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Assistant: Title: Jambound
        Author: Anonymous undefined 
        Chapter: 9/32 
        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 9
    

    


  

  
  
    
    Shadow Milk doesn’t return to the castle right away.While Pure Vanilla’s attempt at a command had long been discarded, it isn’t ire that keeps Shadow Milk away. When they’d spoken the next morning, Pure Vanilla had, by all accounts, accepted Shadow Milk’s refusal to return with grace – he had simply sipped at his breakfast tea, no show of resistance. It had only been the subtle tightening of his shoulders that had left Shadow Milk, begrudgingly, softening his denial to a ‘not yet’; the smile he’d received in return had felt genuine.After that Pure Vanilla had left, returning home with a soft farewell lingering in the air while Shadow Milk -Shadow Milk has gone exploring.There’s a curiosity, an idle intrigue in drifting through the shadows of the kingdom as he passes through lands he’s not touched in millennia. He spends his days simply observing, watching Cookies go about their daily routine. It’s all a bit boring, but it’s still new, still more than just castle walls or the ceaseless void of a tree’s trunk. They’re simple Cookies, living simple lives, little more than bit players on his grand stage – yet strangely content with their lot in life.Deluded with the sweet little lie that their spectacularly fleeting lives have purpose or meaning.The younger Cookies carry an unsettling sort of mystique to them; words Shadow Milk has never heard in his life are traded back and forth with alarming rapidity. He knows he’s been away a while but their fashion, their mannerisms – even the way they style their hair is so bizarre to him.Such an odd, perverse fascination with the eighteenth letter of the Grecookian alphabet. Some sort of scholarly inside-joke?The days Shadow Milk spends in the shadows, watching the world he once knew crawl by; the nights he spends beneath the stars. There’s an odd peacefulness to the skies above the Vanilla Kingdom, a tranquility barely disturbed by even the coldest gust of wind. High above the treetops, Shadow Milk will find himself lounging on his back in mid-air, arms behind his head as he watches the stars slowly drift through space.He hadn’t had a good view of the sky from his prison within the tree. The small cracks in its wood, the fleeting glimpses through silver chains had been little more than hazy outlines of far-away Faerie Cookies and their detestable, shining forest. No one had come close enough to truly see or hear in full – no one had dared to.The only face he remembers clearly is Elder Faerie Cookie’s cold, remorseless stare - and that is a memory better left forgotten.Three moons rise and set as Shadow Milk wanders the land. There’s no aim to his journey, no set course he’s on. Each night he feels the tug of his Soul Jam calling him back; each night he ignores it, drinking in crisp air and free, open skies.It’s strange, looking back – he’s never really taken in the world like this, not after his escape from confinement. The miserable little Faerie Cookies, rebuilding his spire, reclaiming his physical form – all had taken precedence, a script to stick to as he pulled the strings of his puppets along.Shadow Milk Cookie has never been one for prolonged quiet, but the taste of complete freedom melts sweetly on his tongue.Almost complete, anyway.By the fourth night, the pull is nigh irresistible; Shadow Milk finds his head unconsciously turning again and again towards the castle’s distant silhouette. The restlessness is back, a persistent itch beneath his dough. Shadow Milk toys with his own endurance, pretending it’s nothing more than a passing urge – even as he drifts closer and closer to the Vanilla Kingdom’s walls.When he reaches the castle’s looming towers, the pulse is a drumbeat in his ears. It burns beneath his dough, dances along the lines of his jam in electric sparks.There is only muted surprise to find Pure Vanilla waiting out on his balcony, staring up into the sky.Their eyes lock the moment Shadow Milk melds into view; a beat of silence, each gaze searching the other as the connection thrums in a deafening song. Pure Vanilla spreads his arms wide in a beckoning embrace, the softest of smiles upon his lips.Shadow Milk’s ego demands hesitation, refusal, a greater show of submission.His body is already wrapped in the other’s arms.Clink.By the time Shadow Milk’s consciousness finally filters back in, it’s to the feeling of cold stone floors against his hips and a peculiar warmth on his cheek. They’re still on the balcony – hadn’t even made it inside, how humiliating – with Pure Vanilla on his back and Shadow Milk half-draped atop him, arms folded and cheek resting against the other’s chest. Dimly, Shadow Milk notes there’s a gentle hand stroking through his hair; he flicks his groggy gaze up, finds Pure Vanilla’s hazy eyes looking back.Judging by the other’s vacant expression, Pure Vanilla feels just as blissed out as he does.Perhaps four days had been pushing it.The hand in Shadow Milk’s hair trails downward, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. Pure Vanilla’s watching him through half-lidded eyes, his head lolling slightly to the side. There’s a contented sigh, a low exhale that Shadow Milk can feel with the rise and fall of the other’s chest.Pure Vanilla’s dough is warm against his cheek.“Did you have fun?”An inane question, and one Shadow Milk is far too disoriented to answer. He offers a half-grunt in reply; the hand on his neck resumes its ministrations, rubbing small circles against his nape.“I missed you.”Again, not something worth replying to. Another grunt gets him a gentle squeeze on his shoulder; Shadow Milk buries his face deeper into the other’s chest. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care that it’s Pure Vanilla he’s resting against, doesn’t care that it’s just the afterglow of their connection making him feel half-melted into the floor. He just wants to lie there forever, letting the cold night air soothe the fevered feeling in his jam.There’s gentle pat on his back. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”Shadow Milk groans loudly in open protest; all he gets for his troubles is a soft laugh and a gentle squeeze.He doesn’t really focus on much after that; there’s some shuffling of limbs, some dragging and lifting as he slumps limply, petulantly in the other’s arms. He is gradually, carefully manhandled over to the bed – something Shadow Milk only hazily takes notice of when there’s sheets being tucked up to his chin. He grumbles, still protesting the treatment as the covers lift and Pure Vanilla settles in next to him.“Yes, yes.” An amused chuckle, the feeling of Pure Vanilla’s hand brushes through his hair. “Go back to sleep.”Shadow Milk’s eyes flutter, the instinctive pull to disobey sparking briefly before being smothered by his own fatigue.Four days really had been pushing it.“Oh,” Pure Vanilla remarks and why, why is he still talking? “I should mention – the staff has returned.”If Shadow Milk had the energy to roll his eyes, he would. Why is this something Pure Vanilla thinks he cares about?Shadow Milk turns on his side, putting his back to the other; his eyes slip shut in full as pleasant darkness overtakes his senses. There’s a flicker of – something, the weight in the bed shifting slightly, the gentlest brush of touch to his cheek that registers before Shadow Milk’s consciousness slips away in full. It had almost felt like -No.He must have imagined it. -- Of all the ways Shadow Milk had expected to start his next day, the slamming of doors and three high-pitched voices startling him to wakefulness is not one of them. He all but bolts upright in bed, vision glazed and disoriented; a series of rapid blinks and a sharp shake of his head follows in an attempt to clear it. He rubs at his eyes, turning his head towards the source of the noise-To find three identically sized, identically shaped Cookies dragging Pure Vanilla Cookie out of the bed.They’re – small. Smaller than Cuccidati Cookie, all dressed in the same frilled smock, all with black hair done up in matching twin ponytails. They look – no, must be triplets, with not a scrap of difference between them, save for a single, alternating streak of color in each of their bangs.White. Brown. Pink.“Come on, up, up!” The one with pink in her hair is clapping her hands sharply in front of Pure Vanilla’s face. “Sir, you’ve got a busy day! No lollygagging!”Pure Vanilla lets out a soft murmur of his own, completely unintelligible. The other two give a sharp tug, hauling him out of the bed in full – Shadow Milk sits there, staring blankly as the three usher the man over to the mirrored dresser. They tug him down, forcing him to sit – the one with the brown streak picks up the brush, immediately getting to work while the one with white hurries over to the wardrobe and flings it open.“Come on, let’s keep it moving!” The pink one’s bustling around Pure Vanilla in circles, tugging at the sleeves of his bedclothes. “Off! Nilla, hurry up with his robes!”“Here.” The other Cookie – Nilla? – returns with a fresh bundle of clothes in her arms, all neatly stacked and pressed. “Choca, have you seen his crown?”“Table.” The one with the brown in her hair is still dutifully brushing through Pure Vanilla’s flowing locks, tutting as she does. “Goodness, so many tangles. This was so much easier before.”“Thanks. Fresa-”“Yes, yes. Go grab his tea.” The pink – Fresa, Shadow Milk’s getting the hang of this – dismisses her sister with a sharp wave of her hand. “He’ll be useless all day without it.” She then reaches up, snagging her hands around Pure Vanilla’s collar, yanking it down-Shadow Milk’s mouth drops, quickly averting his eyes as Pure Vanilla is disrobed right in front of him.There’s more chattering, more back and forths that Shadow Milk tunes out as he dutifully stares at the ceiling. By the time he dares to glance back again, Pure Vanilla is fully dressed; he even has a steaming cup of tea in hand that he languidly sips at as the three usher him towards the door. “Come on!” Fresa’s got him by the hand, tugging him forward as her sisters push at his back. “You’re already seven minutes late. Stop dawdling!”Pure Vanilla’s eyes are still closed, the scarcest of fluttering as he glances backwards and offers Shadow Milk a small, sleepy smile – before he’s abruptly shoved through the doorway and out of sight.Shadow Milk continues to stare, disbelief swirling in his mind as the other two Cookies sweep from the room – until the white-haired one, Nilla, stops in her tracks. She swivels, meeting Shadow Milk’s surprised stare head-on as she openly looks him up and down with a considering gaze.Her brow then perks, giving Shadow Milk the most blatantly judgmental look he’s ever seen in his life.Then she turns on her heels, swiftly shutting the door behind her and leaving Shadow Milk alone and utterly baffled in the now-silent room.Perhaps he should have just stayed in the forest. -- Turns out the staff returning is something Shadow Milk cares about.A lot.The castle, once a maze of empty, echoing corridors, is now bursting with life. Shadow Milk’s favorite shadowy nooks are gone, obliterated by curtains being thrown wide and Cookies flitting to and fro mopping, decorating, dusting. Everywhere he turns there is a new set of eyes on him, new faces that either regard him with idle wonder or quickly avert when he snaps his own baleful gaze to them. They curtsey, they bow, they hurriedly duck out of his way as he floats through the hallways with increasing agitation.Sure, he knew Pure Vanilla’s castle would house some servants – but isn’t this a little too much for an abdicated king?“It’s not really for me.” Shadow Milk had found Pure Vanilla several hours later in his study, bent over his paperwork with that same mug of tea in hand. “There’s a lot of hosting that goes on here. Governors and mayors from different provinces, townsfolk, whomever. They hold all sorts of political conferences almost daily. I think the location helps increase the significance of the meetings in their eyes. I’ve been told there’s a sign-up sheet somewhere.”“Isn’t this your house?”“I don’t mind.” Pure Vanilla shrugs one shoulder, eyes still glued to his papers. “I only need the one room.”“Hm.” Shadow Milk’s gaze drops to the other’s mug; the tea inside looks ice-cold, the dregs already beginning to solidify. “Have you even eaten anything today?”Pure Vanilla blinks, looking up. “What?”“I said,” Shadow Milk sneers, “I would appreciate a little more warning next time. I deserve better than to have three little hellions scampering about the moment I open my big, beautiful eyes. What, you get them in a three-for-one mini-pack special?”“The Neapolitan sisters?” Pure Vanilla c@cks his head, smiling. “They were all baked from the same cut of dough; not a lot of it left over to make all three, so they say. Don’t let their size fool you, though. They’re quite skilled. I rely on them heavily.”“So I saw.” Shadow Milk perks a brow. “They undressed you.”“I’m a bit slow in the mornings.” Pure Vanilla takes another sip of his ice-cold tea. “They’re just doing their job. It’s no different than a doctor’s office.”“Bit lazy, are we?”“Perhaps,” Pure Vanilla hums back.Shadow Milk twirls his cane; he floats in circles, twisting in the air above Pure Vanilla’s head. “Bad luck for you, though. I’m sure it’s alllll over the castle by now.”“Hm?” Pure Vanilla glances up at him. “What is?”“Those three seeing another Cookie in your bed.” Shadow Milk grins ear to ear, fanning himself with a roll of his eyes. “How scandalous for their once- sorry, never great king.”“Doubtful.” Pure Vanilla returns his gaze to the paper, narrowly missing Shadow Milk’s scowl. “The sisters are discreet. It’s never been an issue before.”Shadow Milk scoffs – then pauses, as Pure Vanilla’s words replay in his mind. “Wait, what?”“Hm?”“What do you mean, before?” Shadow Milk pivots in the air, hovering face to face with the other. “What, like they’ve caught other Cookies in your bed?”Pure Vanilla lifts his gaze for a fraction of a second; he perks his brow, then immediately lowers his head back to his work.Shadow Milk gasps, a hand flying to his chest. “No! Oh, you’ve got to be pulling my leg!”“I didn’t say anything,” Pure Vanilla replies mildly.“To think a single Cookie could find your presence that tolerable without a chain around their soul.” Shadow Milk flips over in the air, folding his legs beneath him. “Come on, you gotta tell me. How many’s it been? One? Two?”Pure Vanilla lifts his mug, taking a slow sip of his tea.“Come on.” Shadow Milk floats forward, tapping the other’s forehead with his cane. “Tell me, tell me! You know I can’t resist some juicy bits of gossip. It’s so rare that you’re actually interesting.”“I would think,” Pure Vanilla remarks, setting his cup back on the desk, “that the most sophisticated Cookie in all the lands would know it’s improper to kiss and tell.”“So there was kissing and telling!” Shadow Milk ducks his head, grinning ear to ear as he leans in to block Pure Vanilla’s view. “My, my, my! Who knew you had it in you?”“You already knew that I have descendants.” Pure Vanilla’s expression remains annoyingly neutral, a picture of placid calm as he meets Shadow Milk’s gaze. “And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”Shadow Milk sticks out his tongue; Pure Vanilla lifts his quill, tapping the protruding appendage with its tip. As Shadow Milk rears back and sputters, Pure Vanilla continues: “I’d like to connect with you again tonight.”A scowl as Shadow Milk wipes at his tongue. “Huh? Why?”“You were gone quite a while.” Pure Vanilla’s quill has lowered back to the page, scratching out his signature on a series of documents. “It was… more intense, than usual. If you’re planning on leaving again, I’d like to stabilize our bond before you go.”Shadow Milk scoffs. “Who said I’m leaving?”“Who said you’re staying?”A beat of silence; Shadow Milk’s eyes narrow as Pure Vanilla keeps his gaze lowered, scribbling across his pages. “Trying to get rid of me?” he challenges.Pure Vanilla dabs his quill back in the ink. “Not at all. I told you that I’d missed you.”Shadow Milk scoffs again, shrugging a careless shoulder. He knows what this is – a trap. A sneaky little way of Pure Vanilla scouting out his intentions. “Nice try.”“Is it?”Gods, he’s annoying.“I’ll go wherever I want.” Shadow Milk folds his arms behind his head, stretching out his lower back. “That’s all you’ll get from me. Maybe I’m going, maybe I’m staying.”Pure Vanilla hums to himself. “Then my request remains unchanged.”“Huh?”Pure Vanilla sets his papers down, folding his hands together as he looks at Shadow Milk straight-on. “I’d like to connect with you again tonight.”Shadow Milk stares back at him; there’s a strange twisting in his chest, a warped smile working its way onto his face as he subtly averts his eyes. “Sheesh! Gotten bold, have we? I know I’m a catch, but aren’t you being a bit needy?”“I’ve heard,” Pure Vanilla replies, pushing himself up from his desk, “that it’s better to ask for things directly. It is a habit I have long neglected throughout my life, to the continued detriment of myself and others.”“So, what?” Shadow Milk twirls his cane, perking a brow. “You’re gonna go around just asking for every stupid little thing you want now?”“Not at all. I’m still quite terrible at it.” Pure Vanilla picks up his staff, raising his gaze with a smile. “But I’m also finding that when it comes to you, being direct is the only path forward.”Shadow Milk scowls. “And if I still say no?”Pure Vanilla tilts his head with a look of polite incredulity.A sigh; Shadow Milk rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. My choice. You’ve made that obnoxiously clear, you know that?”“Good. I’d hoped to.” Pure Vanilla’s staff taps audibly on the floor as he crosses the room. “I have a meeting in a few minutes I’ve been asked to sit in on that’ll likely last the rest of the day. You’re welcome to join me later in the evening when I tend to the sheep, if you’d like.”“Oh, a sheep day? Wonderful.” Shadow Milk scrunches his face in disgust. “Can’t wait for you to get the scent of dung all over my Soul Jam again.”Pure Vanilla perks a brow. “So that’s a yes to the connection tonight?”Cr@p. Another trap.Shadow Milk turns away, scoffing audibly for effect. “Eh, who knows? It’s no fun if I can’t keep you guessing.”“Well,” Pure Vanilla remarks, “either way, I’ll return to my room in the evening. Should you care to join me, I’d be more than happy to have dinner sent up for the pair of us.”“Hm.” Shadow Milk turns back around, one hand on his hip. “What’s in it for me?”“We could play a game. I’d like a rematch at chess, if you’re willing.”Shadow Milk folds his arms across his chest. “And what do I get when I win?”Pure Vanilla smiles. “You’ll have to come and see.” A pause, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “After all, it’s no fun if I can’t keep you guessing.”And with that Pure Vanilla is sweeping from the room, the echoing taps of his staff slowly fading down the corridor. Shadow Milk scowls at the place where the other had stood, fresh irritation prickling through his jam. He glances backward; a swift flick of his cane summons a burst of wind, sending neatly-stacked piles of paperwork scattering to the floor.Better. --The rest of the afternoon passes slowly.There’s far too many Cookies about for Shadow Milk’s taste, too many servants and dignitaries and alarmingly bushy mustaches bristling back and forth everywhere he turns. The slim shadows along the ceilings of brightly lit halls make for poor vantage points; there’s hardly any fun in twisting carpets out from underfoot if Shadow Milk has to peer and squint to glimpse their gasps of shock. He reverses gravity a few times – always a crowd pleaser – but even that loses its charm after watching what feels like the hundredth squawking dignitary flail about in the air.He snags an apple from the kitchen, leaving behind the startled shrieks of the workers as their spaghetti rears up and roars, and slips from crack to crack through the upper echelons of the castle. A few bites of his apple, a considering hum as he drifts through the gentle black. With little else left to do, the lingering proposal of crushing Pure Vanilla at yet another game of chess does hold some small amount of appeal –Not that he’ll be telling the other that.When Shadow Milk resurfaces within the other’s room, it’s to an empty chamber. A quick glance outside confirms that the sun is well on its way past the horizon; if Pure Vanilla had intended to return by evening, he’s well on his way to the cusp of night. Unfortunately, his lack of presence led to one unfortunate conclusion –He's still with the sheep.Gross.As Shadow Milk begrudgingly drifts towards the open window, a stray breeze wafts past his face, fluttering the curtains and the papers strewn across Pure Vanilla’s desk. Shadow Milk’s gaze drifts to the latter – a dull spark of curiosity flickers in his chest. There’s likely to be little of interest among the letters, just tedious documents and proposals for the other to scribble through. Though, on the off-chance there was even a scrap of something more-Well. It’s not like Pure Vanilla’s here to stop him.Shadow Milk floats over to the desk; a flick of his cane and the papers spring up, circling around his head as his eyes scan sharply over the letterheads. A request for a new bridge, an engagement announcement, some drivel about road repair – nothing of interest, all about as boring as expected. Shadow Milk glances over a few more letters, raising his cane in preparation to discard them – when a blackened wax seal catches his eye.The symbol of the Dark Cacao Kingdom stares back at him.Shadow Milk snatches the envelope from mid-air; the rest of the papers tumble to the floor as Shadow Milk deftly tears through the seal, dropping the letter into his open palm. A hasty unfolding, a wicked grin as Shadow Milk yanks the paper towards his face –It’s four sentences long.The grin fades almost immediately, replaced by a disbelieving scowl as Shadow Milk scans the letter thrice. He’d known Dark Cacao Cookie was curt, sure – his second-least favorite of Pure Vanilla’s merry band of fools – but this was…Nothing.Nothing of any substance, no secrets or whispers of anger to fan. It’s a blunt greeting, the briefest synopsis of the Dark Cacao Kingdom’s current affairs, and a signature. Seriously, just a signature. Not a thinking of you, not a farewell, just a simple signature and three-fourths of the rest of the page left blank.Shadow Milk’s eyes threaten to roll fully back in his head.Still, after a moment of frustrated steaming, a begrudging thought occurs. Even if Dark Cacao Cookie is about as interesting as a wooden board, Shadow Milk can still use the letter to his advantage. A flick of his wrist and a cerulean quill materializes in his hand; he puts the tip to paper, tongue protruding slightly as he narrows his eyes in concentration.A few crass remarks here… a declaration of war there… finishing it all off with a nice little paragraph about ceding the kingdom to Shadow Milk Cookie. He signs his own name, adding a little doodle of his winking face to the bottom before folding the letter into a new envelope and snatching a stamp from the desk to smack to the top. Shadow Milk hums happily to himself as he slips the letter right into the middle of Pure Vanilla’s Send pile, dusting off his hands as he floats backwards and grins.There. That should spice up their next round of correspondence nicely.His mischief finished, Shadow Milk steps out from the window, soaring through the air as he makes his way down to the stables. The evening air is pleasantly cool on his face, a brisk reprieve from stale castle air. Even with the plush comforts of his ivory tower, he’s finding he appreciates the sight of the sky more and more with each passing day.While the trip itself isn’t terribly long, the first vestiges of night have firmly settled over the horizon by the time Shadow Milk alights in the pasture. The sheep are milling about; some try to sniff at his heels as he glides over them, one tries to nip at his shoe. Yet among all of them and their putrid scent, there’s a distinct lack of Pure Vanilla anywhere to be seen.There is, however, a single lamp lit at the far end of the stables - which is precisely where Shadow Milk heads next.The sight that greets him is somehow decidedly unsurprising.A large, golden haystack is heaped in the corner of the barn; slumped against it is Pure Vanilla himself, half-curled into a ball and clutching his staff with eyes fluttered shut. There’s a small lamb curled at his feet, dozing beside its master – Shadow Milk has to resist the urge to roll his eyes.How picturesque.As amusing as it is to see the once-king slumbering in the hay, Shadow Milk isn’t a fan of standing around near sheep dung all night. He drifts forward, reaching out to try and jostle the other’s shoulder –A whimper cuts through the quiet.It’s so soft, so strangled that Shadow Milk doesn’t register it for a moment; his hand stills, gaze flicking upwards in confusion to Pure Vanilla’s face.There’s a visible strain, a tight furrowing of Pure Vanilla’s brow. His body is fully tensed, wracked by a sharp shudder that seems almost reflexive as Shadow Milk stares incredulously at him. Pure Vanilla’s hands tighten around his staff; his head jerks with some aborted motion as if trying to unconsciously dislodge something from his face.Another slow, full-body shudder and Shadow Milk blinks in wonder – before a small, amused smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.The great and noble Pure Vanilla Cookie is having a bad dream.Shadow Milk’s smile deepens as he leans in, prodding at the other’s shoulder with a snort. “Hey,” he whispers, all grins. “Hey, Nilly.” Another poke. “Hey-”Pure Vanilla shifts suddenly, throwing himself to the side with a sharp groan; Shadow Milk’s hand is carried along by the movement, his palm smacking against the other’s chest – a brush, quick and fleeting, against Pure Vanilla’s Soul Jam.In a single gasp, Shadow Milk’s world is ripped out from under him.He’s surrounded by darkness – not calm, not gentle. It churns around him, shoving at him as he stumbles, pulling on his limbs and forcing him to the ground. He scrambles to right himself, finding no purchase, struggling for air that is punched from him with each shuddering gasp.His arms fly up above his head, pulled taught by invisible strings; he is hoisted aloft, dangling and twisting helplessly in the air as the wires bite painfully into his dough. An ugly, wicked cackle reverberates through the darkness, deafening in its cruelty. He squeezes his eyes shut; trying to block out the pain, the noise, the fear-“Ah, ah, ah! Eyes open, now!”Hideous, sneering laughter – his eyelids forced open, forced to view an enormous mouth full of sharp, pointed teeth grinning back at him. The sight is revolting, nauseating to his core; another laugh, a vicious tug to his strings as he’s rocked to and fro, slumped over like a helpless marionette.“Aw!” the hideous voice coos. “Wake up, Dollface! No tapping out on me now!” The grin leans closer, a puff of putrid air on his dough.“We’re not done playing yet, Silly Vanilly.”The vision shatters like glass; Shadow Milk throws himself backwards with a hoarse gasp, slamming his side into a wooden beam as he tumbles to the floor. He grips at his chest, curled in the dirt as breaths coming in sharp, shuddering shakes. His eyes swim dangerously, still flitting between the fading cracks of realities.A few feet away, movement stirs in the hay pile. A soft groan, the soft crunch of straw breaking under shifting weight. The sounds of rustling fabric; Pure Vanilla sitting up, rubbing at his eyes with a tired yawn.“Mmm…” A yawn, followed by the pleased strain of a voice in mid-stretch. A pause. “Shadow Milk?”Shadow Milk doesn’t look behind him; his hands are still clenched around his Soul Jam, still fighting to regain his breath. He can feel the other’s gaze upon him, shoulders tensing as the hay crunches with new movement.“Shadow Milk?” Pure Vanilla’s voice carries new urgency; there’s hurried footsteps, a shadow cast as Pure Vanilla kneels beside him. “Shadow Milk, are you alright?”
  Liar.
The thought is delirious, spinning around Shadow Milk’s head as he grits his teeth, forcing his furious breathing to slow.
  Liar, liar, liar.
“Shadow Milk?”A gentle touch to his cheek; Shadow Milk takes in his final gulp of air.“Geez, Nilly!” Shadow Milk smacks the hand away; he rolls on his back, beaming up at the other with his trademark grin. “You pack quite a punch!”Pure Vanilla pulls back, startled. “I- what?”Shadow Milk slips out from under him, melding briefly into the shadows to reappear above the other’s head. “Guess it’s true what they say!” He shrugs his shoulders with practiced ease, smile firmly in place. “Let sleeping dogs lie! Or, in your case, half-crumbled old fools. Gotta say, wasn’t expecting the right-hook! Bravo! Points for the twist!”“Right-hook?” Pure Vanilla reaches up, touching his chest in concern. “I- struck you?”“Don’t worry about it,” Shadow Milk replies easily. “I was just minding my own business, giving my good ol’ pal a few wake-up shakes. Just didn’t think you’d startle so badly! Who knew you had it in you, hm? Applause, applause!”Pure Vanilla’s brows furrow with concern; his mouth dips into a small frown, gaze dropping downwards. “My… apologies. I didn’t…” A blink before he looks up again. “I did not mean to strike you, Shadow Milk. That is never something I wish to do.”“I said, don’t worry about it.” Shadow Milk loops lazily in the air, rightening himself to fold his arms behind his back. “Maybe I deserved it, hm?”Pure Vanilla’s frown instantly deepens; he takes a step forward, eyes sharp. “You don’t.”
  Liar.
“Calm down!” Shadow Milk shrugs his shoulders again, all grin, all cheeky little amusement. “Hey, c’mon, why the long face? I thought we were going to play games tonight! No fun if you’re looking all sour and dour, buddy!”“Shadow Milk-”“Tell you what.” Shadow Milk motions behind him. “I’ll race you. Last one to the castle eats the first rook, m’kay?”“Shadow-!”Whatever Pure Vanilla replies is lost in a whirl of darkness-Shadow Milk Cookie is already gone.'
User: Do they kiss?
User: Do they kiss?
Assistant: