Work Text:
Shadow Milks eyes burn by the mere sight of the cooki- no deity in front of him so blinding he felt like he's staring directly to the sun yet he cannot look away. The cookie before him burn everything away with his gentle light. Coaxing the sky to become a burning white from it's everlasting night, invading the darkest corners of the spire, most importantly making it's way to this beast heart and burning it with it's intensity.
"You don't need to carry this pain."
The mere visage of newly reborn holder of soul jam is enough to make his own body a stranger. The light Pure Vanilla brings forth invade his remaining eye, spreading it's presence inside him from his cornea alone, burning his throat, stilling legs, silencing his mind, no part of him is spared by its invading kindness. Warmth to borderline burning spreading all over his body. None of it matter.
It doesn't matter if the spire is in the risk in collapsing due to the lack of dark moon magic nor does it matter if everyone in the proximity is shielding by the mere radiance of Pure Vanilla, with only him to be the one to actually have the ability to differentiate between the cookie and the light.
None of it matter.
Pure Vanilla walk slowly towards him with an emotion he won't figure out (understanding, acceptance, lo-) with a gentle smile so soft even the softest cotton would be ashamed of it's existence, with eyes so beautiful no jewel will ever compared. All of its gaze focused to Shadow Milk, unwavering no matter how much the beast glare at the sun in front of him.
"Shadow Milk Cookie"
His voice gentle yet so powerful, enough to make the spire itself betrays its master for the first time in ever. Its echoes was enough to dismantle every eye he had been generously given from the spire and Fount; the sky, the walls, the paintings, everything taken from him the moment Pure Vanilla shed his mortal form to change into something that warps the world into something kinder- brighter just by his existence alone.
Gone and discarded the dough and clothing Shadow Milk desperately convinced the healer to drown in. Where once the robes that were dyed in blue deceit of his sins has been burn and now remade by the light into robes that emits light itself, created by the world in its effort to capture the heart of the cookie wearing it.
Hair that previously only reached the ascended cookie shoulders has now reach the floor effortlessly, golden and look so impossibly soft. His eyes with the colors the same as his old self now contain something soft yet unbreakable. Every feature the healer has been amplified shouting to the world and it's inhabitants for the cookie blessed and chosen existence.
Only ethereal the closest word to describe about the cookie in front of him, but he knows no words in him that could be enough to describe the image before him.
Is this what Fount once was when he first descended to the world? Blinding and mighty, a beacon of promise from the witches for the ordinary cookies of the world, a sign they were favored by the witches who created them? Answering mortal prayers for their salvation from their anguish and foolishness. Only to forgot the chosen themselves also pray to the same hand that created them, leaving the virtues alone in their doubts with only silence as their answer and despair as their ending.
Is what Shadow Milk could've been if he had been made right? With the world highlights instead of erasing his presence, blessed instead damnation, seen with cheer and awe instead of disappointment and disgust.
Don't be foolish. In what world would that ever be granted?
"Shadow Milk," The healer spoke his name again with such reverence, such softness and strength, if he didn't know who is Pure Vanilla is calling for, he would've been fooled. Yet, with such gentle voice, a frown dared to be made in the face of the healer. A determine look is sculpted on Pure Vanilla face, yet his eye carried a hidden grieve, the words that fall from his mouth makes Shadow Milk smaller, weaker. "This needs to stopped."
Something inside him shattered by those words alone. He already anticipated this from the start, it was the reason he is brought after all. To help Pure Vanilla finally awake the power within him. Turning this worlds play of tragedy to a story of salvation for everyone. [give extra fount narration & extending the script is futile)
All of his remaining worth accumulated for this moment alone.
A grand finale of the hero's resolve showing everyone and everything the kindness and the salvation waiting for them in the end of this arc.
To defeat the beast of deceit in front of everyone in a climax that will put every watcher to applause and tears.
He only need to prod Pure Vanilla to shed this rotten skin and vanquish all the vermin that fester inside it.
Pure Vanilla with all his new gifted glory settled a hand to his chest, a plea escaped the healer mouth paired with eyes full of hope, "We could still be together.'
....
Even after everything he done?
....
Will Pure Vanilla truly forgive him? The actions he done to the healer, all are unforgivable than the last; insulting him, manipulate him, making him choose between two impossible choices, demanding Pure Vanilla cutting the relationships he held so dearly, abusing his love for his dearest guiding light that he discarded long ago to trapped him in the same darkness Shadow Milk sunk himself into. Molding Pure Vanilla into Truthless Recluse, a companion of his own image. A living mark of the beast desire and curse. A product of his suffocating love.
Pure Vanilla eyes still focus on him impossibly with more intensity than before. The warmthness that spread fastly becoming burning with each second past. What emotion is Pure Vanilla try to convey? Who is it truly for? Why is it burning him inside out? Where? When- How can he look at him with such a look?
As if he hung the moon stars itself?
It can't be for him. It can't.
It just a warped perspective his mind conjure for his pathetic heart. The image before him is a lie. Something his mind to made to stay in motion.
"When you and I finally together again from the republic you returned to my arms differently. So warped in anguish and guilt. I figured something change you so irreversibly, a knowledge so corrosive engulfing you to a flood of sorrow, I cant help but ask myself what happened," a tinge of pain could be felt as Pure Vanilla let those words out as if remembering the moment itself cracks the heart within him yet the healer did not falter.
"The answer for your change elude me until now. Why someone so benevolent could hate so intensely? To themselves nonetheless."
"Bitterness and grieve surround you like a mantle, tying your hands to hurt oneself to underserving degree"
"At first I waited patiently thinking surely if the world is kind to give me this precious companion to my side then absolutely they will bless me the time to understand them more"
"But the warmth you have given me impaired me from the world demands of us"
"For us to separate and act as if we are fated enemies forgetting the bond we share long ago."
"I was dormant through it all, done the unforgivable by letting you shatter in my presence, even more joining you in your descent amplifying it" shaking his head, voice full of disappointment, "The kindness you given me blinded me from your own pain, a coward I was. Scared of absence, for it has become the farewells for most of what I cherished." His march still continuing.
"The cookie you coax me to be, to change , to stand in the line of it all between selfish and selfless, to be kind and unrelenting , to have hope even in the darkest time." A small smile formed on Pure Vanilla, but guilt in his eyes as he open them was clear as glass.
"You save me by righting my wrongs, pulled me from the scorching fire that await me in path i walked before."
"So please let me return the favor."
"Shadow Milk reversing your faults might be too late for death is inevitable no matter what laws of forbidden magic declare but the path redemption is still open for all of us that are misguided."
"Please, let me save you too."
"We only need to change ourselves to become someone better than before"
"We can still come back to those days where you're right by my side"
"My guiding light. Please let me by your side"
----
The world stilled in that moment or perhaps the Shadow Milk stuck in stasis of his own making. All of his eyes wide to Pure Vanilla. Mind keep repeating two words. Guiding light and change. Fire smeared both of those the words like never before.
The reaction was instant.
He snarls as the word seeped to his dough. If only ripping his ears from his dough is possible he would. Even ripping his neck would do. But no, no indulgence until the ruined curtain of this arc over, for fulfillment of his remaining purpose is stood before him.
Something cracks with those words. Ripping the softness in the air into daggers choking his very throat.
Don’t you dare to fail your last saving grace. Even if you have to drown in this masked horror.
Every part of him is burning. His dough, his eyes, his mind. The warmthness become scorching heat, this is not warmth of a gentle embrace this is a purification by bathing in fire. A sudden verdict where the criminal held no autonomy.
Guiding light? Change?
What change? Shadow Milk already did changed and nothing good ever came out of it. Every attempt in changing himself is just another loop of him realizing his true self, a disgusting creature underneath. Every attempt of ripping of his dough for a chance to see any redeemable trait inside him every attempt of trying to show the world his existence is more than his revolting existence by ripping him self bare ended up futile. He did it so many times. His life as sinner is all he has. He can't see another path for him. He can't.
How could Pure Vanilla said that so easily?
How dare Pure Vanilla said those words easily as if Shadow Milk is a fool who didn't know any better?
How could he think the world was kind enough to grace them the same chances?
Anger boiled within him. The staff he was generously gifted held so tightly it might snapped under the pressure.
And that loving word. Guiding light.
He glance to the eye kept in the staff bitterly, The him that existed long ago, now sealed in a glass casing, preserve like all good things should be, protected. It stared at him back, observing him, judging him. It showed the truth Shadow Milk foolishly taught as a lie.
Even in passing your lingering presence you are is still loved.
Canines want to sink to the skin of the dead self. Not for hunger but out of jealousy for the sacrificial lamb that is more loved than the product of said sacrifice.
More loved then he'll ever be.
(He knows he incapable in doing it even if he became the manifestation of jealousy itself, for he too love the lamb, the one that given Shadow Milk a chance to live if he was made right)
It hurts.
His eye sting, burning by the tears daring to be shed.
Was all of it a deception?
The devotion? The actions? The promise?
Was it all a steeping stone for Pure Vanilla to reclaim the living corpse of his dearest love? Dispel and banish the one who posses it?
Their touches, embrace, was it all indulgence for Pure Vanilla? To cope from his dead love, willing to dance and submit to the murderer that wear the skin of the victim? Did he use deceit at himself to stand Shadow Milk presence? Masking Shadow Milk presence as phantom of his guiding light?
A part of him laugh hysterically out of emotions he didn't know, muddle so much with each other he couldn't differ any of them. So fast yet so slow every wave of emotion drains his body further to exhaustion.
A chorus of mock rings above his head.
Beast of Deceit yet fooled out of his own element, how ironic.
You think it's for you?!
It was all a facade in the end~
Pathetic thing that dare to think there was genuine love for something like you.
SHUT UP.
SHUT UP.
SHUT UP.
He held a hand to his chest gripping it.
It hurts.
It hurts to realize the crown of thorns worn his head was not made out of foolish love but a misplace one. An unrequited one.
HAHA. You thought he love you as you are don't you? How much foolishness could you put in that head of yours?
Who could ever love a murderer of the innocent?
The question burns his heart to dying embers.
Which memories they shared were made from the truth? Which ones made from deceit? Was it all? Was it none?
Did it any of it matter?
Of course no.
His mind already fractured after all.
There was no need for the truth if in the end all of it twist to something indescribable.
Ah and Pure Vanilla still look at him with those eyes, so full of misplaced affection.
A trap so sweet he would be willing to be caged just for another chance having the cookie loving affection.
Haha. Pathetic isn’t he?
Could only lean to a love he interfere and destroyed.
He focus his sight again to Pure Vanilla, noticing the closing of their distance slowly. Shall he make a shield to trap the healer in? He knows it won't last long, his affinity for magic is miniscule compared to the ancient except he can't help but want to retaliate for this wound, even the tiniest retaliation will do for this falsity.
Yet he can't even do that pathetic thing; His body refuse to; His mind denied to. Only his heart cried for retribution, even then it shrieks died so quickly as Pure Vanilla continue on his slow march. As if accepting it's unfair fate with each step.
But why? Why does meeting Pure Vanillas eyes makes every rising anger smothered into fading ambers before they could even burn a thing? Even when he pierce this beast heart with such cruel fantasy?
Pure Vanilla is cruel. He played with my feelings.
Because it's what you deserve. And did you truly think he could love the epitome of scum itself?
Pure Vanilla is selfish.
And you aren't? You deserve your heart shattered stepped on, ripped, played. For considering a thing like you deserve redemption instead retribution. Deserve to live instead of rot
This is what you deserves.
He held no rebuttal.
Is that truly his punishment?
For thinking Pure Vanilla want more than his dearest guiding light? To think the moon the healer preach was him? For thinking he could keep a love so sweet so fulfilling for himself?
For indulging on the thought he could steal the sun of the world without any consequences?
A broken laugh echoes in his mind, full of despair and agony.
His mind didn't know whether to join the cursed laughter in its ecstasy or chide them for their bad humor. Don't know what to make between a laughter and a snarl, something between the two formed on his face.
An disgusting smile when one is mocked but forced to participate in their own ridicule. A pathetic one.
It's sickening.
---
Pure Vanilla, who is only inches from touching his hand halted "Please we can do it together, whatever we have to face," Healing magic surround them both in abundant, closing the visible wounds fast and softly the only sound he could hear is the rotating halo behind the healer. "We could deal with it together."
Dead eyes could only look back to Pure Vanilla.
He is a fool and always will be.
Even when Pure Vanilla fall to same low as him, he would still be better than anything Shadow Milk is. The time Pure Vanilla shared with him by playing the role as Truthless Recluse—Embracing deceit just shows how different they are. Even when Pure Vanilla stain with sins he is still kind; still understanding, using deceit to comfort others, comfort him, utilizing it for the benefits of everyone. Unlike himself who used it to bait anyone to his jaws and be swallowed by his curse.
Look at you Shadow Milk. You become greedy and now Pure Vanilla has been pulled from your grasp by the world, put to a place you know you dare not touch. The same divine echelon as Fount.
Oh how he love and hate that pillar of divine. It was the only good thing the witches given Fount for his loyalty to them, the tiny acknowledgment from them that made Fount willingly shackled to the cookies underserving of him. The same pillar that symbolize Pure Vanilla worthiness and loneliness, the one that made both of them fell for the temptation of the cursed. Him.
Even when Pure Vanilla have to reject him, even when Pure Vanilla become the manifestation of everything Shadow Milk hates for the world.
He would still yearns for him.
The healer words so kind and sincere, one would have been fooled for it to be true, a new law of the world the healer will write and proclaimed for him just so they could be together again.
Could they truly be together again? Share a future together?
Hand intertwine with each other so simple but so cherished.
Pure Vanilla looking at him with the most cheerful smile no cookie could beat, still entertaining himself with his foolishness.
Him looking at Pure Vanilla with an amused smile, huffing from another ridiculous statement the healer said from that mouth of his.
Don't be ridiculous.
The laws of nature could not be changed.
A hound could not befriend a sheep.
No matter how both try. One will always fall.
Whether the bleeding sheep in the hound's maws or the starved hound bones beside the mourning sheep.
There is no compromise.
It was foolish from the start to have a shed of hope any of you will be together.
...
He griped the healers shoulders with all his might, making Pure Vanilla eyes open wide with shock. And push.
"Shadow Milk!"
The jester was gone before Pure Vanilla back hit the floor.
The space warps, in an instant only a cracked staff the only prove of his lingering existence.
---
Haha.
A sad hum filled the scenery. Here he was again in Milk river of rebirth leaning his back on a tree as exhaustion finally fill his body after his adrenaline wear off, sitting as he sees the surrounding. The trees and air are still, no sound or movement could be felt all around him as if the place giving him a time to be alone with only the sole exception of the flowing river sounds as his only companion.
It would take a while before anyone can found him, the spire still follows Fount and in extensions his demands after all.
He hold his hand, the one that briefly touch by Pure Vanilla with a stare that burns. Reminiscing the moment that just pass mere minutes ago, he can't help but repeating it. Pure Vanilla slight touch was enough to let him feel the cookie entire being; warmth, soft, accepting. It is everything his empty heart carves. A feeling he so desperately desires. If he didn't activate the portal he knows he wouldn't have the strength to flee. He was a moth that would've burn to ashes if he stayed near the sun which is Pure Vanilla any longer.
Caressing the touched hand to his cheek in an effort to seep the lingering warmth of the said hand, a sad smile appear on him. He knows his eyes are closed, yet the picture of him caressing his hand is so vivid. Finally letting the tears that been tightly hold in them released, his dough slowly turning damp with flowing of tears. Only for it existence become nonexistent as it touch the ground.
The flowers staining the ground where tears are supposed to be, a sad clone of Founts own bloom, far more fragile, weak, pathetic, more curved with its stems making it kiss the ground knowing no insect shall claim its pollen, it accepted it's pitiful fate similar to a criminal locked to a guillotine.
A fate that will be share by the one who created it.
.
.
.
Why a thing like him born?
Only exist to hurt and be hurt.
It's unfair.
Having such an pitiful existence such as he.