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Published:
2025-10-12
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2025-10-14
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2/2
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How Long has it Been?

Summary:

A tragedy has struck the Great Citadel of the Dark Cacao Kingdom. The King is left to grieve in his chambers, haunted by past memories as the image of his son cycles through his head. The thief that has stolen his joy is running free somewhere, but he is far too tired to feel angry anymore.

 
NEW CHAPTER—Weeping Prince

 

Fic is inspire by https://archiveofourown.info/works/72070016
By Acrillex
It’s basically the aftermath of chapter one. Credits for the plot go to them! I might make another one based around my comment focused around Dark Choco’s ghost. Maybe.

Notes:

I might make adjustments/changes to this, since I wrote this entire thing in 1-2 hours soooo.

This fic can’t be read on its own!! Read the parent fic attached to get an idea of what’s happening!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

How long has it been?

How long has it been since he responded to his son’s ‘I love you’s with his own?

How long has it been since he held his child in his arms?

How long has it been since his boy smiled at him?

He couldn’t answer any of those.

•———• •———• •———• •———• •———•

3 Days. That’s how long it has been. That’s how long it has been since the Prince was ripped away from his kingdom.

Dark Cacao sat in his room. On the ground. With his hair hanging down, forming a curtain around his face. His eyes puffy and red. His tears have long since run dry. His arms were deadweight, limp in his lap. His legs had fallen asleep a long time ago—He didn’t notice.

He hasn’t showered since that dreadful morning, where he saw the most horrific scene he could have ever imagined.
He’s lost weight. Platters of untouched and now-cold food sat next to the door leading into his quarters. The servants have been too scared to actually enter, only knocking a couple times before scurrying off to be anywhere else.

Choco Bark and Affogato tried to check on him but the mighty king never answered. He didn’t even realize they were there in the first place. His mind was somehow empty and flooded with thoughts at the same time.

How could he have let this happen?

•———• •———• •———• •———• •———•

“Appa, please. Can I sleep with you tonight? There’s something in my room and I-I—“

“Dark Choco Cookie,” The king had cut him off with a stern look on his face as he finally tore his eyes off of the documents in front of him to look at the offending voice. “There is nothing in your room. We have went over this how many times? Quit making things up for whatever childish reason you came up with. I am sick of dealing with this nonsense.”

Harsh. But necessary. Dark Choco Cookie needs to learn he won’t get anywhere with that silly imagination of his.

The king looked back down at the graphs in front of him. If only he knew that would be one of the last times he’d see his son

Dark Choco had gone quiet, trying desperately not to let anymore tears spill out (How he wished he could wipe those away) if his hiccups were of any indication.

“…Yes, father…. I’m sorry for disturbing you..”

With a bow to his father, Dark Choco Cookie was escorted out by the maid that lead him to the king’s office.

…

…

…

Why?

Why did he let this happen? His son cried to him practically every night for 3 weeks, claiming there was a monster following him.

But Dark Cacao wasn’t having any of it. He brushed his child’s worry off with an annoyed sigh and a pointed finger. The last few moments he spent with his Choco was filled with images of the prince sobbing. Dark eye bags—darker than his own—sat under his beautiful ruby-colored eyes, weighing them down like they carried the weight of the world.

Dark Cacao was sure Dark Choco was just having a wild imagination. After all, there couldn’t be a monster in the citadel. They had watchers lining every point, sharp eyes scanning the wilderness below guaranteeing safety for everyone within the chocolate walls.

He never even considered the possibility… that maybe… just maybe… the monster stalking his Ruby like prey was hiding inside the walls made to defend.

 

The image of his son, his baby boy, lying on the cold hard ground, flashed every time he dared to blink.

He was just about to head out to start his own training for the day when Affogato, along with a shaman, burst into his room. The only thing that stopped him from reprimanding them for coming in without knocking was the looks of horror their faces held.

The shaman had been crying too hard to actually say anything, but Affogato was luckily able to fill him in briefly.

The Prince.

A tragedy.

Follow us.

That is all he said before leading him down the halls at a quick—but proper—pace.

Dark Cacao had a frown on his face. What has Dark Choco done now? Something in his gut said that something terrible happened… but his head told him it was just Choco being dramatic once more.

How wrong he had been.

So

Very

Wrong.

The three of them entered the corridor that homed the Prince’s quarters, his pace slowing down as he took in the chaos that was unfolding… right in front of the open door of the Prince’s room.

There was a maid, Caramel Truffle Cookie, sitting on the ground against a wall, hyperventilating and practically screaming out sobs, ripping at her hair in stress (Was that red on her shoes?). Two other servants flanked both sides of her; also crying but not nearly as much as Caramel Truffle, while simultaneously making an effort to try and calm her down.

What could have possibly happened?

He saw 3rd watcher Crunchy Tart Cookie leaving Dark Choco Cookie’s room with a look of pure terror on his face.

There were lots of other cookies crowding the hallway by now. Some were crying, some were shouting profanities and demanding answers, there were some begging to go see their kids at home, and others were trying to establish peace over the situation.

That pit of dread that he brushed off earlier was tearing at his stomach now.

The crowd slowly began to clear a path for the King. No one would return his gaze as he walked past them. What has happened to cause such a reaction?

That question was almost immediately answered as his eyes flicked down to the red on the stone floors of Choco’s room. Strange. There were very little points of red in the Citadel.

His mind didn’t fully comprehend what was in front of him, not until his slit pupils followed the crimson line to its source; His son’s crumbled body.

It took him a moment.

His boots stopped. He could still hear the sobbing of Caramel Truffle Cookie and the cries of the others, but it was all quickly fading into static as he fully registered what he was looking at.

Then,

He let out a noise he never thought he could make. It was a mix between a strangled-sob and a scream.

He cradled his son’s little head (When did he get there?), breathing heavily as he took in the sight. Then red has stopped flowing a while ago from the looks of it. He couldn’t tell if he’d have preferred that over it actively sputtering out.

The source of the river was coming from a slash in his boy’s throat. He hated how all of his survival knowledge let him know the cut was too shallow for an instant, painless death. He hated how his Ruby’s closed eyes hinted at an acceptance of his fate in his final moments.

He hated how his Choco’s eyes were puffy from weeping.

He couldn’t hear anything anymore. Who had done this? What monster…

Monster…

Dark Choco Cookie has been crying about a monster.

How has no one but his baby been able to sense it?

The king held his son’s tiny hand in his much larger one. It was cold. Colder than snow. The only thing that would beat its temperature is his killer’s heart.

Whoever did this, he vowed to plunge his sword into their throat and watch as their life bled away with every drop of jam.

The vile snake who stole his Ruby’s smile from his future will pay.

He’ll make sure of it.

•———• •———• •———• •———• •———•

The stoic king shed enough tears to fill a river. His wails of anger were loud enough to shake the nearby Kingdoms. The silence of his grieving process allowed every breath to echo along the dark walls.

The Mighty King.

Not so Mighty anymore.

Chapter 2: Weeping Prince

Summary:

Set before the first chapter, we see The Prince’s POV as his ghost tries to claw his way back into jis father’s good graces.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Night has fallen over the Dark Cacao Kingdom, not a singular star twinkling in the sky.

The moon had gone dark too, leaving everything in complete darkness.

 

The Citadel halls were as quiet as can be for the first couple hours of the night. First, the cooks retired for the night, all the food they had prepared being served earlier. Next, it was the maids after tidying up all that was left out of place. Then, the shamans, finishing up their blessings and blowing out the candles. Lastly, The King had finally set down his pen and headed back to his quarters to restore his energy for the next day.

 

The watchers were doing their rounds out on the Chocolate Wall, nothing escaping their eyes as they gazed down at the snowy wilderness below. The thumping of their boots quiet as to not disturb those resting.

 

Only two lied awake by this hour; the cat and the mouse. Only one of them would be able to sleep tonight, while the other is to lie awake for the rest of eternity.

 

•———• •———• •———• •———• •———•

 

Soft hiccups echo throughout the corridor.

 

Prince Dark Choco Cookie was still awake. It was far past his bedtime—Father will be angry—the sun was starting to peak out of its hiding place behind the mountains.

 

The Prince was clawing at his floors trying to get the dark color out of his stone floor.

 

Father will be angry.

 

He frantically wiped his tears away with the cuff of his sleeve and returned to scrubbing with his hands.

 

It would’ve been quicker with cleaning supplies, the ones that the maids use, but Dark Choco didn’t know where they were located; he wasn’t allowed near them, anyway. He’d just be breaking another rule—he didn’t have time to search for them, either. Father will never forgive him at this rate.

 

(Father. He hated that title. He preferred saying ‘appa’, but father said he was too old to call him that anymore. So father it was.)

 

Dark Choco Cookie could barely see with how hard he was crying now. How pathetic and unbecoming of a Prince. He was almost 7 years old, and he was crying over a broken rule? Father will be disappointed.

 

No matter how hard he tried, the puddle of color refused to leave. He tried using his sleeves, but that didn’t work. Now, he was just using his nails.

 

It hurt. It really really hurt—the feeling of polished stones bending his fingernails back—but he doesn’t want to make father more upset with him than he already has with his childish complaints.

 

He was scared. He wanted to run to his father and tell him what Affogato did to him (Would he even believe his story?) but he first had to fix the mess he had made.

 

Father said he needs to learn how to take responsibility, that fear will only drag you down and he had to put his resolution before all. Including petty emotions.

 

Once he cleans the puddle of jam, he can go and tell father what happened. He doesn’t know why he’s still here, he could still see his bleeding form a foot across from him (a fact he is desperately trying to avoid thinking about).

 

He knew what Affogato had done to him. He could still feel the blade against his throat as it cut through the soft dough like butter.

What had he done to deserve this? How did he get in Affogato’s way? He thought Affogato liked him, so why did he do this to him?

 

Dark Choco cookie would claw at his floor and carpet for another hour and a half. His fingers doing nothing to the now half-dry jam.

 

His body would get colder and colder as the seconds ticked by. His little eyes would sink into their sockets as his joints stiffened. His body stopped producing jam a while ago. The chocolatey smell of his dough was starting to heighten, as well. He didn’t want to know how long it’d take for his body to start smelling like mold.

 

The tears kept falling.

 

•———• •———• •———• •———• •———•

 

It was her turn to wake the Prince up this morning. She was well-aware of his Highness’s recent sleeping problems—she has been one of the sole witnesses of it for a while now—so she half-expected him to be up, already.

 

She felt bad for the boy. Her daughter had sleeping problems, too (Still does, on the occasion). She had plenty of experience with night terrors and monster-checking, but the Prince’s case seemed different.

 

It was understandable for a child to be scared at night, every child goes through a phase like that. But this one seemed different…

 

The Prince would cry throughout the day, jumping at any sound. That wasn’t normal to Caramel Truffle. A child should never be that scared in his own home.

 

And those eye bags… he looked half-dead. Did his Majesty not see those? Even if the Prince was doing it for attention (she doubted it), that was clearly a problem on its own.

 

At this rate, his Highness will be gray-headed by his 7th birthday.

 

Well, she can’t really do anything, can she? Just help his Highness when she can and do her job. She patted the pocket that held the pictures of her husband and daughter back at home and smiled fondly.

 

Now, time to get the Prince ready for breakfast.

 

•———• •———• •———• •———• •———•

 

Caramel Truffle’s shriek of terror echoes along the entire floor, sending staff running to her direction half-dressed and tripping over their own feet.

 

The maid almost falls as she stumbles away from the open-door of the Prince’s chambers. Her back hits the wall, allowing her to drag herself down to the floor.

 

She was covering her mouth with one hand, tears making her eyes bloodshot red as her other one fumbled for her pocket.

 

A few servants dropped next to her, asking what was wrong and trying to calm her down. She grips a locket in her hand now, the one with a heart carved into it. With that shaking hand, she points to the Prince’s room.

 

The door was still wide open. The smell of chocolate and something else wafting out.

 

•———• •———• •———• •———• •———•

 

<3

Notes:

I don’t really have anything to say about this. I wanted to make another chapter where Affogato gets caught (around the time where the COD come to the Citadel in canon) and gets properly punished, but I don’t have any ideas for that, so I’ll leave it to your imagination <3

Notes:

First fic! Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!

I couldn’t fit it in here, but I imagine Choco only started smiling in his portraits when he reached his teenage years, bc he wanted to be a light for the ones his father neglected. So, all paintings of Choco currently are him with a straight face. Dark Cacao will quite literally never see his Ruby’s smile again.