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annadia-thorn · 1 year ago

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Aralya'diel

The clipper Aralya’diel cut a sharp profile moored at the docks below Paw’don village; her lines and craftwork showed the vessel as one from Suramar’s shipyards, although the cut of her sails, for those with an eye, bore the influence of Quel’thalas. A lanky figure with long tusks and a shock of upright hair stood on the forward decks, a three-fingered hand held over his eyes as he peered towards the village above.

“‘ey, Cap’n Tightpants,” the troll called out, “I tink dat be your sister comin’.”

Annadia ducked out of the clipper’s aftcastle, adjusting a tricorn hat adorned with a nigh-ridiculous feather to just the right rakish angle. Black leather pants, fitted tight enough to earn the troll’s epithet, were tucked into knee-high cavalier boots buckled close around her calves, the outfit topped with a bishop-sleeved loose linen shirt left dangerously unbuttoned and secured only by an elaborately embroidered half-corset.

All the ensemble required were her blades and pistols but those? Those remained below decks. The conditions of Paw’don's dockmaster were strict, and the local Pandaren had not forgotten the memory of what had once been Garrosh’ar Point.

“Yeah, that’s Seraa,” the sin’dorei agreed, walking across the deck to join the troll at the clipper’s forecastle. The distant figure was making her unhurried way along the winding path from the village to the docks, followed by a shadow far darker than could be accounted for by the springtime sun. “I’m surprised you remember her. And Ko’jin - you’re gonna have to stop calling me that when we get a full crew.”

Annadia gave him a sidelong look, golden eyes narrowing as the troll burst out in laughter.

“Only when you stop dressin’ like de covah o’ some cheap trash book,” the lanky troll retorted after his laughter subsided, “or mebbe you be plannin’ for an early Hallow’s End, eh?” His broad smile, echoed by Annadia a breath later, dulled the sharp edges of their banter.

She lifted a lazy hand with one finger extended in a near-universal gesture. “Let me have it, huh? It’s fun to play the part. We’re still breaking her in,” Anna patted the carved railing, “and I’ve been dreaming of my own ship since I was little. Besides…”

She checked the cinch of her waspie and adjusted her bosom emphatically, “If they’re distracted by my tits, they won’t see how blind we’re stealing them.” Her grin grew sly, long brows raised with hints of salacious intent.

“If it’s larceny on ya mind, you gon be needin’ more den dose baps,” Ko’jin snorted with mock derision, only to wince and move away from the punch Annadia aimed at his arm. “Spirits, ya be abusin’ yer crew already! Fine cap’n you gonna make.”

Annadia huffed an exaggerated pout of aggrievement before looking back along the path. Her sister was near halfway from the village, close enough that Annadia waved and shouted a greeting, the shadowed figure raising a hand in silent response.

A nudge from Ko’jin pushed Annadia in the direction of the gangplank. “You go’wan an’ meet her. Ghaz won’ be back from Two Moons ‘til mornin’, an’ I still gotta finish wit’ inventory in de hold.” He considered Anna for a moment, “You still tink settin’ aside dat space be a good idea?”

“…Yeah. I got a feeling.” She gave a curt nod, still looking towards Seraanna’s approach and waving again. “This time.”

“Best t’be trustin’ a captain’s hunches, ‘den. Mebbe I’ll stop in t’greet you an’ her after y’both had some time for catchin’ up.”

“Captain.” A pleased smirk. “I still like the sound of that. Don’t lose yourself in the hold, or all the wine’ll be gone by the time you’re out.”

“An’ here you be tinkin’ I didn’t lay in extra.” Ko’jin made a shooing gesture. “Now git, ‘fore she boards an’ takes de helm while we’re jawin’.”

Annadia flipped the bird at him again and left, boots clacking along the gangplank as she debarked. Ko’jin watched, the troll‘s thick fingers worrying a dull amulet worn about his neck until he saw the two sisters - sin’dorei and ren’dorei - meet in an embrace still a hundred-odd yards from the docks. Only then did he make his way belowdecks.

"Dreamer be walkin’ again..."

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mentions: @longveil

Ko'jin & Ghaz have appeared in: Old Bindings (Seraanna, flashback) and Extinguished (Kyuusei)

#thornstories #annadia thorn #seraanna longveil #ko'jin and ghaz #old NPCs #| Masks |

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darkfluffydragon · 5 months ago

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Cookie Run AU Ideas #8: Timeless Kingdom

what if Pure Vanilla Cookie, instead of being amnesiac outside with Black Raisin, was instead trapped in the Vanilla Castle time loop? But because of the Light of Truth, he's aware of it? he's been stuck there for...hundreds of years, watching his people die over and over again nothing ever changes no matter what he does and then finally, Gingerbrave shows up. I mean, PV may be nice but there are only so many times he can hear the same monologue before he gets reaaaally sick of it gonna join GC on the hate train and he physically isn't able to do anything "out of script". Every time he tries, he sort of 'loses control of his body', since it's a memory time loop you can't just change a memory and since he's a part of it, it'll force him to go along with it. To play his role. Gingerbrave and his friends probably wouldn't even realise he's not a memory at first, that the Pure Vanilla is the real one.

And an extra I wrote for the AU >:3

Pure Vanilla Cookie awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open to the familiar sight of his bed’s golden canopy. His head throbbed, and his mind felt muddled, a fog of pain and confusion clouding his thoughts. He struggled to sit up, the effort sending sharp jolts of agony through his body. As he gathered his bearings, fragments of memories began to resurface—the battle against Dark Enchantress Cookie, the ruins of his castle, and the faces of his friends, Golden Cheese Cookie, Dark Cacao Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie, and White Lily Cookie.

They had arrived to aid him, late, their expressions grim and determined. By then, he had already spent hours running through the chaos, trying desperately to heal his people. But no matter how hard he tried, the cake monsters kept coming, relentless and unyielding. He remembered the wounds they all bore. The exhaustion that clung to their bones as they fought to protect their home, their kingdom. With his magic reserves depleted, there had been a point where he had started reaching into the depths of his being, drawing upon his very essence—his life powder and soul to fuel his spells.

He remembered the final confrontation against her, he had used Dark Moon Magic, a power he had sworn never to touch. ~~The magic most natural to him.~~ The last time he had seen it wielded, it had led to the academy's destruction. But there had been no other choice. He had cast the banishment spell, lifting himself into the air as Dark Enchantress Cookie tore their Souljams, their very souls, from them. The explosion had ripped through the kingdom, the pain blinding and all-consuming. And then, nothing.

Now, here he was, awake once more. Why? How? As these questions swirled in his mind, he felt a strange sensation, as if invisible strings were tugging at his limbs. Panic surged through him as he realised he was moving against his will, his body tracing the exact path of his memories. He tried to speak, to cry out, but no sound escaped his lips.

“No! Run! Dark Enchantress is coming! Evacuate the cookies!” he screamed, his voice hoarse with desperation. But the words seemed to dissipate into the air, unheard and unheeded. The cookies outside moved about their routines, oblivious to the impending doom. Children played in the streets, vendors hawking their wares, and guards patrolled, all blissfully unaware of the threat looming over them.

The nightmare would unfold before him with horrifying clarity. His friends—the heroes—were nowhere to be seen. Instead, dark silhouettes had taken their place, shadowy figures that seemed to mock his efforts. Was it because of the Souljams? Could this memory not replicate them because of the artefacts which housed their power?

The endless battle raged around him, the air thick with the stench of smoke and the cries of the wounded. Cake monsters swarmed the castle, their grotesque forms looming over the terrified cookies. Pure Vanilla’s attempts to heal his people felt like trying to stop a flood with a sieve. Every spell he cast seemed to evaporate into nothingness, swallowed by the overwhelming darkness.

The invisible strings tightened around him. It constricted his movements, squeezing his mind. His autonomy slipped further away with each passing moment. The fog in his mind grew denser, suffocating his thoughts.

He felt every wound, every drop of jam that spilled, every life that was lost. He could see the faces of his people contorted in terror and agony, and hear their screams echoing in his mind. His friends fought, their forms blurred by exhaustion and jam. Yet no matter how hard they fought, the cake monsters kept coming, an endless tide of destruction.

The sky would fill with magic circles, blue eyes of the runes staring down at the target as he used magic that he swore to never use, for the second time. He would see her malevolent grin, and feel the agony of the explosion that followed.

And then, he was back in his bed, the cycle beginning anew. The loops continued, over and over, each one more harrowing than the last. As time stretched into eternity, Pure Vanilla Cookie felt his thoughts growing quieter. Centuries seemed to pass, each loop eroding a bit more of his will. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, and soon, he feared, he would no longer be able to think. In the moments of silence, his mind would turn to White Lily Cookie, the one he had loved so deeply. She had become Dark Enchantress Cookie, the architect of his suffering and the destroyer of his kingdom. Yet, despite everything, he still loved her.

The pain of that love was like rose thorns digging into his heart, a constant, aching reminder of what once was. He had loved her so dearly, had kept her transformation a secret from their friends, hoping against hope that she could be redeemed. But now, as he watched his beloved kingdom and its innocent people crumble time and time again, the anguish was almost too much to bear.

To love White Lily Cookie was to love a rose. To love her was to let the rose crawl up him, letting its hurtful thorns dig into his fragile dough. His jam would paint the delicate petals red, and once gone, wounds and scars would be left to taunt him of his foolish desire.

She had been gifted a bouquet of hearts, yet the only one his moon had taken was his own. She dangled the prize in front of him like a carrot on a stick, and he ran the race despite being the only competitor. She blindfolded him of the fact, and let Pure Vanilla run himself ragged until he could give no more. Then, she left. Left with everything that was Pure Vanilla, left him empty and hurting. Trapped. Left in all her gentle and loving glory, as her beautiful soul was tainted and twisted into the monster that had taken her place.

He did not care for the traitorous thoughts wondering if he was feeling the wrong feelings and thinking the wrong thoughts. He could not care, for he loved her nonetheless. Loved her poisonous, uncompleted promises. Loved her for the nights of waiting by the academy garden, gazing up at the sky, at clouds that would never part to allow him a glimpse of her smile. Loved her for the incomplete dances she swore she would return for, leaving him alone and abandoned in an empty ballroom. He loved her unconditionally. And for this, White Lily Cookie had become his greatest torment.

Each encounter felt like a knife twisting deeper into his heart. The sight of Dark Enchantress Cookie, her once gentle eyes now filled with malice, was a reminder of everything he had lost. She had been his moon, his guiding light, and he had loved her with a purity that he had thought unbreakable. But the darkness that had taken her was relentless, and it had shattered her, and him, beyond repair.

The White Lily Cookie he loved was gone, replaced by the Dark Enchantress Cookie who revelled in his suffering. She was the creator of his endless torment, the reason his kingdom lay in ruins, and his people were lost

What a fool he was.

Pure Vanilla Cookie, awoke in a bed not his own. His limbs were not strung by strings that cut into his dough, and his thoughts were…loud. Clarity such as this was so incredibly rare.

He took in the room, noting how the other cookies, the ones who had…saved him, were still asleep. Quietly, he slipped out of the room, his steps soft and deliberate, as if any sound might shatter this fragile moment of peace. The hallway was dimly lit, shadows playing along the walls. He moved with purpose, though his heart was heavy with the familiar ache of his memories.

Reaching the garden, he paused for a moment at the entrance, breathing in the cool night air. The scent of flowers and earth was a reminder of simpler times. He walked towards the patch of lily flowers, their white petals glowing softly under the moonlight.

Sitting down among the lilies, he stared up at the moon, its pale light casting a gentle glow over the garden. The tranquillity of the night wrapped around him, and for a brief moment, he felt the weight of his sorrow lift.

His thoughts turned, as they always did, to White Lily Cookie. The moon reminded him of her—bright, beautiful, yet distant and untouchable. He remembered their nights in the academy garden, the way she would laugh and talk about the future with such hope. Those memories were bittersweet now, coloured by the centuries of pain.

The garden was silent except for the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Pure Vanilla Cookie closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. He could almost hear her voice, see her smile. But then the image would shift, and he would see her as she was now—cold, dark, and filled with a malice that seemed impossible for someone who had once been so kind. He hated that he loved White Lily, a love that had once been pure and untainted. But he loathed Dark Enchantress to the point it hurt.

As the night wore on, Pure Vanilla sat alone. Though he could pretend that he was not, that there was another by his side. Perhaps…even four, all five of them together, underneath the starlit sky with the scent of campfire smoke in the air. He did not know how long this clarity would last, how long before he would be pulled back into the muddy thoughts and fog. But for now, he rested in the peace of the garden, and the bittersweet memories of the one he loved.

Under the moonlight, surrounded by the lilies, he allowed himself to simply be. To remember, to grieve, and to love, even if it was only for a brief, stolen moment.

#fyp #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk #cr kingdom #pure vanilla cookie #vanillaverse #timeless kingdom #white lily cookie #he's like a NPC most of the time #spent too long being strung around like a robot #peepaw can't handle too much information at once #like a really really old computer trying to run Minecraft shaders #sad boi #the blue in his hair? Forgotten academy part 2 >:3 #the light of truth basically fused into his soul trying to keep him stable in the timeloops

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