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Assistant: Title: Jambound
        Author: Anonymous undefined 
        Chapter: 10/32 
        Summary: The room is too bright.It’s quaint, in a nauseating sort of way. Polished floors glint from the gleaming honeycomb chandeliers overhead, make him squint. A few vases sprinkled here and there, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet scent – even a waffle-cone headrest framing the silken sheets of a neatly-tucked bed. Outside, the golden sun gleams, the gentle rays of light spilling past curtains that waver in the afternoon breeze.It's meant to be beautiful. Luxurious. Welcoming.With one sweep of his cane, Shadow Milk tears it apart.[[ Updated semi-weekly ]]
        Contents: Chapter 10
    

    


  

  
  
    
    Pure Vanilla isn’t an easy Cookie to avoid.To Shadow Milk’s credit, he’d waited nearly an hour that night - staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick by. The minute hand, slowly circling around and around, had been his only focus, slowly counting down each beat of silence that enveloped Pure Vanilla’s room. His eyes had never left it once, consumed by concentration, his mind pointedly blank as he’d waited for the sound of footsteps to approach.When his patience had run dry, when he’d begrudgingly slipped into his other-realm to look through the other’s eyes, he’d found Pure Vanilla hadn’t moved an inch – still sitting in that haystack, staring emptily at the lamb nuzzling into his palm.Shadow Milk had broken the connection with a snap, exiting the room in a violent burst of darkness.He hasn’t been back since.Yet, despite oh-so-rudely lingering long into that wretched night, Pure Vanilla seems to have taken it upon himself to follow up every day since. When Shadow Milk retreats to his chambers, there’s a knock on his door. When he sunbathes on the castle spires, a voice calls out for him below. Even when he settles in for a simple meal on the kitchen’s ceilings, it’s not long before the tapping of a repulsively familiar staff starts heading his way.Shadow Milk knows Pure Vanilla is persistent, but refusing to take the hint is another matter entirely.The castle becomes a chore, a cat-and-mouse that Shadow Milk is finding thoroughly unenjoyable. No matter how many whirlwinds he conjures or cackling marionettes he sets about the halls, Pure Vanilla is only ever two steps behind him, chasing him from room to room. Shadow Milk’s name is perpetually on the other’s lips, a ringing call that Shadow Milk has no intention of answering.He leaves again.Not far – not terribly far, anyway. He wanders the markets as a child, swiping anything that catches his fancy and discarding it minutes later in boredom. He drinks in the Crow’s Nest Inn as a sailor, gulping down bitter brew that numbs his mind and paying with coins that melt into nothingness the moment he leaves. He, for a brief moment, switches the limbs of every Cookie within his view of the plaza. Because they’re there. Because he can.He seeks out Black Raisin Cookie.She’s a surprisingly difficult Cookie to find, all things considered. After meandering through the back alleyways he happens upon her house, but she isn’t there. He searches the inn’s rooftops, but they’re empty of any sign of life. It isn’t until he spies one of her crows, following it nearly two miles before he finally spots her, nestled high in a treetop with a spyglass in hand.As he approaches, she lowers the glass and gives him a wary look before finally nodding her head.“Beast of Deceit.”“Black Raisin Cookie.” He perks a brow when she says nothing else, staring at him with an unfamiliar coldness. “Hey, why the long face? Thought we were buds, bud.”“You threw me.”Ah. Right.“Call it a friendly nudge.” Shadow Milk settles on the branch next to her; she gives him a wary stare, not moving an inch. “Oh, c’mon.” She continues staring; Shadow Milk rolls his eyes before flashing her a toothy grin. “Alright, alright! Sheesh, so touchy. Won’t happen again, m’kay?”Black Raisin Cookie gives him an open once-over before lifting her spyglass, returning her gaze to the sky. “Why are you out here?”“Why are you?” Shadow Milk counters. “Looking for more avian friends to add to your collection? You know, there is such a thing as a crazy crow lady.”“Scouting.” She turns her glass to the right, leaning forward slightly. “Cake Monsters were spotted nearby a few nights ago.”Shadow Milk tilts his head. “Up here? Vanilla Kingdom’s kinda high up in the sky for that, don’tcha think? What, they got wings now?”“Could be. Or someone’s letting them in through the portal below.”A shrug as Shadow Milk shifts on the branch. “Don’t look at me.”“You were considered.”Shadow Milk grins. “Aw. You really are a flatterer, you know that?”Black Raisin Cookie lowers her spyglass, giving him another once-over. “You haven’t answered my question.”“Hmmmm?”“Why are you here?” Her stare is suspicious, yet tinged with some strange hint of amusement. “You two fighting again?”Shadow Milk’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”Black Raisin Cookie shrugs. “It’s why you hung out with me last time.”“We’re-” There’s no we. “I am not fighting with anyone.” Shadow Milk kicks one of his legs in irritation. “Can’t a poor, handsome Beast get bored from time to time without the third degree? I thought we were best buds now. You’re hurting my feelings.”“Hm.” Black Raisin Cookie turns her gaze back to the sky. “If you say so.”“Still.” Shadow Milk picks at a loose leaf on the branch. “If you have more awful things to say about him, I might be open to listening.”A sigh; there’s movement, the branch shaking as Black Raisin Cookie begins deftly lowering herself down. “Come on.”Shadow Milk watches her nimbly clamber along the trunk, perking a brow. “Come on, what?”“If you’re going to chat, you’re going to work.” She glances up at him, nodding her head towards the ground. “I have traps set up in the perimeter. I need to check them.”A scoff. “I’m not here to work.”“Well, I am.” Black Raisin Cookie drops to the forest floor, craning her neck up with her hand on her hip. “So if you want to complain about all the little ways he drives you crazy, you can do it walking.”“I’m not here to walk, either!” he snaps back - but she’s already trudging away, her flock of crows following closely at her back. Shadow Milk scowls; he bounces his foot irritably, gaze flicking between the ground and her swiftly retreating form.Ugh.Fine.If Black Raisin Cookie is startled by Shadow Milk slipping out of the shadows beside her, she doesn’t show it; she just continues walking, eyes forward as the leaves crunch beneath her boots. There’s a half-glance, a cursory nod, and then she’s weaving between the trunks, set on a path Shadow Milk’s clueless to.He follows, but he’s not happy about it.“Where are we going?”“North.” Black Raisin Cookie ducks under a low-hanging branch, holding it aside as he passes beside her. “But that’s not what you’re here to ask me.”Shadow Milk perks a brow. “Getting straight to the point, are we?”“I don’t enjoy beating around the bush.” A hop over a fallen log before she glances back at him. “So, go on. What’s he done this time?”“I never said there was a him.”“Sure.”Shadow Milk’s mouth twitches; he’s not sure if he wants to scowl or grin at her boldness. “You were a lot more fun tipsy, you know that?”“I’m sure I was. Unfortunately, I don’t drink on the job.” Black Raisin Cookie beckons him past a curved trunk. “This way.”A hum as Shadow Milk curves through the air after her. There’s a moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of sticks snapping beneath her boots, before he remarks:“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”“I never said that.” Black Raisin Cookie doesn’t look back at him, gaze set firmly forward as she walks. “Any Cookie would be a fool not to be wary of you.”Shadow Milk tilts his head, considering. “You don’t act like it.”“What would be the point? As I said, you’re not my fight.”“So, what?” Shadow Milk drifts closer, hovering over her head as she continues to stare forward. “Transactional civility? You pretend to play nice, hope I don’t crumble you to bits? Gotta say, the odds are not in your favor on that one.”Black Raisin Cookie swiftly ducks, weaving to the side to continue her path; Shadow Milk tsks under his breath. There’s another long pause, three heartbeats of silence before:“Two things can be true.”Shadow Milk c@cks his head. “Hm?”Black Raisin Cookie places her hand on a rotted-out trunk, finally looking back at him. “It’s in my best interest to get along with you,” she says bluntly. “I gain nothing from drawing the ire of a foe I hold no real weapon against.”Typical. Just as he’d suspected.“But,” she continues suddenly, “you have also not given me a reason to be hostile to you in the first place.” A pause. “Aside from throwing me, I have no quarrel with you.”A scoff; Shadow Milk rolls his eyes. “What? You’d be nice, just because?”“Yes?” She raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Why do I need an excuse to be nice to other Cookies? Do you need excuses?”Shadow Milk blinks – then swiftly narrows his eyes. “But that’s not why you’re playing nice,” he hisses back. “You’re doing it out of fear.”“If you were powerless, I’d still be polite.” Black Raisin Cookie turns away, continuing on her path. “More so, probably. As I said, you’ve given me no reason to dislike you outright.” A pause. “Aside from-”“Yes, yes, the throwing,” Shadow Milk snaps back. “And what if I did give you a reason, hm? What then?”Black Raisin Cookie glances back; her footsteps falter momentarily. “Are you threatening me?” “I mean-” Shadow Milk slips through the shadows, reappearing before her in an instant – to her credit, she does not flinch. “What if I had hurt you? What if you had every reason to hate me in every tiny little crumb of your being? What then, hm?” He leans closer; she tilts her head away, eyes narrowing with a grimace.“Are you still going to play nice?” The air around them darkens, and his narrowed eyes track her uneasy swallow. “Will you pretend? Submit to your own powerlessness to stop me, and pray I fall for your pathetic little niceties instead? Is that your wretched little plan?” Black Raisin Cookie watches him warily; every inch of her body is tense, yet she holds his narrowed gaze with surprising tenacity. They do not move; the wind rushes past them, rustling her hair as her crows caw overhead.“This isn’t about me, is it?”The darkness drops; Shadow Milk scowls, floating backwards as he crosses his arms across his chest.Black Raisin straightens up; she gives him an open once-over but says nothing, turning on her heels to continue her trek.Annoying.She must have learned it from him.The rest of their journey passes in silence; Black Raisin Cookie offers nothing, and what little Shadow Milk irritably comments on she responds with short remarks or distracted quips. Her concentration is on her surroundings, eyes scanning the area as they move from clearing to clearing, all decorated with traps.All empty.Shadow Milk gives the latest contraption a passing once-over as she turns it over in her hand and sighs; it’s a simple cage, a Jelly haunch dangling from a string within, covered in leaves to camouflage it in the forest floor. Pitiful, haphazard. Is she even trying?“You’ll never catch anything like that,” he remarks dryly.Black Raisin Cookie looks up. “What? They’re extremely effective.”Shadow Milk perks an unimpressed brow. “For what? Small game?”A pause; Black Raisin Cookie’s expression wavers slightly. “Well – yes. That’s what we used to use them for.”A sigh, long and theatrical; Shadow Milk shakes his head and spreads his hands in dismay. “My dear girl. What are they teaching you in school these days?”Black Raisin Cookie scowls. “I’m not a trapper, alright? My job was to guard the village, not hunt for it.” She motions to the cage. “What would you do differently, then?”Shadow Milk leans forward, arms behind his back as he studies the apparatus. “For one thing,” he remarks, “Cake Monsters are hunters, not scavengers. You’re not going to gain their interest with old, rotting meat. You need something alive, or at least something that gives off the illusion of liveliness.”A glance at the cage before Black Raisin Cookie’s looking back up at him. “Like what?”“Mmm…” Shadow Milk tilts his head, considering. “Something mechanical, perhaps. A cut-out of a Cookie that turns back and forth on a piston. A lump of dough that moves and shakes on a hook like an injured animal. Or, if you can’t get your hands – sorry, hand on anything like that, bait it with something small, alive, and disposable.” He grins, all teeth. “Have you met Cuccidati Cookie, perhaps?”Black Raisin Cookie turns the trap over; her gaze is considering, thoughtful. “Those aren’t bad ideas.” She glances up at him. “How do you know all this stuff?”“My dear,” Shadow Milk drawls, “what I don’t know can’t fill even the teensiest thimble there is. Which is why I also know that this whole endeavor is entirely pointless.”“It’s not pointless.” Black Raisin Cookie is getting to her feet, dusting herself off. “It’s to protect the Cookies under my care.”“Oh, but it is!” Shadow Milk twists around her in the air, grinning ear to ear. “Completely and utterly. Really, why waste your time trying to delay the inevitable? It’s all going to come crumbling down eventually.”Black Raisin Cookie’s stare is wary; she takes a step back, visibly on guard. “What do you mean? What are you planning?”“Moi? Nothing.” Shadow Milk pauses, flipping around as he considers. “I mean, not at this exact moment. Long-term stuff, sure, take the Soul Jam, crumble the kingdom to dust, that old song and dance.” He shrugs. “But I’m talking big picture! Do you really enjoy spending your days poking around in the dirt out here? Why not go have some fun instead? Your little lifespans are so fleeting – why not actually enjoy the itty bitty time you have left?”“I am-” Black Raisin Cookie stares at him, searching his face with a strained expression. “Not old.”Shadow Milk sweeps out his cane in a grand gesture; in an instant, the forest blurs around them. Beautiful darkness swells from the ground; marionettes drop and twists from the trees as golden moons and blackened suns fill the twinkling sky. A symphony of Shadow Milk’s own making sings through the air as his puppets twirl and dance in beautiful spirals, brushing against Black Raisin Cookie as she flinches at every touch.“You are fragile.” Shadow Milk’s voice is warmth itself, carrying through the clearing. “Crumbling with every breath you take. Deluding yourself that the few extra seconds of such a miserable existence will be worth the pain of such a life. Why not embrace true sweetness instead? Why not dance along the whispers of a sweet lie, where there is no pain, no strife? Why continue, when the truth is that nothing you have done will ever matter?”Black Raisin Cookie turns her head, expression tight as she surveys her illusionary surroundings; there is a flicker, a tensing in her shoulders – before she suddenly looks straight at him.“Can you just go talk to him?”The music abruptly stops.“I-” A moment of hesitation; Black Raisin Cookie’s uneasy gaze briefly darts around the now-frozen illusion. “I don’t know what’s bothering you. But clearly something happened that you’re taking out on me. And since I’m not interested in… whatever this is, can you please just…” She waves her hand vaguely, eyes still sharply scanning her surroundings. “Go deal with it instead?”A beat of silence passes. The marionettes hang limply; the sun and moon darken against the sky.Shadow Milk flicks his cane up, and Black Raisin Cookie goes flying.She tumbles across the forest floor; needles and leaves stick from her hair as she scrambles to right herself, shouting another slew of creative curses as she reaches for her weapon.Pointless.The clearing is already empty. -- The cost of immortality comes with a price heavier than Shadow Milk has ever been willing to pay; it is, however, of some small comfort that sleep is not technically a requirement in his continued existence.Shadow Milk Cookie does not detest sleep – far from it. From the moment of his creation to his current miserable existence, there had always been peace to be found in its arms. To curl and warm himself beneath the sun’s rays, to cloak himself in blankets and burrow against the chilliest nights. When cursed with overwhelming knowledge, the chance to simply shut his eyes and slip away into temporary oblivion was a luxury he treasured dearly.Which is why it is now all the more annoying that it so viciously eludes him.There are still plenty of places to settle in – pleasant spots of darkness, warm patches of sun, comfortable beds in empty inn chambers. Shadow Milk tries them all, tossing and turning as he wills his eyes shut and grits his teeth. Waiting out his breath to settle, for forced darkness to take him and grant him some fleeting relief.It does not come.Silvery marionette strings dance beneath eyelids every time he tries; echoes of long-gone cackles reverberate in his dough every time Shadow Milk comes even close to slipping away. It always ends the same way – his heartbeat quickening, embers of rage sparking as that accursed vision flickers in shards across his mind. He tears off the darkness, the covers, sinks his claws into anything surrounding him in blind rage and rips.He finds a new spot. He tries again.He fails.There is only one location he hasn’t attempted, one location he is loathe to even spare a passing thought to. He’s well aware of the potential, the possibility of reprieve; his Soul Jam tingles knowingly every time he finds his mind drifting towards it, before viciously forcing his thoughts elsewhere. Yet no matter how hard he tries, no matter how desperately he tries to think of anything else, a sullen whisper of promise lingers in his ear.Their connection.While it may tip the pair of them into slumber every time, Shadow Milk has no intention of slinking back into Pure Vanilla’s arms for something so – trifling. So unnecessary. They’ll be forced back together sooner or later; there’s no need to rush it, not while his Soul Jam only pulses with longing, not pain.No, not longing. Irritation. Venom. Loathing. A familiar sting of a lie that had slipped right through his defenses, because once again, he’d wanted to believe it.Shadow Milk can’t run from it this time. He doesn’t have a choice.He returns to his room.He hasn’t been back in some time; aside from his initial swathe of destruction, there’d been little interest in returning aside from the occasional daytime nap. He toes a large piece of wood jutting out from the shattered remains of his dresser, floating across the scattered wreckage of what had once been a stately room. Broken scraps of furniture, shards of glass, the rotting corpses of long-wilted flowers all stare accusingly back at him from the floor.  This room, this gift, had once been beautiful, luxurious, welcoming. But, like so many other things, he’d destroyed it – and now all that remained was a scene of carnage, as if from a wild beast’s rampage.How fitting.The bed is still mostly intact; it lies on the ground, discarded from when he’d lowered it for his – guest, the last time. With a flick of Shadow Milk’s cane it thuds back against the ceiling, shaking briefly from the impact. He floats upwards, grabbing the sheets as they fall to wrap himself tight; when his back hits the mattress, Shadow Milk cranes his neck to stare emptily at the wreckage below as fatigue washes over him.How wretched it is to ache for reprieve, yet feel so unwilling to close his eyes.Minutes pass; Shadow Milk’s eyelids flutter weakly, closing tight only to re-open moments later. Unwelcome dread crawls through his mind with each swallow of darkness, a heavy weight on his chest. Even here, in the sanctity of the domain he’d carved out with his own claws, he is restless. Uneasy.His Soul Jam tingles as he brushes a hand over it; the sensation is anything but pleasant.The tingling sensation does not abate even after his hand withdraws; unfortunately, Shadow Milk is not given long to wonder why. As he tosses and turns, twisting the sheets this way and that, the sensation graduates to a flurry of electric sparks – his breath catches, eyes clenching shut as he exhales through gritted teeth. A sense of foreboding is itching at the back of his mind, as if some foul presence is bearing down upon him.
  Tap. Tap. Tap.
Ah. Well, he hadn’t been wrong.Shadow Milk’s hands twist in the sheets as the sound of Pure Vanilla’s staff carries in the darkness; the rhythmic beat echoes with the angry pulsing of his Jam. The other’s footfalls are the tolling of his death bell, a forewarning of what is to come as they slow and stop just outside the door.A knock. Gentle. Hesitant.“Shadow Milk?”A sharp exhale of breath; Shadow Milk says nothing, refusing to open his eyes. It is pointless to pretend – if he can feel Pure Vanilla’s presence this strongly through the door, the other already knows he is here.How had he known to come? Had their connection grown this strong, to be able to sense him from afar and come running to his side? Or was this routine? Had he simply come here every night on hope alone, knocking and waiting for an answer from an empty room?Another knock. “Shadow Milk?”He refuses to answer.A pause, silence reigning between them. “I’d like to speak with you.”Shadow Milk rolls his eyes behind closed lids. Of course. More talking. That’s all they do, all his life has become.The door handle turns – slowly, carefully. Shadow Milk can practically taste the hesitation radiating off the other as the door creaks open, light spilling in to ruin his perfect darkness. The tap of a staff, a single step forward as the door audibly creaks shut.Shadow Milk can feel the other’s eyes upon him – but as long as he keeps his own shut, as long as he makes not a single noise, all Pure Vanilla will see is a sheet-wrapped blur locked fast in slumber. Unconsciousness is an easy role to play, and Shadow Milk is nothing if not a perfect actor.“I know you’re awake.”Cr@p.Pure Vanilla’s staff taps loudly as he crosses the room; the careful footsteps, the scrapings of shattered wood being moved aside all grate on Shadow Milk’s ears. The other is not leaving; if anything, it sounds like he’s settling in for the long haul.“Shadow Milk.” Pure Vanilla’s voice is directly below him now. “Please. I need to speak with you.”A sigh, low and long. Shadow Milk still keeps his eyes shut, rolling onto his side to put half his back to the other. A clear dismissal. A hint that is impossible not to take.“I want to talk about what happened.”Shadow Milk rolls his eyes again; this time, he reluctantly cracks open a single lid, if only to send the obnoxious pest an irritable glare. “Seriously? I am trying to sleep here. Come back later. Or preferably, never.”“You’ve been avoiding me.” Pure Vanilla’s meeting his gaze, no trace of reluctance in his own. “This is the only chance I’ve had in days.”“I am not avoiding you.” Shadow Milk closes his eyes again, turning away as he tugs the sheets up to his chin. “I am uninterested in you. There’s far more to experience outside these disgustingly shiny walls than the poor company of a half-blind fool.”Pure Vanilla’s silence stretches; Shadow Milk can hear the rustle of his robes, as if the other’s shifting in place. Then, quietly:“Do you truly find me poor company?”Shadow Milk shrugs; he refuses to take the bait, refuses to bow to the melancholy pulse in his Soul Jam. “Hate to break it to you Nilly, but you’re not exactly the crowd-pleaser you think you are. I mean, asking for my time and then not even bothering to show up? Not exactly racking up the positive reviews here.”“I am sorry, Shadow Milk.” Pure Vanilla audibly takes a step forward. “I did not realize you would truly be waiting for me. I had thought you would not wish to see me.”“I don’t want to see you.” Shadow Milk re-opens his eyes, sitting up in bed so he can look Pure Vanilla dead in the eyes. “Is that not clear? I feel like I’ve made that pretty clear.”Pure Vanilla’s gaze is pained, his neck craned upwards as Shadow Milk glares down at him from above. “Why?”A simple question. One that Shadow Milk has, through several nights of eluded sleep, well prepared for.“I don’t want to play with you anymore.”Pure Vanilla’s gaze falters. “What?”“You’re boring.” Shadow Milk flips himself over in the air, righting himself so he can stare the other down properly. “I’m tired of you. Tired of the talking, and the feelings, and all your pathetic little games. You were and always have been a toy to me. And now? I’m done with you.”The silence that rings in his wake is deafening.Shadow Milk turns away immediately; whatever expression Pure Vanilla is making, he doesn’t want to see it. His arms fold across his chest, pressing tightly against his Soul Jam as it writhes, roars in his chest with displeasure. There is a chill, an ache that is clutching at his core, dragging it down into his stomach.It doesn’t matter. He ignores it.Nothing is said for – Shadow Milk doesn’t know how long. The clock that had laid in the corner remains smashed to pieces, its feeble hands slumped limply in disrepair. The only sound in Shadow Milk’s ears is his own, carefully measured breathing as he waits. Braces. Grits his teeth for the inevitable rebuttal, from this pesky, persistent, wretch of a-“Did I truly strike you?”Shadow Milk stills.“I have played that night over many times in my head.” Pure Vanilla’s voice is quiet, measured. “I could not – still cannot understand it. How I, with my bare hand, could possibly strike you with enough force to send you, of all Cookies, reeling. How I-” A pause. “How I could have possibly missed feeling such a hit myself, mirrored in our connection.”The sound of a step; Pure Vanilla is moving closer. “If I – if what you claim happened that night truly did, then I can only continue to apologize for my behavior. I have never wanted to raise a hand against you. I will make amends any way that I can, because that is not something you deserve.”
  Liar.
“But I know you are impulsive.” Another step. “And whether by my hand or another’s, you were hurt that night. So I want to ask you, here and now, one last time.”Shadow Milk grits his teeth; he can feel Pure Vanilla’s searching gaze on his back, burning on his dough.“Shadow Milk,” Pure Vanilla asks softly. “Did I truly strike you?”A silence that stretches on for far, far too long.“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Does it matter?” Shadow Milk folds his arms behind his back, lifting his gaze towards the cracked ceiling. “It doesn’t change anything I’ve said.”“It matters to me.” Pure Vanilla’s voice is revoltingly gentle. “I think it matters to you, too.”“It doesn’t,” Shadow Milk snaps, twisting around in the air. “None of this does. Not you, not that night. Aren’t you tired of this?” he continues, sudden heat rising into his voice. “Always so persistent, so stubborn about every little thing. You think I’m endeared by you chasing after my heels like some pathetic stray? I’ve already told you - I’m done with you.”“What happened?” Pure Vanilla’s gaze searches his own with frightening steadiness. “Why won’t you tell me?”“Nothing happened,” Shadow Milk hisses, hands balling into fists.“Then why were you clutching your Soul Jam?”Shadow Milk stiffens; his eyes narrow. “I wasn’t.”“You were.” Pure Vanilla’s hand reaches up, touching his own. “I told you – I have played that night over a thousand times in my mind. I remember your pain, along with a beat through our connection. I remember feeling as if we were briefly one, as if you were within me inside my mind.” A pause. “And I remember waking up from a terrible dream.”A quick snap of his head; Shadow Milk is turning away again, anger boiling in his jam. “You’re a half-blind old fool. You remember less than I’ve ever forgotten.”“I’m very attentive when it comes to you.”Oh, Shadow Milk is in no mood for cute little quips. “Get out.”“Why are you pushing me away?” Pure Vanilla is unflinching, boldly taking another step forward. “Whatever you glimpsed, it was only a dream.”Liar.Shadow Milk’s hands ball into fists. “I told you to get out.”“Tell me.” Pure Vanilla is at his back, staring up with a gaze Shadow Milk refuses to meet. “Why has it shaken you so? Why are you so convinced you must run from me?”Shadow Milk’s teeth grit, his Soul Jam trembling with liquid fire. Burning, pulsing, searing in his core.“Tell me,” Pure Vanilla repeats softly. “Which of us are you truly angry with right now?” The silence that follows is deafening. It crawls along Shadow Milk’s dough like rivulets of ice, seeping in as something dark and dangerous settles in his chest. Pure Vanilla’s presence is a flickering light, one that the darkness swiftly filling the room is all too eager to snuff out.“Shadow Milk?”Hesitance. A note of unease.“You know…” Shadow Milk’s own voice is strange in his ears, an unpleasant drawl that oozes like slime. “Something’s been bothering me.”Pure Vanilla audibly shifts behind him.“Ever since we started this little…” Shadow Milk clucks his tongue. “Cohabitation of ours, you’ve never once called me by my name.”“What?” Confusion. Curiosity. “Shadow Milk-”“Not that name.” Shadow Milk turns, arms behind his back as he gazes down at Pure Vanilla with an eerie smile. “My true name. The name that defines all that I am.”Pure Vanilla’s brows knit, a brief look of puzzlement – before realization dawns in those pathetically milky eyes.There it is.“See,” Shadow Milk continues, floating closer as he leans in. “I can’t help but think that’s the root of our problems. You, telling yourself sweet little lies, and trying to pretend you don’t see what’s right in front of you. I’ve said it before - you really should get more comfortable with those ugly truths you’re so fond of.”Pure Vanilla’s grip on his staff tightens; he holds Shadow Milk’s gaze but there is uneasiness in his stance, trepidation in his brow.“Go on.” Shadow Milk c@cks his head, a perfectly sculpted smile on his face. “Say it.”Silence; a swallow as Pure Vanilla stands his ground.“Say my name, Pure Vanilla Cookie.”A blink; shoulders squaring as Pure Vanilla intakes a breath.“Shadow Milk Cookie.”The claw that slams into the floor startles even Shadow Milk himself – his blurring vision slowly traces the appendage down lines of glistening black fur, twisting and trailing back to his own shoulder.Ah. It’s been a while.Pure Vanilla’s gaze has widened; Shadow Milk cranes his neck back, feeling his body twist and contort as pain and striking numbness intertwine in his limbs. His hands, massive and clawed, sink into the floor, cracking and sending shards of tiles scattering beneath his grasp. His teeth, bared in a snarl, elongate in a mouth, a snout that is far too long, too curved in wicked defiance. Bristling black fur spreads along his limbs as his back arcs with a sickening crack, head scraping the ceiling as his body fills a room far too small to contain him. Darkness itself oozes off his body, splattering to the ground in slimy pools of ink as he bears down upon that small, repulsive light still flickering before him.Shadow Milk opens his mouth wide, flashing rows upon rows of sickening fangs; he leans in, pressing the tip of his snout to the other’s chest.He can feel Pure Vanilla’s heartbeat, an erratic staccato stuttered along uneven breaths.“Say it,” Shadow Milk rasps; his voice fills the air with sickening force, shaking the room itself. “Say my name.”Pure Vanilla’s hands are clutched tight around his staff; his gaze is faltering, flickering between pathetic attempts at resolve and the fear Shadow Milk can all but taste rolling off him.Still, he is silent. Still, he does not move.Shadow Milk lunges forward, jaw unhinging; his maw surrounds Pure Vanilla on either side, a bear trap of fangs perfectly encircling the other in open threat. Hot, furious breath that ruffles the other’s hair as Pure Vanilla winces, drawing in on himself as Shadow Milk looms overhead.It would be so easy. A single snap of his jaws, one strong bite. Shadow Milk would be rid of him, rid of all of this. Just one bite. One little twitch.That’s all it would take.“SAY IT!” Shadow Milk snarls, slamming his claws to the floor. “SAY WHAT I AM!”Silence.Shadow Milk waits; jaw poised, muscles aching for release. There is nothing – not a whimper, not a gasp, not a cry of submission or fear. When he finally, finally tilts his head to cast a suspicious gaze down at the other, he finds Pure Vanilla still stood there, head bowed to the floor.He is trembling.The sight is foreign; Shadow Milk sharply pulls his head back, leaning away as a fresh storm of twisting blackness tears at his core. His lips curl with distaste; his gaze averts to the wreckage of the room, vision blurred by –Shadow Milk doesn’t know. He doesn’t want to know.“Get out.” There’s only one thing he’s certain of right now – the desire to have Pure Vanilla Cookie anywhere but here. Shadow Milk tosses his head to the side, his paws scraping against the floor as he begins turning away. His body is too large, too trapped in such a small space. The walls crack and splinter, his fur tugging from the friction-No. Not from the walls.There’s a hand clutching onto him.Shadow Milk rears back, a furious snarl on his lips – but Pure Vanilla’s grasp is firm, pulled up by the movement as the other clings to the fur on Shadow Milk’s chest with both hands. A shake, a vicious swing of Shadow Milk’s head as he tries to dislodge the other, crashing onto his side as the room quakes from the impact. A desperate gasp rips from his throat at the feeling of a hand grabbing at his brooch, his brooch-A touch, firm and unrelenting as Shadow Milk howls his defiance.It is too late.Clink.'
User: Do they kiss?
User: Do they kiss?
Assistant: