanilla Castle, and he’d rather die anywhere else.
Is that it? Or is it something else?
“There, There.” He hears Pure Vanilla Cookie coax as he buries his face into impossibly bright robes, closing his eyes. He holds the scratchy infirmary blanket tighter. It feels… Nice. He can almost forget the events that lead him here… Almost.
“Shadow Milk Cookie, are you still awake?” Pure Vanilla finally asks after a few moments of silence, absently running a hand along Shadow Milk Cookie’s hair as if he were a resting cat.
The beast only makes a sound of acknowledgement. Words are too hard right now.
“Mm.. I apologize for not being there when you awoke.” He, stupidly, sighs with remorse. What an idiot. Why is he sorry?
“I know it’s not a very comfortable room..I just didn’t want to move you while you were resting… And, I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”
“I wasn’t out for that long.” Shadow Milk Cookie grumbled, unable to stop the snarky remarks. They just came naturally. “You worry too much. And, the floor is hard.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie huffed with amusement, scooping the shorter cookie into his arms as if he were merely a bag of feathers. “You were asleep for five days.. But, your hair is excellent company.”
Shadow Milk Cookie blinked a few times, taking a moment to register the gesture. His unusually foggy brain left him with no quips or comebacks, instead he clicked his tongue and crossed his arms sassily. “Well.. Maybe you’re just a terrible healer.”
Pure Vanilla’s brow furrowed with an expression Shadow Milk Cookie could not identify. “Sorry..” He mumbles.
“Stop apologizing. Seriously, Nilly! You’re getting all soggy over nothing.” Shadow Milk Cookie’s Cheshire grin returns as he occupies himself by poking at the ancient’s face. In the short stretch of silence, he took a moment to admire how Pure Vanilla Cookie managed to balance his staff in the crook of his elbow as he carried the other. Maybe he had to carry injured cookies often.
The king simply smiles. It’s a sad smile, one the former Fount knew entirely too well.
It’s not long before Shadow Milk Cookie is being placed back on his bed in the infirmary, and Pure Vanilla is taking a seat in a wooden stool adjacent to it with a sigh.
“Are you hungry? I could get you something to eat.” The healer offers. It’s strange. He doesn’t question where Shadow Milk Cookie came from. He doesn’t berate him for being weak or stupid. He doesn’t interrogate him, though he knows he will have to ask questions eventually. The chaos seems to come to a standstill in Pure Vanilla Cookie’s presence.
“I don’t need food.” Shadow Milk finally retorts, laying back down on the scratchy mattress. “I want a softer bed.”
“The food would help you recover faster.. When’s the last time you’ve eaten?” Pure Vanilla Cookie hums thoughtfully. “And.. I suppose we could stop by your new room, if you’d let me feed you.”
Shadow Milk Cookie considered.. Maybe the new room would be warmer. But did he really want to bother with the hassle of consuming sustenance? Especially from the likes of that glowing imbecile?
Pure Vanilla Cookie waits patiently for an answer, his neutral smile returning.
“Fine.” Shadow Milk Cookie Groans. “But you’re carrying me.”
“Oh, I don’t mind at all!” Pure Vanilla’s smile seems to grow as he eagerly stands, propping his staff against a countertop before holding out his arms for Shadow Milk. Freak.
Shadow Milk bit back yet another remark as he pitifully crawled into Pure Vanilla’s warm arms, and nestled in. It was warmer and more welcoming than he’d ever admit out loud, but his traitorous hair seemed to get the point across as it gave the taller cookie woobified looks of adoration.
The Vanilla Beholder caught a brief glance at the sight, but the king chose not to comment on it as he meandered back out into the halls, making his way to the guest room he had prepared for Shadow milk Cookie.
“I’ll let you get cozy, then I can just bring the food upstairs I suppose…” Pure Vanilla announces, navigating the halls with ease.
Shadow Milk Cookie examines him silently. He notices the way the other’s shoulders tense with strain, and the small bags forming under their eyes. Their golden hair is unkempt, almost shockingly so. This idiot was being run ragged by his duties, and he probably just let people walk all over him. He was too forgiving for his own good.
“Whatever.” He finally responds after a few moments, nearly forgetting what the other stated in the midst of his analyzing.
It wasn’t long before the two reached the room. It was brighter than he would’ve liked, but at least it was a bit warmer than the infirmary. He thought he’d have to start terrorizing servants to get a decent pillow in this place.
Pure Vanilla Cookie placed the beast onto the bed with a sigh, and quickly turned to retrieve the promised snacks from the kitchen.
In the meantime, Shadow Milk Cookie sprawled out among the white silk sheets, taking a moment to really get comfortable as he twisted his sore body like a lazy feline basking in the sun. Speaking of the sun, he’d have to make sure to complain about how much sunlight those absurdly massive windows allowed into the room. It was practically blinding him.
At some point in this cozy endeavor, he must’ve dozed off. He’s awoken by gentle taps on his shoulder, and greeted by the smell of food that actually seems pretty appetizing. He’s almost impressed, as he sits up and rubs at his eyelashes, blinking the drowsiness away.
“I brought you jelly soup…” The familiar vanilla ancient smiled. His smile is so radiant, Shadow Milk cookie almost smiles back. He bites the inside of his cheek, prohibiting such follies.
“If it’s not to your liking, I could always just get you something else.” He picks up the silver tray from its place on the nightstand and moves it onto Shadow Milk Cookie’s lap.
Before he eats, he examines the soup carefully. Poking it at it with silverware, sniffing its contents.. Pure Vanilla is unlikely to poison him, but just in case…
Finally, he begins eating. He’d forgotten how nice it felt to taste food. It wasn’t something he got to experience often, especially not as the Fount. The Fount. He’d been on his mind a lot lately. He’d have to do something about that.
“Boooooring.” Shadow Milk Cookie states abruptly, despite shoveling soup into his mouth as if it might be his last meal. “Where’s the arsenic? I was expecting more of a bang.”
Pure Vanilla chuckles, moving to sit at the end of the bed.
“HEY! No! No outside clothes on MY bed!” Shadow Milk Cookie hissed so fervently, it made the ancient jump to his feet.
“Ah– My apologies–” He hums, looking around the room. He decides to sit on a small, circular ottoman instead. “Now.. I know it isnt the best time to ask, but..”
Oh, here it comes.
“ What.. Happened to you?” Pure Vanilla Cookie fidgeted with his hands, brows knitted together with concentration. “You don’t need to answer, but it would be nice to know.”
“...” Shadow Milk Contemplates… rolling a few explanations over in his head. “Well y’know.. Showbiz isn’t for the weak!” He winks, putting on that extravagant performer persona, as much as he could without straining his body. “A minor disagreement.. I mean, it happens. Not everyone appreciates a star when they see one.”
Pure Vanilla simply nods along, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I see… Well, where are your little companions, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Shadow Milk stilled. He had completely forgotten about them– How could he have forgotten about them?
His stomach twists into something guilty, like storm clouds gathering before a storm. He abruptly moves the tray aside on the mattress and attempts to stand. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do– He can’t even walk. “I need–” He stumbles, claws catching on the nightstand as he hits the ground.
“Shadow Milk Cookie!” Pure Vanilla squeaks, moving over to the source of the sound of a body hitting the floor. He feels around the hunched form to secure him. “Take it easy, please.. What’s going on? Please, be honest with me.”
“I don’t know where they are– I need to find them!” He grabs onto Pure Vanilla’s robes. He remembers now. That’s why he left the infirmary. “She–” The beast trails off, fatigue coming to claim him once more. He’s so, so scared.
“You can hardly walk.. You have no magic– What are you going to do for them? I can’t let you go.” Pure Vanilla can hear the panic in the other’s voice, lifting them back onto the mattress. “I know you’re worried for them, but if you got away, maybe they did too?” He places his hands on Shadow milk Cookie’s shoulders, ushering him back down to the sheets. “I won’t let you get yourself killed.. Maybe after we repair your souljam, I can help you look for them.”
Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t understand what he did to deserve such kindness. It made the taste of bile sting the back of his throat as if it were venom waiting to be unleashed. He didn’t even realize he was still clinging to the other’s warm white robes, and he forced himself to let go.
“I’m sorry there’s not much I can do immediately.. I can ask Black Raisin to keep an eye out for them, though.” Pure Vanilla Cookie reassures softly, as if raising his voice might shatter Shadow Milk into a million pieces.
All Shadow Milk Cookie can do is nod. He’s practically shaking with grief and rage, but Pure Vanilla seems to dull the effects of that, gentle hands running along his back and shoulders. They sit in this comfortable silence for a while, before Pure Vanilla withdraws, and takes his warmth with him.
“I’ll be back in the morning, alright?” It was getting late, and he still had things to attend to before going to bed. He was a very busy cookie, unlike the blue bum occupying the mattress in front of him.
Pure Vanilla cookie felt around the sheets for a brief second before finally finding the tray, and leaving the room.
Shadow Milk Cookie was grateful his door was closed. Nobody can hear him turn over and sob.
Crying felt good, after not allowing himself to indulge in it for witches knows how long. He has to clutch at his side from the continuously present aches and pains that come with each heaving breath. When he wasn't clawing at his new white robes, he was sinking his claws into now soggy pillows or wiping at his tear-stained face.
It had all come crashing down, hadn’t it? And to think this all started with the pursuit of a better life? Was such a thing even possible now?
The image of Pure Vanilla appeared in his head, like a nightlight in a dark room.
He wants to believe it's possible, even if this is all a lie. He wants to believe it’s all going to be okay, even if he knows it won't be. He wants to believe he’d even be worthy of such compassion, such warmth.. Even if he’s a monster.
The sobbing devolves into quiet sniffles and the occasional cough, and eventually his exhausted mind gives in to sleep, eyelids sticky with crust and dried tears.
Even in his dreams, he is pursued by haunting wine-dark thoughts that seek to swallow him whole. The beast knows no rest, only his own cruelty, and the quiet promise of a blooming sunflower in an otherwise wilted field of flowers.
Pure Vanilla Cookie doesn’t know what time it is when he’s awoken by unruly sounds in the room beside him. All he knows, based on the fact that the birds had not yet come chirping on his balcony, is that the sun hasn’t risen yet.
He grabs his staff on his bedside, and uses his free hand to rub at his aching souljam. It’d been aching for a while– Ever since Shadow Milk Cookie appeared a few nights ago, in fact.
The king was at least a little grateful for the distraction, obvious concerns aside as he shuffles across the room and to the door. His dreams were not very kind to him, plaguing him with thoughts of the blue jester that slept just a wall away. He’d forgiven the beast for what transpired at the spire, but that didn’t mean he’d ever forget about it. Nevertheless, the other’s presence left an odd warmth fluttering around in his chest. He chose to ignore it, taking the short trip through the grand halls and raising a hand to gently knock on the door.
There’s another thud, but no definite response.
“Shadow Milk cookie?” Pure Vanilla Cookie stifled a yawn, placing a hand on the doorknob. He usually wasn’t one to intrude on other’s privacy, but he also didn’t want to risk ignoring a health emergency.
He waited a few more heartbeats before gently pushing open the door, brow furrowing as an eerie creak filled out the silence.
He’s at least a little grateful his sleep was disturbed.
The first thing he noticed was the empty bed, the sheets sprawled along the floors, and the noticeable crimson jam that had been smeared across the mattress.
The second thing he notices is the absence of a certain blue jester.
Pure Vanilla Cookie stepped into the room, shutting the door behind himself as he approached the grizzly scene. His heart is hammering in his chest, a million possible thoughts racing through his head. Where was Shadow Milk cookie?
That question didn’t take very long to answer, as he quickly noticed the flailing beast on the ground, tearing at a pillow in what seemed to be a dream-induced rage. Shadow Milk Cookie was still asleep, completely unaware of the destruction he caused to the room and to himself.
He’s growling, fangs beared at a foe Pure Vanilla Cookie could not see. His claws shred the poor innocent pillow with purpose– As if it had done him several lifetimes worth of wrongdoings. He’d reopened some of his wounds in this frenzy, but he didn’t seem to care. He fought with such vigor, Pure Vanilla Cookie had to think for a moment what the best way to approach the sleeping cookie might be.
Eventually, he propped his staff properly against the wall and crouched down next to Shadow Milk Cookie before cautiously wrapping his ams around them, securing them in a warm embrace.
“Shadow Milk Cookie, it’s just a dream.” He reassured, one arm around the beast’s waist and the other attempting to grab his arms. “You need to calm down, you’re reopening your wounds.”
These words hardly reached the dark, impenetrable place that was the confines of Shadow Milk Cookie’s dreams.
In his eyes, he was being dragged into a silver tree by gnarled roots. No matter how much kicking or scratching he did, the roots simply tightened their hold and brought him closer to the empty chasm. He can’t go back. He won’t go back. Somewhere, in the distance, he can hear cackling.
She preyed on his demise. Dark Enchantress— No– White Lily Cookie?
It was all getting blurred together in his head, the broken bodies of Candy Apple Cookie and Black Sapphire Cookie flashed in front of him as cruel reminders of all that had been taken from him.
He’d plunged into the darkness of the tree. It suffocates him. It’s cold. It’s empty. He cant feel his legs. He can’t breathe. He needs to get out. Out. OUT!!!
Shadow Milk Cookie opens his eyes, gasping for air as if he’d been drowning. He can feel soft, silk robes against his skin and gentle hands holding his arms firmly. He can taste jam, and a more aware glance around makes him realize it was all over the sheets he’d discarded. His body shrieks with pain as if he’d been running a marathon, drenched in sweat and panting as if every breath might be his last.
“You’re awake…”
The voice startled him, and he spun around to see the radiant ancient sitting directly behind him, cradling him. How pathetic.
Pure Vanilla only sighed with relief, hair unkempt. His white nightly robes were now stained with jam, and shadow Milk Cookie becomes embarrassingly aware that he’d probably been held like this for a while.
“So touchy! You can hardly keep your hands off of me.” Shadow Milk deflects with a grumble, running a hand over his unruly hair. “Anyways, did you neeeeed something, nilly? I’m kind of busy.”
Pure Vanilla Cookie doesn’t respond to the comments, instead focusing on re-sealing the open wounds. “Mmm.. You were having a nightmare.” He hums thoughtfully. Not judging or scolding, just gently concerned for the other’s wellbeing.
Shadow Milk Cookie’s heart skipped a beat. He could pass out right here and save himself the loss of dignity, but that wouldn’t be any fun. “Whaatever.” He drawls, averting his eyes.
“I could move you to my bed, for tonight.. I want to keep an eye on you and your bed is currently…” His staff looks over to the ruined mattress. “A bit worse for wear.”
“In your bed? Take me out to dinner, first!” Shadow Milk exclaimed dramatically, wincing as he attempted to strike a pose and was immediately reminded he’s two and a half steps away from crumbling. “Fine.. FIIINE!” He groaned, dragging his hands across his face. Could this get any worse?
“Just keep your hands off me, pal!”
Pure Vanilla Cookie only chuckles, lifting the jester as he stands. “My apologies if i gave you that impression..” The grin on his face says anything other than ‘sorry’.
Moron.