#CACAO WATCH OUT

[skyl3m0n]

bassie. Your beautiful no matter what.

Also yes to the Christmas tree wings

Also cacoa.. look behind u

SS! Aftermath au!

Holiday toon doodles

(Reblogs greatly appreciated!)

[coffit0]

The Dark Cacao citizens NEED a break omg

[skyxiiocrkblog]

Uhh yeah aroace Dark Cacao is real

[pastelshroomsbasement]

"Devoured by desire

It's the fate of life

Oh, you don't want it? You're a liar

Oh, so you wanna be a god?

You pray for power in the dark

Don't mistake this for an omen

This is your chance to be chosen"

-GØD by KiNG MALA

[the-resolution-of-the-dragonlord]

((Ooc: you are the silly, how does mod feel about burningcacao.))

WUH. HELLLOOOO I actually love BurningCacao it's one of my favorite ships

[alienssstufff]

What server you on in CRK? Maybe we can be friends 👀 (I'm on Dark Cacao)

*looks forlornly into the distance*

Hollyberry🚬………..

[cuppajj]

Writing beast ancients au is sweating figuring out how you’re supposed to make its causality make sense with the canon in the middle of devsis dropping the biggest ancient stories of all time

[cookie-run-haven]

And yes I'm going to complain about the chapters when I feel better and I'm on the computer

[speed-world]

Hello, im a fan of the self aware scenario you did with the coward y/n cookie, and I was wondering what their reactions would be of meeting the beast cookies

To be honest, you had no interest in going to Beast-Yeast, at all. After all, why would you? Whatever conflict the Ancients and other cookies had with each other didn’t concern you, not to mention that just the name - “Beast-Yeast” - already freaked you out.

If it weren’t for Pure Vanilla Cookie promising that your safety, due to the agreement between the Ancients and Dark Enchantress Cookie, you would’ve stayed comfortably in the Cookie Kingdom far away from the other continent.

You wish you never listened to Pure Vanilla now, because this beast - Shadow Milk Cookie - immediately wanted to make you run far, far away.

The jester scared you with his sinister and maniacal behavior. If you had a fear of clowns before entering the cookie world, then you’d pass out the more his actions continued.

After seeing the mental turmoil Pure Vanilla was experiencing, the loss of Elder Faerie Cookie, Shadow Milk’s terrifying powers and his “plays” that were mockeries of all the adversaries of the Beasts—the color blue might be your most hated now.

Yeah, you’d be completely fine and dandy if you never saw a hint of Shadow Milk’s Cookie ever again

However, he couldn’t stand to think of this meeting being your last…

How were you convinced to go back to Beast-Yeast a second time?? Suppose you can be grateful for that promise with the Ancients and Dark Enchantress Cookie.

You actually really liked the Ivory Pagoda. The atmosphere was so serene and otherworldly, and warmly inviting…or dangerously alluring.

The company of Dark Cacao Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie, Crunchy Chip Cookie, and the Cacao warriors made this trip a whole lot more comfortable and relaxing. However, their presence couldn’t make things better when you finally came face to face with the other Beast - Mystic Flour Cookie.

You thought the slow creepiness of Cloud Haetae Cookie would be the worst of your problems, but at least the story they told was directed to the Ancient instead of you.

The second you saw that spider pop out of that cocoon, your soul ascended to the crossroads. Your body went so pale that Dark Cacao thought you succumbed to the pale ailment.

You really couldn’t articulate how much Mystic Flour scared you. Shadow Milk was insane, but this?! She’s so uncaring, so unrelenting in her belief of apathy, is it too late to stay with Peach Blossom Cookie for the rest of this journey?

Let’s not even get started on that face. You hated any related horror stuff in the real world, and now you’re seeing that in front of your face!!

Yeah no, forget this. Awesome job on Dark Cacao awakening, time to get on the first airship outta this place.

As much as you wanted to be as far away from Mystic Flour Cookie as possible, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Stared at by a force that you couldn’t look back at, no matter how hard you tried….

Hell. To the freaking. NO

Naaaaaah Golden Cheese Cookie, she’s crazy if she thinks you’re going to accompany her to Beast-Yeast. Promise be damned, they clearly didn’t account for the mental pain that you’ve suffered through.

Smoked Cheese Cookie seemed dead serious on agreeing with you, but Golden Cheese wouldn’t take no for an answer. You decided to stick close to Smoked Cheese, because the Beast is only focused on Golden Cheese after all, right?

Had it not been for the presence of Golden Cheese and Smoked Cheese, you wouldn’t have even thought of coming to this place. It’s hotter than a truck engine in the summer, a lot of these Spice cookies are pretty hostile, and—Oh God the sandstorms are the crumbs of dead cookies?!?????!

And then, you met him-Burning Spice Cookie. He’s already scary to look at, so you just hid your face whenever you saw or heard him.

His power is also way too scary-he doesn’t care about any collateral damage caused, heck he probably loves if there’s more of it! Smoked Cheese spent his time making sure that not even a crumb of you were harmed during the fight of Golden Cheese and Burning Spice.

You weren’t sure what freaked you out more: Nutmeg Tiger Cookie’s unwavering devotion to such a being like Burning Spice, or the fact that Burning Spice Cookie does all that he does…for entertainment.

All the death, destruction, suffering he causes, everything, all for a cheap laugh?! Why-why again did you ever come here?!?

To make matters worse? Smoked Cheese and Golden Cheese were locked away in a cage. But you? No, Burning Spice didn’t want you in confinement.

He found it much more amusing to have you by his side, attached to his hip and sitting on his lap.

Your soul departs each time he speaks, your breath is taken away when he breaks something, because you’re scared that it might be you he breaks next. Seeing him be so casual and collected after crushing Cilantro Cobra Cookie in front of your face was what set you over the edge.

You were panicking, screaming, tossing around. You wanted to leave now, no ifs, ands, or buts. You can’t take this anymore and-…

He-he’s staring at you….he’s in the middle of his second round fight with Golden Cheese Cookie, and he’s staring. Right. At. You.

You were eternally grateful for Smoked Cheese Cookie being so understanding, and being so quick in trying to get you out of this God forsaken continent.

But even as you were getting away, you heard his laugh. You know Golden Cheese struck him down, but you heard his faint sinister laugh; virtually paralyzing you in place.

Please, for your sake, can you never come back to Beast-Yeast ever again?!?

…

…

Where did this ticket come from?

[thesparkledash]

Corrupted Dark Cacao AU [Tea Party for the Fallen page 7-8]

Btw, someone made a dub of the fist chapter, so please check it out! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t5hwG-QOGTw

First Previous Next

[minolikeswords]

What the Ancients would call you- Sfw headcanons <3 GN reader!

Including: Golden Cheese, White Lily, Pure Vanilla, Dark Cacao and Hollyberry

cw: none tbh, it’s very fluffy!! Reader is implied to be a fighter in PV’s! Brief mention of Black Raisin, Caramel Arrow, and Wildberry cookie, reader is implied to have shoulder length hair in golden cheese’s. Reader and Hollyberry are married <3 Hollyberry is referred to as Holly a couple times!

Mino’s notes: I absolutely adore DC cookie, him and golden cheese are my favourites <3

© minolikeswords do not translate, copy, or repost my work to other platforms.

Golden Cheese!

- Adores calling you “darling” in private or near close friends, but when addressing you formally, prefers using “my Grace.”

“I have to say, the gold suits you rather well, darling,” Golden Cheese mutters against the back of your neck, making you close your eyes and sigh as she moves your hair out of the way to fasten a rather intricate golden necklace. Her slender fingers working quickly to close the knot off as she smiles at your reaction.

You roll your eyes and lean into her touch, gazing up at her and grabbing her face in your hands as you kiss her cheek, “you spoil me, my Queen.” Her eyes twinkled in delight as she grabbed your palm and kissed the tips of your fingers.

“You’re worth it.”

White Lily!

- She is so shy when speaking about you. Usually refers to you as “love” or “sweetie.” Pure Vanilla teases her about it often which just gets her more flustered but you absolutely relish it.

You run your fingers through White Lily’s hair right after her shower. Drying it off gently as you now work to rebraid it, brushing into her white locks as she hums to herself.

“Is this alright? I know it’s a little different from what you usually do but it suits you,” You ask, grinning at her reflection in the mirror she’s holding.

She nods, hands touching the braid rather delicately, “thank you, my love. It looks wonderful.”

You place a kiss on the top of her head, making her flush as you pin the braid to the back, ensuring it doesn’t move around, “you deserve it.”

Pure Vanilla!

- His go to is definitely calling you “honey!” You’re always so sweet to him you remind him of it. Helping him out around the medical tent and making sure he’s doing okay. He loves being doted on and vice versa <3

“You really have a knack for getting into trouble, hm, honey?” Pure Vanilla cooed softly, his fingers brushing up against your waist as he carefully cleaned up the jam around your wound. You let out a quiet hiss and shivered, frowning to yourself.

“The cake hounds caught me by surprise. Black Raisin cookie scolded me enough for the both of you, yknow?” Pure Vanilla smiled at your grumbling, rubbing the side of your waist slowly as he leaned in and kissed you.

“Not scolding you, just concerned. You cannot stop a cookie from acting out in their nature, but you can make sure they’re doing it safely,” He flicked your forehead for emphasis as he pulled away from your lips, finishing bandaging up your injuries and beaming at your flushed faced.

Dark Cacao!

- I believe he’d often just refer to you by your name in professional or formal settings. But in private? He calls you “beloved.” It comes naturally to him, but he still uses it sparsely.

You drag your fingers across Dark Cacao’s cheeks, tracing his strong jaw with adoration as his eyebrows twitch in his sleep. Leaning in, you brush your lips against his, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your cheeks as he awakens.

“it’s far too early to be awake, my beloved,” His sleepy voice was gruff but soft, a tone he deserved for you only. You just nuzzle your nose against his, hands shaking around his neck and fingers curling into his long hair as he wraps an arm around you, violet eyes gazing at you.

“You have an audience with Caramel Arrow in an hour, my King. I think it’s best if you’re up soon,” You giggle, pulling away from the kiss and watching his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The corners of his lips twitch in amusement, making your heart swell with adoration.

“I’m sure she will not mind if I spend a couple more minutes in your arms.”

Hollyberry Cookie!

- Definitely calls you by “Sugar” but is the most likely to have a nickname for you thats personal to you both! Like one that stems from an embarrassing memory or inside joke.

You roll your eyes and frown at Hollyberry as you help her up the steps to her room, her body pressed against you as you carefully bring her to her bed and lay her down. An immediate flush darkening your face as she grips your waist and pulls you into bed with her.

“You should see your face, sugar, from annoyed to so flustered,” she slurred, the sweet scent of berry juice hitting your nose and you just groaned.

“Not funny or amusing, Holly, I told you to lay off the berry juice this time!” You complained, leaning into her touch anyway as she nuzzled you, eliciting a laugh from Hollyberry, “seriously you can’t be drinking like this so often.”

Hollyberry buried her head into your neck as you rub her scalp affectionately, scowling and continuing on your tangent, “I worry about you, you know? Always so reckless and impulsive. Even Wildberry can’t seem to keep you grounded sometimes…” you trailed off, brows furrowing as you realized your wife had gone strangely quiet.

“Holly?”

An answer came in the form of a soft snore as she kept you pulled against her, making you roll your eyes and kiss her forehead as you get comfortable on top of her. You made a mental note to thank Wildberry tomorrow for bringing her home.

[no1blacksapphirefan]

Shadow milk watching us refer to different cookies are our ‘favorites’- I just told my best friend that Holly berry is my favorite followed by Golden cheese

how do you think your Self aware au cookies would react to being called the readers favorite?

That is a funny thought ngl, I always tell my friends my fav is black sapphire and how much I love him (I think they're getting sick of it/silly) These 3 requests seemed a bit similar, the plush one kinda connects to the rest cuz I feel like a lot of ppl would buy a plush of their fav character if they could hehe (Someone make a black sapphire plush I beg)

Pure Vanilla Oh he's so flattered, out of all the cookies you favour him the most? It's just so sweet of you, he tries to contain his blush as he overhears your conversation with your friend, he knows he should't listen, even though it is a bit harder.

But how can he not hear how giddy you sound as you happily show your friend the screen with him there, he hears your praises of how you love him so and oh he can hardly contain himself from giving himself away as he sees you show your friend a plush you've made of him.

How can you be this sweet? You're carrying it around too?? Oh my, you're gonna make him hope he can meet you in person now.

White Lily Hearing you gush so sweetly about her and her character makes her so flustered and embarrassed, even the part of her story as Dark Enchantress made you love her?

Oh she isn't sure how long she can keep a straight face as you go on and on about how much you love and favour her character out of any other, she's so flattered, she wants to thank you so much.

As soon as you pull out the home made plush you made of her, she nearly lets out a squeak before happily telling other cookies about it, she's so happy about it believe me.

Dark Cacao He's so startled as soon as he hears you gush about him to your friend while showing them who you were talking about, he stares with a straight face as he watches your friends giggle at how much you loved him and honestly? He wanted to join in, of course not in a bad way but damn he isn't used to this kind of love.

He doesn't know how to fully feel knowing out of all the cookies you could've favoured you chose him, your're so kind. He's sure there's other cookies worth your love but knowing you still chose him makes him feel content.

His eyes can't help but widen as he sees you happily cuddle a plush version of himself, you made that? Because you liked him? He wonders what else you do just because of that, he isn't complaining though, he can't deny the plush looks cute. Maybe he can find find someone who can make a plush version of you...

Golden Cheese Oh she loves it, high praise. She loves hearing you talk so it's a win win, hearing someone praise her for her story, design and game-play and it's you saying it? Oh you talk her up too much. Though she can't complain. She loves hearing you speak.

She stands pridefully as your friend looks at her from your phone, seemingly also amazed by her appearance. Oh she enjoys hearing how giddy you seem to get as you rant on and on about her, nearly makes her blush.

She can't help the smile that creeps on her face as she spots the plushie you made of her, seeing you enjoy her character so much fills her with pride no other praise can imagine of achieving.

Hollyberry She swears her heart soared to all new levels as she hears you talk about her, seeing that amazing cute smile as you happily list out the reasons why she's your favourite. Witches, she could probably do the same for you. List countless reasons why you're her favourite person.

Hearing you rant about her to your friend? How adorable!! She's so happy to hear you seem to like her just as passionately as she likes you. Makes her smile to each corner of her face.

Oh and her heart might as well have floated away as she sees you make a plush of her, oh how she wants to reach out and give you the biggest hug instead, she can't help but let out a laugh every time she spots you cuddle it as you play the game.

Shadow Milk Really? He's your favourite? Don't get him wrong he's honoured and he has always wanted your attention and loved how you showed it to him but actually hearing the words fall out of your mouth? That was different. You truly favoured him out of the countless cookies there was? You truly want to stay by his side?

Hearing your loving voice talking about him to your friends, telling them how much you loved his design, his back story. Maybe you told them he was the reason for you to join or come back. Honestly any verbal mention of why you favoured him so makes his heart beat faster, he won't admit it though. He plays it off to others as if it were "To be expected" but truthfully? He can't help but be a bit flustered.

It was different, he swears it's different from your usual small displays of affection cuz not only were you talking about him and what you loved, you're talking about him to a friend and showing him off...and seeing that plushie you made of him? Almost intensified his want to get out of the game and meet you.

Mystic Flour She didn't expect it, sure, her design is pretty to most and perhaps her backstory pulled at your heartstrings, hearing how she became a beast and looking at how she still truly cares, even but deep down. But she didn't expect that those things pulled together made you favour her so much.

Hearing you chatter away to your friend about her, sent a weird feeling in her body, you really like her that much? You're willing to talk about her to others? Despite her usual apathy, you continue to be an exception to how she feels. Perhaps it's because you seem to understand her story well, you would never betray her or constantly ask things of her.

Upon seeing that plush you made of her to continue showing your love for her, even if you didn't realise she was watching your every move. Just seeing that small plush you made for her, makes her heart swell in happiness and nearly pride. She likes the fact that she's your favourite. And she hopes she continues being your favourite.

Burning Spice His eyes quickly perk up as soon as he hears his name and "favourite" in the same sentence. He lets out a loud laugh hearing you happily talk about him to your friends. But not one in mocking, one in a mixture of confusion and satisfaction.

After becoming a beast, he nearly expected everyone to be scared of him, sure he has his minions who aren't but to others they should be scared of him. He'll bring destruction to your land but hearing you talk so sweetly about him? With words he swears shouldn't be used for him but...if it's you? Maybe he's willing to make a small exception. Besides, it's your voice that's speaking right now, he could listen to it all day, plus your almost boosting his ego with your sweet words.

Oh he loves that plushie you made of him, even if it's getting more physical affection then he is. Yes he knows you couldn't even if you knew he was wanting it but hey!! He wants those cuddles too, they kinda look nice...he wonders how willing you'd be to hug the real thing, are you going to change your mind and be scared of him? Oh will you continue loving him?

Black Sapphire Oh how he wishes he could podcast the words coming out of your mouth. To record and show other cookies and make them jealous that you yourself have stated that he was your very favourite. It fills him with so much pride.

Though, he won't deny your words nearly make him flustered, hearing your voice talk on and on about him, his part in the story, the despair in your voice as his banner left. Hah, you really know how to make a cookie swoon huh? He smiles so sweetly as you continue to speak, not daring to say a voice line to gain your attention if it meant hearing those kind words of praise continue.

Oh and that plush? The cutest lil thing, don't worry you'll get the real one soon. For now, he's content with pretending it's actually him in that plush, whether that be his soul is in there or he's fully replaced the plush? But for now, he'll settle for just imagining it.

Elder Faerie You first started to do it after his death scene, or at the very least he first heard you. Well you ranting to your friend about his death. It was strange for him, he had died yet he was here, you truly were magical. Hearing you so upset over his death surprised him for a bit, he could've sworn there wasn't much information about him though...he guesses that doesn't matter.

He doesn't mind hearing you chirping away to your friend about how much you like him, he's figured it out after hearing your sadness due to his death. He didn't think it would effect him at all actually due to the prior information but he was proven wrong as he felt his heart race. You truly were something, he didn't mind though. Simply smiling as he hears you continue talking to your friend, who to him, seemed a bit tired. Seems you've done this alot, even without the game being open.

Oh he finds the plushie you made adorable, and it's of him? If other cookies see that, they might get jealous...than again, not many would dare to possibly upset you by somehow taking it away. While he wishes to be in the plushes position instead, he can't help but smile so sweetly if he sees you fall asleep with that plush in your arms. He didn't think he'd adore you this much.

Espresso Cookie It catches his attention almost immediately, nearly breaking him out of his tiredness as he had researches quite a bit the previous night. He isn't surprised per say, he guessed as much when you paid extra attention to making him stronger than any other cookie but hearing you talk your friends eye out with reasons why you like him?

He listens intently hearing you speak of him, he knows technically he's ease dropping but you aren't aware that he's listening in, plus when you show him on the screen in the cookie profile, he can't help it. He tries not to smile, your sweet words almost getting to him. Well they did get to him, he's been thinking about it for awhile. Hearing you talk so happily about him makes him feel almost refreshed and energized despite his previous fatigue.

When he catches wind that you made a plush just for him? Oh he can't help but look at every detail, he's impressed. You got everything done to a tea, if he could he would praise you for your handy work but for now he'll settle for just staring at that plush, thinking about how much it continues to show your favouritism towards him.

[fixated-cookies]

Royal Claim

A visiting dignitary makes the mistake of flirting with you—innocently, unknowingly kissing your hand at the royal banquet. What he doesn’t know is that you belong to the King. And while Dark Cacao Cookie doesn’t correct him in public… he makes sure you understand who you belong to in private. Slowly. Deeply. Again and again.

Pairing: Dark Cacao Cookie x Reader Word Count: ~2,000 Rating: Explicit / 18+ Warnings: Jealousy, possessiveness, rough sex, size kink, marking, mild overstimulation, deep penetration, filthy talk, breeding kink vibes, aftercare

COMMISSION

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

The citadel was alive with warmth tonight, bathed in the golden light of chandeliers and the soft hum of diplomacy. The long hall echoed with the chatter of dignitaries, the clink of goblets, and the polite laughter of guests exchanging pleasantries. It wasn’t often that so many foreign officials were allowed within the Dark Cacao Kingdom’s stone walls, but tonight was an exception.

You stood off to the side, holding a small crystal dish, uncertain of what to do with it now that your conversation partner had wandered off. The rich food, the heavy silks, the strict posture—everything felt just a little overwhelming, though you did your best to smile and stay attentive.

That’s when he approached.

A tall Cookie dressed in crimson formal robes, edged with sun-gold embroidery. A diplomat, if you recalled correctly. He introduced himself with a soft accent and a graceful nod, his words laced with honeyed charm.

“I must confess,” he said, voice low but clear, “I’ve seen many wonders in this land... but none quite like you.”

Your cheeks heated. You laughed softly, politely, unsure if he was joking or simply being kind. “You’re too kind, sir.”

He didn’t retreat. If anything, he stepped closer. “Kindness has nothing to do with it. I simply speak the truth.” His hand reached gently for yours, lifting it with practiced ease. “May I?”

You blinked, confused, but nodded. And before you could really process what was happening, he brought your hand to his lips and pressed the faintest kiss to your knuckles.

It wasn’t lecherous. It was gentle. Formal. Old-fashioned.

Still... your heart skipped.

“I hope you’re being treated well here,” he continued, eyes meeting yours with calm intensity. “If not, I’d be more than honored to keep you company during your stay.”

You didn’t quite know how to answer. A shaky smile formed on your lips.

Up on the throne dais, Dark Cacao Cookie sat silently.

He had not moved in over an hour. Stoic. Quiet. Watching.

Only a few attendants glanced up to notice the slow, deliberate tightening of his gloved fingers around the throne’s armrest. The faint clench of his jaw. The way his gaze never left you.

He said nothing. He made no scene.

But the temperature in the hall felt colder all at once.

The feast began to wind down as the night deepened. Goblets were drained, dignitaries bowed their thanks, and polished shoes clicked against marble floors as guests slowly filtered out.

You were helping a servant clear a tray when a familiar voice interrupted, low and clipped.

“The King has requested your presence in his chambers.”

You blinked. “Me?”

The servant gave a stiff nod.

Your heart fluttered, confused but not alarmed. It wasn’t uncommon for Dark Cacao to call for you, though it usually involved gentle conversation or shared silence over tea. Still, something about the way the servant said it felt... strange.

By the time you reached the king’s private chambers, the vast corridor outside had gone still. The guards posted at the entrance bowed silently and stepped aside, allowing you in.

The doors shut behind you with a soft but final thud.

You stepped in cautiously. The chamber was dim—lit only by the soft flicker of a hearth and a few candles that lined the stone walls. The fire crackled, casting gold along the dark floor.

He was already there.

Standing with his back to you, half in shadow, his great cloak draped over one shoulder. The armor was gone—only the long dark robes remained, unfastened slightly at the throat. One gauntlet still adorned his hand, the other had been set aside on a table nearby.

He didn’t speak right away.

You hesitated in the doorway. “You called for me, your majesty?”

His head turned slightly. Just slightly. Enough to confirm that yes, he had heard you.

And then, after a long pause—

“You let him touch you.”

The words struck like stone. Flat. Emotionless. But his voice was too calm.

You blinked, taken aback. “I—? Oh... the diplomat?” You gave a small nervous laugh. “He was just being polite. I didn’t think anything of it.”

Dark Cacao turned fully now.

His gaze landed on you, and your breath caught. It wasn’t harsh. It wasn’t even angry.

It was still.

Composed.

But the silence behind his eyes made your stomach twist.

“You didn’t stop him.”

You fidgeted, suddenly unsure of your footing. “I didn’t realize I needed to. I’m sorry—was I not supposed to...?”

He crossed the room slowly, each step deliberate, heavy boots echoing softly on the stone. You found yourself stepping back without meaning to. The air between you began to thrum with something tense. Something unsaid.

“You are mine,” he said, voice still low. “Not a prize for others to sample. Not a flower for stray hands to pluck.”

You stared at him, unsure what to say. You weren’t used to hearing him like this.

“I didn’t know it would upset you.”

His eyes narrowed faintly. “That is the only reason you are still standing upright.”

Another step. Closer. The flicker of the fire made his broad silhouette swell, casting a long shadow behind him.

He reached out—not harshly, but firmly—and took your chin between his gloved fingers.

“You didn’t know,” he repeated, voice like stone ground to dust. “Then allow me to show you.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but the grip on your jaw shifted, tilting your head up, his thumb brushing the edge of your bottom lip.

“You will not forget again.”

He released you.

And then began to slowly remove the remaining glove.

He didn’t give you time to speak.

His glove hit the ground with a soft thud, and in the next breath, your back collided with the nearest stone column. A gasp caught in your throat—half shock, half something else entirely—as his hand braced beside your head, shadowing your body with his own.

His voice remained composed. But his touch was not.

Large, calloused fingers slid along your side, down your waist, before curling tight around your hip. You whimpered at the sudden pressure, your head tilting up to meet his burning gaze.

“I will not raise my voice,” he murmured, nose brushing against your temple. “I will not shame you with rage or accusations.”

His knee pressed between your legs, parting them, guiding you back until your spine kissed cold stone.

“But you will remember.”

You could feel the hardness in his pants already, pressed against your thigh—solid, demanding, heavy. And when he leaned in to kiss you, it wasn’t a kiss at all. It was a claim. His teeth caught your bottom lip, tugging it slightly, his tongue slipping past the protest you hadn’t even tried to make.

You moaned against his mouth.

“You let him hold your hand.” His hand slid beneath your shirt—warm, rough, firm. “Tell me, did you imagine what else he might’ve touched?”

“No—no, I didn’t—”

He chuckled, low and humorless.

“I don’t believe you.”

In one swift motion, he lifted you—effortless, strong—and carried you across the room to his massive bed. You didn’t have time to react before he was laying you down, hands already tugging your clothing open, baring your body to the cold air.

Then he paused.

Just looked at you.

His jaw was clenched. His pupils wide. His breathing heavy.

“I am not a man given to possession,” he said, fingers trailing down your chest, over your stomach, until he reached your thighs. “But you are the one thing I will not allow to be touched by another."

The mattress dipped beneath your back, firm and cold from the castle stone. You hadn’t even caught your breath from the walk over when he was already on top of you—kneeling between your legs, shadowed by the firelight. But he wasn’t rushing.

No, that would be too kind.

His hands came to rest on your sides, thumbs pressing lightly against the hem of your shirt. You expected him to tear it. You wouldn’t have blamed him.

Instead, he took his time.

“You wore this tonight,” he said quietly, his tone unreadable, “when you knew others would be looking.”

You blinked. “I—”

His fingers moved, finding the first button. Undoing it. Then the second.

“You chose something soft. Innocent. Easy to touch.” He tugged the fabric open just enough to expose your collarbones. His eyes followed the line of your skin like a predator eyeing something precious—and already his gloved hand slid upward to trace your throat.

“Did you want to be touched?” he asked, not coldly. Just... genuinely. Cruelly. “Did you want someone else’s fingers where mine should be?”

Your breath hitched.

Another button undone.

He opened your shirt fully, baring your chest to the flickering firelight.

The chill of the room made you shiver, but his hands were so warm. One trailed along your ribs, the other pressed flat over your sternum. The weight of it made you squirm.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured.

You shook your head.

“You are.”

His hand slipped downward, stopping at the waistband of your pants. He didn’t move immediately, just rested there, watching you with dark, half-lidded eyes.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered. “If you don’t want this, say it now.”

You didn’t.

Of course you didn’t.

His fingers hooked under the waistband and began to pull. Slow. Deliberate. The scrape of your trousers against your thighs echoed louder than anything else in the room. When they caught around your knees, he helped you kick them off—tossing them aside like they were in the way.

You were half-naked now. Exposed. Breathing hard.

He didn’t touch you right away.

Instead, he leaned down. Kissed the hollow of your throat. Then lower.

And lower.

By the time his mouth wrapped around your nipple, warm and wet and sucking slow, your back arched off the bed. His teeth scraped just enough to make you whimper. His tongue soothed it. Then he did it again on the other side—lazily, like he had all the time in the world to devour you inch by inch.

One of his hands slid between your thighs. Just rested there. Heavy. Teasing.

You squirmed.

He looked up at you, expression unreadable. “Are you getting worked up over this? Or is it still the thought of that man touching you?”

You whimpered his name.

He growled softly—and finally, his fingers pressed against your heat. Rubbing through the fabric, slow and steady. So little friction. So much pressure.

“Dripping already,” he murmured. “And I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”

He leaned in closer. His breath ghosted over your inner thigh. His fingers curled under your last piece of clothing.

“Shall I make you beg for it?” he whispered. “Or will you give yourself to me without shame this time?”

Then he kissed the inside of your leg.

Then higher.

And higher still.

Just before his tongue finally met your skin, he glanced up at you again.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said, low and deep. “And remember this the next time another dares touch what’s mine.”

His mouth was so close you could feel his breath against the thin, damp fabric still clinging to you.

But he didn’t touch you.

Not quite.

His hands settled at your hips, fingers slow as they slid beneath the last barrier between you and him. You squirmed, instinctively trying to close your thighs—but he gave you a single sharp glance, and your body fell still.

He exhaled slowly, reverently.

"These," he said, voice low and scathing, “should’ve never been worn for another’s eyes.”

He pulled.

The fabric stretched at first, clinging pitifully to your skin before giving way. You whimpered at the sensation—the drag of it, the air kissing your wetness, the humiliation of how soaked through they were. He didn’t mock it. But he did pause.

He held the ruined undergarment in his hand, looking down at it like it was some offensive thing—something tainted. His jaw flexed.

Then he tossed them aside.

Now you were bare. Laid out. Thighs parted. Your chest rose and fell in soft, shuddering breaths, and still he said nothing.

His eyes took you in.

Every inch.

Every twitch.

And then he undid his own trousers.

You heard the belt first—the sharp clink of the buckle unfastening. Then the whisper of fabric. Your eyes widened. He didn’t tease. He didn’t ask if you were ready.

He just moved closer, pressing the broad, flushed head of his cock against your entrance.

Thick.

Hot.

Bare.

The moment the tip pushed in, your breath caught like you’d been struck.

"You’ll remember this," he said softly, his voice a low thunder beneath your skin. "The next time someone thinks to kiss your hand. You'll remember how I ruined you for anyone else."

He began to press deeper.

Your body stretched, pulsing tight around him. You whimpered, tried to breathe, tried to relax—but he was so big and so slow, dragging every inch of himself in like a punishment.

His head dipped. His breath was rough against your ear.

“Take it,” he growled, voice shaking, “Take all of me.”

He bottomed out with a sharp, final thrust that knocked the breath from your lungs.

And then he paused.

Buried inside.

Your body trembling, clutching around him like it didn’t know how to hold something so wide, so deep, so utterly unrelenting.

You gasped, a sound high and helpless, and his hand reached up—tangling in your hair, pulling your face toward him.

“Now scream for me,” he said, “and let them all know you belong to their king.”

He was trembling. You could feel it—every inch of him was shaking above you, inside you. His arms, braced at either side of your head, trembled with the effort it took to hold back, to stay composed. But his body was losing the war.

He pulled out slowly, all the way to the tip—your walls clenching down, unwilling to let him go—and slammed back in with a sound so wrecked you barely recognized it came from him.

“Ah—fuh—hhnnh—”

His breath stuttered out of him in bursts. His pace turned uneven. Sloppy. And you were so wet now—each thrust echoed with obscene slick sounds that should’ve humiliated you, but instead made your toes curl.

You moaned, helpless. He gasped. His hips stuttered.

You were unraveling him.

And he knew it.

“C-can’t…” he rasped, barely audible. “Too—tight—fuh—”

His jaw dropped open. No words came, just a sharp cry as he drove himself deep, deeper, his weight grinding you down into the mattress.

His hands were everywhere—clutching your thighs, your waist, your chest. Desperate to hold you. Anchor you. Claim you. His mouth found your shoulder and bit down—not enough to hurt, just to mark—his groan muffled against your skin.

He was panting now. Each breath dragged from somewhere deep, primal. His forehead pressed to yours, sticky with sweat.

You whispered his name.

His hips bucked.

A noise punched out of him, cracked and shuddering.

“Can’t—can’t stop—”

His thrusts turned punishing. Slamming. The sound of his body against yours filled the chamber, thick and fast, wet and hard. The bed rocked beneath you. Your body shook.

Every time you clenched around him, he sobbed—yes, sobbed—tiny gasping sounds that spilled from his mouth like he’d never known pleasure this raw.

You felt his release before he said a word.

The sudden snap of his hips.

The way his cock twitched, buried impossibly deep inside you.

Then—

A sound.

Low.

Shattered.

“Ah—ah—hnnnh—” he cried out, loud and broken and beautiful. His whole body convulsed as he came, his hands digging into your hips, his chest shaking from the force of it.

Warmth spread through you, thick and pulsing, as he poured himself into you. Not once. Not twice.

But over and over.

His moans didn’t stop. He didn’t go silent. He kept groaning—like he couldn’t hold it in, like every second inside you was too much and not enough. His head dropped to your shoulder, teeth biting into the flesh there as he spilled himself inside you like it was his right.

You whispered his name again.

He whimpered.

Actually whimpered.

His arms wrapped around you, crushingly tight, keeping you in place as his cock throbbed one final time.

Then silence.

No—almost.

Because he was still panting. Still shaking. Still moving his hips in slow, tiny thrusts like he wasn’t done.

Like he couldn’t be done.

Your legs trembled. Your fingers dug into his back. You could feel him twitching, hard and warm inside you, even after the climax had passed.

And then—

He spoke.

Barely.

“Don’t… move,” he whispered. “Need to—need to stay in you… just a little longer.”

His voice cracked on the words. Like it hurt to say them. Like he was ashamed.

He kissed your cheek, lips hot and soft.

“Still mine. Still full of me.”

You nodded weakly.

“Say it,” he rasped. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

He groaned again.

And didn’t pull out.

--

ahhh I didn't realize just how many people LOVE dark cacao cookie hehehe

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 pocus

synopsis: when you're a no-show for your scheduled merienda, katakuri begins to worry. little does he know you're right in the middle of a Big Mom hunger pang, and she seems to be craving your specialty...

cw: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint, katakuri is katakuri, katakuri DOES NOT PLAY ABT YOU, you have six children together, you're relative to his height, you're a baker.

a/n: i know katakuri's not part of my usual content but i'm rewatching wci and i'm inspired sue me <3 besides the man is FIONE

"Patissiers!"

"Yes, sir! We're on our way!" the patissiers bellowed, running at full speed with their large doughnut cart in tow. "We come with your treat for the day!"

Shifting his weight on his legs, the Sweet Commander crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching intently as the small men scurried toward him, the three of them a dark blue blur against the checkered pink of Brûlée's Mirro-World.

"Our selection today is truly special! Lady (y/n) said so herself!"

"I think you'll find it most appropriate!"

"For a man as perfect as you, each treat is made from the perfect ingredients!"

The first one hoisted a huge chocolate-frosted doughnut over his head, beaming proudly.

"We purchased the finest Corioli cacao we could find on the black market and combined it with milk from a cow grazed on a Sky Island whose life was free from stress and woe! The resulting chocolate is rich and ideal to dollop atop this giant doughnut!"

The second one lifted up a chocolate doughnut with strawberry cream, smiling widely.

"And for this one, we whipped the highest grade cream, which we received fresh from the great Minister Opera himself. The icing is meticulously decorated and topped with a strawberry to make this masterpiece a feast for the eyes, before it becomes entombed within your grateful belly!"

The third one raised a yellow doughnut, topped with decadent powdered sugar, slightly wobbling.

"We also prepared a doughnut topped with a sugar favored by Celestial Dragons, which brings out the spiciness of the Meylon Cinnamon baked into its dough, along with this and that and the other thing, too, of course!"

Together they twirled, utterly elated by the fine work you curated.

"And it is all thanks to Lady (y/n)'s unparalleled baking prowess! It is a true honor and privilege to work alongside her in the kitchen! So please enjoy this sublime sweetness!"

But, sadly, Katakuri had completely tuned them out.

Their entire explanation went completely unheard, the Sweet Commander more concerned with your absence than anything else.

Brows furrowing, his eyes quickly flicked around the cart, failing to sense your presence anywhere remotely nearby.

'(y/n)...'

It was routine that you join him for his merienda's everyday, rain or shine.

The patissiers would roll you in along with his ginormous bushel of doughnuts, your smile blinding as you greeted and joined him inside his mochi shrine.

There, you would feed him your sweet treats and whisper sweet nothings as he recounted his day to you, and you yours, resting in each other's embrace as you relished the little time together you two were able to make within your busy lives.

It was the only time of the day the man looked forward to.

And it was being tampered with.

"Where is she?"

His voice was like a wave of ice extinguishing any sort of jovial mood the chefs had established, replace their joy with potent fear.

Instantly, a frigid shiver rolled down their spines, their little bodies going rigid with terror.

"W-Well, you see—!"

"We are sworn to secrecy by the Lady herself!"

"She ordered us to remain silent about her whereabouts as not to disrupt your merienda!"

"We—!"

Abruptly lunging forward, Katakuri yolked up the first chef by the collar of his uniform, the man letting out a fearful yelp as the Sweet Commander pulled him closer with a deadly glare.

He allowed his Conqueror's haki to flow freely from his body, blanketing the entire space under an immense and overwhelming pressure—so much so that it knocked the other two chefs out cold.

His tone was deadly serious, and leaving no room for argument.

"Where. Is. My. Wife?"

"Mocha, honey, keep stirring that curd!" you instructed, frantically, as you added the yeast to the second batch of doughnut scald. "Don't stop 'til it's nice and fluffy!"

"Yes, mama!" your young daughter nodded, expression determined as she fervently mixed the large vat of lemon filling, despite the growing weakness in her arms.

She had been stirring vigorously for the past thirty minutes straight, and there was only so much an eight year-old girl could take.

"We're running out of time!" Soda exclaimed, worried, as he peeked out the window, the rumblings coming from outside shaking the foundation of your large bakery. "Grandma's gonna be here any second!"

"We're working as fast as we can!" Cocoa grunted, finally finishing the third batch of dough.

"I don't understand!" Latte squealed, running to assist her little sister in stirring the curd.

"She was all the way on the north side five minutes ago! How did she get here so fast?!" Frappe added, following after.

"Anything's possible for your grandmother when it comes to dessert," you huffed, finishing up the fourth batch of dough. "I've learned that the hard way."

"Well, we're losing ground fast! Daifuku just got sent flying!" Chai exclaimed, his little eyes wide with horror as he watched his uncle soar through three buildings.

"That's it. I gotta go help," Soda quickly turned, storming toward the door.

"Absolutely not!" you shut down, instantly. "Nothing can stop your grandmother during one of her hunger pangs! You'd be needlessly putting yourself in danger!"

"I have to do something! I'm a minister!"

Soda was your firstborn son, the eldest of your six children and the pride and joy of the Big Mom pirates.

He was a prodigy, his power already nearing that of a Sweet Commander at the young age of twenty-one—he happened across the Fizz-Fizz fruit at a very young age, turning himself into a Carbonation-Man

With a bounty of 850 million, he was powerful enough to be asked out on his own solo missions, as well as join his countless aunts and uncles on their expeditions.

And to put the icing on the cake, he had set the record for youngest minister, having been appointed as the Minister of Fizz two years prior.

Your son was progressing in leaps and bounds, his dream of taking after his father coming to fruition more and more with each passing day.

But... where he took after Katakuri in prowess, he also took after him in his all-encompassing sense of duty.

"Stay here! Keep working on the doughnut!" he exclaimed, rushing out of the bakery. "I'll try and slow her down!"

"Soda!"

"Big brother!"

But he was already gone, leaping into the air to assist Smoothie.

"Mama, mama! The curd is finished!" Mocha reported, running over to tug at your dress.

"Good job, honey," you nodded, patting her on the head. "All right, kids, this is the moment of truth! Your brother's buying us some time so we've gotta hurry!"

"Right!"

"Chai, go get the other two batches of dough out the chiller!"

He nodded, quickly running to the back to go retrieve it.

"Latte! Frappe! Start combining the dough we have out here!"

The twins rushed toward the large bowls, already starting to dump them out onto the flour-covered counter.

"Mocha, go make sure the fryers are hot, then come back and help your brother combine the first batch!"

"You got it, mama!"

She turned and sprinted to the back room, running as fast as her little legs would carry her.

"Cocoa, you're with me! We're gonna finish up the glaze you started earlier!"

"Got it!" Cocoa nodded, running over to the bowl of half-finished glaze she had set aside.

"(y/n)!" Brûlée frantically exclaimed, popping her head out of a mirror in the kitchen. "It's getting bad! Mama's heading right this way!"

"I know! I know! We're moving as fast as we can!" you huffed, frantically stirring the second bowl of glaze.

"Well, it's not fast enough! Mont-d'Or wants to know how much longer this is going to take! This whole island is about to get leveled!"

"If Mama gets a mediocre doughnut then this island really will get leveled!" you scoffed, brows furrowed. "This is my specialty! Just let me handle this and everything'll be—"

"MAMA! GRANDMA'S HERE!" Mocha shrieked, trembling with terror as she stared out the window.

The Yonko's footfalls began to thoroughly shake the bakery, knocking over sacks of flour, breaking tables, and completely destroying shelves.

"No! It's too soon!" you gasped, quickly putting down the bowl and rushing toward the door. "Cocoa, take over! You know what to do!"

"Wha—?! Mom!"

"Don't stop working!"

Frantically, you burst out of the bakery, eyes wide to see that Big Mom was—in fact—right at your doorstep.

"I WANT MY DOUGHNUT! BRING ME MY LEMON DOUGHNUT NOW!"

"Mama!" you shouted, protectively extending your arms out in front of your beloved bakery. "Your doughnut is almost ready! Just give us a little bit more time!"

"WHERE IS MY DOUGHNUT, GIRL! BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS MY DOUGHNUT!"

"We're making it as fast as we can! We just need a few more minutes to get it just right! You have my word!"

"Mom, no!" Soda called, eyes wide with fear as he watched from a distance. "Get out of the way!"

"(y/n), forget it! It's no use!" Smoothie exclaimed. "Run!"

"No! I will not let her destroy everything we've worked for!"

"OUT OF MY WAY!"

In an instant, you were encompassed by an ominous aura, the feeling not at all foreign as you had witnessed the power countless times before.

'Soul Pocus...'

"IS IT LIFE?! OR TREAT?!"

"NO!" Soda shouted, about to rush toward you before Oven and Smoothie grabbed him up, holding him back.

"Not life or treat!" Opera winced.

"She's gonna steal her lifespan away!" Galette cried

"Mama, you can't! She's family! You'll get your dessert soon enough, just hold on!" Mont-d'Or attempted to reason.

"Mama, have mercy!" Smoothie exclaimed.

Brows furrowing, you stood strong, not budging an inch as she stared you down.

"I'm sorry, Mama! But it's just not ready yet!" you stated, cooly.

"Oh, you're gonna be sorry!" she bellowed, her glare intensifying. "I SAID... LIFE OR TREAT!"

Now, on any other day—where it was just you and your troop of bakers—you would have certainly had your soul ripped right out, the fear of your mother-in-law too great to fight off.

But this day was different.

This day... your children were thrown into the mix.

If Big Mom killed you before they finished the doughnut, then they would certainly be slaughtered right alongside.

And with your husband away on the outermost islands of Totto Land, and Soda held back by his uncles, there was no one else left to protect them in that outcome.

So... it didn't matter if it was Kaido, or Big Mom, or whoever.

You were willing to fight off all the emperors at once if it meant keeping your babies safe.

Your brows furrowed, all your fear seeming to dissipate into nothing, molding itself in the shape of pure, unwavering determination.

She wouldn't lay a finger on your children.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Lunging forward, she attempted to grab your soul, but was thoroughly shocked to find that nothing had appeared in her grasp.

Your soul was perfectly intact.

"Your grandchildren are working diligently to bring the doughnut to perfection! If you could only wait just a little while longer!"

"Not necessary!" a familiar voice cut through the tense air, putting you at ease almost instantly.

"Look! Up there!"

"It can't be!"

"But it is!"

"It's...! It's...!"

"IT'S KATAKURI!"

As he soared through the air—humongous doughnut in hand—everyone watched with awe and relief, your husband a marvel to watch as he valiantly swooped in to save the day.

"Mama! Open wide!"

Using his Mochi-Mochi power, he launched his hand forward, harshly shoving the decadent doughnut into his mother's mouth, effectively halting her Soul Pocus.

For a moment... there was a pause.

The entirety of Whole Cake Island stood still, waiting with bated breath for Big Mom's reaction.

"Mama mama! How delicious! This is the best doughnut I've ever tasted!"

Together, everyone let out a unanimous sigh of relief, some even falling out on the floor.

"Mama is successfully subdued! I repeat! Mama is successfully subdued!" Mont-d'Or announced into his transponder snail. "Let's switch gears toward repairing damage. Toot sweet!"

"Lady (y/n) did it!"

"The island is saved!"

"That's our (y/n) for you!"

"Perfect as ever!"

"Oh, thank, God," you exhaled, breathless, as Big Mom's aura finally released you, allowing your legs to buckle.

"(y/n)!" Katakuri quickly landed next to you, catching your limp body before you could fall. "Are you all right?! What happened?!"

"Your mother happened," you sighed, allowing your head to drop against his chest. "One of her hunger pangs."

His eyes widened, a future where things could've gone very wrong flashing through his mind.

"And you didn't call me? I told you to make me aware when a situation like this occurs," he asked, tone rising—more out of fear of what could've been than actual frustration.

"It was time for your merienda... and you've been working so hard lately," you muttered. "I thought you deserved a break from all this."

"Not when it comes to your safety... or the children's," he shook his head. "You all are my utmost priority. More than my merienda."

Realizing your miscalculation, your cheeks warmed, suddenly feeling foolish.

"Sorry, Kuri," you sighed, allowing yourself to melt into his touch. "I dropped the ball, didn't I?"

At the nickname, Katakuri flushed under his scarf, eyes averting from your adorably apologetic expression before he turned even more red.

"I'm just glad you're all right," he caved, all will to chide effectively oozing from his body. "Rest for now."

"Mom!" Soda exclaimed running toward you both. "Are you all right?! That was insane! I've never seen anyone withstand Soul Pocus before!"

You scoffed, shaking your head.

"I assure you, I wouldn't be able to do that again in a million years."

"Soda, ensure your sisters and Chai are all right. Then send for cleanup within a bakery," Katakuri ordered, starting off in the opposite direction. "Assist Mont-d'Or in heading the repair efforts. I'm leaving this mess in your hands."

"You got it!" he nodded, turning around to join the Minister of Cheese in his work.

"Wait... Kuri, I have to help, too," you started, attempting to sit up.

"You have done enough," he denied, tightening his hold on you. "They can take things from here."

"But—"

"No buts... You'll be joining me for the rest of the day."

Confused, you raised a brow, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Joining you? ...For what?"

Knowingly, he glanced down at you, heart pounding against his chest once again at the sight of your perfect face.

How he got so lucky, he would never know.

"We still have time for our merienda. If... you're all right with cold tea?"

Warmed by his shy kindness, you were unable to fight the smile rising to your lips, his ears burning with embarrassment in the adorable way you loved.

He was cute when he wasn't acting all tough.

"Iced tea's perfect... Lead the way."

[fanged-fanfics]

ok so can i PLEASE request a sequel to the "baby cookie reader says shadow cookie" thing where pure vanilla finds it sweet that y/n is developing an imaginary friend... until y/n hands him a drawing of this "imaginary" friend and sees shadow milk cookie...

☆ A New Pal, Only in Jest — Pure Vanilla & Child!Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Light Angst, Familial || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Part two to this fic!

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

"—And you're sure it's normal?" Pure Vanilla asks, tensely holding his cup while Dark Cacao sat across from him. "Yes, Pure Vanilla" Dark Cacao sighed "Children have large imaginations. It's normal for them to see things in the mundane. Dark Choco was once convinced a suit of armor that had never once moved was alive, it's a common occurrence". Pure Vanilla nodded, looking into his glass. His staff watched carefully as he gingerly sipped the liquid to try and calm his nerves. "It's more than that, Dark Cacao. This wasn't some... spirit. It was him. They act like they can see and talk to him"

Dark Cacao looked up, his expression gone from calm to serious "You don't mean-?". "I do" Pure Vanilla confirmed solemnly "They swore they could see him. I- I know he isn't back, but- what if...". Pure Vanilla let out a shuddering sigh, and Dark Cacao tapped his glass as he thought. "I'll contact Elder Faerie. In the meantime, try to keep your mind clear. Your Kingdom needs you". "Yes.. yes, you're right.." Pure Vanilla said softly. "If he does come back, I'll fight with you" Dark Cacao said, leaning forward a bit "Don't face this alone, not when you have those who want to help you"

Pure Vanilla nodded, putting on his usual placating gentle smile "Of course, thank you". Just then, you'd waddled into the room, padding over with a slightly crumbled paper pressed against your side. "Papa! Papa!! C'see!" You called, running up to his side. He glanced to you with a grin "Oh, of course!". He leaned down, tilting his staff as well as he looked over the paper. You held it out proudly, grinning as you looked to him with shiney and hopeful eyes.

Pure Vanilla tried to school his expression, but his smile fell without his control. That same cold chill was back, striking him right in the soul. It was a messily scribbled drawing of you and him, something he'd always treasured. But this time, to your other side, you'd drawn a dark figure. One with mismatched blue eyes, and a wide smile. "Who- who is that..?" Pure Vanilla asked in a shaky voice. "Shadow Cookie!" You proudly declared "My friend!". Dark Cacao leaned over, very gently taking the picture from your hands so he could inspect it.

You began to feel worried as the two shared worried looks. This wasn't anything like the praise and cheers you usually got for your art, and you couldn't understand what was wrong. Dark Cacao suddenly stood "I'll- contact the Faeries. Immediately". "My drawing.." You sadly said, seeing it crumpled in the stoic king's fist. Dark Cacao loosened his hold, beginning to smooth it out as best he could "Ah- forgive me, little one. Here," he said, handing it back to you.

You still had a slight pout, helping to smooth it out as well. Dark Cacao gave hurried goodbyes before he went to leave. Pure Vanilla stood, seeing him out as he placed a hand on your back. "Is... is it bad, papa?" You asked. Pure Vanilla looked down, quickly putting on a smile "Not at all, my darling blue bird. It's wonderful. We were talking about fussy old King business, don't you worry". You felt a little better as he kissed your forehead, moving to walk back to your room "Okay..."

Once inside, you put your drawing down. It still looked pretty good to you, you couldn't piece together why it got the reaction it did. Maybe your new friend would like it! You sat down, grabbing the black and blue crayons as you began working on yet another drawing of them. While you hummed, Pure Vanilla listened on the other side of the door, sighing gently. Worry was practically choking him, but he tried to steady his breathing. This- this was okay. He could- if he just-... he needed that visit as soon as possible.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: stalking, hidden cameras

The prospect of a stalker watching me in my own home through countless security cameras is objectively funny and utterly mortifying at the same time.

Like, what do you mean this guy is watching me make the greasiest grilled cheese in the frying pan with utterly way too much butter and cheese while dancing to anime bangers in my underwear—yelling as I get burnt by the sizzling butter in between singing the lyrics at the top of my lungs—every other syllable incorrect as I do not at all speak Japanese whatsoever.

What do you mean he’s watching me go through all my clothes one by one at midnight to try and put together an outfit for tomorrow, only to wear something completely different come morning—leaving a mess on the floor—which I don’t clean up before the very end of the week.

What do you mean he’s just watched me put on a full face of make-up just to go grocery shopping, only to come back a brief fifteen minutes later with a haul that consists purely of bread, milk, and eggs—muttering to himself that I forgot the toothpaste whilst watching me rage and refuse to go back out—rather wrestling with the old tube instead, calling out in victory to no one in particular once I manage to squeeze one last dosage out.

What do you mean he’s watching me binge a new anime I just discovered in one sitting—barely eating, only drinking coffee with a spoonful of cacao—only to binge-watch my favorite My Hero episodes again for the second time that month, and then rewatch the entirety of Haikyu!!

What do you mean he’s watching me drink a six-pack of beers or a whole bottle of wine on my own as I spend my day cleaning the apartment, getting distracted by all my stuff every other minute, burning through all my playlists until my speaker runs out of battery and I’m reminded that oh, it’s the middle of the night. But since my bed is full of the stuff I’ve yet to put back in its place, I make do on the couch and say good night as if speaking to him, even when I’m just saying it to the apartment.

And what do you mean he’s watching me search up the foulest shit online or watching me touch myself to the literal words of a Tumblr script. 

Like, Mr. Stalker, sir, seriously? Get a life.