#he knows things about pure vanilla that not even white lily herself knew. he knows things about pv that pure vanilla HIMSELF didn’t know

[thegreatcrowdragon]

Oh so it’s like. Definitely related to Shadow Milk huh

[milk-and-trickery]

@cookieofearthbread -

White Lily knew it’s been awhile since she visited Blueberry Yogurt, however it wasn’t because she was doing it on purpose but rather she had been caught up with a lot of things, making sure everything was alright that she didn’t realize how much time had passed until she did realize which made her curse to herself… 

Regardless, she needed to talk to the Scholar either way about a certain visitor that got within the kingdom and could interact with the tree itself. After all, she did not know if she trusted Candy Eye Cookie fully, however hopefully Blueberry Yogurt could help her.

Thus when she felt confident enough and knew Pure Vanilla would be alright (despite the ‘headaches’ he was gaining); she arrived at the tree and projected herself inside… Inside the prison… Her eyes shifted over the void to see if she could spot the Scholar before wandering cautiously to seek him out.

“Blueberry Yogurt?” She called out. Hopefully the Scholar will hear her.

Things had been.. fortunately silent for Blueberry Yogurt Cookie as of late. He didn't know if that was beneficial or a sign of things to come, but all the while he was enjoying the fact that the Jester was occupied elsewhere. Spending his mental energies on tending to the newly awakened Mystic Flour Cookie and the sudden influx of rage from her prison.

But that left him with aught all to do, in the grand scheme of things. Sure he'd step in when he realized Shadow Milk was tormenting Pure Vanilla. And of course he could lament on his punishment. But there was little else he could do with only so much as a crumb of his original power.

That was until a voice broke through the deafening silence of the Silver Tree's prison. At first, Blueberry Yogurt was in a daze, unsure if what he heard was correct. But then it came again, a familiar voice he'd only heard a few times now.

Yet still distinct.

With a tired sigh, the Scholar pulled himself to stand with his staff at his side. Rubbing his ethereal eyecing to rub the vestiges of weariness from him as he'd turn to the direction of the voice.

"White Lily Cookie?" He called out as well, using his own voice to guide her as he'd take cautionary steps toward her own. Mostly in worry it may very well be the Jester messing with him as well. Though thankfully, as her form came into view, relief would wash over him.

It was not another of Shadow Milk's twisted pranks.

"It's been some time, child. But I am happy to see you, none the less." He chuckled softly, approaching her with his usual, gentle smile. Then again, seeing anyone outside of Shadow Milk's plastered, twisted grin was more than welcoming. Even desired.

"Tell me, what brings you back into this dreary place once more? Surely it is not to merely see an old cookie such as myself." He chuckled, a small bit of joking was still part of him. A way to cope with his circumstances.

"I do hope you have been well, I have.. heard some worrying things as of late. Not just from my 'other self' but another I had thought long lost."

[cookieofearthbread]

BE HONEST - ACCEPTING

Anon

"Be honest Pure Vanilla cookie and White Lilly cookie. Do you have romantic feelings for each other?"

"Why do you ask?" Pure Vanilla quickly spoke, clearly caught off by the question, as his face was already turning a shade of red and he could be seen fiddling with his staff. He thought over the question; reminiscing the time he spent with White Lily and how much he wanted her to be happy as well be by her side with the rest of his life.

'Only together can we help all those weak and suffering…'

The healer wanted to help White Lily with her goals as he knew it was a noble one but at the same time it was her. He wanted to help her no matter what... Even if it meant doing some questionable things and doing things he knew was immoral such as stealing books from the forbidden section in the library at the academy and skipping class so that he could be with her.

He even dedicated a whole greenhouse to her, filling it with white lilies simply because the flower reminded of her and the scent that followed her. The same flowers that were in his chambers and other part of the Vanilla kingdom.

He went as far to wait for her return, not knowing if she would ever return and would be gone forever, even when she was replaced by a cookie who only held hatred towards him...

He waited and loved her no matter how much she changed over time and she only held resentment towards him because he simply didn't know what caused her to become twisted in the first place.

He will not abandon her... Not again. He will not let her down.

".... Nevermind... To answer your question.... I do love her and hold romantic feelings for her but..." His voice trailed off. He didn't know if White Lily felt the same way...

... And if she didn't... He would still love her even if his heart would ache at the truth.

"Huh...?" White Lily blinked, clearly not expecting the question, as she continue to stare at the stranger for a few minutes before mumbling to herself; clearly flustered when she realized what the other was asking.

She really didn't want to answer the question with how embarrassing it was but with the question being mention now and whether the guardian held romantic feeling for the other; she started to think over it, which only resulted in her face becoming more red when she thought about the healer and everything about him.

He was the only one who stood by his side and talk to her during the academy year... Even after she destroy the academy; he never once abandon her and always welcome her back from the trips she made over Earthbread in pursuit of the truth.

The fact he still welcome her back after ripping the world apart when her soul shattered and her heart was filled with hatred from learning the cruel and bitter truth about their creation.

Drowning in the truth and the dough.

She yearn for his kindness and pure nature that she wanted to preserve it; hold it in her hand and protect it from the darkness that wanted to tear it apart. She wanted to see the smile on his face and listen to his voice no matter what he was talking or rambling about as his sweet voice filled her.

She would set Earthbread on fire if it meant keeping Pure Vanilla safe. She would ruin herself to ensure his safety.

".... I love him but I don't deserve him... He deserve someone better then me.. Someone who hasn't hurt him..." She replied softly; tears pricking at her eyes.

She loved him but he deserve someone better. Even if it made her heart ache as she wanted to give him the Freedom.

[gr4veyardz]

Cookie Run headcanons except i’m obsessed with the ancients, i’m insane and i make weird family trees

Plus some extras under the cut

- I like the idea of Moonlight being Lily and Clover’s other mom, y’all know, two lesbian gods, their god-like child and their funky music son.

- Adding to this, Clover often talks about his family in his songs, hoping to meet one of them one day. Poor boy he misses his mom and sister:(

- Before her dissapearance, Golden Cheese had the opportunity to meet Mango; he was very young at the time so he would follow them everywhere she go, and Ananas gave her the nickname mom duck.

- White Lily knew she wasn’t the role model her brother needed, so after what happened with her mother she left Clover in an orphanage/convent, promising that she would send him letters every day. She kept up her promise for a few years until she became an ancient hero.

- If we consider that maybe the Dark Flour War happened centuries ago, Clover would be inmortal in a "i'm pretty much a normal guy with the exception i can't die of age or sickness" kinda way. So yeah he would be like- super old but he still has a young adult's body

- Mango sometimes asks Ananas about what happened to Golden Cheese, and even though they tell him that she is fine, he knows that not even his father knows what happened to them.

- Ananas hid Cheese for a long time after she was born, feathered dragons were viewed with distaste among their race, so they took her with the cheesebirds to make them their leader.

- Pitaya allows Lotus to stay in Holly’s kingdom even with their territorial behaviour, they know Lotus mourned their daughter’s “death” during a long time and now that she’s back they both deserve to work on their issues.

-  Lotus and Hollyberry dynamic is some “i left her alone in the woods all by herself when she was a child to test her sense of direction and i’m not ashamed to admit it” and “the only one allowed to piss off my mom is ME” kinda thing. A big love/hate relationship.

- Ah yes, the good ol' mommy issues strike again.

- Hollyberry has a great singing voice, Lotus cherish that aspect of her in secret.

- Frost Queen raised Cacao after he was left in the woods to die as a baby after being "the victim of a curse" (his parents were just idiots), and she took him in as her son. I see her making some kind of ritual to bond Cacao with her, y'know, adoption with extra steps.

- Linked to this we can see my other hc where Cacao was like a Frozen Child that died and reborned in a "normal" body because he was fated to be an ancient hero and shit like that.

- And in general i just like the concept of grim reaper deity and her inmortal child with severe trauma he bottles up, him becoming a legend in a harsh and traumatic way and leaving this deity without the only living being her deadly touch can't affect. (Add some mourning and maybe an emotional/mental breakdown after a reunion and you get a completely healthy mother with her son)

- If we expand this to Choco, he would have been shocked at the fact the goddess his kind use to pray to is his grandmother, his father is just a frozen forest spirit that reached godhood after endless trials and trauma and he himself is a demigod with a tragic fate, yeah what a family he has.

"do you remember Frost Queen?"

"she's my mom"

"yeah, why?"

"... so you're telling me that there's a goddess of death out there..."

"yup"

"we pray to and worship often, and we are related to her"

"exactly"

"and that makes us... GODS?!"

"only me, but my body is technically just a vessel to protect my soul, which is inside the souljam at the same time ironically, and my trials made me reach a god-like status, meanwhile you're like a demigod"

"sweet gods" (and Choco forgot that conversation for his own sanity)

- The reason Millenial Tree and Pure Vanilla have such a conflicted relationship is because Millenial practically left his son to be raised by other people while he focused in his godly duties, so Wind Archer took care of Vanilla instead.

- After years of constant neglect by his father, Vanilla ran away and became a shepherd at a very young age, not that he was alone, Archer kept an eye on him for as long as he could until he entered the academy, that was where Vanilla was separated from his protector for many years until he became an ancient hero.

- It was not that Millenial had not loved his son, he loved him too much in fact, but to protect him from the evils he had to face, he pushed him away and left him in the forest, where the god believed he would be safe, but Vanilla ran away from him instead.

- After the Dark Flour War Millenial searched for any clue that could lead him back to his son, It would take decades for him to hear from Vanilla, now Healer Cookie, again.

- If i had to choose a dynamic for them, it would be "a broken family trying to fix itself, only to fall apart every time". Sad.

- But not everything is bad my kids, they eventually meet again and Millenial has a second chance to be the father his son needed, Vanilla is not thrilled by this at all.

[bornsexyesterday]

Tbh Matcha has plot potential if devsis ever adds her to kingdom tbh

(This is a bit lengthy)

Like.,,,,according to their and Dark Enchantress's relationship charts in crob, they are classified as family but are never specified as what familial relationship they have specifically.

But that also brings in a question;

Would that also mean that Matcha had also been related to White Lily do to WL and DE being the same person? If thats the case, did any of the other ancients know about Matcha? Did Pure Vanilla know about Matcha ? If the others didn't know about Matcha surely Pure Vanilla knew of them, right? Why does DE never talk about her? Why is Matcha never brought up amongst the people that might have a reason to mention her (like Pomegranate, don't they have a form of rivalry??)?

Maybe it's because DE doesn't like thinking about them (which can be shown in her relationship chart with Matcha where it's simply dots)

Maybe Matcha was someone entirely different than the Matcha that was presented in-game. Maybe Matcha had stumbled upon the same thing White Lily had, which caused them to become Matcha (for example they both have horns). Maybe Matcha was supposed to be the Dark Enchantress but failed, and because she had been reformed into a "new" cookie and the things they saw, she couldn't bare to see White Lily again.

So they ran and disappeared. And that upset White Lily so much it caused her to never speak of Matcha again. Matcha disappeared before she met Pure Vanilla and the ancients so that could explain why they don't know about Matcha, and even if Pure Vanilla knew of Matcha he wouldn't ever speak of them out of respect for White Lily.

Maybe Matcha's been gone for so long that Dark Enchantress decided to forget about them, as she herself had better things to worry about.

And she does.

at least until Matcha manages to find her again.

[peachyqueenly]

The Night of Witches

Rated: T

White Lily Cookie goes to The Night of Witches seeking answers... but this time, she is not alone. Will this affect how Fortuna writes the story?

Link to it on AO3 (if you prefer to read it there): https://archiveofourown.org/works/31830856

//Quick note before we start!!

Firstly, I'd like to thank my friends Lou and Cas (if either of you are reading this, mwah mwah thank you for your help besties!!) for helping me proofread!!! Yall are the best and your suggestions definitely helped bring this work to life <3.

Secondly, feel free not to click this link until you either a. reach the part where they appear or b. finish the entire story, but here is a link to the design for an OC (or alt design, if you will) that appears here. I find having a visual reference helps me, so: https://twitter.com/PeachyQueenly/status/1399134036359106567?s=20.

Finally, just in case, a fair warning that there is an injury (someone loses a finger) and a death in here. I don't think I wrote it too graphically, but pay heed to the T rating.

~

Such a solemn place...

White Lily had told him it was just an evening trip. Nothing specific, just that she had some business to attend to outside the soaring peaks and sweet valleys of the Vanilla Kingdom. She told him not to worry himself to the point of crumbling... and at first, he felt bad for not believing her mournful eyes.

But now? He was glad to have trusted his judgement rather than her words... for once.

The smell of burnt dough and... batter? Like the lingering smell of the occasional Cake Hound attack. That was the first thing that registered in Pure Vanilla’s senses as he got lost in his friend’s frantic mumblings. Then, he noticed how dark and dreary this place was compared to the sunshine that blessed their home. Even in the deep shrubbery that was White Lily’s personal residence, the faint traces of sunlight could be seen in the sprawling vegetation was in no doubt comforting to one such as her.

Here, however? Nothing but darkness and a foreboding sense that something was... off. As if this was a place no mere Cookie was meant to be.

“The Night of Witches...”

The Night of Witches? He recalled hearing about that back in the two’s school days. Though, no Cookie was able to learn much beyond its name. Something about it being too dangerous for them. Or those who devoted themselves to its research leaving one day— like Lily did after her crime, only to never return. Sentencing their knowledge to secrecy forevermore.

That would all change tonight.

Pure Vanilla had situated himself not far from the display of desserts Lily herself hid behind. That’s when he saw... them.

Even more towering than those grand displays were three figures; cloaked in dark robes and large hats not so different from what the practicing wizards he helped train wore. Yet, their hats lacked the crispy charm their waffle cone attire had. Those jagged edges bringing with it an air of uneasiness—unlike the soft breezes that passed through his kingdom’s canyons.

“...AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THESE! THEY LOOK AMAZING!”

… huh?

“PHEW! I BAKED A TON OF COOKIES!”

Cookies? Were these the celestials that blessed them with life—

“HERE, TRY ONE! YOU’RE GONNA LOVE IT!”

The crack that reverberated through the air could only be matched by one from all those years ago— that glass-shattering sound which marked his last day as a student of the Blueberry Yogurt Academy. Pure Vanilla never imagined there would be a sound more frightening and life changing than that.

… and yet, that crunch of a Cookie—one of their own—being bitten into. It was enough to turn even one as pure and sweet as he into a trembling mess. One hand covering his mouth as to contain the emotions that threatened to spill out as tears and screams.

White Lily, meanwhile, had never been able to maintain her composure well. Even back when she committed her original sin, the immediate regret and despair she felt was evident in her cries. And her inability to escape the doomed school without the help of her dearest friend. So, it came as no surprise that this revelation sent her into a spiral of mutterings, shaking, and... resolve? No, that last one was surprising. Her insistence that Cookies she hardly knew must escape was a sign of just how much stronger their endeavors with the other three had made her.

All her courage was met with were eerie smiles and silence, however. Perhaps these Cookies had already met their fate... doomed to become the next generation of tragedies.

How cruel... how defeating, Vanilla thought. No one deserved this.

“I...”

“--AAAAAH!”

Pure Vanilla’s eyes shot open as he watched the one dearest to him back away in despair, only to then fall backwards. Off the table edge she was so precariously situated upon. From his view, he had little idea what awaited her... but he was not about to let her find out.

He was not about to let her be subjected to more suffering than she already had.

The beholder always on his person could only glare and roll its eye as Vanilla threw it aside and dashed forward. Jumping into action—literally. He pushed himself forward with the swiftness of the wind, and his hand soon met with her own bandaged one.

He pulled Lily back over the table... throwing himself into the maul of the beast in her stead.

Pure Vanilla could only smile as gravity took hold of him. Smile as he always did... even as the rising heat threatened to crumble him before his body even touched that sickly-looking dough below. Regret could come later. For now, relief came out as a few stray tears and a soft whisper, "Thank you, gods—”

…

White Lily only sat there, wide eyed and shaking as she tried to process what on Earthbread just happened. The soft plop of Vanilla’s poor body made her feel the five four stages of grief in just ten seconds. Denial: there was no way this was happening. Anger: why did this have to happen; why did they have to continue to suffer? Bargaining: please, let the hands of time turn back and reverse this. Depression: this was all her fault.

Acceptance was the logical next step, but it was far too early for such a thing.

Her mouth opened and closed as wordless breaths came from trembling lips. Until, finally, she tried uttering one thing, “Vanilla—”

“WHOSE COOKIE IS THAT?”

Lily quickly covered her mouth, both to stifle her frightened voice and hold back the bile she felt bubbling up. Quickly, she took cover behind a stray plate covered in desserts. Such a sight didn’t do much for the sick feeling in her gut, but at least it offered her cover from the stares of those witches and ever-smiling Cookies.

“LOOK, IT FELL INTO THE ULTIMATE DOUGH!”

Fell? Into the Ultimate Dough? She had little to no idea what this Ultimate Dough was, or what it meant for Pure Vanilla. However, that was perhaps more terrifying than at least knowing her friend’s fate.

“”T’IS ALRIGHT! LET’S JUST BAKE IT AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!”

… Huh?

“YEAH, LET’S BAKE IT!”

No... please—

“LET’S SEE WHAT FORTUNA HAS IN STORE!”

Thick streams of syrup ran down White Lily’s face. She wanted to scream for this all to cease so badly, and she probably would have if she could. This couldn’t be happening. This endless night... their endless suffering had to end eventually, right? From their mad dash into the night following the destruction she caused, to this night they were taught was beyond sacred...

Her endless mistakes couldn’t continue to doom them both, right!?

She could only sit and watch as those cruel hands of theirs began to knead the dough. How each tool so effortlessly and callously did its job: the flattening done by the rolling pin... the cutting of the dough with a tool she remembered gliding her hand across all those years ago. How cold and hollow such metal had been...

Was Pure Vanilla feeling all of this? All the, no doubt, painful experiences such cruel gods wrought?

White Lily became consumed by thoughts such as these. It was all so gut-wrenching to watch, and yet she couldn’t pull her gaze away. It was all so disturbingly mesmerizing.

Soon, many bodies laid across baking sheets normally used as parchment by Cookies. Could one of them be the friend she’d go to hell and back to save? She almost hoped none of them were. As the unfortunate fate of these Cookies was not lost on her.

How could it be? Such a loud crunch left a stain no amount of scrubbing and scratching could rub off.

All those poor, unfortunate souls were then moved over to the oven almost every Cookie escaped from. Perhaps what were once thought as gods had finally grew tired of their endless torture and torment... for now, at least. Soon, they’d move from simply trying their handiwork to...

No, Lily couldn’t bear to remember what The Night of Witches meant for the Cookies who fell victim to it. To witness to it all again.

She needed to get out of here. Fast.

Trembling, White Lily began forcing her old, tired limbs to move. Her staff acting as a cane to support the weight of both her body, which felt on the verge of crumbling, and her new sins. Someone needed to get out of here. Someone needed to tell this story.

Pure Vanilla’s sacrifice couldn’t be for nothing.

… That was when a wave of doom washed over her. This feeling... this... scent. She knew it well. The smell of molasses and pomegranates: Black Magic unique to the priestesshood they visited as young wizards. How... could the witches have gotten a hold of such magic?

And, more importantly, why did magic familiar to her fill Lily with such fear?

She was given no time to theorize. Rather than the sound of breaking glass or crunching of their fragile bodies, the clanking sound of metal vibrated throughout the room. Catching the attention of anyone conscious to it: including the witches and White Lily. The oven doors... they were slammed wide open through no fault of the ones using them. Whatever the answer was to her previous inquires, it was coming. Soon. She could feel it.

A whisper fell from her lips, “What—”

“Ha... HA.... AH HA HA HA HA HA!”

If her magenta irises could widen any more, they did so as that howl echoed around her. A familiar yet twisted laugh. One that was far too sickeningly sweet to mean good fortune.

It can’t be—

“Haaa... who could have known?” relief and a newfound truth came from the reborn Cookie’s lips. A truth as clear as the finest sugar crystals. “Who could have known it was so simple!! All the world’s problems... they all have one simple answer!!”

Another clang of metal reverberated as it slammed the fork-turned-staff against the oven. The loud noise awakening the thing on its aforementioned staff—revealing a burning cyan iris. Such an intense stare could serve as a declaration of its own, but the staff’s commander still offered its own words to those there to bear witness, “Witches... Cookies... truly, none of them have the right, nor should be given the privilege, to define our fate.”

This can’t be real.

“Reborn in a new body... and with a new name. Yes, you lot may call me Black Molasses Cookie—the one true god of this world.”

Pure Vanilla?, White Lily thought: dumbfounded and speechless.

The Witches, meanwhile, gave Black Molasses not a second of respite. Or rather, one Witch didn’t. That one fool amongst them lunged forward in an attempt to grab what was meant to be a tasty treat to them. No doubt to crush and then... eat him. He was just a Cookie, after all. What harm could he truly cause?

“Ha... foolish—”

Two eyes opened and glared at those who should terrify all Cookies: one a familiar cyan to the trembling wallflower, and the other a red that burned a hole straight through her very soul. “As I just said...” he declared “Only I get to define our fates!!”

Seeming to know what its master wanted, a soft glow emanated from the staff before a beam was fired straight towards the Witch. That which wiped one of her elongated fingers clean off. Not a drop spilled from the cauterized wound, but the smell of burning... something made Lily feel even sicker than she already did.

Meanwhile, Black Molasses laughed as his first victim wailed in agony, “HA HA!! That’s what—” his incoming tirade was interrupted when those wails and screams of the Witches turned into a mad dash, “Awww, leaving so soon? Don’t forget—you left your cakes in the oven!!”

Everything happened so fast. Cake beasts arose at the slam of his staff— awakened by its call. Their feral growls and gnawing were not directed at Cookiekind this time, however. Instead, they chased after the fleeing Witches. Bearing their fangs until they found something to sink their fangs into.

White Lily could only stare in horror at what it was.

Pained and agonized screams left the Witch who, just moments ago, had the misfortunate of losing a finger. If only all she lost tonight was that finger. Now, the beasts’ crunching fangs tore at what was left of her withering body and corrupted soul. Until not a single wail was left. And all that filled the air was a metallic scent and the howling of beasts all too pleased with their work.

“Remember this night well, everyone!!! As, tonight, I have shown the world why I am to be the one who divines and rules above all!!”

The Cakes howled louder at such a declaration.

No. No, this couldn’t be... this wasn’t her dearest friend—

“Waah...”

Finally, a much more pleasant sound registered in White Lily’s senses. A child’s voice. How had she not noticed someone so young was but a few steps away from her. Were they cowering there the entire time? Alone? Regardless, she wouldn’t let them be alone for any longer. “Young one, Do you... we need to...” A surprised gasp came as, upon closer inspection, she noticed, “Your arm—!!”

“My, my~ and what do we have here?”

There was no time for her to push the issue. Quickly, White Lily assumed a defensive position in front of the young Cookie. Or... as defensive of a pose she could assume.

Her gaze betrayed her. For the agony and fear behind her eyes served to show just how despaired she truly was. Just how much she looked at Black Molasses and knew one thing: this was all her fault. Whatever happened next could’ve been prevented if it weren’t for her twisted, curious mind. White Lily had no right to convince him otherwise, and yet she persisted, “Vanilla, I—”

“Ah, you still see that old fool in me, do you now?” not a single ounce of respect was given to what Black Molasses considered a mere fragment of his past, “Tell me, dearest Lillia.” he jeered, “You saw the same thing we all saw. You, me, and even that child... yet you look on at my divine judgement in fear. Why?”

“I...”

He sighed. “Perhaps you consider my methods too cruel? Too beneath Cookies meant to help others?” with every word used to poke at her resolve, he took a step closer to both Lily and the child she kept guard over—blue flames rising and dancing from the back of his gown, “And what of you, young one? What do you think of this night Cookies are told is blessed and holy?”

“Leave them out of--”

“Black... Molasses Cookie...?”

“There, there. I hear you, child.” with a flick of his staff, White Lily was hoisted into the air and thrown to the side like a toy who had long outlived its value. A helpless yelp punctuated the thud that followed. Black Molasses didn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, his focus shifted towards the kid, “You who lost your arm— no doubt to those infernal Witches— understands the need for the world to be rebuilt, yes?”

The child nodded, “Hm... I guess... yes.”

“Then follow me.” A gentle smile accompanied his invitation. “I can not only provide that which you need, but I can also show you a better world. One built in my image... I need but your name and devotion.”

“... Red... Velvet Cookie.” the young one responded. The simple act of sharing his name serving as an allegiance to this new Cookie’s vision.

“I see, Red Velvet...” Black Molasses mused as his hand met with the velvet-soft locks of Red Velvet’s hair. Then, his attention turned back towards Lily, “And as for you~”

The previous impact had left White Lily rather shaken and dazed, on the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. Really, it was surprising she wasn’t out like a light by now. What with the exhaustion that came with tonight’s events and the thud she had experienced earlier.

“Still awake, are we?” a crooked smile, and then Black Molasses held her chin in his hand. Directing what little of an attention span she had left towards him. Only him, “Consider my mercy, in spite of your waywardness, a blessing.” he leaned in close, crooning into her ear “I have great plans regarding you. For now, have sweet dreams... then, warn the world of my name.”

Black Molasses then let Lily’s head drop back down before turning his back to her. Leading Red Velvet away from his disciple with some remaining doubts and back towards the oven. They had a great deal of baking to do, after all. Plenty of baking... especially of one particular soul who deserved the ultimate payback.

“... not that any such warning will stop me, of course.”

And with that, White Lily slipped into unconsciousness. That sickeningly sweet laughter lingering in the air as she hoped this was all just one bad dream...

~

//Hello!! Peach (Katie) here!!!! I'd like to thank you for reading my work-- it means a lot to me that anyone would be willing to check out my writing. Trying to figure out both White Lily's internal conflicts, and how Black Molasses would differ from Dark Enchantress, was a lot of fun. I definitely want to revisit this AU both in writing and drawing over time!!

If you would be interested in anything else I do (as I'm primarily an illustrator), check me out on Twitter @peachyqueenly, A03 @Peach_KT, and instagram @peach_kt. Thank you so much again, and I look forward to bringing everyone my next creation.

Quick credit to Cookie Run Kingdom for some of the lines-- as some were remained unchanged or slightly edited to fit the scene.

[ethelphantom]

Of Flowers and Strawberries

Day 17, Baking is here! I hope you’ll enjoy it. 

Ao3

This is Maribat -- don’t like; don’t read.

____

“Okay, we’re baking now, alright? I want to show you how to make my favourite pastries. Next time we’re making yours,” Marinette told Damian one day out of the blue. He’d spent half of the day avoiding his brothers’ calls and texts, and now that they had finally quit (though only for a while, he knew that for sure), he just wanted to lie on their bed and never get up again.

And his angel had then apparently gotten a different idea and decided that wasn’t going to happen.

“Alright, love. Let’s do this,” he replied sighing, though he couldn’t deny he had a smile on his face. After all, this was his love, and and he would do anything for her. “What are we doing?”

“Fraisier! It’s been ages since I last made it and then I got the genius idea of teaching you how to do it as well!” There was a gentle, yet so very excited smile on her face as she told him what she wanted done, and Damian had to admit, even though he’d known her for years now, her smile still lit up his entire world. He didn't know what he was going to do if he one day lost it.

Well, her face lit up when she smiled and it was her that was his world, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. At least, not yet.

“Well, lead the way. Show me how this favourite of yours is done.”

Marinette walked — no, skipped — to the kitchen, dragging Damian with her by his hand. Once he might have minded it, but now? No. Now he simply smiled and wished this would never end.

“Can you please get us a pot and something to mix the ingredients with? Oh, and the milk. I’ll go find the kirsch and vanilla beans. Also, could you combine the eggs, egg yolks and sugar in a mixing bowl? I’d prefer to prepare the vanilla, and besides, my wrist is kind of dead. I wouldn’t be able to do it very well right now,” she told him before she let go of his hand and went to search for the flavourings, leaving him to somehow survive on his own.

Well, he was not about to let his girlfriend down. He would do his best, if only to make sure he didn’t ruin her favourite pastry.

When he finally thought he was done whisking them, Marinette dumped something that looked a lot like flour to the mix. “Cornstarch, keep mixing them,” she’d given her explanation before going back to what she herself was doing. Damian looked at her, his desperation for her help obvious on his face, but his girlfriend just winked at him with that ever-present smile on her face. It was clear, he was left to fend for himself.

“Are you done soon? We have to mix the warm milk and the eggs together, mon cœur,” Marinette said from where she was still watching over the milk (even though she was also making the batter at the same time. Damian really had a tendency to forget this girl had woman had grown up in a boulangerie, she could do this with her eyes closed).

They combined the milk and the egg mixture, frustrating Damian when Marinette then poured the entire thing back into the saucepan. “Why couldn’t we just put the eggs there?”

Marinette rolled her eyes fondly and giggled. “It’s because we don’t want the eggs cooking and scrambling themselves ahead of time. This way we can prevent it.”

“Of course. I should’ve guessed.”

“And now you can keep whisking this one.”

“Why do I only get to whisk everything?”

“Because you’re so very good at it, mon cœur. That’s why. Or are you saying you can’t do it?”

He scowled and grabbed the whisk. “Of course I can do i— wait.”

She just grinned as she saw he realised she’d literally gotten him to do what she wanted by basically daring him, and Damian was both thoroughly impressed and offended. This woman was going to be the end of him one day for certain.

They mostly worked in silence aside from the few tips Marinette gave him every now and then after she finally bothered with finding a recipe for him to follow. They got the actual cake batter done soon and put into oven, and while the cake was baking, Marinette had them cut strawberries and roll the almond paste she had found somewhere. Damian had just blinked and then she’d somehow suddenly had it already. Oh well. After all, she was an angel, or at least his angel. Maybe she could just magic it into her hands.

Quite some time later, they were finally ready to assembly the cake. Marinette placed all they needed on the counter, and Damian wasn’t completely sure how all of this was supposed to make a nice cake like Damian knew Marinette would want it to be. He didn’t even know what any of this — except for the strawberries and almond paste — was supposed to taste like as Marinette had forbidden him from eating anything.

Until now, anyway.

“Open wide, you can now taste this!”, she exclaimed, holding up a spoon full of yellowish cream. He distantly recognised it as the thing they had first done. He obediently opened his mouth and Marinette fed him the spoonful. It was perhaps a little too sweet to his tastes, but at least he got a great idea for teasing from it.

“It’s good, though a little too sweet—”

“It’s supposed to be sweet, Dames.”

“But, it’s still not as sweet as you.”

Mari looked at him with eyes wide before she squealed and hid her face from him. “ God , you always make me blush so much”, she mumbled, keeping her face buried behind her hands.

Damian laughed and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, slowly peeling her hands off her face. As he finally got to see her expression, he smirked and kissed her temple. “Aw, you’re blushing like a rose, habibti. You’re so adorable.”

“I— You— Damn you, Dames. We need to do the rest of this before you kill me by complimenting me too much.”

They lined up the strawberries around the edges of the cake tin and then put a lot of filling there, covering both the first layer of the cake and the strawberries. Then another layer of strawberries, cake and yet more filling.

He watched his girlfriend with a genuine smile on his face as Marinette wiped her forehead with her wrist, content with their work up until that point. It was just then as she looked up, going red once again as she saw his expression. “Can please flowers you get— I mean, could get-you the flowers please— Argh can you please go get the sugar flowers I made earlier?”

“Of course, habibti, anything for you.” He stayed there, still a gentle smile on his face, though, waiting to see her reaction.

“I— Damian, you— You jerk! Quit smiling at me! You know I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that!”

He just laughed at her before he went to get the flowers from the other counter top. The flowers were white and a little sparkly as there was edible glitter on them. Damian smiled looking at them and glanced over to where he remembered Marinette had once been, all of her concentration focused on placing the almond paste upon the cake.

Now Damian arranged the white sugar flowers upon the cake. They reminded him of the white lilies and carnations he had gotten for her funeral. He had made sure he knew how to bake fraisier for her funeral, as it had been her favourite those few years he still had left with her. If he could do nothing else to honour her as he had failed to protect her, he needed to at the very least bake her favourite to the last place where they would be present at the same time.

There was a bouquet of crimson, pink and white roses on the table in a vase, and a single pink carnation lay next to them. The flower he had decided to get later, deciding he needed to have that in her bouquet as well.

And, beside them, there was a small box containing a sapphire ring with a double halo, never been worn by anyone, and it was never going to be found in anyone’s finger either.

Damian had never gotten the chance to propose, and now it was too late.

____

Lilies represent the restored innocence of the soul of the departed, white carnations convey pure love and innocence, crimson roses denote grief and sorrow, pink roses signify love, grace and gentility, white roses express reverence, innocence and youthfulness, pink carnations stand for remembrance. So yeah. Uh. Sorry? Feel free to yell at me if I hurt your feelings. I did say that this was fluff and angst so like,,,, but yeah you can scream at me if you want to.

_____

@ladysblackcat @daminett4life @tinyterror333 @annabellabrookes @7-sage-7 @theyellowfeverexperience @thethirdwheelfriend @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @kris-pines04 @daminette-december2019 @bluerosette23

[tightaroundthewebshooter]

La Petit Morte pt.2

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt. 4 

Harley Keener/Peter Parker

CW: non-graphic murder, minor character deaths, non-graphic smut

read on ao3

_________

California was a day and night's difference from the rainy Seattle woods.

The beach brought back memories they both shed tears over, and every now and then they thought they saw her in the crowd.

But it was never really her.

They had gotten a hotel, a nice one, the rooms were big, almost like an entire house, and they wondered how long they could stay there cause for the first time in a long while they felt like they were somewhat at home.

They loved the way the sun would shine through their curtains as they laid in bed, loved the way the breeze would blow in when they needed it most, with Harley on top and inside of Peter, loved the way the night was just the right temperature to still sleep comfortably.

But in a way they also hated those things.

Because the sun made sure they had to limit their love.

Harley couldn't plant any more blue and purple roses on Peter's stomach so the ones that still lingered had turned green and yellow and brown. And Peter couldn't tear Harley apart anymore, because the sun would show his silver ragdoll stitches and they knew people wouldn't understand why Harley needed to be taken apart every now and then.

So after two weeks of loved and hated sunshine Peter made it clear they would need to hunt again.

And Harley couldn't agree more.

The problem was that everyone around them looked like her.

And not in the beautiful and pure way faery boy did, more like caricatures, sick jokes and terrible imitations.

But then Peter spotted her, standing by an ice cream stand, lips like roses, eating a vanilla ice cream cone, such an enormous contrast to her midnight skin that the beauty of it almost hurt.

She was a world of difference and Peter wanted her.

He subtly gestured her way as he simply whispered "Her." to Harley.

As soon as Harley saw her he agreed. She was exactly what they needed.

Peter walked over and she smiled when he called her Rosy, she laughed at his shy flirtations, she agreed to hang out with him and Harley when he told her they weren't local and had no idea where to go.

When he introduced her to Harley as Rosy she didn't correct him.

They spent their day going from shop to shop on the boulevard, talking and laughing and lying.

As the sun sets they headed back to their hotel pool with her and a small voice in the back of Harley's mind reminded him they had avoided the beach. He knew that voice and that was exactly the reason why they had not set a foot onto the sand that day.

The pool was lit by pure moonlight and Rosy looked like ink in the water.

She floated on her back as Harley and Peter swam in circles around her, a painted water ballet.

Her hair seemed to stretch out endlessly on the small waves they created and her ink fanned out from her body as she sank to the bottom of the pool and bounced back up.

They drank her in like poison.

The stars illuminated the silver lines of the water on her skin, the shine and glow of it all enthralled them.

But when the stars faded and the moon went to shine somewhere else, Rosy was no more.

Her lips were dawn blue and her skin was a mix of sunset red and ashy grey.

They left her alone in the pool and went back to their room to pack their bags and wash away the ink and chlorine.

When they walked to their car she was still there, but they paid no more attention to her.

She had turned into a caricature of herself, just like how everyone else had been a caricature of her.

California felt cold that morning.

Vegas was bright.

It outshone the stars and the moon and even the hot desert sun.

They loved the bright lights, they blended in with them. Everyone was crazy and they felt comfortable knowing their crazy didn't stick out as much here. Blue and purple roses bloomed again. Silver thread was spun once more.

For a while they didn't need anyone else, they had each other and that was plenty. Too much at points, but they managed. They always did.

They heard rumors that Rosy had become a star on the six o'clock news but they didn't care. She was in their past and they had only looked back on that once.

They gambled and won in the casino's, they danced and loved in the clubs and they sang and screamed at concerts in the desert.

They ran on adrenaline and smiles for days until they collapsed on a bed or a sofa or a soft surface somewhere.

And then one night, when they hadn't even so much as thought about hunting again for weeks, someone presented themselves.

Literally.

They were sitting near a campfire in the desert, a few feet from someone strumming a guitar and a few people dancing.

Harley had silver threads wound up and down his arms and neck and Peter was painted in roses from waist to crown.

Suddenly there was a vision, a fata morgana; a person, dressed in white flowing fabric came walking towards them from the depths of the desert, their long brown hair hanging down to their waist and adorned with flowers.

But this fata morgana was real. And they called themselves X. And for the first time since her, they went with it.

X was beautiful and broken and when X asked them to be fixed they knew exactly what to do.

Their reputation had prevailed them. Honey boy and Rosy had told stories about them. Only Faerie boy had been quiet. And X was in love with their tales. X wanted to be part of them.

X wanted to bloom like a crimson rose in the desert and Peter and Harley were the ones X had chosen to be planted by.

They didn’t do requests, not anymore, but X was different.

X knew exactly what they were asking and they couldn't resist. It would be unlike anything they had ever done before, but then again, Vegas was unlike any place they had ever been before. It fit like the others had not.

So they took X into the desert.

They blasted music from their car and made a campfire of their own, away from the crowds. They danced and smiled and cried and X started to bloom, petal by crimson petal.

They made art, the three of them. They had planted a garden and X would be their sunflower on a pedestal. Next to their wilting lily of her.

It was a harmony of destroying and creating that amazed them in its difference.

X was being torn to shreds while being pieced together at the same time.

Silver blades hacked away at marble to reveal what had been inside the stone all along.

White fabric fluttered in the wind as long brown curls tangled and formed into a crown.

The stars shone long and bright that night, as the darkness seemed to last forever.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the first shy rays of sunlight laid their soft hands upon their garden, and saw a flower in bloom, standing proudly in the desert sand, a flecked flora of white, brown, and red.

Their work was done and Peter, Harley and X all smiled in unison.

As they got into their car, paint and dirt still covering their happy faces, they shared a soft kiss that would last them for miles.

[xweofmanyfaces]

A (late) drabble for James’s birthday

@pranking-masters

     How was she supposed to do something for him for his birthday without letting him know that she liked him? It was nearing the end of the school year in fifth year and her crush was becoming harder and harder to hide but she knew she had no choice, she couldn’t let him know she liked him. He was James fucking Potter after all, she wasn’t exactly proud of liking him. After everything he done to Severus, all the pranks he had pulled, could he really be forgiven? But ever since she had blown up at him after what happened with Severus, after the… Incident, everything had been different. He had apologized and was going out of his way to be kind to her, he was being downright sweet. And she found the best part of her day was each day when he would smile at her, even if she wished it wasn’t. But looking into those eyes, those eyes like sunflowers in an open field, she had never known more beauty than that. She was falling for him, quickly and heavily, like rain in an unforgiving storm. She couldn’t help herself, how could she be expected to? He was James fucking Potter.

     She had talk to Remus about it, though not in so many words. He had mentioned his birthday but she had pretended to seem uninterested, asking him if he and the other marauders had any special plans for his birthday. He was going to be turning 16 after all, it was an important birthday. She had just turned 16 two months prior, and she could remember James making a comment about liking older women. She had pretended to be annoyed but in actuality it warmed her heart he had remembered her birthday at all. It made her want to do something for his birthday, even if it wasn’t something that she would tell him was from her, even if she didn’t want to admit she had a crush on him, even if it was an incredibly massive crash. She didn’t want to risk getting her heart broken, didn’t want to risk him changing his mind once he actually had her. No, she would be safer than that. She would do something for him and not tell him it was from her, it would be better that way.

     She had spent over a week trying to figure out what to give him, she wanted to give him something meaningful. She didn’t want to give him just some normal trinket, something that anyone else could or would gift him. She wanted to give him something to show she cared without even being from her, something to give him so that he knew that someone somewhere wanted good things for him. And then it hit her – a dream catcher. One of the most wonderful gifts that Lily had ever been gifted was a dream catcher that her father had given her when she was a child, something that he gave her and promised that it would catch all the bad dreams and leave her with only good things at night. She slept with it above her bed every night at home and when she went off to Hogwarts her father sent it with her, and now she kept it hanging by her bed in her dorm room. She wanted him to have good dreams, so she decided that a dream catcher would be the perfect thing to give him.

     It was rather hard to get a hold of a dream catcher here, but she managed it and bought it with some extra pocket money. It was a beautiful dream catcher, all in red with white feathers hanging from the bottom of it. She hoped he would like it, that it would bring him good dreams. She wanted more than anything for him to be happy, even if she wouldn’t admit it to his face. She would never admit to him how hard she had fallen for him, how much she cared about him, how crazy she was about him. But this she could do. She was also terribly lucky that Hogwarts had a rule that the girls could go into the boys dorms but the boys could not go to the girls dorms, giving her the ability to go up to the room the marauders all shared with each other when she knew the boys weren’t there.

     She looked between all the beds trying to figure out which one was his, the dream catcher held tightly in her hands. She could tell which one belonged to Sirius because it was the most messy, the one that no one had even tried to make. Remus was easy, he had the most perfectly made bed. But then that left the one to the far left and the one in between Remus and Sirius. Which was James and which was Peter? As she looked between the two beds she noticed they were made up similarly, and her brow furrowed.  As she looked between the beds her eyes fell upon the storage trunks at the end of each bed, noticing that one of them had a book on it. She walked up to the bed and smiled brightly, the book was a book on Quidditch. That had to be James, she just knew it.

     She lay the dream catcher on his bed, sitting on top of it a small square piece of paper with the words happy birthday written on it, nothing else there to let him know who it was from. She hoped he would like it, the only bad part of her plan was that she wouldn’t know if he had because he wouldn’t tell her. She hoped he would have a good birthday, she hoped the dream catcher would help to fight off any nightmare he should ever have, and she hoped that even though he wouldn’t know who the gift was from, he would know it came from someone who cared. 

     Lily was usually such a clever person, but as she walked out of the boys dorm room she didn’t seem to understand how many clues had been left behind on her gift, that her fool proof plan was not exactly fool proof. Her handwriting was distinctive, even with something as simple as just the words happy birthday. Not only that but the smell of warm honeysuckle and vanilla clung to not only the note with the dream catcher, also hanging vaguely in the air around their room. And then there was quite possibly the most distinctive thing of all, the clue that would give it all the way – dream catchers were a purely Muggle thing.  Remus or Peter would have to explain to James what it was, she highly doubted that he or Sirius would even know what it was. She didn’t realize how much she had given herself away, that there was no way for the thoughtful gift to be anonymous when her scent was all over it. She thought she had completely gotten away with it, could care about him so much and that he would never know, oh how wrong she was.