Work Text:
Sitting there in the spire, curled in on himself he laid on his side, his claws endlessly scratching at the marks on his arms. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he sniffled, so stupid. So useless. How could that… imbecile ever propose the idea of being friends? He was even stupider than Shadow Milk if he thought he deserved that offer.
His fangs dug into his bottom lip, quivering as he tucked his face farther into the pillow. He had no one. Not even his two loyal followers were there constantly for him, he was alone. Worthless.
He thought back to how her lips curved upwards into a wicked smile, her voice rough yet buttery all at once, still holding reminisance of who she used to be.
“You feel alone, don’t you?” She teased, her red eyes slimming to glare at him as he lowered his own gaze. “Well, if you’d join me, I’ll make sure you always have an audience watching you.”
The offer made him jump, a small bit of adrenaline through his veins as he thought about what that meant. An audience just for him. Always. And of course he’d agreed.
What that witch hadn’t said was how that audience had the choice to fight back, or… offer friendship.
His claws dug deeper into his pale blue dough, sapphire jam beading at a few of his nails as he let tears flow harder from his eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! He’d make that pathetic cookie pay for breaking him like this.
He imagined tearing that warm smile from his face, painting it in gold jam as he contorted him into a puppet for his own play, how nice it would feel to make a performance with his doll-like form for his friends.
Why did he SAY THAT? Did he really think they could be friends?! Ever?! Was he an IDIOT?
Shadow Milk actually started to laugh, a cold, deep chuckle that made his claws run deeper into his dough, which halted his thoughts for a moment. He pulled his hands back, his eyes glaring in annoyance at the deep blue shimmering jam coating them.
He’d have to clean them now.
And that mortal would pay.
He slowly uncurled himself from his cocoon, swinging his legs over his bed as he stood, wobbling to the small bathroom attached to his room. He clutched the sink on either side, his pupils narrowing at the scars facing him in the mirror. Even though it was disgusting, he started to smile.
He was happy. Giddy even. The marks satisfied him, they were deep and harsh enough for what he’d deserved. He spent the moment admiring them, turning his arm back and forth. Then, he reached for the small gift basket Black Sapphire Cookie had made him once, when he’d seen Shadow Milk’s faded scars.
It was a small basket of self-care items, bandaids, gauze, neosporin, etc. He grabbed the neosporin, mindlessly placing it on some of the worse spots, then covering those with bandaids. Finally, he grabbed the gauze and wrapped his arm a few times. The gauze was a light blue, clashing… fine, against his skin tone. He tensed his arm a few times to make sure it fit well, then dropped it to his side and stared at himself in the mirror.
Witches, he was pathetic. No matter how many times he willed himself into saying he would stop, deep down he knew he needed help.
He knew he’d be doing this again at most a month from now.