Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

It’s happening again.

Not Candy Apple’s outbursts. Those, Pure Vanilla had learned to deal with. A sweet treat, maybe a proper meal, or a walk outside the spire (which he had managed to convince Shadow Milk allow him, with the promise to be back before an hour was up.) and she could figure out how to express her sorrows with words. Simple, childish words at first but he was teaching her new skills everyday. Eventually she even started appearing to him before Black Sapphire when she was in a bad mood.

He would pat her on the head, let her cry it out and then take her for one of the aforementioned cheer-up routines.

Shadow Milk hated it. And it was hilarious. Absolutely, no filters or barriers or fingers to hide his giggles, hilarious. 

They would be mid-torture, and he’d glimpse Candy Apple cookie watching on the side before rebooting his motivation with a breath and overcoming whatever strange game Shadow Milk had placed him in. 

Or, that was just one time. Mostly he would be stuck in strings or shuffling cards or answering uncomfortably personal questions when he heard a yelp from down the hall. But Shadow Milk, being the awful and sadistic beast he was, would hang the guilt of not being able to help over him — even if it meant listening to her yelling and breaking things as he hurried to finish the game as soon as possible.

Sigh.

One day, he was going to catch Shadow Milk in a state of distress and show him why all his efforts to help Candy Apple cookie were so necessary, and not just for those around her.

And when that day arrived, Shadow Milk would just have to hope he didn’t look good crying, because his sadomasochistic tendencies were starting to rub off on his other half. But, that’s for another story.

Today: The issue, neither Candy Apple nor Shadow Milk.

No, today it was Black Sapphire cookie.

He had known by his own guesswork and a whole lot of evidence left about the margins of Black Sapphire’s personal life in the spire — his room, the almost hungover moods he would be in after returning from long missions, the romance novel with a queer protagonist that he left hidden in the pillow room (and also, he only found one book, the second novel in a trilogy, which is could only mean someone was lending him the books) — Yes, it all lead up to the same conclusion; Black Sapphire Cookie had a secret lover. It wasn’t hard to deduce who, either: all it took was snooping through his room one time to find his hair brush and blame its displacement on Candy Apple cookie and instead he found… a bell. A silver bell.

Could this boy get any less discreet?!

But that wasn’t the point. So, he was dating Silverbell. Not the Recluse’s problem, if they got caught he’d just watch the flames engulf the silver kingdom with no expression. Shadow Milk might like it if he smiled, so he’d make an attempt at looking placid and fail miserably to hide the despair in his eyes. Woe is he, and also those two loverboys who he was avoiding getting to the point about.

Black Sapphire hid a lot of Polaroids of them in his treasure chest, under a normal amount of Shadow Milk paraphernalia, batteries, notebooks filled with scrawls, a master key and some other things not of importance. Cute photos, Silverbell seemed rather happy, other times flustered. 

Certainly no comparison to the perfumed letter Black Sapphire had received, read in the living room, causing him to go deep shades of red and quickly get up to leave: he found it, under the bedsheets, the same perfume note — lily of the valley.

He… thank the stars Silverbell wrote in sheet music or else his eyes might’ve skimmed the wrong things.

Ah, cheese, Maybe Shadow Milk was right about his perversely intrusive attitude. Did Shadow Milk even go this far to snoop into his minion’s lives?

Well…

Well.
If he ever wants to go snooping, It was perhaps a little late for it now. 

Recluse had been smelling something hideous for days now. Days referring to sun and moon cycles, not chronological measurements. You would think those are the same, alas…

He eventually figured out the source of the smell: Black Sapphire’s bedroom. 

So, he and Shadow Milk cookie had been ignoring it in favour of their little mind-torture monopoly games, but Black Sapphire hadn’t been acting right the entire time. More on edge, quiet, less patient with anything and everything. 

To put it in witches’ terms, Cookies don’t have menstrual cycles but if they did, this would’ve been the tell-tale sign of a luteal phase.

Moody, unfocused, messy, rapid-fire between consumption and abstinence when it came to food, not to mention the diet—

Uncharacteristically sweet or salty, the spire was running out of dark chocolate, salted caramel and salted-caramel flavoured dark chocolate.

The worst offender was the loud angsty ballads he screamed at… All hours, regardless of what was happening. If he wasn’t out and about, giving everyone attitude, he was locked up in his room crying to Mint-ski. Oftentimes the Recluse found himself humming the opening to “I bet on losing cakehounds” with Black Sapphire’s sobs in the background.

Shadow Milk knew. He knew Pure Vanilla knew.

Both of them knew the other person knew. 

Whatever.

“He’s going through a breakup.” Pure Vanilla said, tossing the dice and moving his piece. “Shit.”

“Hand up!” Shadow Milk beckoned for the Monopoly money, “Ahem, yes. I can tell. He’s been awfully prickly as of late, never seen him lash out so hard.”

“That’s probably your fault, just so you know.” He watched Shadow Milk cheat the dice and slammed his hand over them to stop them from moving. “He’s burning the Polaroids. Can’t you smell it?”

“Humph! What am I supposed to do?!” Shadow Milk complained, “Listen, I respected his privacy, and now he’s making his trauma everyone else’s problem. If you let him cry it out, it’ll pass, no?”

“Unfortunately not.” Pure Vanilla took his turn, landing on go and taking $200. “If there’s anything we can learn from your other minion, it’s that space is only going to help so much before he starts looking for other solutions. Being met with silence will only make him harden up, and not in a pleasant way.”

Shadow Milk scoffed, “She’s a kid. Of course she needs someone older to guide her, but Black Sapphire is fully grown. He’s always had a handle on his emotions, he’ll recover from this just like he recovers from everything!” He landed on the jail square and cursed. 

Pure Vanilla took the dice back, rolled them, landed on his own square and upgraded it to a hotel. “Fun. Let’s see… did he ever try reaching out to you for help?”

Shadow Milk squinted. “Oh, I know that tone.”

“Pleasant.” He smiled, “then you know where I’m going. Saves a lot of time.” He rolled again, moved his pawn and landed in jail as a visitor, “Hello Milky~!” 

“Shut up.” 

“You don’t let him express his own feelings, essentially placing him in the role of the level headed and logical one you can agree with most of the time. This is probably not going to reflect well on him now that he’s been screaming and crying himself to death for the last few days.”

“Mhmm… what does this have to do with me?”

“Just saying, if you won’t take care of your own subjects, I guess I’ll have to step up — hopefully you won’t be too upset when he doesn’t rely on you anymore: not that he could in the first place. Mhmmm, I would wipe your tears if I could.”

Shadow Milk growled and threw up his hands, flipping the game board. “Fine!! Help him, see if I care.”

The Recluse stood up, took up his staff and pinched the beast’s cheek affectionately, “You are so funny when I have an upper hand over you. Suddenly I understand why you find power so intoxicating.”

He stepped down the silent stairwell, the one which moved when it heard your footsteps or voice too loud. Far too many doors on the twisting walls, he was sure there spawned new ones every other week. One that stayed however was Black Sapphire’s purple door with black metal accents, a sign which read “On Air: DND” and a few flashy other things. And, smoke coming down the bottom of the door.

Loud bass pumped from inside, loud enough to make the stairs be in constant swinging motion. It took far more time that would be necessary to make it down, knock real loud and turn the knob: locked. 

Hah. Haha. What a shame! 

If only he had a master key… hm!

Click!

“Oh sapphire~!” He called, a bit too enthusiastic for his own liking. “Can you please turn that down, Master Shadow Milk is starting to tip over the— is that Falafel Roan?”

“She’s got, She’s got a waaaay!” Black Sapphire was too absorbed in the anguished belting of the outro to notice anybody had even unlocked the door to his room.

He was sitting in a pile of broken photo frames and flaming pictures. There was messy eyeliner and mascara running down his cheeks, some streaking away from his eyes to suggest he’d tried wiping it away. Actually, it was like he’d poured ink all over his face with the way it was streaked around his eyes. Not a picturesque look in the slightest.

“Eh… sir.”

“She got away! She got away, she got away, YEAAAHAAAAHHHHH—“

Pure Vanilla hummed. Yeah. Maybe Shadow Milk was right for a change. 

Admittedly his imitation of lesbian yearning was… worthy of merit. Major support towards the theory of PMS symptoms he was experiencing. Was the breakup overlapping with Actual PMS??? What a way to find out.

But he couldn’t celebrate this diversity win forever, as Black Sapphire’s playlist eventually switched songs, to Vampire by Olivia Burrito Cookie, the single from her sophomore album Crumbs: Spilled.

He failed to hide his snicker. “Why are you listening to this song?”

Black Sapphire looked up at him pathetically, “You have no right to judge my music taste! You literally stan Sugarfly Cookie!” (That’s Sabrina Carpenter btw) 

The Recluse crossed his arms, “True, however I own the full cd of this album. Out of all the songs you picked, you picked the one that was literally written about YOU as a person.”

“So??? Can’t I wallow in my own misery of how I’m such an awful, evil boyfriend?!!??”

Pure Vanilla’s brows unfurrowed, “…Are you blaming yourself for the breakup?”

Black Sapphire wiped his eyes again and threw a Monster High doll at the cd player. “No, you know what, it’s fine. We can skip it.”

Pure Vanilla reached over to turn the music off entirely. The flames cracked for a moment before he spoke again. “It’s normal to feel guilty when you hurt someone you love. I can help you, so please tell me what happened.”

Black Sapphire winced and flapped a hand in the direction of the cd player. “Turn it back on, I can’t be alone with my emotions.”

“I’m… I’m here to help you.” 

“Yeah, sure. Just turn it back on.” He hiccuped. 

Recluse obliged him and a guitar song started up. He didn’t recognise it at first, but a few lyrics in and he knew the voice. Bruno Mars-Bar cookie. 

“Okay. Firstly Sapphire, your crashout is valid.” a little bit of modern slang went a long way. Black Sapphire glared up at him. Pure Vanilla continued, “I’m serious. Shadow Milk might think you can handle this, but you can’t, and I’ve been seeing it for weeks now.”

“Seeing what?” Black Sapphire wiped at his tears again, “I’ve only been heartbroken for a day or two.”

“This is a lot more than heartbreak.” He gestured to the room around him, in ruins. “You keep your emotions in. I learned from Candy Apple that you care a lot about your belongings, and yet here you are, there’s photo frames and figurines and Polaroids everywhere. Something bigger lies beneath all this other stuff.”

Black Sapphire sniffled. “Uh, yeah. My whole life lies beneath it all. You don’t know what it’s like, having to pretend to be okay the whole time, because otherwise you’ll get all the slack for being emotional and embarrassing!”

“That’s not true.”

“And then, having to upkeep that facade when you feel like you’re falling apart inside!”

“I do.”

“And then, when you Finally find an outlet, someone who is safe to be yourself around, you lose them to some stupid feud between your dad and his biggest enemy’s successor!”

Oh, is that why Silverbell had cut things off?

“That doesn’t sound like your fault.”

Black Sapphire groaned, “But it is! If I wasn’t… if I wasn’t on the opposite side to him, he wouldn’t have been so scared to open up to me, and we could’ve talked about it.”

“He was probably confused.”

“Of course he was confused!” Black Sapphire shrieked, shoving his fingers through his hair, “God, can you fucking imagine?! Having to hide this whole committed relationship from your parents and eventually finding out that your boyfriend is so much worse than he made himself out to be when he first met you, and the last time you meet him to try and break things off he nearly fatally wounds you in the process?! I’d be shocked out of my mind too if I knew my boyfriend was a proprietor of an entire empire of rumours that have brought down civilizations!”

Pure Vanilla wasn’t sure whose side to take here. It seemed like the whole thing was a bit less black and white than meets the eye. 

“Sigh. Okay. Let’s start with the most present issue: how do you feel right now?”

“Sad?!! What do-“

“And how does that manifest inside of you? Is there tightness in any part of your body, maybe your head is pounding, or ears ringing, or your heart is pumping faster than you can breathe?”

“Stop.” He said, “This is making it worse.”

Pure Vanilla skipped the song and something calmer started playing. Piano instrumental. “Okay, try to take back control of your breathing. If you can breathe, you can talk, and if you can talk, all those thoughts of self loathing will have somewhere to go. Just…” he inhaled, held, exhaled.

“Haaah…hooo…” sapphire followed the instructions and slowly began to lower his hands. “Haaah…. Why are you helping me?”

Pure Vanilla stepped closer. “Shhh… keep breathing. Can I hold you?”

Black Sapphire squinted. “…Sure. Whatever that means.”

He approached and carefully wrapped Black Sapphire cookie into an embrace, pulling him close and resting his chin atop the fluffy and despondent mass of hair on Black Sapphire's head. “You’ll make it through this. Just keep breathing.” 

“Nn….nnnnmmnnn!” He broke again, his sobs coming quieter, but he instead just let them out rather than trying to tear something apart or screaming. 

Pure Vanilla could only hum again, the first song on his mind — that mint-ski song was a pretty good match. He even started singing the lyrics. 

Black Sapphire stayed quiet after that, a calm warmth descending over the two of them. 

“It’s going to take a long time to heal.” Pure Vanilla said when he finished the first verse and chorus, “You’ve got a lot of pain inside of you. But if you would let me visit every now and then, I can help you recover from this heartbreak. Promise I won’t tell a soul about it.”

“Except for master Shadow Milk?”

“No.” He said, “Not unless he reaches down my throat and pulls the words out himself.” He smiled to himself, “he wouldn’t get far down enough before I started trying to freak him out.”

Black Sapphire sneezed, “To freak him out?”

“Let’s not worry about me. It’s you that needs caring.” He pulled away to check and yeah, he was still a mess. “Feel any better?”

“No.”

“Mhm. I thought so. The sea feels endless when you’re nowhere near the shore.”

*

Shadow Milk was still in the game room, waiting for Pure Vanilla to return. 

And for some reason, he was still thinking over what Pure Vanilla had insinuated before leaving him to go handle Black Sapphire.

“Did he ever try reaching out to you for help?”

“You know where I’m going with this.”

“Since you won’t help your servants.”

“I would wipe your tears if I could.”

What did he mean by that last thing? 

He bounced the question around in his mind until Pure Vanilla returned looking solemn but much more at ease than he had been before. No, not at ease… just honest. No longer pretending everything was fine.

“So is he fixed?”

The Recluse shrugged, “Not even close. But he’s on track to it now. If you would allow me permission to visit him every now and then, perhaps… every second moon?”

“pfftt! That’s way too often.”

“You control the moon. You can make it so I never see him again. Would fit right up your alley, wouldn’t it? Sadistic, cruel and wholly pointless. You like your subjects when they’re at their worst. I, for instance, haven’t eaten in ten days and I’m starving.”

Shadow Milk shrugged. “Just pretend not to be hungry like you always do! Or is this a ploy to get me to feed you?” 

“Pathetic.”

“Hm?”

Recluse sat down before the game board. “That’s what you’re calling me in your mind, isn’t it?” He moved the piece back to their places. “It’s alright, you can say it to my face. Better me than you, anyway.”

What kind of games was he playing right now?! 

Shadow Milk’s eye twitched. “Just. Shut up. And don’t say anything unless I command you to speak.”

The Recluse smiled again, showing his blunt teeth. Contrasted by the canines, growing sharper with every rare smile. 

They returned to the game in an unnerving silence. Not even the card soldiers were hobbling. Every tap of the pawns on the board and the dice hitting the table echoed up to the high ceilings.

For once, Shadow Milk’s felt oddly as if he were being left alone with himself, despite Pure Vanilla being right there. He was hardly even breathing. 

Unsettling. So, so very unsettling. 

“Sheesh, okay. You can speak again.”

Pure Vanilla stuck his tongue out. “Are you upset?” He whispered. “Do you feel anything?”

“?? No.”

“Good.” He drew out the word in a breathy tone, “I’m here for you, if you ever want to address it.”

“Pure Vanilla. Stop being weird.”

Both their eyes turned up, silently, to meet. “I can do you one worse,” he rattled the dice and let them hit the table too hard, “I learned something about you today that I’m not sure you’ll ever be able to make me forget.”

“No.” He hissed. “You didn’t. Everything you know is a lie. Are you an idiot? Pure Vanilla cookie, you are an idiot.”

Pure Vanilla, eyes wide in some kind of trance, let the light hit them. “I am an idiot.”

“Pfft! Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Suddenly Pure Vanilla placed a hand over his, catching him off guard. He was too busy shivering from the sudden contact to pull his hand away whilst Pure Vanilla spoke. “I love you.”

?!!

“What?”

“You heard me. I’ll say it again; I love you.”

Shadow Milk’s hand tried to flinch away but Pure Vanilla caught it. “What’s wrong?” His tone was flat like a robot, “Do you not like hearing those words?”

“You’re playing me. This is a dumb trick. You’re dumb.”

“Hm. Why so? Do you believe me, or not?”

The way Pure Vanilla was holding his stare, the air started getting tight. His eyes all begged to look away, some were watering from being forced to stay open. 

“No.”

“Am I telling the truth?”

“No.” He said again, on instinct, or perhaps because he wanted this awful tight grip on his wrist, his eyes, his body, gone. 

“Am I lying, then? Don’t I love you?”

“No.” He said, “That’s stupid. You’re a terrible liar.”

“Aha. No, I’m a phenomenal liar, according to you. What do you base such qualities on, anyway? To be found or to be believed? Oftentimes the greatest liar is the one who Everyone believes is virtuous and truthful. Hardly ever does a liar pride themselves so publicly on being such.” 

Shadow Milk hissed, finding the strength to pull. It did nothing. Pure Vanilla smiled, wide and happy like there wasn’t a thing he’d rather be doing and bringing his hand closer to his mouth. “But you’re not easily fooled. Yes. I was lying. I don’t love you.”

Obviously.

Pure Vanilla’s eyes lidded. “And that’s because…” the light faded from them as he raised his Shadow Milk’s fingers just inches from his lips, “Nobody does. Not a single soul in the whoooole wiiiide world.”

His shoulders shook like he was laughing.

“…You little scoundrel.” He said, “You… stupid, pathetic, lying little scoundrel.”

“Mhm?”

“You think that’s going to hurt me.” Finally he pulled his hand away, “You’re nothing more than mirror, a reflection. If nobody loves me, they don’t love you either.”

“Correct.” the Recluse said simply, “Not even I do. I despise myself so deeply I sometimes wonder if it’ll kiss the beginning of its own misery and make me delusional: prideful, self indulgent, self-centred and worst of all self destructive. I’ll go down in a glorious and beautiful spectacle, and when I look into the river awaiting to collect my soul and pass it on, I’ll see your glassy blue eyes pleading at me, their owner, to turn around and find a different ending. Who could’ve known a mirror to be so unforgiving.” 

His hand followed the momentum of his emotions and cracked Pure Vanilla across the face. “Shut up!” He seethed. “Shut up, get out, do not come back until I summon you from your rooms.”

Pure Vanilla was momentarily too stunned to move. Then his hand raised to his reddened cheek, and something akin to acceptance crossed his features. “There is a very long road ahead of you, should you choose to keep walking.”

Chapter Text

Tonight, someone new was crying.

The worst part? It was quiet. Quiet, and the recluse wouldn’t have heard it if its source wasn’t wrapped around him with its head buried in his shoulder.

But before he did the misdeed of revealing just How someone else managed to be in the same bed as him, especially in his state of discontent with his life, he would have to wind it back. This was, after all, a series of events.

About two weeks ago, Black Sapphire had broken up with Silverbell, and ever since then, pure vanilla had visited him every few moons, making sure he hadn’t ripped his bedsheets apart or harmed Shadow Milk’s toys in the process. Shadow milk had tried giving him things to throw, but inevitably he would be furious if any of those toys actually suffered harm — so the recluse prevented the damage from the get go by checking in more often than he promised.

Through honest conversation, messy art hobbies and a few jam out sessions to his breakup playlist, sapphie was doing better.

But a new problem had arisen.

See, Shadow Milk’s cookie minions were not the only ones with minds of their own. Apparently everything that worked in the spire had a consciousness, and quite a lot of them were unhappy with their treatment by their master — but couldn’t say so until pure vanilla had arrived to constantly stand up to him.

For instance, the rumour weavers were working harder than ever these days, and a lot of them approached him on their slivers of off time to ask for advice. A lot of them seemed like they had real lives outside of their work, even though there’s not a chance in the oven may of them could simply leave the spire, not when they were cards or knights made of plastic or bunny rabbits on their hind legs.

He decided to start asking for favours and small rewards in exchange for his service and soon enough he was practically running a business on it.

Shadow Milk cookie should’ve been furious. But he reasoned that it was all a part of leaning the currents of deceit so he never tried to stop pure vanilla.

At least, until he somehow started a rebellion within his employees.  Which brought him to the second part of this story, the main body paragraph of his apology letter.

See, it had been a normal day of answering the prayers of those card soldiers when a rumour weaver approached explaining that something terrible was happening, and he must’ve fallen ill.

“The master rumour weaver will not be happy with me if I keep skipping out on my job!”

Pure Vanilla felt a duty to help this poor rumour weaver, even if he didn’t know how yet. “Tell me your symptoms.”

“Ehh, stomach cramping, exhaustion, lack of focus, We’ve all been so much more irritable lately, the smallest thing makes us all angry.”

“Including the master Rumour weaver?”

“Yes! He’s so patient usually, and yet he’s been so short tempered as of late!”

Pure Vanilla thought about it, and in the end he suggested it was an oncoming bug, but someone else was there to greet him when he opened his mouth to say it.

“Oh my darling Silly Vanilly! It’s dinner time!”

“Dinner? Now?”

“Aha, yup. The main course: your friends!” He was forcibly dragged through a portal and sat at the head of a table with his friends tied together wearing headbands with candles on them. “I was too lazy bake a cake for the occasion of your one month anniversary, so instead I’m using your darling friends. Hope you don’t mind!”

Pure Vanilla glared at him. It got the message through enough, but it only served to make shadow milk happier seeing him so upset. “What’s the game this time?”

“The game? Pfft! Oh, you want a game now? Great, because I already prepared one. Go on, make a wish.” Shadow milk gestured to the candles on the hero cookies’ heads.

He scowled and blew the candles out, summoning up the first wish that came to mind: to go back to that rumour weaver and tell him exactly what was wrong.

“Oops. Looks like you didn’t blow hard enough. Try again, maybe they’ll blow out this time.”

He tried again. Still, the candle flames merely flickered but never stopped. Gingerbrave pointed out that the candles weren’t going out, and the Jester’s smile widened.

“Oh no, the candles!” Strawberry cookie said.

“Obviously he’s making it so the candles never go out.” Wizard said, “he’s going to keep us here until pure vanilla goes faint from trying to blow them out!”

“Oh no, what if they melt before he can do it?” Strawberry asked, “We have to find a way to turn the candles off ourselves.” She struggled against the bindings and they got tighter. “No!!”

“Quick, pure vanilla cookie needs to turn the candles off some other way! Is there water on the table.”

shadow milk watched it all with an amused huff. “You’ll make yourselves soggy if you try that.”

Pure vanilla sighed. “So you’re just going to make me watch them get burned alive.”

“Well, that would be funny wouldn’t it? Alas, I do make solutions to all my puzzles, you’ll just have to find them.” He put his hands behind his back and tilted his upper half forward. “Hint hint, right in front of you!!”

Pure vanilla stared into the candle flames. Indeed, he could just reach out and grab the answer by his bare hands. Was that what he was expected to do?

Only one way to find out.

He spotted the napkins on the table a little too late, pinching the flames out one by one and seeing them stay out for once.

“Pure vanilla cookie, your fingers!”

He shook his hand to flick the suds off. “They’re fine.” He turned his eyes up to the master of the tower. “The candles are out. Do I get my wish now?”

Shadow milk floated down to his level with his signature grin. That grin never seemed to slip from his face. If only there were a way to make it do so. “Hmm. Shame, I was hoping our play time would last longer. But fine! Have it your way: I’ll be back later.”

He was teleported back to the rumour weaving studio.

Pure Vanilla navigated himself down to the first kitchen he could find. This kitchen most definitely ran on deceit, so if he wanted to fix the problems of the rumour weavers, he’d simply have to take extreme measures; some good old poison should do.

He grabbed as many inedible things as he could; milk crowns, various wires, lighter fluid and strange colour changing berries the sizes of tomatoes.

He went through the process of making a pasta sauce using all the ingredients he found and boiled the wires in water. He was nearly scared to take them out, lest he be electrocuted.

Still, using a strainer he managed to drain the water and pour the wires back into the pan, then add the most definitely radioactive sauce. He brought it over to the rumour weaving studio along with witches knows how many forks.

“I found just the solution. Wait wait-! Finishing touch.” He took a bottle out of his pocket with a skull on it and poured it over the concoction. “Bon appetite.”

The head rumour weaver looked over and its eyes blinked out of sync. “Are you trying to poison us.”

“It’s pasta, sir.”

“it’s—“he was silenced by the recluses waggling his finger.

“Check again. Is it really what it looks like?” Everyone gathered around to check and Lo and behold, completely normal looking pasta, arguably tempting but he resisted taste testing himself. “Dig in. I figured out that the problem playing all of you is hunger. Once that’s gone, you’ll all be fixed. Perhaps you should request your Master feed you more often, if this problem persists.”

He walked out of the studio, satisfied with himself.

Another days work done.

Ah, but that doesn’t explain shadow milk’s grievances nor how someone came to be in his bed. Well, there was a series of events, not just this one. Perhaps he’d continue explaining this story another time. For now, he needed to lie down.

Chapter Text

So, Shadow Milk’s attempt at getting Pure Vanilla to eat something had failed. 

Granted, that was His Friends and all, but surely he would’ve at least indulged himself on the little bowl of cherries left to his side. Didn’t he see it? Maybe he just didn’t like cherries.

No, no. He was thinking about this wrong. He needed to tempt him with something he actually liked, clearly not cherries. What did Pure Vanilla like again?

He paced his own bedroom (which nobody knew he had, not even Pure Vanilla!) and groaned, clawing at his fringe in a desperate attempt to rip the ideas out of his skull.

“Ugh! What would I do, if I had a weird relationship to food and I desperately needed to eat something? Granola bars? Fucking… wood?!  Like a termite?! Who even came up that idea!” He ripped his soul jam off his collar, “You! You’re smart, do something!”

He turned around and imitated himself with a different accent, “I don’t know either, perhaps you should get outside feedback!”

He returned to his side of the rug he was floating over and pinched his nose, “I’m not asking him myself, that’s lame. He wouldn’t tell me anyway.”

“Ooo, Grandiose Thinker, of course not! Maybe you should ask the mannequins in the closet.”

He pointed to his wardrobe and a mannequin wearing a berry purple dress was pulled forward. “Well?”

“Maybe an apple dish will make him feel better! You know how those apples in the court yard always leave people wanting…”

“That’s— not a bad idea. I wish I remembered where on earthbread I obtained a dress in that ugly shade. Off you go!” He flicked his wrist and it soared back into the dark depths of the closet. He released a sigh and crashed next to his vanity table.

“Maybe I should install a mirror here or something…” he stared at the starry patterns on the wall behind the desk. “Why do I even own a vanity without a mirror? This feels like… forget it. I’ll get one eventually.”

It was settled then. Apple crumble it would be.

*

He had no idea how Pure Vanilla managed to find the real kitchen in this place when making Candy Apple that foam coffee. Maybe she lead him there without thinking. Flawless explanation, and it made Shadow Milk a little angry at her recklessness. But at least her problems were improving, thanks to Pure Vanilla’s little efforts. She smiled the same but it was less forced, like she wasn’t trying as hard to appear the bright and perfect child she thought Shadow Milk wanted.

Pfft. Why did she act like that anyway? Clearly it was either a one sided crush or a desire for a parental figure she never had. But again, he was never good with children, and he certainly didn’t want to be taking care of one if he could help it. So, the fact someone else was finally stepping in was a huge burden off his shoulders.

But that wasn’t important now.

He got the green apples instead of blue, since those needed to be used sooner rather than later, about four of them. He tossed them in a pot with a splash of water to soften them beforehand. Yes, this is apparently necessary! After about half an hour, he strained them and finally peeled and sliced them evenly, placed them in a bowl, sprinkled them with a quarter cup granulated sugar, a table spoon lemon juice and half a teaspoon each of cinnamon and nutmeg, then mixed a bit and put the mixture in a (greased!) baking dish.

Shoot, the oven! He snapped his fingers and it instantly heated to 180C (that’s 350F so yall don’t have to do the conversion.)

And now for the crumble part:

That being, half a cup of flour, oats and brown sugar, a quarter cup of softened (unsalted) butter and a good pinch of salt.

This part was easy, just measurements of ingredients, mix together until crumbly and sprinkle on top!

Wow. Did he really just attach a recipe someone found randomly online into this story? Again? (Jk you guys like me hehe.)

Just when he thought there was suspicious lack of emotional therapy going on, he placed the pan in the oven and as he was setting the timer for half an hour, a servant hopped into the kitchen to lay a letter on the desk. He gave Shadow Milk an odd look as he turned around to exit. Heh, what did they have to say about this? It was perfectly normal to be baking apple crumbles at crazy hours of the night.

He cleaned his hands before picking up the letter, examined its messy but legible scrawl, definitely cookie jam for ink, and the page inside was yellowed like it had been dyed with turmeric.

Burning spice cookie, summoning him of all cookies? Someone was feeling different. The location, the— The Garden of Delights?! Was he about to propose destroying it or something? Actually, that would make sense. He was waiting on an opportunity since he got out, Shadow Milk knew from observing him.

Alright, sure. But first, he’d have to feed this apple crumble to Pure Vanilla cookie.

The time passed in a blur of ticks and giving his workers instructions on where to paint next, what kind of rumors were in fashion, and peaking in on black sapphire who was in the living room… playing board games with candy apple cookie. Rare sight! Pure Vanilla must’ve been doing wonders for them.

Speaking of which, where even was Pure Vanilla cookie?

***

Pure Vanilla cookie was cutting the excess growth off one of the rose bushes of the purple court yard. It had a name, he just couldn’t remember, but the flowers here were purple and sang odd melodies at him when he listened too long to the breeze.

Somehow the servant usually did this work had fallen ill, and now he was tasked with it in his place after being the first person in the vicinity of the garden manager. Yes, Shadow Milk had a garden manager, one for each courtyard or garden in fact. They were differentiated by their colors, corresponding to the flowers.

Admittedly he’d only properly met the blue and orange ones, occasionally seeing the white or red in passing, and meeting purple today was a complete accident.

He had already decided he wasn’t a fan of the purple garden for its cacophony of horrid insults and lies, unlike the white or blue where the flowers were only background chatter, or they sang in beautiful melodies that intended to lure one deeper into the garden and fall into a thorn trap.

“You’re guilty. So guilty!” Said one flower. He clipped it off to silence it.

“All your friends know that you failed!” Clip.

“She will never love you back!” Snap!

“Master Shadow Milk cookie is looking for you!” Nice try, clip.

“No really—“  Clip.

“Look behind you!— ah. Why did you stop?”

Because, it seems the flowers weren’t kidding, he could feel his soul jam tingle when the master of the spire was near, and currently he was floating over the whole spire searching for something. When his eyes landed on Pure Vanilla, he felt his stomach drop. Clip!

“Nilly! How come you’re doing the hard work of tending to my gardens?”

Pure Vanilla put the shears down and stepped away from the bushes that oooh’d and aaah’d as Shadow Milk descended to sit on a stone bench. “Your servant fell ill. I was the first in sight.”

“Pfft! Oh you, classic overworked soul aren’t you? You’ll never survive in this place if you do everything you’re told!”

“I was threatened with these very same shears if that convinces you. Tell your employees to give me more respect if you’re so concerned.”

“Respect,” he said, twirling a finger, “is earned. I can’t just order them not to walk all over you.”

Pure vanilla glared. “Yes you can.”

“Mmmm. Are you hungry?” He said, raising back into the air all a sudden. “Really, let’s go inside.”

He pulled Pure Vanilla with him and the flowers were far beneath them before he knew it. When they landed on one of the walkways, Shadow Milk dropped his smile. “I hate that courtyard. Reminds me too much of an old colleague.”

Now he was being lead to a room that, while it appeared pristine, had certainly not been swept or mopped in the past week. The floors were too matte, cabinets forming the thinnest layer of dust perceivable to his eyesight — which as many might know, wasn’t very good to begin with. Embracing deceit had made it clearer, somehow.

“Don’t worry about spilling crumbs on this floor. I just wanted to find somewhere that wasn’t pristine so you don’t ruin my minions hard work. Anyways I have a surprise for you! Sit down!”

Of course, to anybody else this room appeared perfectly fine, it fit the aesthetic of the spire and it was cleaner than the rooms in most cookies’ houses. He placed himself on the cerulean cushioned sofa and Shadow Milk moved the coffee table over using his magic. Then, reaching through a portal he carefully pulled out a porcelain dish smelling like apple and placed it down on the table. “There ya go!” He snapped twice and two forks appeared in his hand. He handed one to Pure Vanilla and sat down on the opposite sofa. “Dig in, whenever you’re ready.”

“What’s in it?”

Shadow Milk pouted, “Can I not reward you for your good work? You don’t eat enough. Can’t have you working yourself to crumbs only to have those crumbs be tiny and flat! How will I make use of you if there’s nothing left when you die of exhaustion?!”

“So you’re feeding me apple pie?”

“Crumble.” He corrected with a swirl of his fork, “important distinction.”

“It really isn’t— mph!” Shadow Milk shoved a chunk into Pure Vanillas mouth. His stomach flipped at the odd causality of it. At least the taste of it was swoon worthy, not that he’d make that obvious.

“Ah, there we go. Do I need to spoon feed you? I’ll do it if I have to!” He seemed to go back on those words through his posture, “I’ll— I’ll just complain the whole time.”

Pure Vanilla swallowed. “So will I, thank you very much.”

“Mhm, you’re welcome!!”

“No, that’s not— ugh, nevermind.” He bent forward to take a second chunk. He was quite sure these were going to end up being the same apples from the blue courtyard, the ones that had special side affects. Alas, just one bite had his body reminding him that he was in fact starving, and now he simply Had to indulge himself on this poisonous delight.

“Hey, quick question, do you call everything you think you don’t deserve poisonous? I notice that rhetoric in your thoughts a lot.”

“Why do you care?!”

Shadow Milk paused. “I don’t.” He shoved another piece in Pure Vanillas mouth to stop him from retorting. What a unique game he was playing, feeding his prisoner sweet delights like he hadn’t literally tried to kill his friends yesterday. And being so grossly intimate about it, too. Still, after the First instance involving apples (which he couldn’t talk about because this fic has a teen rating wink wink), Pure Vanilla was in a mind to pay him back for his weird behavior; and what better way to do it than to play along?

Pure Vanilla pat the space next to him. “Don’t you think it would be easier to do this if you were sitting next to me?”

Shadow Milk scoffed. “So now you want me in your space? Awww, and here you were, telling me you wanted me gone.”

“It’s only for this one instance. Don’t get it twisted.” Or do, play right into my hands.

“Oh no Nilly! Never ever.” He happily took his place next to Pure Vanilla and took a bite of the apple crumble himself. “Mmh! I really outdo myself each time.”

“Mhm. I can only imagine.”

Shadow Milk took another piece for himself and then stopped mid-chew and swallowed heavily. “Is that a compliment?”

He smirked. Sarcasm, but sure. He expected Shadow Milk to rattle on about his brilliance, which would take their minds off the prospect of torture for another ten, maybe thirty minutes, but this confused stare he was receiving was far better.

“Does nobody tell you they like your baking?” Pure Vanilla said. Shadow Milk crossed his arms and turned his face away. Pure Vanilla leaned in, taking up too much of his personal space. “No! You don’t feed your minions, is that it?”

“I feed them as much as they’re supposed to be fed!”

“And how often would that be?”

Shadow Milk shoved him away. “Every four days to keep their energy high. They can survive up to ten times that duration, but after a few days their systems start decomposing for energy, and I can’t have them leaving their crumbs on my shiny floors.”

Certainly explained their attitudes. It was nearly funny how befittingly cruel it was. “Shadow Milk, Cookies need to be fed daily to maximize their energy.”

“You think I don’t know that? This is the spire, Nilly. Food doesn’t even count here. They can hold out.” Upon seeing Pure Vanilla hold his amusement, he squinted, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh no, it’s just that you play your character of a cruel master too well, I’m almost convinced you’re doing this for the bit.” He took his hand away from his smile, “Blame me if I’m growing a bit fond of it.”

Shadow Milk’s expression flashed into indignation before he shrank back into the sofa with his eyes all turned away. “You’re being foolish again.” Pure Vanilla could swear he saw color in his cheeks before he turned his face away. Normally, Shadow Milk would’ve changed the topic or dragged him into another game so he could pretend away the vulnerable moments they had, so why was he choosing to sit with it?

Instead, the air had grown tense, like both of them were waiting for the other to sit up, to speak, anything. Pure Vanilla went over the choices he could make. Some stuck out as a bit unorthodox, but considering the atmosphere was already so charged…

He reached with his fork, cut out a chunk of apple crumble, very carefully reached out to Shadow Milk cookie to cradle his face and push the fork in his mouth.

And the real kicker — he accepted the offering without thinking, at least until Pure Vanilla was pulling the fork out of his mouth and he flinched away. God, the look on his face spelled murder, and it was hilarious. “You… Are setting yourself up for a horrible punishment, Pure Vanilla cookie.”

“Paint me as terrified,” he said, hardly holding the laugh back from his voice, “The master of Deceit finally snaps and breaks one of his toys! A tragedy of the ages, never yet before seen.”

“Humph! You know Dolls aren’t meant to play back, don’t you?” Pure Vanilla could smell the venom in his tone, but his heart was thudding too fast for his common sense to follow along with — he pushed even further.

“Mm, I’m your Doll? Quaint. I don’t think you’re meant to feed those things, shadow milk.”

“You!—“ he scoffed and turned away. “You know what? Drop it. Just finish eating.” He scampered off the couch and, surprisingly didn’t fly through a portal immediately. No, he settled with his legs crossed onto the opposite seat. “And if you say another word before you’re finished, I’ll curse you so you can’t hold down food or water for a whole week, and I’ll set the temperature in your room so it’s always too cold, even when you’re feverish.”

He was about to suggest a simple instant crumbling, but shadow milk pinned with him a stare that was so intensely malicious he already felt his stomach turning like it was going to push all that apple riiiight back up. Alright, fine. Settle them both in uncomfortable silence, he’d already won anyway.

Chapter Text

So, an incredibly eventful two weeks had passed since that moment with the apple crumble.

Well, not really eventful, but certainly memorable. Firstly, he’d failed to stay quiet and had indeed been cursed, and as if the worst timing had hit, the complaints and jobs and games racked up so much that he passed out on the way to the game board one random cold night.

For the next week and a few days, he was bedridden and Shadow Milk had taken care of him (as if he hadn’t cursed him in the first place) until he was able to take care of himself again.

He was sure this was all part of Shadow Milk’s ploy to seduce him to humiliate him.

It wasn’t often, but it was most certainly effective; sometimes he’d do things to get a reaction, and Pure Vanilla would snap insults or glare at him until he gave up.

And most recently before this point, an apple in the blue courtyard went too far, leaving him completely at the mercy of his captor. Shadow Milk didn’t like talking about it, and all he got from rumour weavers was vague statements about him being chained by the neck like a dog.

He didn’t understand it until now, what Shadow Milk was so secretive about; really, if he wanted to use this as another way to break Pure Vanilla, it would do him better to tell Pure Vanilla exactly what happened and watch him recoil in disgust and horror.

But no, instead he was still here, in Pure Vanilla’s bed, and he was crying.

He could hardly say it happened yesterday, the moon and sun hadn’t even switched places in the duration of the event. But hours had passed, that much was certain.

He was tired already, crashing into his bed and hardly bearing Shadow Milk’s teases. Last night he’d chosen to shoot back a bit and the argument escalated until Shadow Milk took his soul jam out of his hands and squeezed it just a bit too hard.

And that lead to a terrifying, dizzyingly intimate discovery.

He’d thankfully allowed Pure Vanilla to rest for the night but when he returned the next morning, things returned from zero to one hundred fast.

That’s where he discovered… a lot, at once.

Up till that point, he’d gotten glimpses from that day with the apples, recalled one key thing: a feeling of powerlessness.

And thanks to the corruption of his already so diminished soul jam, he could feel it from the other side of the tether: that fragile pride his other half harbored at getting to command him like a puppet.

He remembered having a moment of clarity, finding himself sitting on Shadow Milk Cookie’s lap, distantly understanding that he was meant to be completely powerless, and the wasn’t. But in such an inbetween state, he couldn’t help but test his limits. He pushed the boundary, stole back power and found the results startling.

The same happened a few hours ago… he saw an opportunity and he took it. He reached out to touch Shadow Milk’s burning soul jam and his arms buckled in an instant. From there it was far too easy to flip their positions, having taken complete control of the situation.

He’d never seen Shadow Milk looking so meek. His eyes were watering, and his jaw clenched as if his teeth could stop the sounds from escaping. Adorable and heart wrenching for how upset he looked at being overthrown.

Still, he eventually allowed Shadow Milk to continue whatever he was doing, with the added bonus that he was still leaning over the beast, trying not to let his balance falter under the weight of keeping himself propped up. Nonetheless Shadow Milk put a stop to their experiment, supposedly unable to handle the vulnerability it took, being in that position.

And now, he was… sobbing.

Ironic, wasn’t it? Maybe he thought Pure Vanilla was still asleep. Oh well.

He turned over to face the beast. “Was it something I did?”

His brows turned up, the sorry expression on his face becoming cartoonishly miserable. “Don’t even ask me that.”

“So, yes.” He reached out to swipe a tear falling out of the corner of his eye, “I just followed my instincts, Shadow Milk Cookie. I’m sorry that I’m not as weak and innocent as you thought.”

“But I don’t get it.” He said through clenched teeth, “What possessed you to do that?”

“You’re focusing too much on me. I did what I wanted to. Instead tell me this: why did you do what you did?”

Shadow Milk didn’t speak. His eyes lowered to stare at the golden key design on Pure Vanilla’s robes. After a while he shrugged, “I guess I was curious what effect it would have.”

“And were you happy with the results?” He asked more quietly, a corner of his mouth turning up, “I know I was.” His eyes stayed on Shadow Milk’s face, watching his brow furrow like he was vengeful, “Oh what? Are you upset about that? I won’t deny it, milky.”

“Stop it.” His fingers dug into the sheets, the crackle of pulled fabric sounding quietly under his nails, “You were meant to be ashamed about it. So why aren’t you?”

Just that sentence alone opened up a whole new world of unspoken things on both sides. Pure Vanilla adjusted his head to rest under his arm, “Guess it just wasn’t the first time I’ve ever done that sort of thing. You probably noticed that I told you what to do to make it tick, right? That kind of knowledge isn’t intuitive, Shadow Milk, it’s gained through experience.”

Shadow Milk turned away, but he didn’t get out of bed yet. “Stop. Just shut up.”

He still didn’t understand why the beast was so upset. “You can’t possibly be innocent like that either if you knew what to do with it.”

“I’m… sigh, I can’t find the words for it, okay? Just leave me alone until I figure it out.” He buried his face deeper into the pillow. Pure Vanilla did what his heart told him and wrapped his arms around Shadow Milk’s waist.

“Alright. Is this okay?”

“Whatever.”

“I’ll wait for you. We can talk this out, dear.” He hadn’t meant to let the nickname slip, and doing so incited a pitiful whine out of Shadow Milk’s throat, and he continued sobbing more overtly, Pure Vanilla could feel the sobs shaking through him.

What a poor creature, left alone for so long that he could hardly handle the slightest amount of honesty about himself. Just how long had he been like this?

He found himself asleep once again and when he woke up, he was hugging a plushie in his likeness. A welcoming present normally left on the chair in front of his desk. Shadow Milk had escaped his clutches again. He had the distinct impression that the master of deceit would probably never acknowledge this again, even if he asked. So be it, he’d simply act as if it had never happened.

Or, he’d try his best.

After all, he had plenty of minions within the spire that needed his attention. First on the list was that poor heartbroken boy, Black Sapphire Cookie, who hopefully hadn’t ripped his room to shreds in the time that Pure Vanilla hadn’t talked to him at all.

But when he went to check, Black Sapphire’s bed was empty, so was the… thing, he hung from like a bat while he was sleeping (at this point Pure Vanilla was sure the bed was installed both as a cover and a convenient cushion for other reasons. Funny how the sheets had last been changed only a few days after his breakup with Silverbell, and had stayed unused enough to not need changing for another month or so.) but moving on, his room was empty and also suspiciously clean for once, signaling he’d either turned a new leaf or was planning on returning to the very same old one. Only time would tell.

His next ambition, make some breakfast to celebrate his regained ability to eat.

He found Candy Apple Cookie and offered to make her the most delicious strawberry or mango milk if she showed him where the kitchens were again and she excitedly jumped out of her bed to run right down to the pantry.

“Ta~daaa! It has all you could ever need.”

“Thank you, you really are such a blessing.” He rubbed the top of her hair and reached for the rack of seasoning. “Alright, what do you think the other workers eat?”

“Uhh. I dunno, I never asked, what are we having?”

“Well, you and I can have pancakes!” He winked, “what do you say to lemon drizzle? As for the rest of them, I’m considering some kind of stirfry rice dish, and to use up the frozen veggies. Not the best because it lacks protein but…”

“Oh, we have protein!” She rummaged through a few cupboard and fridges (it should be important to note that the kitchens had several) and pulled out a few packs of tofu, “okay, nevermind but I found tofu! That counts, doesn’t it?”

“I’d say so. Covers the scenario in which any of those things are vegan.”

“We’re all made of dough and jam and icing, how could any of us be vegan?” She rolled her eyes, “Hmmm, are you gonna make the milk with strawberries or mangoes?”

“I’m leaning towards… mango. I mean, it’s the same process isn’t it?”

*

The witches who watch over these events must pause to acknowledge three recipes were mentioned and we really don’t have the time to go into detail for all of them. Fret not dear audience, you will get your fried rice recipe eventually. But we shall focus on the pancakes and the mango milk for now :3

*

After adding the finishing touches to the rice he nearly wanted to take a bowl and eat the entire thing himself. Alas he had workers to feed, and he had promised pancakes. Still he scooped some into a side dish bowl before calling Candy Apple in to deliver it to all the various stations in the spire. Witches bless her portal magic, he would’ve hated to travel the full distance between places.

She was finished her delivery before his bowl was even empty.

“Is it good?!” He offered a spoonful to her and she hummed.

“You have to make that for me next time! You gotta! Or else I’m gonna burn your socks off in your sleep.”

“What if not wearing any?” He scraped the remains out of the bowl and held the spoon out for her again. “Kidding, I’ll make sure my feet are covered for the next week so your evil plans can hatch. Let’s start on those pancakes now.”

-

Pure Vanilla was sure he didn’t need to specify the recipe of pancakes. Yes, if anybody was curious, they could check the comment section. (/srs)

He and Candy Apple Cookie collaborated on the process, where she was measuring the dry ingredients while he prepared the wet ingredients. He let her hold the bowl with the wet ingredients to pour it in bit by bit while he held the mixer. She was good for obeying the “go” and “stop” commands in that regard, but he was still not sure to trust her with the electric whisk.

Then of course, he added a few mixed berries and maple syrup onto the stacks of pancakes and a swirl of whipped cream for decoration. They enjoyed the pancakes sitting against the stove and chatted about current events, and this is where he hit to ask her about sapphire’s odd disappearance this morning. Or, afternoon. They were both eating their first meal of the day right now while the sun had been up for ages. Or it would’ve been if time worked normally, which it didn’t! Appearently he’d been out for a while, way before Pure Vanilla woke up anyway.

And he’d been acting weird since Pure Vanilla went out of commission temporarily. Scribbling notes into his script, annotations that made no sense. He was, as Candy Apple had called it “practically writing love letters in the margins of his rumor agendas.” This would all be funny enough if Pure Vanilla hadn’t previously worked so hard to help him get over his breakup.

“Geez, all those jam out sessions for nothing.” He rested his head against the glass door of the oven, “Will it be good for him, do you think?”

“What do I know? I’ve never had a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Or… any friend.” He paused briefly, “But that doesn’t bother me! Shadow Milk Cookie’s attention is all I need to stay alive! Besides, now that master Shadow Milk Cookie is back from his imprisonment, there’s been so many new playthings coming to the spire. I’ll friends out of them while they last.”

“Do they?”

“Hmmm, naw. They get so boring after a while, they just don’t understand the wonderful things deceit can do, so they gots ta go!”

Hmm well. “If you’re not opposed to it, I can be your friend. No pressure. I’ll still make you mango milk if you say no.”

Candy Apple crossed her arms and drummed her fingers along her biceps. “I’ll think about it, mister Vanilla Cookie. I’m still jealous of you, ya know!”

Only natural, since he took up quite a lot of Shadow Milk time for the last week or so. Last several weeks. How strange, that the master of lies never seemed to leave him alone: except for today, just after sharing their most vulnerable moment yet.

Was that all it took? Prying too far into Shadow Milk’s true self, hardly touching beyond the illusion and yet scaring him so harshly he hadn’t even tried to stop Black Sapphire Cookie on his way down.

Really, who knew? Him, potentially. But everything in this spire was potential. Well, almost everything.

“I’ll attend all your tea parties and bring the tastiest biscuits I can bake?”

She pursed her lips in thought. “Deal.” She said, extending her hand and almost letting the plate fall off her lap before catching it with her other.

“Deal.” They shook on it.

He took the plate from her hand and placed it in the sink with his own.

*

While he was busy chopping up the mangoes, a particularly careful gait followed the shadow creeping down the hall. He only knew because Candy Apple was too light and Shadow Milk’s feet hardly ever touched the floor.

“Welcome back, Black Sapphire Cookie.”

“Huh? Oh. Hello. You’re looking… refreshed.”

He pushed the mango cubes aside with his knife and cut the other half of it. “Had a nice morning, Candy Apple is in the living room waiting for me to make this mango milk recipe. Say, does your boyfriend like mangoes?”

“Silverbell? I’m pretty sure he hasn’t ever tried—- Waitwaitholdonasecond?!” He waved his hands out in front of him, “how did you know me and Silverbell were…”

“Spotless room, books and figurines arranged to be off the floor, vinyl records and cds on the wall instead of in the cd player or gramophone, and carpet is even hoovered so there’s no beads, crumbs or candy wrappers on the floor.”

Black Sapphire slouched and crossed his arms, “So?? Maybe I was in a cleaning mood while you were busy making your bedroom messier by the day.”

“Oh, I’m sure my bedroom could’ve gotten Very messy in the last day or five.” He didn’t need to imply that, it just that the next thing he was going to say required him to slip into equally strange territory; “But you, Black Sapphire Cookie, left a jarring piece of evidence behind.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

He pushed the second batch of mango cubes aside and reached for a second mango to peel it. “Your bed wasn’t made up.  Or more like, it was, but in that specific way that one might effortlessly toss their sheets back into place on an early morning when they’re too tired to make it neat; you slept in your own bed last night instead of on the ceiling.”He raised his eyes back up to catch Black Sapphire’s hilarious reaction, “So obviously, you were trying to make your bed smell like you, which you wouldn’t have done unless you wanted to have a boy over. Though tell me, why’d you immediately assume I meant Silverbell when I asked about your boyfriend?”

“Because… um…” he slinked back across the threshold, “Fine, you caught me. I went to see him again, and now he’s chilling in my room. Grrhhh, Shadow Milk should have fed you an apple before he left for the Garden of Delights. That way he could’ve told you to stay quiet until he came back and you’d listen.”

“Oh? How do you know where he’s off to?”

“I read his letter. Anyway it’s not that important. He’s going to be gone a couple of days, so I thought it was a good time to…” he blushed, “Listen, do not let Candy Apple Cookie, or anyone else for that matter know about this. It remains our secret.”

He kissed his pinky and held it out. “A good therapist promises confidentiality. Your secret is safe with me, Saffy.”

Chapter Text

The sun and moon had traded places at least twice before Shadow milk cookie ever returned from the Garden of Delights.

Pure Vanilla had tried keeping track of the date, to no avail as the spire would change the day or week or even month at random.

And so, his only frame of reference for time at all was the other inhabitants of the spire, such as candy apple cookie who was at his side trying to shake the sleep out of him.

“I’m up, I’m up!” He said, slurring the words a little, “What do you want.”

“You promised to show me how to make fried rice, remember?”  She bounced on the tips of her feet. “No time to waste! Into the kitchen, Emo boy!”

His drowsiness faded away by the time they made it to the kitchen. He yawned and stretched and then got right to work.

He couldn’t find the measuring cup so he decided to eyeball the rice and sprinkle a teaspoon of tuneric over it before he turned on the cooker. It’s fine, it’ll be fine.

Next he chopped the vegetables — Carrots, bell peppers and spring onions. Candy apple cookie requested mushrooms and he did some just for her.

Then in an oiled wok he added the meat, carrots, etc you know the drill.

He left candy apple cookie to stir it all around while he raided the spice rack.

“For seasoning, you must tap into your inner cooking spirits, the ancestors of your lineage that all family recipes descend from.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“It’s… necessary,” he continued, “Tradition often seems ridiculous to those unacquainted. Watch and learn.” He added soya sauce, garlic powder, salt and pepper, and cumin.

Adding the rice, then all the seasonings, he let Candy apple cookie mix it all around. He also showed her how to add an egg into the rice to infuse it. (He also shoved everything to one side of the pan, added a second beaten egg and whisked it with wooden chopsticked until it cooked into tiny little pieces of egg, just so she knew how to do it.)

Both satisfied with their newest little creations, they sat down to eat it. He said he’d do the washing up for her, and she promised to make him an extra juicy sweet fruit tea when she got the chance. Seems his passion for cooking was starting to rub off on her.

He’d emptied the remaining contents of the pan, enough rice and veg for a third person to eat, into a spare bowl and sealed it with cling film and put in the fridge.

It was while he was toweling the bowls dry that he felt the air go frigid again. He pretended to ignore it, at least until the silence was broken.

“Ooo~ is that pure vanilla I see, doing the dishes?” Shadow Milk spoke in an oddly gentle manner, like he was cooing, “How polite of him! Why don’t we go say hello!”

“Shadow Milk, I swear to the Witches if you’re holding some kind of wild animal in your hands I’m going to grab a fork out of this sink and shove it in your eye socket.” He felt a light tug on his hair and stiffened. “Shadow Milk.”

“Oop, he doesn’t like that. Careful, don’t fall—“ something like nails clicked against the counter behind him. He expected shadow milk to tell him what was going on, but instead he felt those two lithe arms wrap around his torso like spider claws caging him in. “Hey Nilly~! So you know how I dictate your entire schedule and can choose to give you a busy week of puzzles and stuff at random?”

He continued scrubbing the dishes.

“So, I checked, and it looks like your Fuh-Reeee!” He tightened his hold, “You have no tasks to be doing, not even check on little Sapphy after his boy-toy decided to crawl back asking for a second chance.”

“I’m pretty sure Black Sapphire cookie was the one crawling, but sure.” He put more pressure into his scrubbing, “What do you want?”

Shadow Milk finally let go, drifting back to his mysterious pet. “Well, since you’re so kind and caring and— Bleugh, Benevolent, I thought I might give you a job you actually enjoy doing for once. Turn around!”

He braced himself for the potentially feral hound that could be sitting chained up on the counter. Instead what he saw was a little tiger the colour of red sandstone.

“A kitten?”

“Surprise! My dear colleague told me I couldn’t raise a child for two weeks without it crumbling, and I told him I’d prove him wrong!”

“So… you’ve adopted a wild Spice?”

He shrugged and crossed his arms, settling on the spinning chair on the other side of the counter. “Adopted sounds rather official. I would call it extended babysitting! Anyway, meet your new lil guy… eh, I don’t know. It didn’t come with a name prepackaged. You’ll figure it out.”

Pure Vanilla put the sponge down slowly. “Me.”

“Yes, you.”

Pure vanilla gestured with his hands, “What happened to, “shadow milk cookie can’t raise a child for two weeks without it crumbling”? Why is it my job to take care of the child he sacked on you?”

“Because he’s right!” He said confidently, spreading his arms wide. “I’m only going to crumble it within maybe a day, but instead of admitting defeat I’m just going to use an age old trick known as delegation—“ he annunciated every syllable of the word, “—he never said I had to be its main provider, just that I had to take care of it.”

“And how long do you plan on making me do this exactly,” pure vanilla squinted, turning his full body to face the jester. “What reward would I even be getting out of this?”

Shadow milk pouted and leaned against the counter, “Awww, boo! Does puppy want treat for every small task?”

“I’m— what did you just say?! Forget it, shadow milk, I’m not doing it.” He returned to scrubbing the dishes, only more motivated to get the stubborn remains of the rice stuck to the bottom of the wok off.

After a long silence shadow milk groaned. “Fine, name your terms.”

“Not going to suggest terms? Your negotiation skills are rusty today.”

“Well I can’t offer you freedom in That Attire,” he said, obviously referring to the shorter robes pure vanilla was wearing today which cut at his elbow and his knees, providing him more freedom of movement, “And again, I Own your soul jam, it’s not like I can give that back.”

“You don’t own it.”

“Yes I d—I own You, you’re stuck here unless I say so. That means you’re my property, my possession, my puppet to command.”

“Mhm, mhm.”

“Are you trying to ignore me?” He floated up closer, “One month of no torment, how about that?”

Pure Vanilla was honestly just trying not to make any comments about the whole Owning thing. Especially after… everything else that had occurred in two months. “And what about the servants I have to feed between taking care of this child?”

“I’ll cook for them!” Shadow Milk insisted, getting down on his knees. “Please, I cannot be humiliated by Burning Spice cookie of all the beasts. He’s like, the only one that respects me.”

“They don’t sound like very good friends if the one hell bent on Destruction is the only one who shows you any modicum of respect.”

“Uuhm.” Shadow Milk got off the floor. “You know what, stop distracting me. Do it or I’ll make you sick again!”

Pure Vanilla had to fight from turning around too early. “Will you take care of me like you did last time?”

“No!”

“Then who will nurse the kitten?”  His hands were twitching to remain composed and normal, but he was So Close to saying something that might catch shadow milk off guard — and with every passing moment the conversation’s stakes rose, he started thinking it would be perfect comedy if he just found the right time. “Sapphy won’t do it, Apple won’t do it.”

“They will.”

“So why not ask them?” Finally he snuck a side glance at shadow milk. “I have the distinct feeling you want me to do it.”

Shadow Milk raised his hand under his chin. “How’d you deduct that, genius?”

Pure Vanilla decided to turn around now, tilted his head with a polite smile he hoped looked sort of unsettling in context. “Either you’re desperate, or you just want to see me being soft again.”

“Pfft. Is that your attempt of getting under my dough? I’d rather starve than see you soft again.”

“Oh really?” He said, taking shadow milk’s hand, “That makes sense, I guess. Toys that are harder to break require less maintenance.” He stepped back, pressing himself against the sink. “But then again, I recall you loved it when I was vulnerable, in some way it amused you to just think about my fragility.”

“Uh. I don’t like where this is going. Take your hand off mine right now.”

“No, I get it. Being a parent is hard work.” He said, same arrogant grin plastered on his face, “Even the Fount of Knowledge couldn’t handle the song and dance of treating something so gentle with care. That’s why you need me to do it; because I actually know how to care about things without wanting to crush them.” The snare trap set off and next he knew his wrists were pinned down by his sides, shadow milk’s body pressed close and his shadow tendrils expanding to snuff out the light in the rest of the room.

His face was overshadowed by pitch black, only his raging eyes visible.

“You seem to have forgotten who you’re talking to.” He said, “If you’re so intent on testing my patience, I can assure you the price is not affordable for someone so feeble and foolish.”

“You need me.” Pure Vanilla cookie said. “Because you’d rather be on bad terms with me than burning spice cookie, it’s a shame. I’m so much more useful.”

“Oh yeah?” He said, teeth showing, “You’re nothing more than a plaything and a servant to me. At best, I value you only for your skills, nothing more.”A shadow tendril wrapped around his neck and squeezed, “If you’d like, I can grant you that eternal peace you Oh So yearn for when this is all over. Maybe that’s why you’re being so incompetent.”

Pure Vanilla cookie had to drop the ball any moment now. “You can. But you’ll miss me when you do. So, what position have you found me in?” He wrestled free of shadow milk’s grip and reached up to his ruffle collar, “The one where I’m at your mercy,” and pulled, “Or you’re at mine?”

Shadow Milk’s breath caught like he was trying not to inhale any of the same oxygen as pure vanilla cookie. “What are you yapping about!”

“Choices, Milky.” He tilted his head, whispering as delicately as a doll might, “You’re not the one with the upper hand here. If I can’t take care of that kitten, you’ll end up losing the bet to your arrogance. Nobody can do this but me, that’s why you need me.” Shadow milk tried pulling away to increase the distance and pure vanilla’s grip on his collar only got tighter, “But on the other hand, that does give me the freedom to ask whatever I want of you, heh. One month of no torment you say? Sounds enticing, certainly: but I have a couple other requests to make.”

“Point made. Quit playing and name your terms already.” He wrestled away but pure vanilla just brought him closer.

“You’re not allowed to preform any tricks on me. You have to cook breakfast or dinner for me when I’m in busy in other duties.”

“It’s a cat.” He pitched, “You literally won’t need all day for it.”

“You also have to let me sleep full amounts. Oh and, because I’m in a mood for sweet things, a rainbow crepe cake when it’s over. I’ll write a recipe if you agree.”

Finally shadow milk succeeded to get out of his grip and gasped for breath. “Fine. One rainbow crepe cake, your health at an all time high and I’ll learn off whatever recipe magic you’ve been preforming day and night. But only for you.” He crossed his arms and all his eyes either shut or averted. It’s as if he knew the next sentence before it was spoken.

“How chivalrous of you.” Pure Vanilla said. “Allow me to finish the dishes now.”

Snap!

They were already done and floating on their merry way into the cabinets where they belonged. Shadow Milk sat with a deep flush on his face.

“Eh, Thank you.”

“You smell repugnant. Brush your teeth please.”

“They’re brushed.”

“Go again.” He flicked a hand. “Go on.”

Pure Vanilla had to hold back a snicker. Toying with him was kind of fun. One thing was for certain; he did subtlety much better.

Chapter Text

Pure Vanilla had fostered many animals in his time before being an ancient hero. Even when he was ruling the peaceful vanilla kingdom, animals were taken good care of. One small and wildly energetic kitten was nearly like being young again.

And as established before, Shadow Milk knew this through and through, watching from a high perch on the ceiling in the early days as Pure Vanilla tried to give the cat baths, convince it to eat the cat treats and ham slices he set out or even just to sit still. 

It screamed at him the entire time, and often tried to bite or claw his hand. He could hear the laughter echoing down from above. It only made his resolve more steeled.

But just like every other living thing in the spire (except for Shadow Milk, boohoo) the kitten succumbed to his gentle touches and commands, and got used to his scent as a sign of safety. It must’ve thought he was safe. By the third day he could introduce it to the others, Black Sapphire who merely reached out and blew a raspberry at it when it hissed and Candy Apple Cookie who went into “child seeing a kitten” mode and started trying to hold it down so she could pet it.

Shadow Milk made his appearance on occasion, mostly to take over for Pure Vanilla when he was busy doing something else more important, and Pure Vanilla often found him making the kitten float or teaching it words from Black Sapphire’s discarded love letters to Silverbell. How humiliating it would be if Black Sapphire Cookie ever found out. His prose was lengthy.

Black Sapphire Cookie had actually picked up playing guitar in the time since he’d gotten back together with his boyfriend. He also spoke to some of the rumour weavers, now whispers of some orchestral confession wafted through the halls of their unit in the spire. They respected the chief executive of the Rumour Weaving department far too much to say anything that was disrespectful, so they must’ve thought it was sweet. 

Candy Apple Cookie had also learned how to take walks by herself when she got too upset or overwhelmed. Sometimes she sat all alone in the gardens and talked to herself, weaving up whole speeches from her mind into the open air. Pure Vanilla didn’t disturb her, and neither did anybody else. 

And because Shadow Milk hadn’t been torturing him, his mornings were actually rather peaceful, bleeding into equally languid afternoons and evenings. Well, not everyday. But compared to snakes, board games with life or death outcomes and his own friends being hung over his head, having to dodge sharp paws smaller than his hands was a no brainer.

The gingergang had also been allowed to escape, since Shadow Milk Cookie knew they had no use for now, and would inevitably return to be crumbled one day.

So what replaced terror, living nightmares and the slow chipping away of his old self, was morning walks through the silver garden, listening to the bluebells sing, steaming (seriously, too hot) cups of tea that chilled too quickly, but did so in a way that made the lingering heat of the cup bring it back to a calming temperature, and lots of keeping up with new demands from servants between play sessions or feeding time with the kitten. 

Shadow Milk had been right — it almost had no effect on his daily routine at all. So what did he fill all the time not being tortured with?

Art projects.

Lots and lots of art projects. Knitting, sewing, painting. He stopped painting because Shadow Milk kept snickering like he was going to mess something up and the anxiety wasn’t worth the effort.

He liked the other two though. Shadow Milk had a bunch of sewing stuff, which he asked to use when they were both lazing around not doing anything in particular.

For some reason, he agreed, seemingly having grown bored of watching him be all soft and sweet to the kitten. In his words “as long as you’re quiet, I don’t care. Just don’t rip the fabrics or waste thread.”

To be frank, Shadow Milk had also lost the vital routine of yesterweek, and thus his own search for stimulation had made him… crazier, in a way, maybe even more violent in his projects. But none of it was happening to Pure Vanilla Cookie, so he didn’t really know if he had a right to interfere with the deceitful master’s latest set of tricks. He was always writing something. 

A document of how the kitten raising was going? That’s what the rumour weavers said. Nothing that came from that hallway should be trusted. Truth was non-existent. And yet, for a short moment in the spire’s long history, the place felt kinder. And maybe that was up to the sudden long disappearances of its master, for hours or a full day sometimes. But through it all, the air felt warmer, his body growing fuller, less abused by whatever was keeping him so down before. 

One day, Shadow Milk handed him a to-do list, a stack of letters and a ring of keys, telling him he’d be gone for a full day, sun and moon, so he should find all the necessary workers in each department of Deceit and hand them his letter of instructions. He also mentioned Candy Apple Cookie would take him around if he was ever lost. 

How considerate.

But he had indeed gone a full day without explanation and what came of that was a long, long journey of trying to find everyone on the list and hand them a letter.

Honestly, being a courier wasn’t so bad if not for the slippery floors, random spikes, hot and cold weather inside, a few arrows and axes, a whole lot of ticking clocks and paintings whose eyes followed him, and uneasy senses of being watched by creatures that were Not the Master of Deceit.

But with the help of those who he’d befriended in the massive expanse of the place, all letters were delivered and he could finally start on dinner. To accommodate the Kitten’s diet, he tried out a spicy Gochujang chicken recipe today.

Candy Apple Cookie had decided then and there to tell him all about this story idea she’d conjured up after sitting in the blue garden and listening to the roses sing choir and opera songs while some of the Black Vanilla Orchids played orchestra using their leaves and stems to hold instruments.

“So, so. It starts off with these three Cookies — warlock, doctor and pilgrim — finding themselves in an alternate world!”

He added minced garlic, sugar, regular soya sauce, sesame seeds and oil, a spoon of gochujang, cornstarch and water into a bowl as she spoke, “Uh huh?”

“And this alternate world — I will have to do some research for inspiration — is super weird and unlike anything two of them have seen — except the warlock but that’s in their backstory which we haven’t gotten to yet.”

He mixed the ingredients as she punctuated her story with a sip of tap water she’d gotten as he was measuring out the ingredients. 

“And basically, these three protagonists are all from way different backgrounds but as the story goes on, they learn they’re not so different. I probably shouldn’t get into the details or else we’ll never make it to the rest of the story.”

“Oh but, we’ve got a whole day. Really, a whole eternity.” He said as he struggled to pull open the fridge and take out the pack of chicken breast, “I’ll be here till I’m done so, it’s not like you’ll run out of time.”

“Okay, well, basically they learn about this dude right, I dunno what to call him but he’s super evil and he’s controlling the whole world — oh, this is because a read a book once and I really wish they’d done the villain better, so it’s all power fantasy from here.”

“Makes sense.”

“So they witness him doing some really evil stuff, coercing this girl to sacrifice her life for her sister, kinda almost murdering their dad, ya know I’ll figure it out. Point is, he starts crumbling the world! Like, it’s falling apart and they’re running away and the dude whose backstory I still need to write is able to use his magic to call on a higher entity and open a portal!”

“This sounds incredibly thought out, are we sure this is still a gochujang chicken recipe?” He said, having sliced the chicken into smaller chunks and dropped them into a bowl of flour to cover them evenly. “Okay, keep going. Now where are the frying pans…”

“Cabinet to your left. Down, no no, other way, there!” She pointed as she tried to guide him, though he really couldn’t see behind him without his staff aside from quick glances. “Yeah, there you go. So, the portal, right? Evil guy is almost there, so one of them decides to stay behind to fend him off while the other two run back into their world.”

“Do we get to learn much about the evil entity? That’s fascinating.” He put the stove on medium high heat, and as he waited for it to heat up he gave his commentary, “I think it could be really interesting if instead of that character staying behind, the evil entity takes them away as a price for using his magic. An eye for an eye situation.”

“Yes! Oooh, thanks for the idea. What’s that?” 

Once the oil in the pan had heated up, he poured the flour-coated chicken into it and began to mix it around. “It’s for the kitten, but I’m sure you can have a plate too.”

“Yay!!” 

He turned the fan above the stove to maximum, and continued stirring, “So does the story end there?”

“No, I have a part two and three already planned out.”

“Tell me about it.”

She continued on to explain what might be the second book in her trilogy, the one where the two remaining protagonists find a way to save the third, and she told him about all sorts of new side characters she was going to introduce, such as another powerful sorceress, a courageous knight, and finally a strangely familiar sounding angel, who Candy Apple said she wasn’t really sure where to include, just that she liked the idea of having more women in the story to even out the casting. 

“Maybe she just exists to boost morale and guide them to their next plot point.” Now he had set aside the golden crispy fried chicken and used the same pan to fry some onions (conveniently left over from his last kitchen excursion) until they were translucent. He brought the bowl of sauce back and poured in all the contents, then allowed it to simmer. “Well, what happens after they meet her?”

“Uh. I dunno. I’m thinking of a tea house, but that sounds way too out of place. Unless I set it in some mystic garden where the other protagonist, the doctor, is from.”

“That works.” 

“Yeah, so. They figure out a way to get the third character free but, because I really want this to be an epic trilogy, I’m making a third plotline as a direct consequence of freeing them.”

“Oooo. Neverending tale, you could be a millionaire if you tried.”

“Oh please, money means nothing to those who follow master Shadow Milk Cookie.” She said, spinning around the high chair and kicking her feet. “The third part is kinda underdeveloped but basically they have to fight this huge monster that eats people’s souls, and the big plot twist is that it’s both the reason why they got sent to the alternate world, and it has an intrinsic connection to all three of them.” Candy Apple Cookie flipped her hands around, “Like I said, not thought out yet but the climax… I want it to be, one of them gets eaten and they sacrifice themselves to kill the monster.”

“What about the doctor? Does she play a role?”

“Ooo. Yeah, forgot about her.” Candy  Apple squinted, “She can be the focus of book two when I get more subplots, the story is meant to end with the remaining two grieving the loss of a friend, some kind of bittersweet ending. I dunno, a sad song was playing when I imagined the ending. But that’s what I have so far!”

Pure Vanilla checked on the sauce which had thickened quite a bit, and poured in the chicken then stirred and garnished with sesame seeds and green onions. “What a coincidence, this dish is basically finished, can you get some bowls and a little plate out for me?”

Candy Apple Cookie did as she was told and he gave her a portion, one for himself and a nice mini-plate full of it for the kitten which had been laying asleep on a white jacket distinctly giving off a floral scent when he leaned down to carry the sleeping baby onto the table so it could eat.

“Whaddya think? Any notes?”

Pure Vanilla smiled and picked up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks (Seeing as the dish originated in the Flour Peaks, he should use their utensils too.) “Well, I’d be excited to read it if you ever got around to making a first draft. Maybe you could try adding a bit more context to the relationship between the magician and the pilgrim? And, just to link it all together, maybe the entity they call upon to free them from the alternate world is the same monster they end up having to fight in the end.”

“I was gonna have the Warlock’s patron be a character in the second and third book, but I’ll consider it.” She said, “Oh, what brings them all together is that they’re all worshipping their own false deity, and as they connect they learn to let go of the lies and overcome uncertainty together. Something like that.”

The kitten had its fill of meat, Candy Apple Cookie complimented his cooking yet again and they played a few rounds of Uno with Black Sapphire and Silverbell, who was finally comfortable enough to talk to everyone.

Candy Apple Cookie said he looked the same age as her and he insisted he was a least as old as the silver tree. She plus fluted him and said, “Wish that would go to your age instead of your already massive card deck, my bro ain’t catching a case this early into his life.”

“I’m also as old as the silver tree, brat. Older even. I was alive when this place was still called the tower of all Knowledge.”

“Booo, you and your boyfriend should be in a retirement home, not playing cards with us hipster kids.” She leaned over to Pure Vanilla Cookie, “You only have my respect because you’re helping me win and you fed me chicken earlier.”

“Do you have a plus two?”

“Uh. Not telling.” 

He smiled and placed a reverse card. “I’ll be nice to you. For now.”

“Swear to Shadows, if you pull a plus two on me, I’m going to start telling you to collect your pension.”

Silverbell smiled nervously, “Sapphie…”

“Yes Bell?”

He put down a plus two. 

Sapphire grinned viciously and put down another plus two. 

“Are we stacking?!” Candy Apple asked.

Pure Vanilla scrunched his face apologetically and placed down the third and final plus two. “I’m so sorry, child.”

“AAAAAAGGGHH!” She screamed, throwing her cards up in the air, “Fuck you, Fuck you, and especially,” she said, pointing at Black Sapphire Cookie, “I hope you die of organ failure from your old age.”

“Ahaha. Good thing the spire had feee healthcare.” He said. “Oh, Candy Apple Cookie, calm down. I’ll let you plus four me.”

“I don’t have a plus four.” Silverbell said quickly, handing the six cards over to Candy Apple Cookie who was fuming. Maybe three months ago she would’ve ripped the whole deck up. Credits to Therapist Nilla for getting her to a state where she didn’t. 

“Do you have a blue reverse?” Pure Vanilla asked. Silverbell meekly placed down an colour changer and set the colour to green, then Sapphure placed the green reverse, Silverbell put down his second last card and called uno, and Candy Apple Cookie out down her plus four, Pure Vanulla followed suit, and Black Sapphire Cookie made a dramatic show of lowering his cards, turning his eyes to Silverbell with the evilest grin known to Cookie kind. 

“…don’t do it.” Silverbell said. “Please.”

“Ehehehe….Aahahaa,” most would call it descending into laughter, this was more like ascending. “Quick— Quick question. Can we double stack if we have two of the same cards?”

Everyone yelled out or laughed or, in Silverbell’s case, shrieked. 

“NOOOOO!” Silverbell screamed. “NO! OR I WILL LEAVE YOU HERE FOR THE REMAINING MONTH YOU HAVE TO LIVE THROUGH.”

Pure Vanilla looked at the rules and shrugged. Candy Apple Cookie clapped her hands together in excitement.

“It doesn’t even say you can stack plus cards; so I guess you can do it now if you want.”

“Oooo, Silverbell~!” Black Sapphire said, pulling out two cards. Pure Vanilla accidentally caught sight of the two cards and knew he needed to prepare a healing spell for the black bruise incoming. 

“Please. Please no.” Silverbell sobbed dramatically.

Black Sapphire put the cards down and started taking his eight cards. Silverbell sighed with relief.

“I was bluffing.” Black Sapphire sorted the cards by colour into his deck, “I don’t have any plus fours.”

“Oh you scheming, lying, sour little— you’re bottoming next time.”

“Excuse me?!” All three of them roared into shock, Candy Apple shrieked, Black Sapphire went bright magenta and Pure Vanilla couldn’t help but laugh his eyes to tears. 

“Silverbell, I would never think!”

“Don’t tell anybody from the fairy kingdom about this, okay? Especially not her Highness White Lily. She’s been gone for a while now, but when she comes back I’d rather she not… you know.” 

“Again, the secret is sealed. What happens in the spire stays in the spire.” He kissed his pinky again as a gesture of promise. Silverbell kissed his pinky too. And then, he placed down the final card and won the game.

*

Pure Vanilla was brushing his hair in front of his vanity mirror when he noticed the shadows in his room darken up and fill with eyes.

“It’s really cute how you’ve grown so used to this place being peaceful.” Shadow Milk said, “And by that I mean, I went outside for once and you know what? I don’t treat you the way I think would be best for us both.”

Pure Vanilla kept brushing. “That’s a roundabout way of saying absolutely nothing to me.” He wanted to assume Shadow Milk was thinking of ramping up the torment after the month was up, but that was far too predictable. “So, are you waiting for new requests to be made regarding the state of things?”

Shadow Milk didn’t materialise yet. Instead his shadowy tendrils slinked up and around Pure Vanilla’s figure, in an odd way that made his ribs tickle. “I’m saying I should make you more comfortable so the drop back into breaking you is that much steeper. Like pulling back an arrow so it flies faster.”

Pure Vanilla couldn’t ignore the rush of his jam as the shadowy tendrils grazed over parts of him that most cookies wouldn’t dare go. “Shadow Milk…”

“You’re gonna hate me.” He said, sounding all too happy, “OoOoh, I can’t wait to see the flurry of tears in your eyes when I take all that sense of safety and I rip it to shreds. Remember that from now on. Nothing is real. It’s all a lie.”

Chapter Text

He went to bed knowing something was wrong but being unable to pinpoint how. He expected, like the last nights before, that the question would burn up his mind. Instead his stomach twisted and tingled like an oncoming fever coupled with a stomachache, and the spinning of his head sent him to sleep the rest of the night.

When he awoke, the air was warm still, the cardboard sun was in the sky and nothing had changed, only that his body felt as if it had been touched by white magic. Strange, not a single sign of any bruising or scaring aside from what was there already.

So maybe, it really was on incoming fever and someone had helped him overcome it in his sleep.

Well. No point in pondering. He could see in his reflection that his hair was growing unpleasantly textured by lack of care. So he picked up his staff and traveled down to the milk baths.

Ah, the milk baths. Pools of milk that obeyed the wants and needs of all its guests, thanks to the magic enchanting it. No cookie crumbled in the milk, and its soothing feel on dough made it near impossible to leave once you got comfortable.

Long-time residents grew accustomed to that feeling and it lost its effect over time. He was busy wetting his hair, and as he was climbing onto the raised platforms to climb out of the pool, someone pulled his feet out from under him and dragged him back down, and then a chilly aura descended.

“Need any help with that?” 

“Uhm. No, I’m fine actually.” Pure Vanilla turned around and sat against the edge of the pool knowing he didn’t really have a choice anyhow.

Shadow Milk already had a bottle in his hand, the same one he used the last time Pure Vanilla was too sick to function. “I missed taking care of you like this, you know.”

“Ironic that you don’t seem to miss taking care of any other living thing in this whole expanse of nonsense.”

Shadow Milk’s soaped up hands shoved them none too gently into his hair. “Why so moody today? It’s like you lost sleep or something.”

“I’m not beating around the bush.” He said, turning his head up at Shadow Milk, “What was last night all about?”

“I don’t follow.”

“The threats, the… shadow caressing, the fever symptoms.”

Shadow Milk hesitated. “The fever was a natural result of your environment. I fixed it for you. Aren’t you thankful?”

“Not the point. Your shadows were moving in places they shouldn’t be.”

Shadow Milk made a guttural sound. “Is that what you’re concerned about?” He patted Pure Vanillas shoulders to signal he should wash off. When he returned, Shadow Milk was sitting on another part of the raised platform. “Listen, I went out to see the world, and I came back with ideas, it’s just that I can’t put them in place until your time is up. That’s all.”

“And the fact you’re—“

“Forget it!” He said, voice echoing off the wall. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to.”

For a moment Pure Vanilla wanted to press further, but intuition won out and he sank back. “Okay. I believe you.”

Shadow Milk’s anger fell into smugness. “You shouldn’t.”

“It’s an expression of trust, Milky, I know you’re hiding things.”

“You shouldn’t trust me either.”

Pure Vanilla rolled his eyes skyward. “Y’know what? Fuck off. Get out of here.”

Shadow Milk dematerialised, but he wasn’t gone before his shadow slinked up the wall shouting “I live here, idiot! This place runs on My magic!”

He expected, from that little snippet, that their interactions would be few and far between today — a little eye contact here and there but overall uneventful until evening when Shadow Milk made him dinner as promised.

No… he walked into the Spire living room to find Shadow Milk with the cat resting in his lap. He took one look at Pure Vanilla’s towel hat and laughed like he was trying not to disturb the cat. “You look stupid.”

“Boo hoo. Would you rather I drip all over your pristine marble floor? Didn’t think so.”

Black Sapphire and Candy Apple were doing a puzzle in the corner. Sapphire looked over with a turned brow. “Did something happen…?”

“What could have possibly happened?” Shadow Milk said, “I’m just doing as I always do — taunting Pure Vanilla cookie.”

“And I’m responding with appropriate sarcasm.” Pure Vanilla crossed his arms. “How did you even get that thing to sleep on you?”

“Ever heard of magic slumber spells? Learned one from a dear friend of mine while I was in the garden.” He smiled wide like this was some kind of humble brag.

Pure Vanilla took his seat across from Shadow Milk, the minions still behind him and now communicating about puzzle pieces. 

“Sure. I should’ve known you were holding back on letting me rest before I forced your hand. On purpose, huh.”

“What are you two even talking about?” Candy Apple popped in. “You seem… angrier than usual.”

“I assure you nothing is out of the ordinary—“

“He threatened me. And he broke our deal. No tricks.”

That got Shadow Milk to lurch forward in exasperation. “What tricks did I use on you? I saved you the hassle of a cold! Honestly, I should make you cook tonight as a symbol of gratitude.”

“I owe you nothing.”

*
From behind them, neither of them heard over the ringing in their ears, but the pair of puzzle doers were whispering…

“There’s tension here.”

“No surprise, detective obvious. Why are they fighting?”

“No, wait. Listen for a second.”

…

…

“This makes really good rumour ma—“

“Shhh!”

…

…

“Should I tell the rumour weavers?”

“Yeah, whatever. They’re just glaring at each other,” Candy Apple tapped her chin, “That can’t be good for the kitten.”

“Want me to herald a guess?” Black sapphire got close and whispered in her ear, “I bet it’s all just unresolved miscommunication. They’ll resolve it by tonight and then…” he leaned back, “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you the rest. You might get antsy.”

“Antsy?!”

“Shhh! Yes, you’ll be running to the weavers before I do. Let’s just wait and see what happens.”

“Alright…”

The strange resentment in the room was doused by a card soldier coming in to tell everybody that the sink in the kitchen was clogged and Shadow Milk rose before anybody else to go check it out.

*

The next time the pair interacted was well into the afternoon, maybe as the sun would be on the horizon in the real world. Here it was more an intuitive feeling. 

The unnamed kitten was sleeping somewhere safe last he’d checked. He had taken it upon himself to walk through the gardens to clear his mind. He chose the blue courtyard, separated by five canals running into the centre where an island housing an apple tree was planted. He stepped over the moat and intended to sit against its wood to collect his thoughts.

Well, he ended up drifting off into slumber and when he came too, someone was near the moat chewing rather loudly on one of the apples. 

Actually, chewing implied there was still much flesh left. Shadow Milk cookie was gnawing on the core like a bone.

The strange sight made his heart drop but also he huffed out a bemused sound. Shadow Milk’s eyecings all turned to look at him. He held up a fresh apple, shiny and enticing. “Want one?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Shadow Milk shrugged. “Well I skipped breakfast. You haven’t eaten anything today.”

“I’ll be fine.” He said, shifting over to the beast, “It’s not like I’ve never gone through a day without food, I can last pretty long.”

“Mhm.” He said, taking a bite into the apple Pure Vanilla had just refused. “If I made you something else, would you eat it?”

What an odd question. 

“Well, of course. If you put in the time and effort to make me a meal, it would be rude of me to refuse.”

Pure Vanilla managed to come up next to Shadow Milk, who had one foot hanging off the edge and dipped into the milk-water surrounding the little hill with the tree. 

His eyes stayed trained in front of him but an icing looked over and seemed pleased to look at him. “You’re too soft for this place, Nilla.”

“You say that as if I haven’t survived more than two months here. All my limbs are in tact, and mental health is shockingly stable.”

“That’s because…” he stared into the river, “I’ve been going easy on you. I’m so much worse to people I don’t see value in.”

“Such as?”

“The common cookie!” He punctuated the sentence with a bite, “You saw how I treated your friends. If not for your… impressive constitution, they would’ve crumbled at my hands.”

“But they didn’t.” Pure Vanilla said, “And, you value me, so you won’t hurt me. There’s no point in dwelling on things that never happened. The future stretches ahead and fate isn’t rolling on the tracks that you envisioned in your mind. They’re on the ones that are rooted in reality.”

“Reality is whatever I make of it,” Shadow Milk denied. “So basically, yeah. I could change all of this so you’re much worse off if I wanted to.”

They listened to the river flowing, to the light breeze that always played with the leaves on the apple tree, another one falling down and rolling in the grass to his side. He picked it up and looked at his reflection in its shiny blue shield. “What do you want?”

Shadow Milk didn’t answer, taking another bite into his apple. Five cores had piled up at his side, all bare as if he’d sucked the flesh right off their stems. “If you don’t want to make it all worse for me, what do you want?”

“I do.”

“But you don’t. You’ve kept me happy thus far, you’ve let me make others happy. Deny it all you want, I brought light into this dark place. And now, I take it you’re divided between whether to keep it going or snuff it out.”

Shadow Milk turned his face away. “Everyone is so adjusted to your presence. Your kindness. It’s pathetic. But if I remove you or start treating you like I did when you first arrived, they’ll all flurry up in protest. That doesn’t benefit me like keeping you around does. But I hate it. I hate how nice you are most of the time.”

“Because…” Pure Vanilla hesitated, crashing into the realization he was about to throw a very risky bet on the wheel, “You’re jealous of them.”

“I’m not jealous.” 

“Then why does it bother you so much?”

“Can you just—!” Shadow Milk threw his hands down, the sixth apple rolling up to the pile. “Stop trying to dig deeper, okay? You shouldn’t be looking for this kind of stuff within me. I’m an evil trickster demigod and that’s all there is to it.”

“Clearly not.” When that earned him a glare from Shadow Milk cookie, he finally looked to the pile of apples, “Why so many apples?”

Shadow Milk’s eyes flashed worry and it spoke too many truths at once. “I was hungry.”

“For blue apples?”

“That’s irrelevant. I have a tolerance to them. I mean, it’s not like it’ll harm my body, this entire tower is a part of my dough.”

For explanation, the blue apples from this tree in particular caused cookies who consumed it to become more susceptible to Deceit, or would fill their mind with awful Truths and Lies that would drive them mad, or, if one is already corrupted by deceit, act as a stimulant that made them more… open to suggestion. Obviously, this was meant to mean Shadow Milk Cookie could turn the victims of this fruit into his puppets for any and all situations, like a mind control drug in shiny apple form.

Apparently building a tolerance diminished the amount of control he had over you. Pure Vanilla had avoided even touching the apples since the last time. 

At this point enough had come back to him that he was quite sure Shadow Milk had made him bark and roll over like a cake hound in front of all his trapped friends. It would be more humiliating if that was all he recalled, but the flush on Shadow Milk’s face after he snapped Pure Vanilla out of it couldn’t be ignored. It lined up with quite a lot of information he’d gathered, but that wasn’t to be discussed at the moment.

“Why are you eating so many though?” He said, “Beasts might have increased appetites, but six apples feels like overkill. It’s also not nutritionally balanced at all.”

Shadow Milk stiffened up like something inside of him had cracked. “That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe.” Pure Vanilla said, knowing damn well he was about to hear it any moment now, “But it’s not normal behaviour. Have you seen yourself? You act like you’re relapsing an addiction.”

That was the exact combination of words needed to let it spill. Shadow Milk’s hands stayed at his sides, claws going sharp and ripping up the grass. “That pink haired friend of yours sure does love her berry juice. But you know beneath that party spirit that she’s just as broken as you are. Everyone copes somehow.”

“Yes, and her story’s message is that Avoiding pain won’t help you in the long term.”

“You’d know.” He sneered, “What are you even doing here? You have a cat to attend to.”

“I’m taking a break from it all.” He said, “That’s good for you, taking breaks. The same cannot be said for overdosing what is basically a drug to you.”

“It’s enough that you’ve seen me like this.” He said, “You shouldn’t take it upon yourself to stop me. I’m not looking for someone to fix me.”

So, was he right in his guesses then? 

Shadow Milk was trying to get high off the apple juice so he could pretend away some kind of hurt. How often had he done this?

“Not often!” He insisted. “It… it used to be worse. Before you arrived.” He bit his lip and turned away. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“I’ll pretend to forget.”

“No you won’t.” He said, “You’ll run with what I’ve said and make up a whole story that isn’t true. You don’t understand me.” He bite his tongue until his canines pierced and a droplet of blue jam could be seen on his teeth. “Just go away already.” 

Pure Vanilla understood that he was not going to get much further than this before Shadow Milk’s cracked facade repaired itself into a monstrous and violent one. He raised himself to his knees and used his staff to leverage himself up. 

“Alright.” He said softly. “But I’m here for anything you need.”

He stepped over the waters and went back the way he came. 

That evening, he wasn’t even sure if Shadow Milk cookie was going to feed him, but he still traveled down the the kitchen anyway and found Shadow Milk and Candy Apple cookie going over an entire recipe together, one she’d learned from Pure Vanilla cookie; fried rice, with the added bonus of jelly beef. 

Shadow Milk also spoke of making dessert, that which he had already started upon. But he shooed Pure Vanilla out of the kitchen before he could see just what was being made.

Dinner passed with a combination of lightheartedness and underlying tension, at least within Pure Vanilla cookie.

Well, Shadow Milk was right about him being unable to forget. It rang in his mind a notable few times as they ate dinner, and Shadow Milk would throw a tiny warning glance that went unnoticed by the others everytime. The cat ate a tiny plate of spice covered jelly beef on the floor by their feet.

Besides that, it was comforting to have dinner like this. 

He wanted to say it felt familiar, like a very brief period in his more youthful past when he had freshly baked heirs and they’d all sit around a table eating. He wondered if Shadow Milk knew just how many he ended up baking. He must, if he knows my lineage is still alive despite all the deaths in the dark flour war.

“Hm, Fun question!” Shadow Milk said, “How many of the Vanilla kingdom’s bloodlines stem back to you?”

“Uh.” Tapped his chin, gaze pinned at the ceiling, “Well, I suppose House Custard is one of the last major ones, but some of them surely still have my jam… I hear of a musician by the name of Creme brûlée cookie, and I’ve wondered from where he hails.”

“Boring! I could do so much better.”

Pure Vanilla turned his eyes down to Shadow Milk. “Have you ever heard him play?”

“No. But I’ve decided already that I’m better.”

“That’s a lot of bias you hold. Perhaps you should try gathering all the facts before you jump to conclusions.” He said, “Unless you enjoy living in hypocrisy like those fools you scorn so much.”

“I thrive in it, in fact! But at your request, sure. I’ll find him and kindly encourage him to play.  Then we will see…”

The dessert in question was another apple crumble. Just like last time, it looked and smelled delicious, and the taste was just heavenly: this time Pure Vanilla had the courage to say it aloud, and the other two agreed with him. Shadow Milk looked so proud of himself. He always did of course, but when Candy Apple cookie admitted that she missed when he used to bake he got a bit quiet, clearly not used to being so throughly made to face his past, even if it were post-fall.

Pure Vanilla cleared the whole plate, and rather neatly at that. It must’ve been a long day, because after only a few moments of the other two servants chatting among each other, his head began to spin, and something overtook him. His body unstiffened, he hadn’t even noticed how tense he’d been all evening until this quiet relaxation washed over him.

All other senses blurred and he could hardly hear the other two over the sound of his heart thumping, and his limbs getting heavy and light all at once.

“Oh, Nilly.” Shadow Milk’s voice rang clear through the mists, and when he looked up, it was like he was the only thing that existed in an out of focus camera shot. His smile could cut paper. “I do believe the kitten needs to be put to sleep.”

He stood up, feeling every nerve in his body suddenly stop belonging to him at all. 

And he should’ve been terrified by the prospect of being controlled like this. And yet, with the dim awareness he had to watch himself for the next hour until he fell asleep, he felt incomparably good.

*

The whole room was pitch black when he registered senses again. It was imperfect, a blurry kind of recognition, but something heavy was on him, pressed again him, smooth and warm.

He thought it was the kitten, but not only was it too big, but the little thing was snoring softly in the little cat bed next to his arm chair. 

He shifted a little in the hopes he could see from at least the corner of his eye — and realized that the smoothness was coming from his upper body being Dough-to-Dough with whoever was sleeping on top of him. 

His jam chilled at the prospect that someone had undressed him in his sleep. His panic must’ve manifested in physical symptoms, because the perpetrator shifted in response, and in the darkness he saw it. Blue eyes, glowing in the shadows. 

He recognized them, their crescent moon shape as they looked upon his terror with glee. 

“Shadow Milk…” he whispered. He couldn’t decide why his heart was racing. “Shadow Milk, what’s going on?”

A shadowy tendril lengthened out of the darkness and landed on his mouth, covering it. The eyes all pointed down to the sleeping body atop his, and his heart dropped into his stomach and exploded into butterflies as he realized that Shadow Milk cookie was not only sleeping on top of him, but his hair was trying to stop him from waking the precious little cookie up.

“I didn’t know you were sentient..?” He whispered to it. It glared at him. “No, I mean you have a mind of your own… how?”

All the eyes rolled and shut, and unfortunately, the beast stirred and winced as he was roused awake out of nowhere. “Mmmgh, shut up,” he whispered, and slapped the one remaining eye back like some kind of mayfly, “You’re a piece of me, that’s how. Shut up.”

“Um… Shadow Milk..?”

“Wha…?” He raised his head and then crashed back down onto his shoulder. “Ugh. Don’t. Go back to sleep.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.“ he raised his hand to map out just where the beast was positioned on him, “I have too many questions.”

“Well, you’re a good pup. You can’t wait till morning.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said shut up. All of you. That includes you, Nilly.” Well, who else? Did his hair talk to him sometimes? Honestly, that shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it wasn’t foreshadowed at all.

“Fine, come up with theories that aren’t true.” Shadow Milk groaned, pushing himself higher so his head rested on the pillow instead of Pure Vanilla’s shoulder. The sensation of their dough brushing as he did so sent Pure Vanilla Spiraling. “It’s more like a manifestation of my subconscious. That’s why it shows emotions more expressively. But you’re probably wondering what the hell I’m doing here, huh?” He scowled, “I got tired, okay? Didn’t wanna go back to my room so I… whatever.”

“And why am I shirtless?…No, that almost makes sense since I sleep like this anyway. Why are you shirtless?!”

“Because it’s… you like this. I noticed you have a weird thing for dough-to-dough contact with all your stupid hero friends and I got curious. You’re really sticky when you’re sweating. Your hands, I mean.” 

“Really? It was just curiosity?”

“Yes!” He insisted, “Urngh, this is exactly what I thought would happen! Don’t make this into a thing. I’m not secretly craving for this, it was pure speculation on what it would be like.”

“Well I believe you have an apathy to the goings on of mortal cookies, so it’s not above you to do all of this for some scientific hypothesis.” He brushed his hand over Shadow Milk’s hair. “Okay, that’s all I wanted to know. You don’t have to stay if you’re not comfortable anymore now you know I’m awake.”

All a sudden, Shadow Milk pushed himself up on his hands and knees so he would be looming over Pure Vanilla, his eyes glowing and his mouth curled into a tooth bearing snarl. 

“No. I think I should say something that’ll prevent this from happening again.” His nails dug into the mattress, “I really don’t like intimacy. It’s gross and it feels weird and it makes me feel small. Has anybody ever underestimated you? Does that sense of shame ever kick in as you realized someone is only half joking about you being too nice to hurt another person? Not me, of course. But, that settling, curling dread of seeing underneath their words, that they truly don’t think you’re capable enough to handle yourself? That’s what it feels like. I hate it, because if I decide to show even the tiniest margin of personhood under my all-powerful show of multi-genius, every witness goes along and constructs an entire narrative about me secretly being a soft, vulnerable creature that had to wear a hardened shell to fend off my own emotions, and they’re wrong!” His claws lengthened, “Say what you will, think what you will, I can tear you to pieces. And I’ll give you your fucking cake: Yes, it’s because I like having you in my Spire that I don’t, in every passing moment.” He leaned close, to emphasize his point, “The best thing you could do for me is forget that I have a soft side at all. Everyone who learns about it comes to infantilize me, to think it’s more important, or more real than my claws and teeth and venomous tongue.”

“Well I’ve lived with you for about two months and I can tell you those things are real.” Pure Vanilla said, “They’re real and they sting.”

“Exactly.” Shadow Milk said, “Never forget that. I’m not a fucking child, and just because I experience full body pains when I’m on the verge of tears, doesn’t mean I haven’t literally torn generations of cookie society apart. Are we clear on that?”

Pure Vanilla stared up at him, right in his glowing, frustrated eyes, and nodded. Despite all the blaring red flags he’d just revealed about his self image, there were more important things to say out loud. “Completely clear. So, are you going back to your room now?”

“Well.” He said, eyes falling closed again, “Tsk. Who cares? I don’t.”

“You do.” 

“Pure Vanilla cookie.”

“Hear me out, please,” he wrapped his arms around Shadow Milk’s neck and dragged him back down, “What you hate so much is when people define you by the pieces of yourself that you keep hidden away on purpose. The face you show to the world is the one you Want to, because as a near omnipotent cookie, you really do have the freedom to appear as anything. Even a snake, if you so wish. So…” he gently pulled his fingers through the shadowy locks of hair, “You can correct me if I’m wrong, is it that you prefer when people see you as a dangerous and all powerful other because it feels more accurate to how you see yourself?”

“Not really…” he said, “I mean, yeah, the magic has to be kind of big because I created a reputation about being a showman and my biggest talents are all in creativity and mental gymnastics. Cookies like it when I entertain, and most fools aren’t too upset about being swept away because I’m fun. It’s what I do, I make people happy.”

Pure Vanilla hummed. “Does it make You happy?”

Shadow Milk’s lifted his head. “I mean, yeah. I get to keep my old habit of seeking external validation, minus the whole “We don’t believe you so we hate you now and we wanna kill you.” Those people used to be scary, back when I was a Fount. Now they just look like stupid little bugs for me to squash.” He adjusted so his head was more comfortably rested in the curve of Pure Vanilla’s shoulder. “I never thought I’d admit any of that. But you’re holding yourself under a guillotione right now so, I guess it’s not me that should be afraid.”

Pure Vanilla let those words sink in for a moment before he formulated a response. “I… appreciate that you told me this in spite of knowing I can’t forget it.”

“Pfft. I hope you don’t forget it. And don’t go latching onto the parts where I expressed a modicum of mortality. I am serious about the venom in my spit.”

“Haha.”

“?”

“Oh it’s nothing. Just—“ He snickered. “Considering our positions, it’s not long until I find out firsthand.”

Shadow Milk had to pushed himself up to stare at Pure Vanilla to make sure he was being serious. “After Everything I just told you, you chose to say that.” Thankfully, he didn’t disappear, returning to where he was before. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I.”

“Oh no, don’t think that way.” He rolled over so he and Shadow Milk were lying on their sides. “I’m actually quite good at it. You’ll forget all about those fears you have.”

“Shut it, I don’t need to know that.” Shadow Milk scowled. “But, if you insist… I’ll stay here tonight. I don’t really wanna get up right now, even I’m suffocating.”

Pure Vanilla wasn’t going to say anything, even if his thoughts were racing. His thoughts and his jam. As silence settled, he realized his dough was tingling everywhere they were almost pressed together. Namely, his stomach, which had been in contact with Shadow Milk the entire time he was venting his frustrations, now left colder without him. He wasn’t going to Think about this, not after everything Shadow Milk had said, but he knew it was definitely bound to come up again. At least he had time to mentally prepare.  The Master of Deceit wasn’t as versed in this cycle as him, and henceforth he would have to display monumental patience when the pendulum swung back. That’s okay. I’ve dealt with worse. 

…

Okay. Maybe I haven’t yet. But everyday is a learning opportunity.