#Shmilk

[wusnus]

beautiful princess and his loser soulmate

[demoactive]

i did not just use my shroomies on shadow milk only for the game to not register and him to not transform. TWICE.

[pukinghoneyspoonfull]

That one theory

[pukefactory]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ DELIGHTFUL DOWNPOUR ☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

⏾⋆ Summary: Shadow Milk Cookie Tends To Your Wounds

⏾⋆ Character(s): Shadow Milk Cookie (Cookie Run)

⏾⋆ Genre: Headcannons, SFW

⏾⋆ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

⏾⋆ Image Credits: @pink-sugar & @sisterlucifergraphics

✶ “Ohhh, what’s this? A surprise performance? And I didn’t even hand you a script!” Shadow Milk Cookie’s voice laces the air like silk, but his hands tremble as they hover over your wounds. The stage was his to control, the players his to manipulate—but you? You had thrown yourself into the fray, unbidden, unscripted, unpredictable. He should be livid. Instead, he kneels beside you, a rare silence stretching between you both.

✶ For all his flamboyant showmanship, Shadow Milk Cookie’s touch is careful as he winds bandages around your wounds. He hums a tune under his breath, something eerily soft, yet the sharp glint in his mismatched eyes remains. “Ohhh, what a mess you’ve made! Ruining my perfect, perfect stage like this!” he chides, voice lilting with exaggerated disappointment. And yet, despite the theatrics, his hands do not waver.

✶ Shadow Milk Cookie thrives in illusion, in making others doubt their own senses, but he cannot lie to himself about this. He felt it—true fear. The moment you shielded him, the moment you crumpled to the ground, the moment your blood stained his harlequin attire… he had lost control. And oh, how he despised that feeling.

✶ “You’re hogging all the attention, y’know,” he pouts, tying off the last bandage with a dramatic flourish. “And here I thought I was the star!” His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s a tightness to it—something rehearsed, forced. The truth is, the mere idea of you fading from the scene unnerves him. What fun would the show be without its most intriguing audience member?

✶ Every time you wince, his grip on his staff tightens. Every time your breath hitches, the eyes hidden in his hair flicker erratically. But instead of acknowledging his concern, he laughs. Loud, sharp, grating. “My my my, such a tragic little protagonist we have here!” He claps his hands together. “Such devotion! Such foolhardy bravery! But tell me, dear, was it worth it?” He expects you to falter. Instead, you meet his gaze with steady resolve. “Yes,” you say. And for once, he has no clever retort.

✶ For all his love of deception, he hates the sight of you like this—broken, battered, bleeding. A pawn in a game he didn’t realize had begun. And worse? You’d played your part for him. Shadow Milk Cookie is no stranger to sacrifice, but yours unsettles him. Why? Why would you do this? For him? No, no, no. That’s not how the script is supposed to go.

✶ His fingers brush against your cheek, an absent-minded gesture—one he doesn’t even realize he’s doing. For a fleeting moment, the mischief in his gaze dims. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Absolutely absurd.” And yet, his hands linger, gripping yours with an intensity that betrays his usual nonchalance.

✶ The ones who harmed you? Oh, they will regret it. Shadow Milk Cookie is not the type to seek vengeance for others. He would sooner laugh at their misfortune than shed a tear. But for you? For you, he will rewrite the entire performance. And in this act, the antagonists will not make it to the final bow.

✶ “I’d say you owe me for this, but honestly?” He sighs, dramatically draping himself beside you. “I think I’m the one in debt here. How scandalous!” His grin is all teeth, all bravado, but his fingers curl slightly at his sides. He wants to tell you it was foolish, reckless, idiotic. But instead, he simply murmurs, “Don’t do it again.”

✶ Shadow Milk Cookie spins tales, crafts illusions, blurs the lines between reality and fiction with a flick of his wrist. But this? This moment, this raw, aching truth between you both—he cannot twist it. You, lying there, injured but alive. Him, at your side, guarding you with an intensity that terrifies even himself. “The show must go on,” he says softly, almost to himself. But for the first time in his existence, he does not want this act to end.

[odileeclipse]

Hey...did you get my idea of shadow milk with, in a way, animal lover reader where shadow milk turns into a sheep and that's how they introduce themselves to reader in a way?

Sorry, just I know tumblr likes to eat asks sometimes!

The Sheep in the Shadows

(Hey Anon I actually did not I think tumblr ate up your ask so I'm glad you requested again...I had no idea that happened TwT so if your request isn't answered this is the potential reason)

The night air was cool, the moon casting a silver glow over the quiet meadow. Crickets chirped softly, their rhythmic melody blending with the rustling of leaves. You were out later than usual, having stopped to check on a few stray critters near the edge of the forest. It wasn’t uncommon for lost or injured animals to wander close to your little home, and you had a soft spot for every single one. Tonight, however, was different. A lone sheep stood just beyond the tree line, its wool a dark, shadowy blue that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. Most unusual were its eyes—one cyan with a black slit pupil, the other a deeper cerulean with a stark white slit. It stared at you, unblinking, with an expression almost too knowing for an ordinary animal.

You hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, concern outweighing your wariness. “Oh, you poor thing… are you lost?” The sheep blinked, tilting its head slightly, almost as if amused by your words. You crouched down, extending a gentle hand. The sheep made no move to flee, merely watching you with an eerie sort of patience. That only worried you more usually, lost animals were skittish. This one… seemed almost entertained. Still, you couldn’t leave it out here. “You must be hungry. Come on, let’s get you home.” The sheep let out a soft, almost breathy laugh…wait, a laugh? before stepping forward, allowing you to guide it back to your cozy little dwelling. 

The wool was softer than you expected. Running a brush through it was almost hypnotic, the silky strands parting easily under your touch. “You’re really well-groomed for a stray,” you mused aloud, mostly to yourself. “I wonder if you belonged to someone.” The sheep merely blinked at you, head resting lazily on its front hooves. It had settled comfortably onto a pile of blankets you’d set out, looking far too pleased with itself. You smiled, rubbing your cheek against its fluffy coat. “You’re so cute… I could just keep you forever.” A deep, delighted hum rumbled from the sheep’s throat. You paid it no mind, thinking it was just a particularly content little thing. Until the wool beneath your fingers shifted. You barely had time to react before the warmth in your arms melted away into something taller, leaner, Cookie. The fluffy coat vanished, replaced by dark, mismatched fabrics and curling coattails lined with unblinking eyes. Clawed hands rested lightly against your shoulders, and a sapphire-toothed grin stretched across the face of a very, very familiar figure. “Oh, my dear caretaker,” Shadow Milk Cookie purred, his voice a smooth, teasing lilt. “You truly are as kind as they say. Would you still hold me so sweetly if I wasn’t so... fluffy?” Your breath caught in your throat. You were still half-curled against him, your hands gripping the lapels of his harlequin-styled coat where soft wool had been mere moments ago. Your mind struggled to catch up, but the mischievous glint in his mismatched eyes told you everything you needed to know.

This wasn’t just some lost sheep. It never was. He had played you. “W-What?!” You scrambled backward, face burning as you put some much-needed distance between you. “You-You were-What just-?!” Shadow Milk laughed, rolling his shoulders as if shedding the last remnants of his disguise. “Apologies for the little deception,” he drawled, though the smirk curling his lips suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. “But how could I resist? You were so sweet, so trusting, welcoming a little lost creature into your arms so readily…” His grin widened, sharp and teasing. “I simply had to see for myself.” Your heart pounded in your chest, a mix of lingering warmth and rising mortification. “You tricked me!” “Tricked?” He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “I merely embraced an opportunity. And really, can you blame me? You did say you could keep me forever.” His voice dipped lower, more velvety. “Were you lying, little caretaker?” Your face burned. This was ridiculous. One moment, you were cuddling a fluffy sheep, and the next, you were being teased by a theatrical trickster with too-sharp teeth and too-smooth words. Shadow Milk chuckled, watching the way your emotions flickered across your face like a shifting stage play. He lived for this, the way confusion, flustered frustration, and reluctant intrigue danced together so beautifully. “Don’t look so cross,” he hummed, resting his chin in his palm. “I rather enjoyed your company. Will you shoo me away now that you know the truth?” You hesitated, lips parting, but no words came. Would you? He had deceived you, yes, but… he hadn’t hurt you. And, if you were being honest with yourself, the warmth of his presence still lingered, despite the shocking reveal. Shadow Milk watched your silence with keen interest, his grin curling at the edges. “Ohh, I see it now,” he murmured, voice dropping to a whispery croon. “You liked having me close, didn’t you?” You almost threw the nearest pillow at him. Instead, you crossed your arms, trying to gather the shreds of your composure. “I’m not keeping you.” “A shame,” he sighed, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. “I quite liked being your little lost sheep.” Something told you this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

(btw guys this might be the last request of the day that I post I have to proofread other ones and I have to write some of them I'm getting through my requests slowly please be patient <3)

[thepasteman]

Happy Valentine day 😼💘

[sera2512]

crk doodles that i forgor to post lololol XD

[umbrella-show]

🎭 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐞 : Pt.2

Umm I hope this is good 😭 This is a continuation of Part 1 Taglist: @kurayami-creations, @lovley-valentine7, @dazedemery, @mspurpl3

You let out a strained sigh and collapsed on the clean white marble stairs. Panting heavily, you looked up at the rest of the stairs. You were almost at the top. You had to keep going. There had to be a way out of this spire. 

After the betrayal of Apple faerie cookie, you had suddenly awoke at the bottom of the Spire with no sense of time. The sight of the seemingly endless staircase startled you. You couldn’t even see the top. There were windows in the spire you had passed by, but outside was only a void of blue stars. The sight would have been beautiful if it weren’t for the blue eyes that watched you from outside of the tower. You swore you could occasionally hear giggling and laughing outside of the spire, but you knew you weren’t in the right state of mind as you continued to infinitely climb up. You had been walking up the stairs for what felt like hours. It was the only thing you could really do. You prayed there was an exit up there. 

You used the last remaining strength you had to continue to climb, staring at the top of the tower. It was so close. Just a dozen more steps. 

“Ooooh~ Well lookie here!”

You froze at the voice, your legs shaking in exhaustion as they could barely hold your body up. You flinched harshly at the sight of a giant blue eye with a vertical slit pupil peeking in at you through the open window next to you, giving it a direct view of your startled form. You stared at the eye like a deer in headlights. Shadow Milk cookie.

“What a determined little cookie! You really climbed all of those stairs, huh? You must be soooo tired~”

You struggled to stay standing as your legs begged for a break. You could only narrow your eyes and weakly glare at the giant one. The eye crinkled in amusement at the sight of your weary state.

“Hm. You still got some fight in you? How entertaining! You are always so fun to mess with, you know?”

Shadow Milk cookie’s giggled echoed throughout the spire, bouncing off the wall and filling your head. You shrieked as you felt the stairs beneath you shift.

“You know, a change of scenery would be much nicer. Just relax and enjoy the ride!”

A scream ripped from your throat as the stairs turned into smooth marble and you slid down to the bottom of the tower at incredible speed. The echoed laugh barely reached your ears as your own screams overpowered the noise. You could only helplessly stare with wide eyes as you were suddenly plunged into darkness and the floor beneath you disappeared. You shut your eyes tight and curled in on yourself in a fetal position, barely able to catch your breath as you fell deeper and deeper into the darkness. You didn’t know what was happening around you. All you knew was that you were falling.

It was only when you felt your back lightly touch the solid surface of the ground was when you opened your eyes. You were in a large, open space. Blue checkered titles shimmered, untouched by filth. On the walls hung familiar pictured frames and candles that dimly lit the room. A golden chandelier hung from a rounded ceiling in the middle of the room. Was this.. A ballroom of sorts?

This felt so undeniably wrong. You’ve been to multiple balls and gatherings hosted in the palace of the Hollyberry kingdom. The sight of an empty ballroom, devoid of cookie dancing and gossip, was disturbing. The feeling of being alone in such a space, supposed to be populated by cookies, sent a chill down your spine.

The floor squeaked as you stepped atop the unstained decorative floors. Wearily, you looked around for any sort of exit. You found none. There were no doors to grant your exit, nor were there any windows you could potentially leave from. You were practically trapped in a room with no way out.

“Oh? Are you thinking about leaving? So soon?”

You flinched, your breath catching in your throat. You whipped your head back to see the Beast cookie, levitating inches off the ground. Clicking his tongue, he taunted you with his familiar vivacious voice that echoed throughout the empty room. 

“I wouldn't fill my head with such notions. You can’t leave.” 

A playful laugh came from him as he inched closer. You took a step back in return. His smile visibly widened at your unnerved expression and he only continued to float closer. His eyes averted to observe the empty room, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

“Lovely, ain’t it? Especially the pictures~ Say, ballrooms are meant for dancing, aren’t they?”

His sudden disappearance into the shadows caused you to tense and frantically glance around for any sign of him. Shadows shifted and slinked into the darkest shadows in the corners of the room.

A shriek came from you as thin blue strings suddenly wrapped around your arms and legs. Barely even granted the chance to compose yourself, hands planted themselves firmly on your shoulders and forcibly spun you the other way. You lost your footing as you were forced to turn and you braced yourself for when you would hit the ground. Yet, a hand suddenly grabbed one of yours and the strings around your body tightened to position you into a graceful pose. You shakily exhaled, unable to comprehend what had just happened in a matter of seconds. Your eyes could only helplessly avert to Shadow Milk cookie, grasping one of your hands tightly. 

“Then, why don't we dance!”

He didn’t ask, he demanded, as he pulled you back into an upright position and forcefully guided you. The strings around your body aided in his favor, making you follow his lead and unwillingly dance with the cookie you utterly feared. Music began to play from somewhere in the background, a soft and elegant tune completely contrasting the horror you felt in this situation. 

The dance was a mix of ballroom dancing, but with a twist. Shadow Milk cookie added his own spin on the moves. A little bit of ballet was added on his part as gracefully twirled in your arms, forcing you to hold his hand above his head. He compelled you to lead his fluid spins and gracious steps, while he took on the role of the follower and submitted to your control.

Yet, he was the one who controlled when you spun him, where you stepped, how you danced. When you tried to shift in an unscripted direction, when you tried to fight his control, the strings painfully tightened. You could only helplessly look into his eyes and watch as his mouth grew into a smirk as you let your body comply to his puppeteer strings.

As the music continued to the final verse, the dance sped up a couple of beats. Shadow Milk cookie made sure to add extra flair to his twirls and steps, grandly posing and drawing nearer to you. Performing one more elegant spin, he suddenly tipped backwards. You supported him by planting a hand on his back while the other held his leg against your side, and leaning forwards. You were left breathing shakily, when the music ceased. 

Trapped in that pose, you looked down to meet his narrowed eyes. He seemed thoroughly entertained by the whole ordeal. You two wordlessly stared at each other for a few more seconds, before the sound of echoed clapping caught your attention. 

Looking over to your right, you could immediately recognize Apple Faerie cookie- no, who you once thought was Apple Faerie cookie. Candy Apple cookie beamed at you and Shadow Milk cookie, bouncing on her heels as she was unable to sit still. The clapping came from a different cookie, one who wore a fancy black suit. In his hands was a tall black staff, and his deep black eyes looked in amusement at both you and Shadow Milk cookie.

When you realized you had been freed from the constricting puppeteer strings, Shadow Milk cookie suddenly vanished from your arms. You were left dumbfounded as you stared into your open arms. You were suddenly tackled, arm wrapping around your waist. Looking over you saw Candy apple cookie hugging your side. 

“EEE! Y/N cookie! I told you! You fit in so well here!”

To your right was the cookie you were unfamiliar with. With a straightened posture, he gave a small bow to you when your eyes met.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, our newest actor.”

Your brain struggled to decipher what was happening. One minute you had been climbing a tower, the next you had been forced to dance, and now you had Candy Apple cookie practically attached to you in a one-sided embrace with another cookie addressing you as ‘their newest actor.’ 

Shadow Milk cookie suddenly reappeared by your side, levitating and tilting his head at an unnatural angle, grinning at your disturbed expression. His eyes surveyed your tense posture that only stiffened at his gaze, and a playful hum came from him.

“Now, why don’t we get you ready, for your role in this next act of Truth and Deceit is very important!~” 

[solinina]

[ Please get off, I need to work at the shop.]

[How about no?~♡♡♡]

+stuff

They made a compromise.

I HAD AN IDEA WITH THE CAKE SHOP EVENT….

[cambuznabrigantine]

[randomrory69]

Hey guys here's some new crk fana- AAWOOP HAIRY OLD DILF JUMPSCARE RAHAHHAHAHH!!!!!1

dawg i do NOT know how to draw buff males so pls forgive my anatomy. anyways yeah shadow twink is wearing face paint and stage makeup cuz IT'S MY AU SHUTUPPAP‼️‼️‼️‼️ and yeah I forgot to draw burping lice cookie's shoulder pauldron things sorry

and it's kinda silly how I'll post the most agonizingly horrifying, excruciatingly depressing ventposts and then post some unserious goofy ahh shit like this next

[harmorii]

humanized shmilk to try some new brushes

[arphalen]

shmilk

shmilk is such a silly nickname

[cheesymellow]

EP 8 IS NEAR.. SO UHM HERES MY POORLY EXPLAINED PREDICTIONS & THEORIES!!

(Disclaimer: Forgive me if i make no sense i cant explain 💩).

Okay uh starting with the lastest teaser as of posting this: (i love the animation oh ma goodness)

Shadow milk here seems to be sad, maybe even pitiful. Staring at truthless.. Seeing himself in him before immediently smiling back to his usual silly self. which is out of character for him (at least for me). Also a quick second him having pv’s eyes which makes me feel like theres a reason shadow milk went through all this trouble to make pv exactly like him.

He wants someone who feels exactly how he feels. All his trauma and pain. Someone that understands him. And pure vanilla was the best canidate to do so. The pain/trauma of his corruption or smth

How did he corrupt? Well heres what i thinkkk

Going all the way back to the prolouge of crk. We know Pv used dark moon magic in order to seal dark enchantress. Successfully, but with a cost—His memories

But he slowly got his memories back ONCE DE was released. Basically, using Dark moon magic comes with a cost depending on what you do and if the spell deactivates or breaks, you get a refund!!! thats the best i could explain it

(as for white lily, i actually dont remember but i think she used it when freeing dark enchantress. then the price she paid was merging with dark enchantress?..)

NOWWW moving on to smilk.. We know he lives in the dark side of the moon where the magic is held/resides?? (uh i think). So i think its possible for him to be the creator ORR the first one to wield/sacrifice something for it

I rlly love the theory where smilk possibly corrupted last by all his friends. So id like to imagine its either that He thought learning dark moon magic was the only way to save his friends (the beasts). OR was obessed with finding more knowledge to share with cookies or smth. But in return for full control of dark moon magic, He sacrificed his sanity, the more he used it, the more insane he got and then he started the question stuff like.. “What is the purpose of this?”, “Whats the point of guiding them all?”, etc etc like that.. basically questioning his own existence! Then eventually snapped realizing his whole LIFE is a lie, Being chosen by the witches and thinking he chosen his life but in reality he didnt at all is what makes him crack. Then since his life is a lie why even bother sharing knowledge now? so he starts lying because its FUN!

now moving on to PV.. He was questioning his own existence and life choices.. becoming truthless recluse after realizing theres no point in sharing the truth because the “truth” shattered him, making him believe his whole life is a lie aswell. so sharing lies would be better right?? execpt its not for fun or smth. Not the same but PRETTY SIMILARR.. basically like smilk is just projecting his thingy to pv so someone can finally understand him

and pv surely will. NOW BRINGING UP ONE OF MY PREVIOUS POSTS

Truthless has key, Pre-corruption smilk has keyhole

you get where im going with this??? Pv will be the one to understand and help smilk and maybe even break the dark moon price. But first he will either relive shadow milk’s memories. Or his own memories and realize the truth.

Anyways moving to how pure vanilla would awaken..

Before in an old post (link at the end) ive had this theory before that pure vanilla was split into TWO when changing into truthless, Those split halfs being:

Pv A: The pv we all know and love :D

Pv B: The self doubt, hatred and etc

I believe the way for him to Awaken is the first understand shadow milk, Then accept the cruel truth by facing his self doubt and hatred (truthless) and merging with the other him (pure vanilla) becoming the real him (the holder of true truth or something i dont know what he would be called) (I cant explain this well im so sorry)

and also. there is a small chance a SHADOW MILK REDEMPTION MIGHT HAPPEN but i have my doubts

Okay first the very small proof that i think it WILL happen

OH MAH GOSH MY EYES HES THE BLINDING TRUTH-

“If i could win, you will too” THIS CONFUSED ME AT FIRST UNTIL I REALIZED “WAIT.. IS HE TALKING TO SMILK?” WE KNOW HOW KIND PV IS SO HE’D DEFINETLEY TRY TO REDEEM HIM AFTER UNDERSTANDING WHY SHADOW MILK DID THOSE THINGS TO HIM RIGHT???

But on the other hand im not sure if smilk has any purity left in him 🤔

Mainly bcuz we know remaining purest parts of the beast’s souljam were taken to create the Ancient’s souljam, Leaving the beasts with no purity left right??

BUTTT as i said earlier, Remember dark moon magic and i said it could possibily be refunded?? Pure vanilla COULDD probably be able to reverse the price shadow milk’s paid? if he does then they’d be besties for sur-

“ hey heyy wait.. WHAT ABT THE BEAST SEALING RITUAL!?!?!.. THE REASON THEY ALL CAME IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?”

ah i believe its a lie. Again from an old post, i have someeee proof that its fake based on capple’s and smilks interaction

WE KNOW THAT PV AND OTHERS IMMEDIENTLY WENT TO THE SPIRE SHORTLY AFTER BEAST YEAST EP 2. SO THE ONLY POSSIBLE WAY THEY COULDVE GOTTEN INFO ABT THE “BEAST SEALING RITUAL” IS FROM THE LIBRARY. WHICH IS MOST LIKELY THE LIE CAPPLE PUT TO TRICK THEM ALLLL-

thats all my brain has for noww! theres probably better explanations out there but, reblogs r appreciated!

Link to my split pv theory w/other theories innit

[indigo-flowers09]

“Liar, Liar…”

(pls reblog heart emoji)

15 hours of work youd think id have something cool and dramatic to write on this post this is all i could come up with

@lawlietisms

[odileeclipse]

A Wager of Fate PT 8 Final part

The Silver Tree, once a pillar of luminous divinity, shuddered against its broken chains, its glow dimming with each passing moment. The air carried the scent of old magic, of something ancient unraveling. The Silver Knights stood at a distance, their figures rigid with hesitation, with sorrow. White Lily Cookie lingered among them, hands clasped tight around her staff, her fuchsia eyes dim with grief. And in the heart of it all Elder Faerie Cookie. His presence, once unwavering as the roots of the Silver Tree itself, was now weighed down by something heavier than time. He stood apart from the others, just as you had asked. Alone with you. Shadow Milk Cookie lingered just at the edges of your perception, watching, waiting. You could feel his gaze—expectant, patient in his own way, but still unwilling to slip too far from your side. He had already won, hadn’t he? What more was there for him to do but gloat? You turned slightly, gripping your arms. "Just… leave me alone with Elder Faerie for a bit." Your voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a tremor in it. There was a pause, a hum of amusement. "Alone?" Shadow Milk mused, tilting his head, unseen but there in the shifting light. "Ah, my dear, what a lonely request. After all we've been through?"

Your shoulders tensed. "Please." A beat of silence. Then, a chuckle lighter than it should have been, but not unkind. "As you wish, little Faerie." A playful lilt, but no deceit in his words this time. "But don't keep me waiting too long." And with that, the weight of his presence receded, though you knew better than to believe he was truly gone. Finally, Elder Faerie spoke. “I had thought,” he murmured, “that I would never feel this kind of pain.” Your breath hitched. Elder Faerie exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “It is not the seal,” he continued. “Not the kingdom. Not even the danger you have released upon Earthbread.” His gaze, though lined with exhaustion, did not waver from you. “It is you that pains me most.” Your hands curled into trembling fists. “Elder Faerie, I-” “I will not allow you to be remembered this way,” he interrupted softly. His voice did not carry the weight of anger, but of something far worse. “Your name will not be tied to destruction. Not if I can help it.” You swallowed the lump in your throat near unbearable. He stepped closer, his presence casting a long shadow beneath the waning glow of the Silver Tree. “Even now,” he continued, quieter, “I cannot bring myself to hate you.” Your breath came sharp. “I should.” His voice wavered, barely above a whisper. “I should rage at you. I should curse your name, demand that you answer for what you have done.” His fingers tightened around his staff, his composure threatening to crack. “But I cannot.” Your vision blurred with unshed tears. “Then…then hate him.” Elder Faerie’s expression darkened, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. “I do.” The admission was quiet, restrained. “I loathe him for what he has taken. For what he has twisted.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then let out a slow breath. “But my hatred means nothing now. The seal is broken.”

Your body trembled. “Then we can fix it-” “No.” Elder Faerie’s voice was steady, though his eyes betrayed the weight he carried. “I can no longer fix it.” A pause. Then, more softly, “I have grown weaker over eons. The tree is no longer what it was.” Your breath came uneven. “But there has to be” “Do not dwell on it,” he interrupted, his voice gentle yet firm. “That is no longer your burden.” Your chest ached, torn between desperation and guilt. “But I” Elder Faerie reached out. His hand, despite everything, came to rest lightly against the side of your face. It was warm, grounding. A gesture of comfort. Of forgiveness. “I know you,” he whispered. “Better than you know yourself.” His fingers curled slightly, not in force, but in something fragile. “Your heart, your instinct, it has always been what guided you. It led you astray, but…” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I do not believe it was ever meant to harm.” Your lips parted, but no words came. His gaze, softer than you deserved, held you captive. “Follow it, one last time.” The weight of his words settled deep in your chest. “Elder Faerie…” He gave the smallest of smiles, faint, tired. “Do not worry.” A pause. Then, quieter, “I will find a way.” The promise was as heavy as it was impossible. But even as he spoke it, you could see, could feel the pain beneath it. He blamed himself. For failing to guide you. For failing to save you. And even as he stood before you, speaking of hope, speaking of solutions his heart was breaking.

Tears blurred your vision, the fractured light of the Silver Tree casting a wavering glow over Elder Faerie’s grief-stricken face. His hand still rested against your cheek, warm despite the cold reality that had settled between you. You had broken the seal. You had shattered everything you had once vowed to protect. And yet, he stood there not condemning you, not striking you down, but aching for you. Your breath trembled as you whispered, “If I’m going to be remembered for this if they curse my name for what I’ve done then let them.” Your hands clenched at your sides. “You shouldn’t cover it up.” Elder Faerie’s expression flickered, but the sorrow in his eyes remained unmoving. “I chose this,” you continued, voice shaking but resolute. “Even if it’s wrong, even if I can’t take it back, I won’t let you erase it for me.” Your chest ached with every word. “I can own up to what I’ve done.” Elder Faerie exhaled slowly, his eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment. When he opened them again, his sadness had not lessened, but his resolve had hardened. “No,” he said softly. “I will not let you bear this weight.” A sharp inhale stung your throat. “Why—” “Because you are still my kin.” His voice, though quiet, carried the finality of a thousand years. “Even now.” His fingers curled slightly against your skin before he withdrew his hand. A silence stretched between you, heavy with the truth neither of you wanted to face. Elder Faerie turned slightly, his gaze shifting beyond the ruined seal, beyond the Silver Tree that now stood vulnerable, its light waning. The Silver Knights still lingered, hesitant, awaiting orders that could no longer undo what had already been done. White Lily Cookie stood among them, her fuchsia eyes dark with sorrow.

With a weary sigh, Elder Faerie straightened his posture, the weight of leadership settling over him once more. “We are leaving.” Your breath hitched. “What?” “There is nothing left for us here.” His voice carried the burden of his decision. “The seal is broken. There is no longer a cage to protect.” He turned to you once more, his gaze firm. “I must protect my people instead.” A lump formed in your throat. “But Shadow Milk he’s-” “He is sparing the kingdom for you.” Elder Faerie’s voice, though not unkind, left no room for denial. “And that is not something I can gamble with. His mercy is not our salvation, it is a fleeting kindness.” His jaw tightened. “I will not allow unnecessary danger to fall upon my people.” The words sent a chill through you. “You mean to run?” “I mean to survive.” Elder Faerie’s eyes burned with determination. “I will not let our people fall, not while I still have the strength to lead them away from this.” Your lips parted, searching for words, searching for anything that could convince him otherwise. But what could you say? You had already chosen your path. Elder Faerie let out a quiet breath, stepping past you, back toward his people, the silver knights as the kingdom’s fate was unknown. “Stay if you must,” he said, the slightest waver in his voice betraying the pain beneath his resolve. “But I will not allow them to suffer for your decision.” The finality of his words settled over you like a crushing weight. And as he walked away, leading the remnants of the Faerie Kingdom into the shadows, you could do nothing but watch.

Your fingers twitched at your side, aching to reach out, to hold onto just a moment longer before he was gone. But you didn't. Instead, you swallowed the lump in your throat and let your hand fall back to your side. Your wings trembled as you watched Elder Faerie retreat, his silhouette fading into the gathering darkness, his presence growing ever distant. Even now, he refused to hate you. Even now, he carried the weight of this loss as if it were his burden to bear instead of yours. Your chest ached. A whisper, barely above breath, slipped from your lips. “…Shadow Milk.” The wind curled around you, stirring the remnants of broken magic in the air, but you felt the shift almost instantly. A presence, cool and familiar, coiling around the edges of your senses. It seeped into the space beside you, unseen but undeniably there. “You called for me, little Faerie?” His voice was softer now, almost indulgent, as if savoring the way you sought him. Your eyes remained on the path where Elder Faerie had disappeared, but your fingers curled slightly as if grasping for something unseen. “Did I…” You swallowed, throat dry. “Did I do the right thing?”

A silence followed, but not an empty one. It was a silence considering, a silence that weighed your question like a game piece in hand. Then, Shadow Milk sighed, a sound both amused and something else you couldn’t decipher. “Ah, my dear, sweet thing… still seeking absolution?” His tone was almost fond. “Do you wish for me to ease your conscience?” You blinked hard, trying to clear the blur of your tears. “I don’t know what happens now.” Your voice was fragile, breaking at the edges. “What do I do?” A soft chuckle, curling with something unspoken. “Well,” Shadow Milk murmured, “you are free now.” That word free. It didn’t feel as weightless as it should have. You exhaled shakily. “Are the others…?” You hesitated, staring at the broken remnants of the seal. “Are they still dormant?” Shadow Milk’s response was slow, deliberate. “For now.” Your breath hitched. “When?” “When will I wake them?” His voice lilted, teasing, but you could feel the coil of something much sharper beneath it. You turned slightly, not quite facing him, but seeking him all the same. “Yes.” Shadow Milk hummed, considering. “Now, now… that would be spoiling the fun, wouldn’t it?” A chill curled around your spine. You could feel the amusement in his tone, but it was like a magician withholding the final reveal. A game he refused to lay bare. “Then… they’re still asleep?” you asked, almost hopeful. Shadow Milk laughed, a quiet, velvety sound. “Oh, little Faerie… you ask so many questions.” His voice lowered, curling at the edges of your mind. “Why not enjoy the moment? I am here, after all.” You let out a shaky breath. He wasn’t giving you answers. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “…Then what happens now?” Shadow Milk didn’t answer right away. Instead, you felt him shift, felt the weight of his presence settle closer, his words pressing against your ear like a secret. “Now?” He purred. “Now, we dance.”

You let out a short, breathless laugh, blinking up at the darkened sky. “You’re joking.” Shadow Milk only tilted his head or at least, you felt the shift of his presence, playful and indulgent. You shook your head, a wry smile ghosting over your lips despite everything. “Why dance?” He hummed, the sound rich and teasing, curling around you like silk. “Would you prefer I say something dreadfully serious?” His voice lilted with kindness, yet there was something almost intentional in his lightness, as if daring you to follow. “Or is it that you think a dance couldn’t possibly be fitting for the moment?” You crossed your arms, wings twitching. “Do you think that would cheer me up?” Your voice was softer than you meant it to be, not accusing just tired. “Or are you just trying to distract me from everything?” Shadow Milk chuckled. “Why, both, of course.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I own what I did,” you murmured. “I made my choice. I know that. But I’m not… happy about how I got here.” You hesitated, watching the remnants of the shattered seal glimmer faintly against the wind. “Shadow Milk… is this supposed to make it easier?”

Silence, for just a moment. Then, a whisper of a touch just the ghost of a presence brushing against your fingers, cold yet oddly inviting. “Dancing,” he mused, his voice dipping into something softer, “is not about forgetting.” A pause. “It’s about moving forward.” Your breath caught. “Would you rather stand still?” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “Would you rather dwell in misery, in self-loathing, in regret?” His tone dipped into something almost mocking not cruel, just coaxing. “Or would you rather live?” You swallowed hard, your fingers twitching slightly. “And dancing is living?” Shadow Milk exhaled a sigh, as if you were terribly, terribly slow. “Oh, my dear.” There was a smile in his voice now. “Dancing is simply another form of freedom.” You weren’t sure what to say to that. He waited, patient, ever-present. “…Do I have a choice?” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. His chuckle curled against your ear like mist. “You always do.” The wind stirred. The air shifted. And then, like a hand extended into the dark, his presence curled around you once more. “Well?” Shadow Milk purred. “Shall we?”

The wind carried the last remnants of silver leaves across the ruined clearing, their shimmer dull beneath the weight of what had transpired. The once-sacred heart of the Faerie Kingdom lay fractured, the Silver Tree’s light all but extinguished. And yet, in the midst of the devastation, there he stood real, no longer just a voice in the dark. You had seen his real form before but you didn’t get a chance to take it all in. Maybe it was the way in the end, you and him had chosen each other. Shadow Milk Cookie was no longer a mere whisper in your mind, no longer a presence lurking just beyond reach. He was here, standing before you in full form, his tall, spindly frame draped in the harlequin darks of his bodysuit. His cyan and cerulean eyes glowed with something unreadable, flickering between amusement and something deeper. He extended a hand toward you, palm up, inviting. You hesitated. Now that you could truly see him, there was no excuse to hide behind the ambiguity of shadows. There was no veil of mystery, no plausible deniability. He was real, tangible, a force unshackled by the chains you had shattered with your own hands. And yet… he looked at you as if none of that mattered. "You hesitate," he mused, his voice dipping into a knowing lilt. “Shall I extend the invitation more sweetly? Should I bow? Kiss your hand? Or…” He leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his mismatched eyes. “Perhaps you’d prefer I demand it? A grand decree, from your villain of choice.” You scoffed, shaking your head, forcing something close to amusement onto your face. “You really think this is going to fix everything?” Shadow Milk hummed, unbothered. “Oh, little Faerie, I never said that.” His fingers flexed slightly, a silent offer still waiting. “I simply said we should dance.”

You exhaled slowly, looking past him for just a moment. Beyond the clearing, hidden within the trees, a figure stood in the dim glow of the fractured remnants of the Silver Tree. Elder Faerie Cookie watched. His expression was unreadable, but his shoulders bore the weight of unspoken sorrow. He had sworn to erase you from the kingdom’s history, to protect you even as you had broken him. He would not allow you to be remembered as a villain but it didn’t change the truth. He had already lost you. Perhaps he had lost you long before this moment. Your fingers twitched at your side. The ache in your chest burned, sharp and unrelenting. You could not go back. Not after this. Not even if he forgave you. The Faerie Kingdom was no longer yours, no longer a place that would welcome you with open arms. Perhaps, it never truly had. You let out a breathy laugh, hollow but deceptively lighthearted. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, lifting your gaze back to Shadow Milk. His smile stretched into something terribly pleased. “Mmm. Yet you always come back” You swallowed. Your hands trembled, just barely. Then, before you could stop yourself, you reached forward and placed your hand in his. His fingers curled around yours instantly, cold yet steady, grounding in a way that sent a shiver up your spine. He grinned, sharp and triumphant, but there was something else in his eyes, something that wasn’t quite mockery, wasn’t quite gloating. Something softer.

Shadow Milk did not rush you. He did not sweep you into some grand, theatrical motion. Instead, he took a single step closer, his free hand resting lightly against your waist, guiding you gently into place. And then, the dance began. The broken clearing became your stage. Shadow Milk moved with effortless grace, leading you through slow, deliberate steps, his body curling and twisting with the natural showmanship of an entertainer who knew his craft well. His coattails swirled like dark silk, the eyes within them blinking lazily in time with the movements. You followed, your feet lighter than you had expected, though your heart remained unbearably heavy. “So,” you said after a moment, feigning nonchalance, “what do I get for playing along with your little show?” Shadow Milk smirked. “Ah, so you do know how to play.” “Answer the question.” He hummed, pretending to think. “You get to forget, for a moment.” He twirled you with ease, letting you spiral before catching you again, his grip firm yet never forceful. “You get to pretend, just as I do. Isn’t that what you wanted?” You hated how easy it was to let yourself fall into the rhythm. Hated how the weight in your chest eased, if only slightly, as the world blurred around you in a slow waltz of shadow and silver light. Maybe you did want to pretend. Maybe deceit was all you had left. From the distance, Elder Faerie Cookie still watched, his expression unreadable, his grief buried beneath the stoicism of a ruler who had no choice but to move forward. But even as he turned away, retreating into the forest to gather what was left of his people, his heart ached with the bitter knowledge that, at the very least, You had chosen this.

The world outside your musicless dance had long since begun to fade. The broken clearing, the Silver Tree’s dying glow, the ghosts of the past that still lingered behind them it all blurred into irrelevance. The only thing left was the steady twirl of shadow and movement, the quiet rhythm that only the two of them could hear. But even as your feet moved in time with his, even as the air between you became lighter with each step, the weight in your chest never truly lifted. There was still something you needed to know. Your fingers curled slightly against his as you exhaled, steadying yourself. “Why me?” Shadow Milk tilted his head, mismatched eyes gleaming with amusement. “Ah, and here I thought you had already figured it out.” You shook your head, gaze steady despite the hesitance twisting in your gut. “Did you always feel this way? Or was it because I could free you?”

For the first time, Shadow Milk faltered. It was barely a flicker a momentary pause in his movement, a beat of silence too brief to be intentional. And then he laughed, soft and lilting, his grip on you tightening just slightly as he resumed his steps. “Would it truly matter?” he mused, spinning you once more before catching you again. “You were the only one who could hear me. The only one who listened.” His voice dipped, something unreadable in the way he regarded you now. “That was all it took.” Your throat felt tight. “That’s not an answer.” Shadow Milk only smiled. Your gaze searched his face, looking for something, some hint of truth, some crack in the performance. But he was as unreadable as ever, his expression locked in the same knowing amusement that had always defined him. Maybe he didn’t even know the answer himself. Maybe you didn’t want to hear it. You swallowed, forcing yourself to breathe through the weight in your chest. “Where are we going after all this?” He hummed, seemingly pleased by your acceptance of the change in subject. “The Spire of Knowledge.”

Your brow furrowed. “The Spire…?” You hesitated, something about the name tugging at old memories. “That was your domain.” Shadow Milk’s grin stretched wider. “Was being the key word.” He twirled you again, slower this time, deliberate. “It was once a place of truth. Of wisdom, enlightenment a monument to Knowledge itself.” He leaned in slightly, voice dipping to a whisper against your ear. “But truth is such a fragile thing, isn’t it?” You shivered, but not from fear. He pulled back, mismatched eyes glinting with something dangerously pleased. “It is only fitting that it becomes something new.” Your stomach twisted. “What do you mean?” “The Spire of Deceit.” His voice was soft, but the weight of the words made the air around you feel colder. “More befitting of who I am now than what I once was.” A chill ran through you, not from his words alone, but from the way he said them. There was no hesitation, no regret only a quiet certainty. Your gaze flickered downward. This is what I chose. There was no going back. Shadow Milk shifted slightly, his grip on your hand loosening just enough to give you an out—to let you step away, if you wanted. But you didn’t. Your fingers remained laced with his, your body still moving with his lead, even as doubt clawed at your ribs. From the distance, beyond the ruins of the Silver Tree, the Faerie Kingdom lay shrouded in the veil of deceit Shadow Milk had cast. You couldn’t see Elder Faerie anymore. You didn’t know if he had left or if he simply no longer watched. But it didn’t matter. Your world had already changed.

The realization settled in slowly, like ink bleeding into parchment.  

If you had stayed, if you had remained the Silver Tree’s guardian, you would have never been free. Not truly. Even if you had fought off the whispers, resisted temptation, devoted yourself wholly to the kingdom… the chains of duty would have remained. You would have always been at war with the shadows. Always peering over your shoulder, waiting for the next deceit to creep in and sink its claws into you.  But now?   Now, there was nothing left to guard. The Silver Tree no longer bound you. Everything comes at a price. Perhaps this was yours. As the dance slowed, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the weight of duty no longer suffocated your ribs, no longer dictated every action, every thought. You were unshackled. And yet, even in this newfound freedom, you found yourself searching for something, some lingering trace of what had once been.  

Your gaze flickered back to Shadow Milk. His expression was unreadable, though amusement still curled at the edges of his lips. He had won. He knew it. But there was no gloating, no smug declarations of victory. He simply watched you, waiting. You hesitated, then spoke. “What was it like?”  His brow arched. “What was what like?”  Your grip on his hand tightened slightly. “Being the Sage of Truth. Before… all of this.”  For the first time since his freedom, Shadow Milk was silent.  The air between you grew still, the weight of your question settling over the space like a thick mist. His grip did not falter, but something in his posture shifted just slightly. The ever-present playfulness in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something quieter, something distant. “…Ah,” he murmured, almost as if he hadn’t expected you to ask. He exhaled, gaze flickering skyward. “It was…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. Your heart twisted.  It was rare to see him hesitate. Shadow Milk was never at a loss for words, always weaving truths and lies together so seamlessly that one could never tell where reality ended and illusion began. But now? Now he looked as though he were peering through a fogged window, trying to recall a reflection that had long since faded.Finally, he spoke. “It was lonely.”  

Your breath caught. His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if anchoring himself to the present. “Truth is a bitter thing. Everyone claims to seek it, to crave knowledge, to desire understanding. But in the end…” He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “They only want the truths that comfort them. The rest?” His fingers brushed against yours, slow and deliberate. “They discard. They turn away. They call it cruel, monstrous even when it is simply reality.”  His mismatched eyes met yours, glinting with something almost unreadable. “That is why they chose him over me.” You knew who he meant. Pure Vanilla Cookie. Your lips parted, but you found yourself at a loss. What could you even say?  Shadow Milk smiled, but it was different this time. Not mocking. Not cruel. Just… tired. “I thought I could endure it. I thought I could bear the burden alone.” His voice softened. “But even the strongest of foundations can crumble beneath the weight of solitude.” The ache in your chest deepened. He had been a Sage. A beacon of truth. A pillar of wisdom. And yet, in the end, he had been left alone. The realization settled into your bones, heavy and undeniable. Even now, he does not regret it. He had embraced his role as Deceit wholeheartedly, had cast aside his past identity without hesitation. But deep down beneath the layers of illusion, beneath the theatrics and cunning smiles there was still something lingering. Something forgotten. You inhaled slowly, steadying yourself. “…Do you miss it?” Shadow Milk blinked.  

Then, slowly, he tilted his head, as if pondering the question himself. “No,” he said at last. “Not in the way you think.” His thumb traced absent circles against your palm. “Truth may be a virtue, but deceit…?” A soft, amused hum left his lips. “Deceit is freedom.” Your breath hitched.  He smiled, tilting your chin up slightly with a single finger. “And now, my dear… you are free too.” The words sent a shiver down your spine. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the ruins of the Silver Tree, the winds carried away the last remnants of what once was.

Shadow Milk Cookie let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he lifted a hand to your face. His touch was featherlight, fingertips brushing just beneath your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his own mismatched eyes one bright and knowing, the other dark and unreadable.

"Tsk, tsk. Don’t do that," he murmured, his tone somewhere between amused and admonishing. "I am no wounded creature, no broken thing in need of fixing." His smile curved, sharp yet indulgent, as if he found the very thought amusing. "You know better than that, don’t you?" You swallowed thickly, unsure of how to respond. He only chuckled again, as though your silence confirmed something. Then, without another word, he turned, leading you forward away from the ruins of what had been, toward something unknown.

The path to the Spire of Deceit was unlike any you had ever walked before. The air shimmered, thick with an otherworldly presence, as if the very fabric of reality had begun to unravel and weave itself anew. The sky overhead was deep, dark indigo, fractured with veins of silver light that pulsed like the slow, steady heartbeat of something ancient. The world around you twisted and bent, landmasses floating in impossible formations, staircases spiraling into the void only to reappear elsewhere. Then, you saw it. The Spire. It rose from the shifting landscape like an unshaken pillar amidst chaos, its towering, jagged peaks reaching toward infinity. The structure was built from dark stone that gleamed like polished onyx, lined with veins of cerulean light that pulsed and flickered in rhythm with the strange magic saturating the air. Bridges hung suspended in midair, leading to archways that seemed to vanish the moment you blinked, shifting as though alive. The very walls breathed, curling with elaborate carvings that reshaped themselves when you turned away. Despite its eerie, twisting nature, the Spire was… breathtaking. Shadow Milk turned slightly, watching you take it in, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Ah, there it is," he mused. "That look of wonder—untainted, unburdened." He gestured broadly, the extravagant flourish of a performer unveiling his grand stage. "It was once the Spire of Knowledge, a haven for scholars and seekers of truth. But knowledge is a fickle thing, is it not?" His smirk deepened. "Now, it is something far more fitting." The Spire of Deceit.

A home for him. A home, now, for you. And before you even realized it, your feet had already found their way toward one place the library. Though you had a feeling he could control the spire’s illusions at will and was the guiding hand towards the library. The moment you stepped through its towering archway, the air shifted. A quiet hum filled the vast chamber, the sound of countless floating tomes drifting through open space, their pages fluttering despite the lack of wind. Shelves stretched impossibly high, their ends lost to shadow. Rivers of ink cascaded in midair, suspended in time, forming words that rewrote themselves before dissolving once more. The scent of parchment, old and new, mingled with something more something ancient, something lost.

Your fingers trailed instinctively along the spine of a floating tome, drawn by the same hunger that had always burned within you. Even now after everything your curiosity refused to wane. "You are predictable," Shadow Milk murmured, his voice a soft tease as he leaned lazily against the edge of a nearby desk. "Not even a moment to mourn the past, and already, you dive into what lies ahead." His mismatched gaze glinted with something akin to approval. You exhaled a quiet breath, scanning the text in your hands. "It was always about learning," you admitted. "Even when I was meant to inherit the role of Guardian… I think I cared more about the knowledge than the duty itself." Shadow Milk tilted his head, watching you with unreadable amusement. "Duty is an illusion an expectation forced upon you," he mused. "Knowledge, however… that is a choice. Your choice." His words curled around you, sinking into the quiet recesses of your mind. Yet, even as they settled, uncertainty still gnawed at you. And so, the question left your lips before you could stop it. "If there had been another heir… if someone else had been chosen to guard the Silver Tree…" Your voice faltered, but you pushed through. "Would it still have been me?"

Would he still have sought you out? Would he still be here, beside you? Would you still matter? Shadow Milk stilled. For a moment, the silence between you was thick, pressing. His expression gave nothing away, his mismatched eyes locked onto yours, searching. Then, he moved. Slowly, deliberately, he stepped forward, closing the space between you. His presence curled around you, dark and velvety, his voice a low murmur against the hush of the library. "You ask as though there was ever another choice." Your breath hitched. His fingers brushed beneath your chin once more, tilting your face up toward his. There was no trickery in his gaze, no jest in his tone only certainty. "Even if the stars had aligned differently, even if fate had woven another path… I would have found you." His voice dipped lower, the words sinking deep into your chest. "And I would have chosen you." Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. Truth or deception? You weren’t sure. But in that moment, as you stood in the vast, ever-shifting halls of the Spire of Deceit—beneath the glow of floating ink and the hum of knowledge long lost—none of it seemed to matter. Because, for the first time in what felt like forever, you had chosen this, too. And perhaps… that was enough.

The air in the Spire of Deceit was still, as if the very walls were waiting to hear your answer. The halls, lined with towering bookshelves and twisting staircases, seemed to stretch endlessly into the abyss, their winding paths mirroring the labyrinth of emotions inside you. The knowledge here was vast, unshackled, and tainted by neither truth nor lies just as he was. Shadow Milk Cookie stood before you, his presence inescapable. His mismatched eyes gleamed with something unreadable, watching as you struggled with words too heavy to speak. The quiet between you was suffocating, yet he seemed content to let you drown in it, his expression unreadable waiting. You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’ll stay,” you finally breathed, and the moment the words left your lips, something inside you shifted, solidified. “I already chose you.” His smirk faltered for the briefest second. Barely noticeable. But you caught it. His thumb grazed your cheek, an almost hesitant touch, before his fingers settled beneath your chin, tilting your head up. His touch was cold, yet it burned. “You choose me,” he mused, more to himself than to you. His voice was softer now, lacking its usual theatrical flourish, as if the weight of your words had settled somewhere deep within him.

“I do,” you whispered. His grip on you tightened just slightly. But then, you continued. “But I don’t want to be part of destruction.” Your voice trembled, but you forced yourself forward. “I won’t fight against what’s already happened. I chose this. I’ll bear it. But I won’t… I won’t let it go further. I can’t. I won’t break Elder Faerie’s heart any more than I already have.” Silence. Shadow Milk Cookie simply stared at you, unreadable. Then, he laughed. Softly, breathlessly almost disbelieving. His hand fell from your chin, but the air between you remained electric, thick with something unspoken. “You think,” he said, his voice dripping with amusement, “that you can stand beside me and remain untouched by what I do?” “I have to try,” you said, voice shaking. His smirk widened, but his expression and his eyes were darker now. “You are a fool,” he said, and there was no mockery in his tone. “Maybe.” His fingers ghosted over your wrist, lingering there, as if he was debating something. “Then answer me this,” he murmured, tilting his head. “If I were to refuse? If I told you that you must embrace the world I intend to create?” Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, but you stood firm. “Then I will go.” Something in his expression flickered. You didn’t know if it was amusement. Annoyance. Pain. Then, he exhaled slow and deliberate. The hand on your wrist slid towards your hand, his fingers curling loosely around your own. His grip was gentle, but firm, as if testing your resolve. “You would leave me,” he mused, voice soft, “after everything?” A lump formed in your throat. “If you make me,” you whispered. Another silence stretched between you. Then, unexpectedly his grip tightened. He didn’t let go. A low, knowing chuckle escaped him, but it wasn’t his usual laughter. No mockery. No theatrics. Instead, something deeper settled behind his mismatched eyes, something indulgent, something dangerously close to tenderness.

"You truly are something else," he murmured, his voice almost… fond. And then, he leaned in. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “Very well.” The tension in your chest loosened just slightly. His fingers dragged upwards on your arm before finally slipping away, giving you space. And yet, his presence coiled around you like an inescapable shadow. “I won’t force you to take part in my grand designs,” he continued. “Not yet, at least.” His smirk twitched at your sharp look. "But" His hand lifted in a careless flourish, his voice returning to its usual lilting amusement. "I will ask for something in return.” Your stomach twisted.“What?” He leaned back, watching you with knowing eyes. "Stay." One, simple request. No tricks. No riddles. Just that. Your heart ached at the simplicity of it. At the weight of it. You had thrown everything away for him. Your home. Your legacy. The love of the only father figure you had ever known. And yet here he was. The one thing in this world you could never predict. A monster draped in silk and illusions, deceit curled upon his tongue like honey. And yet he had never lied about what he was. The choice was yours. Your throat tightened. “I…” Your voice cracked. You exhaled. “…I will.” Shadow Milk Cookie only smiled. It was not triumphant. It was not victorious. It was satisfied. As if he had always known you would say yes. His fingers brushed against yours once more so fleetingly, so carefully, that for a moment, you wondered if you had imagined it. Then, his presence pulled away, and the air grew heavier once more.

"You do amuse me," he mused, the playfulness creeping back into his tone, though something else lingered beneath it. "But know this, dear, my path has already been paved. My plans, my pact, are not yours to break.” A cold shiver ran down your spine. He turned, walking toward the towering windows of the spire, where the fractured sky bled into the horizon. "You wished for kindness, and I have granted it," he continued. "For you, I have spared them…for now." He turned slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder, his grin sharp as a knife. "But do not mistake that for weakness, my dear. My destruction has already been written. You simply are not part of its ink." 

Days in the spire were mainly mundane Shadow Milk was never too busy for you, however he was still scheming never letting you see his plans. Maybe it was for your own good. The halls of the Spire of Deceit wound like a labyrinth, towering shelves stacked with books whose truths had long since been twisted beyond recognition. It was neither day nor night here, just an eternal limbo where time bled into itself, much like the lines between truth and deception. The wind curled through the open halls of the Spire of Deceit, carrying with it the scent of aged parchment and something faintly sweet, like the last traces of a dream before waking. Shadow Milk Cookie stood before the grand window, his silhouette dark against the star-streaked sky. The view stretched endlessly, a world waiting to be rewritten.  You lingered at the threshold, watching him, waiting. He was always so unreadable, so infuriatingly composed, yet today… today felt different. He turned his head slightly. “If you have something to say, little Faerie, say it.” You swallowed. “Why me?” you had always asked this, asked yourself, asked him. You wouldn’t stop not until you got a concrete answer. That question always made him pause. You pressed on, stepping closer, your voice steady despite the weight in your chest. “From the moment you saw me at the tree, why did it have to be me? Was it just because I could release you?” Shadow Milk did not answer immediately. He exhaled slowly, his fingers trailing along the glass of the window before he finally turned to face you fully. His heterochromatic eyes gleamed in the dim light, the ever-watching shadows in his hair blinking lazily. “When I first saw you,” he mused, “when I could finally see beyond that wretched bark I thought you naïve.” His gaze flickered with something unreadable. “Entertaining, yes. But hopelessly foolish.” A smirk curled at his lips, but there was no mockery in it. “Enough to make me want to keep watching.”

You blinked. “Watching?”

His gaze flickered, and he took a step forward, closer than before. “When the seal weakened, and I could see through the bark of that cursed tree, you were the first thing I laid eyes upon.” His voice dropped to something softer, something almost dangerous in its honesty. “And I could not look away.” Your breath caught in your throat. “And it didn’t take long before I found myself waiting,” he admitted, voice dipping into something almost vulnerable. “For your voice. For your questions. For your presence.” His mismatched eyes locked onto yours. “My patience has never been my strong suit, but for you? I endured.”

“I told myself it was strategy,” he continued, tilting his head as though studying you. “That it was only a matter of finding the right strings to pull, the right lies to whisper. But the more I watched, the more you became something else.” A hand reached out, brushing barely against your cheek before he pulled away, as if catching himself. “I don’t shackle easily,” he murmured. “And yet, somehow, you’ve bound me without a single chain.” His fingers grazed yours, barely touching, his voice dropping lower. “And when you did set me free… I realized that my shackles had never been made of wood or magic.” His lips twitched into something wry, something resigned. “They were made of you.” Your heart pounded. “Then… you would do as I ask?” Shadow Milk chuckled, the sound dark and rich. “Anything,” he said smoothly, “except abandon my purpose.” A chill settled over you. “The Beasts.” His smirk did not falter. “The pact I made with them was never yours to undo.”

Your throat tightened, a familiar ache clawing at your ribs. You had known—perhaps you had always known—that some things were beyond your reach. And yet, here he stood before you, offering everything but that. Your fingers curled into fists at your sides. “Then what am I to you?” Shadow Milk leaned in ever so slightly, his mismatched eyes sharp with something unreadable. “You,” he said, voice a whisper against your skin, “are the only thing I choose to keep.” The words settled deep in your bones. There was no deception in them, no half-truths. And perhaps that was what frightened you mostYour chest tightened at the weight of his words. But you had to ask. “And if I walk away?” His smirk was immediate. “Then I shall follow.” You frowned. “And if I run?” His eyes darkened with amusement. “Then I shall chase.” You let out a quiet, shaky laugh, shaking your head. “You speak of me as though I belong to you.” “Don’t you?” The question hung in the air between you, heavier than any spell, more binding than any seal. You thought of the Silver Tree, of Elder Faerie Cookie’s pained expression as he turned away from you for the last time. Of the home you had lost, of the kingdom that would pretend you never existed. You thought of how, despite it all, you did not regret it. Because the truth was, you had always been running. From duty. From expectation. From a life that had never truly been your own. And now, at last, there was no need to run. Not when you stood before the one who had always seen you. Swallowing, you met his gaze fully. “And what now?” Shadow Milk Cookie smiled, slow and knowing, taking your hand in his. “Now?” He leaned in, voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Now, we rewrite the world.”

A/N I hope this ending was satisfactory I didn't want to rush to get to the ending. I really loved writing this and I took a little longer when tweaking it because I didn't like the ending I had written so I rewrote it please enjoy <3