#shadow mold cookie

[starbeamssovereign]

Can I request a Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader where the reader who has nerve damage in their leg. Also please remember to take breaks so you don’t get burnt out :)

I’m gonna get the burnout of the century just u wait 😀 /j (I actually take breaks by playing pjsk)

Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader w/ Nerve Damage hcs

Summary: Shadow Milk Cookie (pre-beast) and you are in an established relationship. Your leg has nerve damage and he tries to help you out in any way he can 🩵 💙

TW: None…? I guess?

First off, he’s very worried about your state. He doesn’t want you to get damaged more, and so he tries to find anything he can about nerve damage and if it could be treated. After all, he’s the Virtue of Knowledge for Witches sake! He just wants to see you safe and happy. That’s what he wants for everyone after all!

Shadow Milk loves loves loves to massage your legs if you ask him to, and he takes the upmost caution whenever you two go somewhere together.

He holds you close and carries you around, saying that it’s just to help you. (It is, but he also just wants to hold you close to him like you’re a prince/princess)

Why would he want you staying cooped up in the house like you’re some sort of prisoner? That’s like- SUPER mean! :(

He tried asking some of the other Virtue Cookies (yes that’s what I call them) if there was anything he could do to help you more

Silent Salt gave you some crutches (don’t ask where they got them from)

The crutches were a little big, but before long you were moving around to your heart’s content…

The stairs were a little tricky (I know the feeling, I have crutches right now-)

So Shadow Milk picked you up and carried you whenever he was around

Omg wait what if he makes puppets of you and him holding hands and walking around 😭

[jarofstyles]

Deception and Dive Bars- Verboten

Don't yell at me I promise we are getting into the good stuff <3 bff dadrry is back!

Patreon- the next 3 parts are up there and will be here in the coming weeks!

Warnings- angst, uncomfy talk, hint of slut shaming, jealousrry

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Y/N knew something was wrong. 

She’d had a tummy ache the entire night. She knew she didn’t want to be out, she knew all she had wanted was to be at Harry’s House, snuggled in his bed where he would warn her not to get cookie crumbs in his sheets with a stern look over his glasses before he would steal a bite from her hand. That had been the original plan until she had been backed into a corner by none other than Lia herself.

She had meant well. Y/N knew she did. She had wanted to help out, make Y/N happy and step out of her comfort zone, but it had been miserable. Setting her up for a date with one of her girlfriend’s friends had been a disaster, but she had no excuse she could tell her to say no. 

They’d done out as a double date and Y/N had checked her phone the whole time, but he hadn’t texted her back. That ache in her stomach had traveled to her head, a pounding headache sprouting at her temples from the loud bar music and the guy who had been trying desperately to impress her the entire night. 

There was nothing wrong with Micheal. He was a really nice guy, he made decent money, he had good conversation skill and he wasn’t bad looking- but he wasn’t Harry. He didn’t have those green eyes and raspberry pink mouth and the 5 o’clock shadow, he didn’t wear the right rings or have the accented voice, he didn’t had that curl that hung over his forehead and the long fingers what reached out to adjust or touch her. It wasn’t him- it was the fact he wasn’t the man Y/N was craving.

When Lia had informed her of this date, she had tried to decline and say she didn’t want to but she had been guilted. Saying that she should give him a chance, that fuck buddies weren’t forever and that she wanted to see her happy. That nasty, molding seed of guilt she had been carrying in her stomach had grown to fill the entirety of her abdomen. What was she supposed to say? She did have a man she could see a future with, a man who made her happy and fulfilled her in every way possible, but he just so happened to be her father? She would kill her. 

Y/N knew she and Harry weren’t officially dating, there was no label, and yet she felt like she was cheating. She felt horrid and yucky and she dodged Micheal’s touch the entire night, every brush of their knees making her mind stray to Harry. Their canceled documentary night. How she had a feeling he had bought her favorite popcorn and candy and set it up in the den with the plethora of fuzzy blankets. That had been her ideal night that she said she had to reschedule because she got called into work. 

It wasn’t something she wanted to do. This date, lying to Harry, missing out on precious time with him, lying to Lia, but she felt stuck. She couldn’t tell Harry because she was scared. Terrified that he would wake up and see that maybe she was too young and too naive and new to life, that he was wasting his expertise on her. It struck fear into her every time she thought about it. What was she offering him besides good sex?? What did he see in her? The girl knew she was worth a lot, that she was funny and pretty and witty but was that enough to keep a man like Harry happy for a long time? She really didn’t know. 

He didn’t answer her texts, though, and she was scared. Why hadn’t he answered? What was he doing? Y/N felt like she was on autopilot as she followed an oblivious Lia into the bathroom, blinking a few times as she felt hands on her shoulders.

“So? What do we think?” Lia’s expectant green eyes looked at her, obviously wanting some sort of status report. “He’s cute, right?” Bouncing on the tips of her feet, she was a tiny bit tipsy and it showed. She was overly excitable with alcohol. 

“Yeah.” Y/N attempted a smile. “He’s alright. I’m just not… feeling it, I don’t know.” Her eyes cast down, not wanting to hurt her feelings but also knowing she had to be showing some sort of hesitation in this. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with him. He’s really nice but I just don’t think he’s the one for me, Lia.” 

“Come on, Y/N. He’s totally your type! He’s a bit older than us too.” She wiggled her brows, trying to entice her friend. “Listen, don’t discount him too much. It’s a first meeting. I know it can be hard, but trust me. He even has Dad’s seal of approval!”

Y/N’s head snapped up so quickly she was surprised she didn’t break her neck. “What? What do you mean?” Her heart started to climb into her throat as Lia continued on, as if it was a good thing. In Lia’s eyes, it was. 

“Yeah! I had lunch with him today because he kept complaining about missing me, you know how he is. So we were eating and he asked what I was up to tonight and I told him we were going on a double date! He was kinda weird and asked about who you were going to see, so I told him he’d met Micheal before and showed a photo. He said he was a very nice guy and he’d be lucky to date you.” She hummed. “Isn’t it so cute? He’s so protective of both of us.”

Y/N was going to vomit. She felt the stinging in the back of her eyes. Harry knew, he knew and he was ignoring her and she was going to lose him altogether because she didn’t have a backbone. “D-Did he say anything else?” She croaked, blinking at her friend who twisted her lips and shook her head. 

“No, he said that the food wasn’t agreeing with him and he needed to go home. He left me money for the bill and booked it out of there. I think he got food poisoning.” Her nose scrunched in disgust. “But enough about my dad. We need to go on back there and build this up. I promise Micheal’s a great guy. I wouldn’t set you up with someone I didn’t think would be good.” 

Y/N could barely hear her. Her body felt cold and prickly, though the contradictory heat in her face was enough to let her know she wasn’t frozen solid. She had fucked up. Fucked up majorly. He had left lunch after he found out Y/N was going on a date. He had to think very badly of the situation and Y/N couldn’t blame him. She would too.  Why couldn’t she have just told him? Why did she have to be such a baby and afraid of her own feelings? Harry was one of the most understanding people she’d ever met in her life. There was no way he would be angry at her if she had just explained the situation before- but now? Now he had every right to tell her to fuck off. She wanted to fix this- needed to fix this. 

“Lia, I’m feeling a little sick too. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I need to go home, I keep feeling like I’m going to vomit.” She wasn’t lying. The rolling in her stomach from despair and nerves was real. “I’m just going to drive home. I didn’t drink. Tell him I said thanks and what's going on.”

“Are you sure? I can drive you-” Lia babbled, looking sad for her friend without realizing she was indeed  tipsy herself. She just didn’t want to leave Y/N sick and by herself. “I’ve got tums in my purse-” Digging through it, she tried to find the mini bottle she kept around. 

“Thank you, babe, but you’re tipsy and you need those more than me. I’ll stop by the pharmacy on my way home. Just go have fun.” She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “I’ll text you later.”

She couldn’t stop the bubbled sob as she got behind the wheel of her car, slamming her hand against the steering wheel. Damn it. Damn it! She had been so hesitant, her gut told her not to do it and now she had potentially messed up the best thing she had going for her. This feeling was tearing her up, knowing that Harry probably thought this was something she willingly agreed to. Sitting home, disappointed and sad. He was a grown man, yes, but he had such tender emotions that Y/N knew were easy to hurt. She’d seen beyond the glass. 

Tearing into gear, she made her way to his house, hopeful he would listen.

—-

Perhaps it wasn’t the best move to use the key he had given her to get into the house when he had been actively avoiding her all day, but she was terrified that he wouldn’t let her in. That he would shut the door on her face and not give her a chance to explain. 

Toeing her shoes off, she sniffled as she placed her bag down and padded into the house. It was mostly silent, the lights dim as she walked into the hall. “H-Harry?” Her weak voice called out, hands shaking slightly as she saw the brightest light being the kitchen. The water was running. She could hear it as she got closer, the clink of glasses and the steady stream coming from the faucet. 

His back was stiff, tenseness visible on his broad shoulders as he continued to wash the dishes in the sink. He’d heard her, but didn’t reply. Stepping further into the room, she sniffed again before saying his name, making him pause his movements for a second. If she’d blinked, it would have been missed.

“Thought you were working.” His voice was calm, but echoed with hollowness. He didn’t turn to look at her, but he didn’t yell. Somehow, this felt worse. 

“I-I know Lia told you.” The whisper was weak, her eyes going to her feet. She stood behind the counter, keeping quiet as she waited for him to reply. It felt like she was going to be scolded and she hated it. She hated that Harry was upset and she had been the cause. 

“Oh, that?” A humorless laugh left his lips as he clenched his marbled jaw, looking down at the clean dish he continued to wash. “Yeah, that definitely was a shock. Wasn’t sure which lie you were going t’go with.” The bitterness tasted foul even on his own tongue, but he couldn’t help it. The betrayal bled from his heart, unsure where he had missed the signs. 

“H-Harry.” She croaked. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I promise. I just-” She was cut off as the water shut off, hands dried by the dishtowel next to him. He turned around to face her, and she suddenly wished he had continued in the sink. The look on his face would haunt her, she was sure of it. 

His jaw was tight, lips thin and eyes puffy. Paler than usual, he looked… he looked awful. She didn’t want to assume it was because of her, but the reaction was making it clear that she was to blame. 

“You what, Y/N?” He asked tightly. Her heart sank as she was referred to by name. No baby, no pet, no sweetheart, no love, just her name. “What could you possibly say that’s an appropriate excuse for lying?” His eyes bore into her, irritation coating his words as he spoke next. “Can you look me in the eye when you’re trying to lie to me again?”

It stung. It hurt in her stomach, she felt almost ill when she met his eyes and saw the coldness. The guard was back up. No more softness, no more warmth that blossomed in his features when she propped herself up in front of him. Like she was a stranger. “No! No, I’m not trying to lie.” She squeaked, irritated with herself for feeling so defenseless. “I just didn’t want you to think that I didn’t want to come over. That I wanted to go out over spending time with you-”

“Well, you didn’t seem that upset earlier. Saw those photos Lia posted. Looked really cozy with that guy.” The words felt caustic, tearing up her stomach as his gaze matched the tone. “Did you have fun? Is he nice?” Sarcasm laced his tone as he leaned against the counter, arms crossing his chest as he watched her face wince. 

“N-No. I didn’t have fun. I was trying to be polite, but I kept thinking about you!” Her exclamation was hoarse, feeling intimidated by the new demeanor. Harry had never been this way with her in the past, and it was just as scary as she had imagined. Usually being wrapped in the soft cocoon of his affection, being ripped out of the cottony confines had been a shock to her system.

“That’s interesting.” He retorted. “You were thinking about me while on a date with another man? Letting him pose with his arm around you?” His eyes were dark, nose flaring as she tried to explain it away. “Y/N, I’m a grown man. I don’t have time for games. I don’t want to play whatever little girl shit this is. I thought we had a connection, but I suppose I fell into it a bit too deep to understand that you like to see what’s out there.” He muttered. “ Should have let it be just what you wanted. A good time and a good fuck. My mistake. At least I got one thing out of it.” The words were too much, and he regretted them as soon as he said them, but his gaze remained steely. His pride was wounded, and one of his bad traits was hitting where it hurts.

Y/N visibly recoiled, feeling like she had been smacked with those words. She knew he was hurt- but is that how he thought of her?

“I never said this was a game.” She said slowly. “I thought we had a connection too, but apparently you think I’m a little girl and that I’m just a good time. An easy fuck.” She spit, eyes glazing with tears all over again. “I’m sorry your feelings were hurt. If you’d given me even a second to explain without interrupting me and letting your insecurities eat you alive, you’d know I was basically forced to go out by your daughter and she didn’t take no for an answer.” Her chest was heaving as she tried not to let the sob that wanted to escape from coming out. The tears were bad enough.

If possible, Harry stiffened further as he cocked his head. “What do you mean forced you?” 

“Oh, for fucks sake. Don’t pretend to care now.” She hissed. “If you’d given a fuck about anything other than your pride, you’d be that grown man you claim to be before making assumptions. It was wrong of me to go out, I should have just told you the situation, but I was scared.” She backed away from the counter, making some more space between them. “But it’s obvious now what this was to you. Having so little faith in me, I can see where this was headed.” She turned to leave but felt him follow her behind him. 

“Now wait a fucking second. Stop.” He called to her, hot on her heels. “No. You don’t get to do that. Tell me what you meant.” 

“Don’t.” Y/N recoiled when he tried to touch her, making his chest ache. She’d always leaned into him, never away. “Your daughter was saying I’d done enough fucking around and I deserved a man to treat me right. To take me out. And since I don’t tell her about what we do, she think’s I’ve just had a fuck buddy. Which…” She paused, sneering slightly. “Maybe that’s all this fucking was. She told me that I owed her a solid and Micheal had been interested in me for a bit, that I should give it a shot. She said I didn’t have a choice. You know your daughter. She’s relentless and I didn’t have an excuse as to why I couldn’t go.”  

Harry knew she was right. Lia was a force to be reckoned with. She wasn’t one who took no for an answer and if Y/N didn’t have a real excuse, she wasn’t going to let it go. This was something he hadn’t considered. It still didn’t make sense though. Why hadn’t she just told him? Why had she lied?

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He asked, throwing his arms up in the air. “I’d have thought by now you’d know you could tell me fucking anything. I thought… We both knew it was beyond sex, Y/N. You knew it would hurt me and that’s why you didn’t tell me, but why couldn’t you have at least talked to me about it? That’s what adults do.” The words were stressed as he took her in. The girl was more than upset and he knew it- but so was he.

“Do you think I wanted to? Risking telling you, risking all of this because your daughter, my best friend, was suspicious as to why I wasn’t dating, why I wouldn’t tell her who I was fucking around with and spending my time with? Don’t you see that I’m terrified you’d realize, like you already have, that I’m young and different and not like the girls you’ve dated? I’m inexperienced in a lot of shit, I can be immature, that you could do miles better than me?” She cried, bottom lip trembling as she watched his posture soften slightly. “I didn’t want to chance it. But I ruined it anyways. You think I’m a little girl who’s an easy fuck. Young pussy to break up the mature ladies you should be dating so they can keep up with you.” The words were hissed as she went to grab her bag, but Harry moved forward, bracing an arm on the wood to keep the door closed.

“No. You’re not running away. We’re talking about this.” His voice was softer now, trying to catch her eyes as he felt his heart thump in his throat. “I didn’t mean that. I was angry and I-I shouldn’t have said that. I wanted to hurt you because you hurt me, but I don’t think that you’re an easy young girl, you aren’t just a fuck to me. I wouldn’t be this upset if you were.” His hands moved to place her bag back down, trying to catch her eye.

“Hey… Look at me, Y/N.” 

His body pulsed with hurt when she did. Fear, exhaustion, insecurity. He could see it all as another fresh round of tears pooled from her ducts, trailing down her cheeks. “Why?” She whispered. “Why should I stay? All I’d wanted to do is say I was sorry and hoped you’d listen to me but I will not stand here and let another man in my life degrade me. I’m good for more than my body. Maybe it started that way, but I am more than a sexual object you get to be possessive of.”

Her shaky voice made him swallow thickly, cursing to himself as he realized he had definitely fucked up with letting his anger get the best of him. At the same time, he was proud of her for setting that boundary, for saying that to him. He deserved it. “I know. I know you are. That’s why it hurt my feelings so much, darling. Can’t you see that?” He stressed. “ M’not possessive because you’re a toy of mine and I don’t want someone else to touch. M’angry because I’m insecure and nervous. I thought I’d taken it more seriously and that you didn’t care about me that way. That I’d read it all wrong.” His nails scored his palms as he tried to keep from reaching from her. When she didn’t make a move to leave again, he continued. 

“I was worried about the same things. That you’d get tired of seeing an older man. M’not exactly one for going to a club or drinking, my knees aren’t what they used to be, I like to golf, read, m’a homebody. I was…” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Seeing those photos and knowing that you were going on a date with someone that most would deem more age appropriate, it made all those things come right back to me.” 

Y/N looked up finally, her brows narrowed as she met his eye. As much as it killed him to see them red and teary, there was some relief knowing she could at least look at him. 

“Harry- I like those things about you.” She whispered. “I like that you're older, I love it actually. Do you know how secure I felt around you? How much I loved that you weren’t trying to drag me out to a bar I didn’t want to go to? I loved our nights here, cooking and swimming and watching things. I had my share of exploring that shit in uni and I didn’t really like it all that much. I don’t care that you like golf, even though I’d be bored- I’d come with you and sit in the cart. I like you because you made me feel like I could be myself around you.” Her arms curled in on themselves, not liking how exposed she felt under her gaze. 

Harry’s shoulders fell, eyes following suit as he looked at the floor. A stressed hand ran over his face as he tried to gather himself from the bouts of emotion that ripped through him. He had been angry, and that was justified, but the things he had said were not. He had hurt her, and he hoped that he hadn’t damaged them too badly. 

“I’m sorry.” The words were quiet, looking back at her again. He hated how she looked so small. So sad. Even in her pretty dress, she looked so uncomfortable and to know he was the cause of it made him want to sink to his knees and beg for forgiveness. It was not at all how he imagined this interaction going. 

“You should be.” Y/N peeped. The things he said had hit her right in the stomach, leaving a residual ache in her body. “I’m sorry for going out with that guy and lying to you. But you- you get why I did, right?” The hesitance was evident, not wanting to start a fight all over again but longing for his understanding. 

“I do.” He took a hesitant step forward sighing in relief internally when she uncrossed her arms. “I do. I’m sorry I was so cruel to you.” His hand reached out, Y/N allowing him to wipe away her tears, the familiar palms making her lip tremble a bit harder. “Hey, Darling… No. No more tears. It’s breaking my heart.” His tone was miles different that before, the gentleness returning to it that she had missed so much. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be alright. M’sorry. We both made a mess, didn’t we?” 

The soothing hands moved as she nodded her head, blinking up at him with her glossy eyes. “I didn’t want to go on a date with anyone except you.” The confession was laced with an uneven inhale, shaky as she moved forward. “I don’t like him. I never did. I wanted our movie night a-and I hope that this isn’t ruined because I really like you. I like us.” 

The words were a peep, a soft little confession that had his chest inflating and crackling at the same time. She was so nervous about this, and instead of listening to what she had to say, he had been impulsive. But she confessed to really liking him, liking them together. That was more than he had expected from tonight. 

“Yeah? D’you?” His lips twitched up, wiping the last of her tears away before placing a hand on her back, tugging her into his embrace. 

“Yeah.” Y/N melted right into it, into his chest as her face nuzzled against the warmth he provided. Just as the world intended, he thinks. 

“Good. This mean you’ll be mine properly? No more dancing around what we are… no more dates, you can say you’re seein’ someone properly?” Momentarily he shifted, nudging her chin up to look at him. God, he loved those eyes. “Because I’m serious about this. If you let me, we can be really good together.” 

Y/N nodded, clutching his shirt in her palms with a smile that faded slightly as something else came to her mind. “But-But what are we going to do about Lia?”

The infamous question. What were they going to do about his daughter?

“Why don’t we figure out our relationship first, and then worry about her. We obviously have some things to iron out.” His fingers pinched her chin, offering up a soft smile to her. “It’s something that we will need to think about but.. I think we were doing a good job of keeping it to ourselves. I don’t intend to hide you, but I think we need to work out our things before I get to show you off.” He knew people would have a lot to say and they both needed to be secure in their relationship before other people were brought into the picture. They needed time to grow together. Unfiltered time that they could spend learning each other without a worry. 

“I agree, actually.” Y/N leaned back against him. “This is why you’re the daddy. You have good ideas.. Sometimes.” She pressed a kiss to his chest. Breaking through that tension as she was so good at, it did something to his brain that scratched an itch. Her natural steps fit so well with his instincts, he knew it had to mean something.  Harry relaxed. It wasn’t the end of them, like he thought. This was just the beginning.

[soscarlett1twas]

20% Convergence

↳ You and Elias watch the eclipse together ↳ 540 words / also available on ao3! ↳ A quick, unedited flash piece for the North American eclipse; hope y'all enjoy <3

Elias handed you a pair of glasses, shockingly flimsy for their protection. You opened the wings and pushed them back into your hair.

“How mad will your dad be about this?” It was a partial joke, though mostly not – you’d rather face a bullet than Warden’s wrath.

Elias laced his hands into yours. “Fuck that. Let him be pissed.” And he whisked you out the door, finally done punching in the keycode.

Outside was slightly dimmed, only noticeable through the knowledge that it was supposed to be. The sky was grayer; the shadows uneven and calm; a world seemingly stopped for the hiding sun.

You entertain the thought for a moment. How many were just like them, trailing the sky for a glimpse at the phenomena?

Rough hands glide the glasses down over your eyes and the world goes dark. You open your mouth in protest before they move your head upwards, and it comes into view.

The sun is ablaze, vivid with unpatternable fire, making a color so dark and vibrant it seemed otherworldly. And the moon was nothing, a cookie-cutter to the sun.

It was a reversal in every way: The sun, normally so bright that it defined the moon with its glow, became molded by the umbra.

But above all else, it was beautiful.

Minutes pass as you both bask in the rarity, Elias not letting a moment go without explaining a facet of it. Ultraviolet to orbits mesh in his voice. You barely understood a word, but the passion was familiar.

As the sun became more obscured, you felt a chill seep into the air: Something deeper than any breeze, cold in more than just the temperature. The sun, and thus its warmth, was being cut off.

You draw your hands around yourself, knitting a tight blanket of arms to combat the rising bumps on them. “Maybe we should grab a blanket…” you say, having waited for a moment he seemed to take a dip in his rants.

Elias glances at you before looking back to the sky. Continuing in his explanations, he slips his leather jacket off and places it around your shoulders.

His hands work down from the shoulders to your waist, wrapping them around it before propping his head right where his hands used to be. He constricts, and you’re pulled closer to him. With every breath is a fleeting patch of warmth. Smoke has never smelt so romantic.

You feel like the eclipse: So close, and yet so far. Selfishly, you wish to be closer to him, your lips on his, hands not blocked by the jacket. So you lean in, a kiss peppered to his cheek.

He smiles, pulling up his cheek into a crooked hook – and you look back to the sky.

You stay like that until the moon reaches its zenith, a measly twenty percent of coverage here in California, but alluring all the same.

For a moment, you tilt the glasses down to catch a glimpse of Elias. That ever-growing smile, waxing in rhythm with the eclipse, is all you needed. Even with shaded eyes his affections lay bare. You lean back into his shoulder and let yourself drift with the moon, which began its climb back down.

[brittle-doughie]

Hello! It's been awhile hasn't it?

Could I get the Dragon cookie's x Oldest sibling reader

Where reader is the DragonLord Placidusax from elden ring, can I get this request to be set in the part where the dragon's were in a standoff with each other. But their battle shook the earth that it unearthed a supposed long dead dragon, and they all see a large shadow hidden in the storm soon revealing itself to be reader, in a state of decay similar to Placidusax, and reader had lost all semblance of sense so long ago, and just like in the game you fight Placidusax.

All I got from the wiki is that the dragon's were born from A volcano in the tropical archipelago, so I headcannon them as siblings with a difficult relationship.

If you can't tell I'm a sucker for heavy/dark angst especially when the mc dies, I'm not a sick person, I just think that an important character dying just gives so much emotion to those who held them dear and would make their character develop. And that's why I send you request of reader dying because your one of the few writers who allow that.

I'm hope this request isn't a bother, I tend to make them long length wise and I add way too much details on my part.

I hope you have a good day!

Molded, Battered, Whole (The Five Dragons)

The spear attack is pretty cool. Hope this does your request justice!

In the fight against Longan Dragon Cookie, the amount of power exhilarated by the five dragons rumbled the land of Earthbread. Power that would soon awaken something ancient, something powerful, something once thought to be the stuff of legend, soon to become reality.

The volcano within the archipelago was surrounded by vicious storms, red lightning littered the dark and cloudy skies as the land rumbled. Longan themself was taken aback by this sudden feeling of power in the atmosphere if only for a little bit, with their eyes opening up more for a second

Pitaya Dragon was more enthusiastic compared to the others as this sense of power brung them the possibility of fighting something or someone that had substantial power compared to them!

Ananas Dragon was more steadfast, wondering exactly who was exerting this sense of power, it certainly wasn’t coming from Longan! This intense pressure was coming from somewhere else, within that sudden storm to be more specific

Lotus Dragon pondered on the source of this energy they were feeling. Like Ananas, they didn’t believe it was coming from Longan since, admittedly, this power was on a different level to that of Longan. So exactly who was this dragon that’s making them feel this way…?

Lychee Dragon chirped as they were quick to announce the situation, even before Longan could say anything. This level of power was familiar! This realization struck the dragons all together! No way…it couldn’t be…

Was that Y/N Dragon Cookie?! The fabled eldest 6th dragon?! They were thought to be mere myth! Having been sighted WAY before the other dragons showed up, even before Longan!

If the gaze of Longan was enough to have cookies freeze up, then your presence alone would do that and a glare would send them to the ground. The time spent in this world and the time you’ve been slumbering has not done your appearance any favors.

Your colors were faded, wings and scales scarred and even crumbling in some places. Your arms and legs against the test of time haven’t fared so well that even tiny bits of mold started to form. The aforementioned scars also littered areas of your body, their origin a mystery. The look of your dough was grey and your eyes were glossed over and faded, it would be a fair assumption to think you were blind.

Though the red lightning strike towards the dragons coming VERY close indicates otherwise. You didn’t put much behind it and it was still considered incredibly strong by the others’ standards

“Heehee, looks like they’re a little cranky after waking up from their nap!”

“If they were really all there, you’d be reduced to dust. Their aim is impeccable, something is not right…”

“I’ll tell you what! Maybe a fight will snap them out of it!”

“Longan: Don’t underestimate Y/N Dragon, time has not been the best for them, but they still have the capability of erasing you from existence. Even I would be steadfast here.”

“All the more exciting to me!”

“Ananas: Normally I too wouldn’t consider this if alone, but with all of us here, we might have a chance.”

Even with the odds of numbers on their side, it was an extremely tough battle. Disappearing into storm clouds, lightning slashes from your claws, even a lightning spear that you detonated right in their faces, sending them backwards. Fighting back only seemed to make you use all your moves faster and in more frequency.

It seemed Longan was capable of handling many hits from you, but good lord did they still hurt. They even considered using their dragon form for this fight!

Pitaya was thrilled to be fighting a incredibly strong opponent, even if it was their eldest sibling. The absolute power in your attacks gave them a sense of a rush they’ve never felt before!

Snide remarks were absent from Lychee as they actually had to take this fight seriously, your attacks actually seem to have malicious intent behind them! That was just mean! Even if you weren’t completely sane in the head!

Lotus actually getting their hands dirty here as a fight with you meant all of the dragons had to play their part here. The loss of energy meant really needing to hit you where it hurts!

Ananas was actually surprised that you were exactly as powerful as the others made you out to be. This was quite the drop in confidence for them with how you meant business, but he tried to shake it off as they were still fighting!

It was a long and difficult battle, but in one final attack from all 5 of them, they were finally able to bring you down from your frenzy as you fell out of the sky. They quickly flew in after you to catch you before you hit the ground. Signs of their fight were not pretty to view at up close.

It was a relief that you actually woke up from all that, albeit you were pretty grumpy about it. Man did everything hurt. You lambasted them for their use of heavy force on you despite how old and worn down you were at this point.

Longan was a little unsympathetic, you attacked them with great strength, so it was only fair they responded in kind. You only grumbled irritatingly at that response.

Lotus was quick to try and rectify that stating that you were lost in the mind and so felt like the only way to cure that was to knock it out of you. You weren’t sure if you should feel better from that response.

Cookies that weren’t aware of your existence were made known of it now. The fabled 6th dragon that was older then the rest, with the power that even a glance would turn a cookie into crumbs! Though if they had actually gone to meet you, they’d see you were less regal and more like a grouch. You didn’t disregard cookies entirely, but preferred that you were left alone.

Ever since awakening, you pretty much joined the dragon circle after Lychee wouldn’t stop bugging you about it. Sleeping was nice, but you guessed you could use this opportunity awake to have a little reunion with your younger siblings.

Longan, being the youngest next to you, felt like they had the most capability of understanding you, something you were quick to remind them that, you knew and has done things that were WAY above even their understanding. But…you suppose you could open up to them about your time in these lands, satisfying the ivory dragon. Essentially being their mentor had made Longan questioning to themselves if it was really okay for a dragon to have a more well meaning feeling for another…

You didn’t want to admit it, but Lychee being the youngest in the group had made you feel a little protective over them, even if they did annoy the hell of you for it. But..Lychee appreciated that you were looking out for them, even if you deny it a thousand times.

You humored Lotus to play their mandolin, hating yourself when you actually nodded to their tunes, something Lotus took great pleasure in. You grumbled that their playing was “inadequate”, but Lotus only smiled at you and wouldn’t mind playing for you again sometime.

Pitaya kind of apologized a little for going too hard on you from the fight, with you growling from being reminded of that embarrassing defeat. You would’ve wiped the floor with them if it was one on one! Pitaya then offered to spar with you to get just that, a one on one! You took satisfaction in defeating the red dragon, but that quickly goes way when you see that Pitaya was enjoying fighting with you, you only growled in irritation. Though Pitaya swears that when they’re not looking, you were doing your best to suppress a small smile.

Ananas took a humble class when you weren’t exactly impressed by their feats, seeing it as being insignificant in your eyes. Ananas was annoyed by your lack of interest, but saw it as a challenge to try and come up with ways to really impress you. That would be a major ego boost that Ananas managed to impress you, the eldest dragon, with their feats!

It was a rough start at the beginning, with you being mostly steadfast at their attempts to get to know you better, especially after the fight. You had the right idea to just leave them once you healed up..

And yet you stayed.

You allowed yourself to return the favor by getting to know them too and over the years, slowly letting go of your resentment and actually participating in their plans. They took the sight of you slightly smiling in their presence as the biggest victory. Maybe being reunited with your younger dragon siblings wasn’t so bad after all…

But all things come to an end eventually, you were still old and very much tired at the end of the day. The years that go by did little to show that you were going to last long in this day in age. The other dragons knew this and did their best to help you with things you can no longer do and even felt a little worried that there will be a night that you slumbered and may never wake up from.

They actually grew disheartened at the thought, they had just gotten you back and the years went by so quick, and you were just going to leave them again…?

The dragon remained strong as they laid you within the lava of the volcano, where you floated on. You chuckled to yourself, this was really the end of the line for you. Longan commented that this wasn’t really the time to be humorous, what a party pooper you tell them, at least allow you to go out how you want it to be.

You could hear it in Longan’s tone that they were trying to hold back emotions, emotions that you gave them. Longan hated them..they hated you for making them feel this way, this pain in their heart…

Lychee didn’t try to suppress anything, they were sadden that you had to go now. They had a lot of fun spending time with you, their eldest sibling, it was stupid that this world decided that it was now time for you to go. Who’s going to look after them?! You patted their head and reminded Lychee that they had the others to look out for them, it was inevitable that your life on this world wasn’t for long. Lychee wanted to refute this, but said nothing. They wanted YOU to look out for them, it just wasn’t the same with you gone.

Pitaya commemorated the many fights you had with them, stating that those were definitely some of the best they’ve had. You training them as well? It was a thrill they’ve never experienced before! You grumbled, stating that the ratio between your wins and theirs were too far apart to catch up now…but you say that the foes they fight in the future will help them match up to your victories soon. Pitaya just tried to hide their face from the conversation, what good were their future opponents if they weren’t going to give Pitaya the thrill of the fight like you did!

Lotus reveled in the fact you liked their music, something you abruptly tried to deny, but you weren’t fooling them. You liking their music meant a lot to Lotus, it was a shame you can’t be around long enough to enjoy more of your music, it felt incomplete to have the dragons be their audience without you in it.

Ananas tried to remain prideful that you were receiving a dragon’s farewell, done and done. What they didn’t expect to hear from you was your saying that you were impressed by now. Ananas was willing to let go of their pride and offering assistance to those they considered beneath them, like the Cookies. Ananas tried to deny it, there were many things they’ve done you COULD be impressed by, this feat shouldn’t be the one! You told them to stuff it, you were impressed by their acts of mercy and you’re sticking by it. Ananas halted on a response, but came up with nothing. In their head….something as easy as being nice to some Cookies was enough for you? Guess that means they’ll lend help to the cookies more often then…

…

It was time…

Everyone remained silent as you finally closed your eyes, Lotus playing their mandolin as you floated on the lava.

Your body beginning to fade away into dust as the wind carried them away, Lychee struggles from this sight. The dragons close their eyes as they honored your passing.

A framed painting of you was kept in Longan’s palace, a painting they were incredibly protective over. Anyone who wished to disrespect your name was met with the intense ire from the dragons, Longan would not hesitate to crush the pathetic cookie into pieces over a transgression like that.

That is if the other dragons don’t rip them apart first…

[lilacartsmadsion]

Long ago, 5 Cookies saved the world from Destruction…

The Order of Five…the Five Heroes of Earthbread who saved the world from Dark Enchantress’ Evil…

The Heroes of Bravery, Wisdom, Love, Unity and Prosperity.

Together they maintained peace and light across chaos and darkness, and balanced the good and evil of the world of Earthbread…

But the word once more falls into darkness…

Gingerbrave, the only Hero without a Soul Jam, overpowered the other four and took the Soul Jam for himself.

4 of the remaining Soul Jam were lost once brought into possession, and hidden away alongside the Cookie Kingdom…

Lost, Betrayed and Hopeless, the remaining Heroes scattered across the Continent building their glory back one by one…without Gingerbrave…

But…as Light Diminished upon the World…

The Shadow rises upon the world…

———————————————————————————-

After the new update, I decided to update the Lore of the Soul Jam.

So yeah, Gingerbrave didn’t get one, but the rest did.

Since the First Version of the Soul Jam was different, somewhere down the line the Soul Jam changed to fit some of the mold…

So

Wisdom=Knowledge/Truth

Love=Happiness/Passion

Prosperity=Change/Abundance

Unity=Solidarity/Freedom

[lesbianranpoe]

I'm Craving Open Air and Solid Ground

atsushi & kunikida centric (platonic), canon divergent

sneak peek of the current fic i'm writing!! inspired by a post i just made (the brainworms took over😔) it's an AU where atsushi managed to leave the orphanage earlier and ends up being taken in by kunikida, a 16-year-old runaway. this is the first fic ive written that's going to be 1k+ words (though this little snippet is around 800) & will probably have a sequel :D i'm posting the full thing next week! also, if anyone guesses what book nana is a reference to, u get a cookie

When Kunikida turns sixteen, despite his situation, he has a few things going for him.

He's found a place to stay, for one. The man who owns it is always wreathed in cigarette smoke, but he hadn't asked for any identification; just gave Kunikida the room and asked him to keep the noise down. It was why he'd come to the sketchier part of Yokohama—here, no one bothered to check his identity. No one wondered why he was all alone. He was free.

And wasn't that a thought?

When he'd first ran away, a year back, Kunikida hadn't been nervous about them finding him. Hell, his parents had kicked him out of their house. They wouldn't look for him—nobody would. Surviving on the streets hadn't fazed him much either.

(Everyone around him had wondered why he'd gotten into so many fights, why someone as smart and obedient as him was beating bullies into the dirt, and he didn't know how to explain that liking authority and liking order were different things, and protecting people was more important than any symbol of power.)

He was good at surviving on his own. His scabbed-over knuckles and torn jacket were proof of that. It was why, when he walked down the dirty back alleys, he wasn't worried about getting jumped.

Kunikida wasn't an idiot. He knew this part of Yokohama was notorious for its gangs, and the Port Mafia's shadow loomed above them all, from the weakest child to the most hardened criminal. These passages, built from crumbled brick and cardboard, were prime spots to be targeted. But it was mid-afternoon, and the Port Mafia usually left him alone, so he continued walking. Besides, the cats would want to see him.

Shards of glass crunched under tall combat boots as he walked, and the scent of mold filled the air as he walked under tall buildings, awnings blocking the sun, but he didn't mind; he's walked this path so many times he could do it in the dead of night, with only the light of a cigarette flickering against brick walls to illuminate the way, and only the squeaking of rats to keep him company.

Something moved in the dimness to his right. Kunikida glanced in that direction, but didn't change his posture. It was one of the cats: Nana. There were many cats that lived in this alley, shielded from the elements, but Nana was his favorite. He was the first to approach Kunikida, those few months back. It had been injured by a car and crawled its way into a cardboard box in this very alleyway. Kunikida had cleaned it up, and just like that, he'd had a new friend. It was named Nana, nine in Japanese, after the shape of its tail, which was bent at the top, like the Japanese kanji. Checking in on the alley cats had quickly become a new part of his schedule, something that he followed religiously. (Kunikida doesn't like obeying, doesn't like obedience, but this isn't the result of some authority figure pushing their judgment onto him; he trusts himself more than he does one of those, anyway.)

It crept out of its box, slinking closer.

Kunikida holds out a piece of tuna—the remnants of his last dinner, two days before. "Hello, there."

The alleyway was silent save for the quiet sounds of a tail swishing. 

He reaches out a hand and waits. Nana inches forward—tentative, like a rat crawling out of a hole. It presses its face into his hand.

Kunikida smiles faintly. "You're a strange one, aren't you?"

The cat peers up at him—

And something moves out of the corner of his eye. Nana jumps up and leaves quickly, dashing for the exit.

Kunikida spins around, suddenly anxious, hands raised. It wasn't the first time he'd needed to fight someone in an alleyway—and then he pauses.

There was someone in the box behind him. A child, to be specific.

Its eyes remind him of the cat he had just been petting. Eyes that currently stare up at him from a hollowed face, painted with terror.

Kunikida frowns down at him—he has a clear enough view to assume that it's a him. "Hello? What are you doing here? A bit too young to be out on your own, don't you think?"

That was probably a little hypocritical. But, this child was even younger than he was, and obviously didn't know how to fend for himself. If Kunikida had to guess, he'd say he was around 10 or so.

Still, it is a child. A clearly starving child who might need his help. So he crouches down at eye level, softening his voice—as much as he knows how to—and says, "I don't have any real food with me, just raw tuna, but there's a restaurant near here. Would you like something to eat?"

Again, the kid doesn't speak, just stares up at Kunikida with those large, unblinking eyes. He suppresses a sigh.

And then—slowly, like someone might hurt him if he moved too fast—the kid gives a silent nod.

Kunikida gets up with a huff. "Well then? Follow me."

He does.

[its-chili]

Mold

I read a strange book once in elementary school about a girl and her cat. Something about ghosts or shadows and a curse I don't particularly remember the name or nature of. I only got about halfway, as those sorts of things tended to freak me out, and I would have rather read I Spy or Ripley's Believe It or Not. But, for some reason or another, I have never been able to get the setting of that book out of my head. It took place in a house that wasn't hers- or at least a house she hadn't lived in for her conscious years. I remember how it was described as this massive organism whose cells and organelles consisted of hallways and bed bugs. How living in its bricked walls was to invoke the experience of being digested, and with every passing day, parts of you would congeal into the furnish. Your flesh would start to peel, needing another coating, while your bones would creak and cry out for oil. I remember the terror that the book instilled in me. 

I don't know when I left or how I got there, but I wake to find myself in front of a house, simultaneously my own and someone else's. 

There is an infinite expanse of blotchy gray-green in every direction, only varying in size but never shape. A skeleton of a picket fence, overgrown with weeds and vines, the only thing separating me from the great beast of brick and mortar. I turn my head to look behind me, expecting to see a road of some sort, but nothing. Nothing but Daisy, my old truck, and her faded mustard skin and bulging blue headlights. I don't remember driving. Where are my keys? I dig a hand into my pocket, rustling around only to pull out some cotton knots and… I want to leave, but Daisy smiles, encouraging me forward. I don't think she knows where to go, either. Or if she is even capable of leaving. Last time I checked, she was on empty, and her left back tire was about to burst like a rubbery piñata 

I turn again. The house remains. Motionless. The exterior has been painted cream. Or white. Or something of the like that maybe once looked pristine and shiny and new but has long since lost its luster. I try to remember a time when it looked shiny and new. It has always looked this way. It has never looked this way.

Despite myself, my feet begin trudging forward, carrying me like an unwilling passenger forced upon a train headed for what could only be certain doom. I feel the strain of weeds tangles against my boots. It feels like ripping sinews. 

The journey takes hours. I appear at the steps in minutes. Where did the railing go? 

Flashes of my grandmother shoot through me. She smiles as she holds out a tray of apple juice and chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. Then she frowns as the tray hits the ground. She's staring at me. Her ankle doesn't look right. 

There is supposed to be a railing. 

I go to open the door- but there isn't a handle. Where did the knob go? Did someone steal it? Who in their right mind would steal a doorknob? Does it have that much value? Or was it the only shiny thing left, and whoever stole it figured that that was the only thing that could possibly give them anything worth the trouble. The urge to run suddenly spikes through my chest. I turn again. Daisy is gone. Everything is gone. It's just the infinite sea of blotchy gray-green.

I hear a creak behind me. The door is open. 

I can't move. Everything in me screams. I want to laugh. I do laugh. I laugh so hard my sides hurt, and tears start to form in my eyes, and I have to bend over and hold onto the railing that isn't there to steady myself. 

I bring a sleeve to my face to wipe away the tears and the blurred lens of my reality, and I almost relish in the salty sensation of the tiny droplets that manage to sneak their way onto my tongue. I relish the soft fabric of my sweater. I don't remember if I have washed this. Do I need to wash this? I smile as I bring my arm back down, only to find myself standing in the middle of my kitchen.

A table carved with indentions and scuff marks sits illuminated by a single golden orb. I can't see past the head of the table. I can picture my father's beaming smile, slightly shaded by a tangle of salt and pepper strands of scruff. I hear my mother's voice whisper a wordless prayer. It resonates with me. I sit at the end. A plate is in front of me, but I don't know what's on it. Mashed potatoes? Squashed Eggplant? Whatever goes into the cafeteria food I had to consume in college so I wouldn't starve? My fingers grip a knife I didn't realize I was holding. The mass does not make a squelching sound. It does not vibrate slightly like rotting jello. It does not stare up at me with one giant, congested, verdant eye whose veins pulsate to the rhythm of my racing heart… It does not roll back to gaze at the other end of the table. It does not focus on the figure at the other end of the table.

At one point in my life, I think in my junior year, my family and I had to temporarily move out of our house because we had discovered a patch of black mold behind my parents' bed. The cleaners knocked out the wall, prepared to place the plagued patches in the trash, and called it a day. The wall came down. 

The bones and organs of my entire house were black.

During that time, my mom had been designing the interior for my uncle's townhome, and thankfully, he let us crash there until the mold was dealt with. My mom's immune system could be compared to a wet Kleenex, as almost every food category was in the danger zone, and she couldn't get nutrients and immune support from just salads and chicken broth alone. I spent that entire summer in that tiny house–having to drive back and forth 30 minutes from there to my job back home to back again to my friend's houses to my grandparents to back- The gas prices always seemed to rise every time I pressed on the pedal. We were given the all-clear at the beginning of August and promptly huddled back into the hovel we had carved in the shape of ourselves…. 

Two years later, my mom started coughing while we watched Sound of Music in her bed. She got sick…very sick. She was ill to a point where fish lips chewed on her eyes, and blue worms wiggled beneath her taut skin. I remember the crystal snake that curled around her arm and off the bed, feeding back into a plastic bag hanging ever halfway empty beside her. I remember the drip. Drip. Drip of it. I was a floor above them, but I could still hear it underneath my covers. I swear I could see the tube sometimes slithering beneath my bed. 

And then, one spring, the drip just… stopped. 

It was sunny outside. 73 degrees. No chance of rain. 

We tore down my parents' room a few months later…and faced a black hole of spores as the wall came down. 

My eyes focus once more, or at least as focused as they can get with the dim lighting. I stare at the "not mashed potatoes" before me. I want to look at the other end of the table. I need to look at the other end. But my body refuses; there's an anvil pressing in my throat, forcing down every syllable and scream and panicked breath, and my hands are clamming up like they've turned into a kid's bad science project. I feel the neurons firing; I can picture myself craning my neck as if my head didn't feel like a sloppily attached bowling ball. But nothing. I am utterly paralyzed. 

The sound of wood scraping against wood echoes in my ears as the shadows shift just out of sight, dancing at the edges of my vision. The floor creaks. Closer. And Closer. Uncomprehendingly heavy and light all at once. And from the darkness, a fragment of a long, wiry appendage slowly begins to-

[ghostkidsblog]

Do you have any headcanons about the Shadow Boys when it comes to food? (I know that's random but I'm hungry so this came to mind)

Of course I don't mind, although I don't know which category of food your asking so I'll try to name at least 5-7 food types.

Griffin stagg

I see Griffin actually loving the flavor of mint chocolate chip ice cream or strawberry ice cream but it has to have small bits of strawberry in it or he refuses to eat it.

Spaghetti and meatballs, his mom made it for him once testing out a recipe and now forever loves them and asks his mom to make them for dinner at least 2 or 3 times a week. He would also help his mom make them whenever he can.

Animal cookies, his favorite would always be the lion shaped cookies, I mean like it's animal cookies, besides I think he used to play with them when he was little

Apple juice and cherry/ strawberry sodas are his all time favorite drinks, you can't tell me he doesn't enjoy cherry or strawberry soda. Also it's a funny moment when there is a fight going on and he is just there drinking his apple juice box in the background.

Billy Showalter

Billy gives me the type of person to like apple pie, along with any dessert that is apple flavored

Chocolate ice cream all the way. He loves and I mean loves Chocolate ice cream, he also enjoys sherbet ice cream

Hates root beer soda, he actually is a fan of coca cola, he likes the classic cola can.

Loves and I mean LOVES Caramel apples on a stick. His sister introduced him to the dessert ever since he was little and they went to the local fair, and has loved it ever sense then.

Vance Hopper

I haven't thought much about Vance so most of these if not all are ideas from a couple of friends on discord gc!

Vance would like to eat old fashioned recipes because his mother would make them for him growing up. ( It can be french,Italian, heck even Greek whatever you headcanon to be he will always love the old recipes)

He is a meat lover, meatloaf,hamburgers,hotdogs,etc. He will love it if it has meat in it.

Rocky road ice cream, I thought long and hard for this one, I genuinely think he would love the rocky road or any Flavor with huts in them.

Spicy chips, he would eat them without a problem. He has a high tolerance to spicy foods and he loves them to snack on.

Cookies, personally snickerdoodles or sugar cookies. He baked them with his mom and molded them with cookie cutter with whatever shapes they had. I like to think vance liking cinnamon treats sue me for headcanoning that.

Bruce Yamada

Mint chocolate chip & chocky chocolate ice cream, I had that idea in my head since freaking October. He would love those two flavors.

Chocolate desserts/treats he would love to have anything chocolate flavored.

Peaches and apples would be his favorite fruit in my book. He would share his peache or apple in slices with his friends/shadow boys.

Big league bubble gum, he also likes other flavors but I can't seem to find what type of flavors there are.

Robin Arellano

I don't care what anyone says Robin is a HUGE SWEET TOOTH KID, he definitely likes those bonbon cookies in the Mexican store

His mom's cooking is the best, whether that be empanadas, enchiladas, heck eve chicken soup, it's his favorite because his mom makes the best food

He strikes me as a sour gummy worm kid, like he would enjoy eating sour gummy worms while everyone else he knows dislike or hate the taste of them or how they look

Chicken tenders was his favorite school food, the only thing that looked safe to eat was chicken tenders and he would gladly give you a full on lecture/rant on how the chicken tenders are the best option (he also like dinosaur nuggets!)

Mangonada & cookies n cream is his favorite ice cream in my book

Finney Blake

M&Ms and 100 grand chocolate bar is his favorite candies (he definitely separates the cold tone M&Ms and warm tone M&Ms then eats the cold tones ones first)

Vanilla ice cream lover but doesn't mind eating other flavors (he would put sprinkles & other toppings on his ice cream you can't change my mind on that)

Grape and cherry soda lover (he definitely goes to the store only getting grape or cherry soda and nothing else)

Garlic bread is his favorite bread to snack on (his mom taught him how to make it when he was a bit young and still has the recipe on how to make it)

He strikes me on loving a chicken Alfredo and beef stroganoff dish (he was sleeping over at Robin's at the time and robin’s mom made these two dishes and Finney loved it so much he asked Robin's mom on how to make them afterwards)

Sorry for such a late response, I've been busy with both personal and school problems. Thank you for being so patient with me and I hope you enjoy this answer for your ask! :D

-Ghostkid

[modcroissant]

Blueberry you could've told us you were going ahead of us- *inside a tree*

How was I supposed to when you guys can't focus on getting to our destination? I already got passed the Ghost-Yeast Forest and currently going to the tower in the distance.

{ Meanwhile, with Shadow Milk in Ghost-Yeast Forest }

Why does it smell disgusting in here? It smells like bodies of cookies molding.

━━━━━━━━━━━ ✁⁎ ⋆. °.• ━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━ ⁎ ⋆. °.• ❖ ━━━━━━━━━━━

[just-me-and-the-toaster]

Things Your Muse Will Notice About Mine | Audrey Fulquard

What they look like :

Like a second hand Marylin Monroe trying too hard to fit into the molds set to her by the men in her life. She hides her true self behind layers of makeup, bright eye shadows, and dark lines. Her hair is her most recognizable feature – blonde, short, and with its signature inward curl. She’s quite petite with a very delicate frame, manicured nails and a bright smile that can range from beaming and radiant to soft and shy. She knows how to use that smile and her long thick lashes to her advantage when she needs to, though it doesn’t make her feel very good inside. A post-canon Audrey is your typical suburban housewife ripped straight out of 1950s magazines and television shows. Her features have melted into their natural state with soft pastels and rosy pinks, ultimately making her prettier than the harshness of Skid Row ever could. She’s finally able to bloom into who she’s also been at heart, since she was a day-dreaming little girl.

What they smell like :

Various cheap floral perfumes – all perfectly aligned with all the seasons and moods you could imagine – with a hint of hairspray and rose shampoo. In her suburban dream, you can add freshly baked cookies and pine sol to the mix. 

What they taste like :

Sugary, sweet, and home-like in that same comforting way a grandma’s house is or a mother’s arms.

What they sound like :

Helium on steroids. Her voice is sky-high in pitch with a heavy New York accent that gets thicker with excitement or fear. At times it’s bright and dance-like, tinkling like tiny bells, and other times it’s wispy and quiet in attempts to either appease or comfort. She’s also always accompanied by the click of heels and the jingle of jewelry. 

What they feel like :

Warm and welcoming, but too soft for her own good. But she’s stronger than she looks and is resilient despite how much she’s been knocked around. She has a strong maternal aura and her presence is reassuring and comforting, and can go as far as to soften the toughest and stoniest out there. 

Tagged by: @scrivellc

Tagging: Anyone who wants to!

[cookie-run-kingdom-story]

The Butter Painting Affair: Prologue

Walnut Cookie: The office is really quiet today. It’s a bit boring, but that’s a good thing! That means there’s no crime, hehe! Chestnut Cookie: Cookie Herald! Exclusive scoop! Oh! OH! Hi, Walnut Cookie! Check out today’s exciting news!! Walnut Cookie: “Roguefort Cookie, Arrested.” Huh? Wait… WHAT?! Walnut Cookie: “Grand opening… museum… masterpiece painting… stolen… Almond Cookie leading investigation…? Successful arrest of main suspect: Roguefort Cookie?!”

Walnut Cookie: Roguefort Cookie was arrested?! And is in custody right now? I have to get the station,* immediately!

*actual text

Walnut Cookie: I wish to learn more details about the museum heist mentioned in today’s news! Almond Cookie: *Sigh* The press got wind of it, eh…? There’s nothing to tell really. Roguefort Cookie was successfully apprehended, end of story. Walnut Cookie: But I’ve been investigating Roguefort Cookie’s schemes from the very beginning! You know I was in the middle of- Almond Cookie: (Sets coffee down.) And THAT is exactly the reason why I personally requested to be assigned to this case. You are out of your league to think you could take on Roguefort Cookie on your own. Almond Cookie: I’ll be the one to wrap up this investigation, so get yourself home. You’re still much too young to handle a real case like this. Walnut Cookie: ...Then, please, at least let me hear the case’s details! Almond Cookie: ...Very well.

Almond Cookie: Ever heard of Butter Pretzel Cookie? The genius painter, the illustrious portraitist? Walnut Cookie: Yes, I recall seeing her name in the papers before... Almond Cookie: Well, her second grand masterpiece was supposed to be unveiled at the Hors d’Oeuvre Museum. But when they removed the cloth... Almond Cookie: The canvas was missing.

Walnut Cookie: Did Roguefort Cookie send out a calling card beforehand? Almond Cookie: No, but there were abundant traces of blue cheese mold at the scene. Witness reports also put Roguefort Cookie near the scene of the crime, skulking about in the shadows.

Walnut Cookie: (But… Roguefort Cookie always leaves a calling card!) Walnut Cookie: (These details don’t add up… Roguefort Cookie isn’t some careless burglar who leaves obvious traces behind.) Walnut Cookie: I need to speak with Roguefort Cookie! Almond Cookie: Don’t make me repeat myself. Roguefort Cookie is dangerous. Leave this to the adults and- Walnut Cookie: You said there’s no such thing as a child or an adult when it comes to being a great detective! Almond Cookie: I did say that, didn’t I? ...But no, this is too dangerous. I’m putting my foot down. Walnut Cookie: I’m not investigating! I’m just going to talk. A conversation, that much can be arranged, can’t it? Almond Cookie: I know that any cases involving Roguefort Cookie mean a lot to you... Walnut Cookie: Pleeease. Just once! Please? Almond Cookie: ….Very well. But on one condition. You stick with me at all times, kiddo. Come with me.

Roguefort Cookie: Well, well, well! ♪ If it isn’t our very own starry-eyed, little detective! Pleased to make your acquaintance once again. Walnut Cookie: You’re in no position to be making a joke of this situation! Out with the truth, now! Did you steal that painting? Roguefort Cookie: Why so serious, young gumshoe? Regardless of what I say, I do have a hunch that Detective Almond Cookie will be far from convinced. Roguefort Cookie: But I will let you in on this! You know my methods! Would I leave behind such a disastrous trail? I most certainly would not steal something in such crude fashion. ♪ Almond Cookie: Keep your wits about you, kiddo. When you look at it objectively, it means that Roguefort Cookie knows the ins and outs of that museum. Almond Cookie: *Sigh* To think that a member of Blue Cheese manor could stoop to petty theft... Roguefort Cookie: ...How intriguing. I did not expect for you to bring up my family’s name. Walnut Cookie: This case smells fishy… or cheesy. I have a hunch that Roguefort Cookie isn’t the true culprit! Roguefort Cookie: Then the truth lies in your hands, little detective. ♪ After all, hunches should not be easily ignored, should they? Walnut Cookie: I can’t believe I’m saying this… Roguefort Cookie is right! This isn’t an open and shut case, it should be re-opened immediately! Walnut Cookie: I formally request that all Cookies present for the unveiling be called in to provide additional statements! Almond Cookie: Absolutely not, young lady. You gave me your word that you wouldn’t be investigating this matter. Walnut Cookie: ...I-I’m sorry for not staying true to that promise. But from one detective to another, please trust me! Walnut Cookie: I’ve never asked for anything this big! Please! Almond Cookie: *Sigh* Walnut Cookie. You know I do not doubt your abilities as a detective. But a case like this, it’s a doozy even for veteran investigators. Almond Cookie: And to re-open it now? The paperwork alone is going to be a nightmare… I need to know. Are you willing to take full responsibility of your actions?*

*actual text

Walnut Cookie: I will! I promise! And on my honor as a detective, I will apprehend the true culprit! Almond Cookie: ...Very well then. Let me make a few calls first and then I’ll see to getting all the witnesses back to the museum. Walnut Cookie: Thank you! THANK YOU! Almond Cookie: Roguefort Cookie…. You’re not off the hook yet. As our primary suspect, you will be detained here until the re-opened investigation is completed. Roguefort Cookie: Oh, I dare not make an attempt to flee at this point! I look so forward to the efforts of this detective duo! Instead of a phone call, may I have some popcorn and watch your endeavors? ♪

Curator Emmental Cheese: Disastrous! The pristine reputation of the Hors d’Oeuvre Museum, shattered to a million crumbs! We will never recover from this! I… I will never recover from this! Curator Emmental Cheese: Just look at it! That… VOID! It’s gone! Poof! Like crumbs in a forest! STOLEN! *SOB* Curator Emmental Cheese: Please, I beg of you! For all that is good in this world…! Please recover Butter Pretzel Cookie’s masterpiece! Butter Pretzel Cookie: Many a sleepless night have I spent on that painting. And to what end…? Walnut Cookie: Butter Pretzel Cookie. Curator Emmental Cheese! Do not worry! I am on the case and I promise to recover it quickly! Almond Cookie: Judging from those footsteps, it sounds like our last witness is here. Walnut Cookie, let’s go.

Truffle Cookie: Oh my goodness! Just look at you! How adorable! I see that Detective Almond Cookie isn’t working alone today! Truffle Cookie: I was wondering why someone so uninterested in this museum’s grand collection called me back here! Almond Cookie: Thank you for your cooperation, Truffle Cookie. We’ve re-opened the investigation and called all witnesses back to the museum. Truffle Cookie: It’s perfectly fine, deary. I am very curious about Butter Pretzel Cookie’s art. Walnut Cookie: Everyone is gathered! With that, the investigation will begin! Let us crack this so-called butter painting affair! Walnut Cookie: But, erm. Before we start, can we get one thing straight first? So you, er, paint… with butter. Butter Pretzel Cookie: Must I explain it as if I am telling a child- Oh… You are a chil- Ahem! Butter accepts the canvas as its new home, stacking and layering itself to create a striking image. Butter Pretzel Cookie: I am the inventor and sole practitioner of this technique! Walnut Cookie: That’s quite an explanation. I will admit that I decided to omit the painting technique from my detective’s notes… Almond Cookie: Growing up comes with learning, not knowing. Besides… you weren’t the one originally assigned to this case. Butter Pretzel Cookie: Er… Sure. What he said.

Butter Pretzel Cookie: When I was your age, my hands were already flowing across the canvas to sketch the beauty around me. Since you’re not an artist, I will refrain from reprimanding your mundane knowledge of art. Walnut Cookie: Where are the other paintings? They might be targets for our unknown thief as well! Cheesecake Cookie: I thought I recognized you, hehe! No need to worry about that! They’re safe at my mansion. The paintings smelled so fragrant, I decided to buy them all! Butter Pretzel Cookie: Once again, my good Cheesecake Cookie, my works of art are not to be admired by the nose! Curator Emmental Cheese: Oh, but of course! The rich shades of color, the robust textures jumping out of the painting! So very grand! Your paintings truly are equal to the beauty of nature! Curator Emmental Cheese: To think that a masterpiece by an artist of your caliber was stolen…! Oh, it just brings me to tears! The thieves most definitely do not understand its true value! Walnut Cookie: I thought it was just like… art. The stolen painting must be super impressive? Almond Cookie: The cost of that painting… I’d be able to buy ten lifetimes of coffee with that price tag… Butter Pretzel Cookie: I find your lack of knowledge of art… disturbing. It does not sit well with me that the fate of my missing painting is in your hands. Carol Cookie: Now now, Butter Pretzel Cookie! Everything will work out and we’ll find that painting without fail. Birthday Cake Cookie: The party was perfect… We didn’t even get to start it... Mint Choco Cookie: Many Cookies were waiting for its unveiling… I hope we find it soon. Walnut Cookie: Curator Emmental Cheese! On my honor as a detective, I will find that painting!

[iriensatea]

roguefort cookie hcs

nobody asked but i gotta log them SOMEWHERE yk?

- we’re taking “phantom” to a whole new level. i think that roguefort is literally a phantom! they aren’t the haunty ghoul type of phantom it’s more of a curse than anything. they are without a heart themselves, and steal the hearts of cookies who act like they have none. And by steal i mean consume their hearts. they can transfigure and disguise their appearance to the point where it’s a startling direct copy of who they’re posing as. Voice too. sometimes they shift their own normal appearance to fit in at parties, or seduce. It’s disturbing to watch the process, to say the least.

bonus if they take the persons heart and they’re dead and essentially take their identity and personality. it causes them to freak out sometimes but it’s necessary for the plan

- when their family was destroyed or “fallen from grace” it was sort of like a beauty and the beast situation— rich and prosperous house succumbing to darkness due to mindless superficial decisions made against the wrong person, and roguefort being the youngest most promising heir was cursed for their choices too young to know what they were. but all they know is that they need to find them again and regain blue cheese manors legacy, or at least go back and find out what happened.

- the dead thing also makes since bc roquefort (the cheese itself) is already molded over and has a distinctive.. taste because of that. other cheeses are refined and pure, but rogueforts lineage is past its prime. again, molded over. No this doesn’t make them smell bad

- Not very prone to anger but it bubbles just below the surface… When they’re on the job they have to keep appearance but the moment they take off that ginormous hat and costume they are so tired and exhausted of magic and energy in general they sink into their bed. then they do it all again. it’s a very tedious cycle + dealing with pigs (cops) takes immense patience…

- …but on their downtime they work on pawning and fixing really precious things it’s more of a hobby. they pride themselves on their hard work and schemes but also on their way to identify diamonds from glass in rings.

- since they’re dead they can’t regenerate normally and any major affliction like a gunshot wound hinders them a lot. in order to heal it back they must steal more life from more cookies or just cope. Probably how they’ve stayed alive for so long considering they talk of an age-old family that’s been Forgotten.

- they carry their cane with them a lot of the time (disability, cane user!) and often uses it to store magic. it’s magic conductive, or may even be another priceless heirloom which isn’t a stretch considering they hunt for that shit like it’s candy. it helps them perform their grandiose escapes, bursting into mold (creating long-range teleportation spells for getaways) Without their cane they can’t do all the magic they do, and if they are without it it’s only half as convincing.

- they have two forms. one is more ghost-like or true to their nature and allows them to slip away into shadows easy. it’s a form they take when weakened or in need of a quick getaway (ex. almond almost catches them.. unless they want to be caught.) the other is their normal, everyday form they take up and that everybody sees. it’s when they are most comfortable. when angered or upset it tends to externalize through their shadow.

- only their eyes are visible and any attached jewelry. rings and pearls and gold especially. their body becomes transparent, almost “hollow”, so i just refer to this as their hollowed form. you can punch right through them. since nothing can escape almonds skill and they managed to ..

- The work of Phantom Bleu consists of their calling card, the swiping of all the victims valuable possessions and the victim, dead, with their soulstone or ‘heart’ gone from the inside. Empty. Every victim. It’s a clean carnage, but when you consider the victims are later to be identified as millionaires, worse criminals or generally greedy people…. ehhhhhhh

RELATIONSHIPS:

Sparkling - Happily married, at least in my canon. (if you don’t like roguesparkling that’s fine just pretend it’s like almondfort or butterfort better) A relationship that’s been through a lot of hardship, but always came out in good resolve or planting the seeds for something stronger. They match eachothers energy, and Roguefort provides for Sparklings business with the money they get from thievery. if i described their relationship in detail this post would never end.

Timekeeper - business partners…. best friends? I see them both as between life and death cookies so i think they’d get along in the regard that they both talk in riddles, borrow equipment (for rogueforts escapades, and for timekeepers timeline-specific oddities and sometimes their own inventions.) They pull pranks on random people in the street and have fashion show sleepovers. Roguefort made the mechanical prosthetics Timekeeper has (clockwork hands , their cuckoo bird eye) out of grandfather clock parts.

Croissant - This doesn’t make them good with croissant though. they’re a very fishy person to the TBD all in all and woudl rather them keep their paws off the facility and time in general… but unfortunately the director is buddy buddy. she puts up with it.

Almond - It’s really complicated. Considering Almond knows of their past and their eventual fall, he’s still guarded but somewhat sympathetic. He’s up there at the crime scene and finds it’s absolutely terrifying (the concept of having your life taken in an instant) and tries to keep Walnut far far far away from the string of murders. Resents them for what they do entirely.

…Ironically, the two get along very very well in disguise. Gift-giving, invited to housewarmings and birthdays. With their passive identity, they have a WAYY better bond.

Walnut - to your surprise Roguefort is really really good with kids. In their disguised form they nanny for Walnut sometimes and has them over their place (apartment above sparklings bar. pretty nice! think midtown nyc except not small.) She infodumps about true crime and watches those youtubers on her sticky ipad and Roguefort just reads. Or they play scrabble. On the job though they try to steer her away from the reality of what they actually do.. and condense it to silly antics instead.

Id like to think somebody has tried to hurt her or tried to stop her while solving a case that wasn’t Phantom Bleus, and she’s about to get horribly hurt before they step in and, under the cover of the shadows, tells her to get away and rescues her without Walnut ever knowing it was actually Roguefort.

Choco Bon - Previous family tailor. Or, Bons mom tailored Rogueforts old family. An expensive client to her, and a very nice asset to have for them. They often discuss deep deep coture fashion while working together and gossip more than anything. She’s paid extra (1 grand extra) since she’s technically an item for all the crimes they’ve committed… Bad for business.

EXTRA NOTES

they are really ashamed of themselves for what they do but never lose their confidence. it’s not like they want to do this? be afflicted, feel like a monster?

their body is cold. no pulse or breathing, either. sparkling doesn’t rlly mind this though and loves them how they are but whenever people hold their hands it’s like “dude are you ok you’re freezing”

their hair is so silky and so shiny fuck dark chocos conditioner wtf this guy got!!! when they put it down it goes to the floor and it’s impossible to comb. they haven’t cut it since they were baked actually

People think of them as really petty. Even in the thief community they’re not particularly liked, most likely because nobody else in the thief council has murdered anybody LMAO (except chili pepper) But it’s mostly because to everybody else except Sparkling & Walnut they’re closed off and put up an act. Super shady, otherwise, and cold. “The end justifies the means” isn’t a good moral compass to have. Plus their family name..

they/them strictly idk if that was obvious. their gender is incredibly ambiguous and has no label.

Sometimes they actually talk like a victorian 1800s child because they’ve been around on earthbread for so long they take on strange age old customs they were taught in childhood. But if they have to accustom themselves to modern speak for an act, they will. Just poorly…

[wondereads]

Weekly Reading Update (07/10/23)

Reviews and thoughts under the cut

The Assassin's Blade by Sarah J. Maas (6/10)

This book was one I just read to move on to the next book. I was told to read this one before Queen of Shadows, so I did. I did find some parts interesting, such as Celaena's time in the desert, and Arobynn Hamel has to be one of the most interesting characters in the whole series. However, I do wish this were an optional installment as it was kind of boring. It didn't feel like we got any insight into Celaena's character, rather just rehashes of what has appeared in previous books, and towards the end I was skimming. Also, I'm sorry, but Sam doesn't really hold any appeal for me. The romantic plotline was rushed and he was acting so weird towards the end.

The Stolen Heir by Holly Black (10/10)

I was so nervous; as the successor to Folk of the Air, The Stolen Heir had a lot to live up to, and it did. I absolutely adored Wren; she is a complex main character who is still easy to root for, and Black has continued to write amazing, unhinged female main characters. As in Folk of the Air, the use of faerie rules to trick the audience along with the characters is done very well, and there's some great foreshadowing in there. Concerning Oak, I'd seen a lot of people online saying he was a Cardan carbon copy, but I really don't see it. He's polite, considerate, and well-raised, but he also has a shocking capacity for violence, which is incredibly interesting. The twist at the end was amazing, particularly concerning Wren and Oak's relationship going forward, and I can't wait to read the second book!

Clockwork Angel by Cassandra Clare (8/10)

While this book isn't perfect and is somewhat dated by its use of certain tropes and plot points, The Infernal Devices is without a doubt much better than The Mortal Instruments. It definitely has its similarities (the premise and mystery of birth behind the main characters are notably alike), but it has also really improved. Tessa, while still a little passive and nondescript in terms of character, isn't just a cookie cutter protagonist, and it's actually really interesting to see how the time period affects her opinions. The plot is kind of slow, but it's much less predictable and more imaginative. Also, TID probably has one of the best-written (and best-resolved in Clockwork Princess) love triangles in YA. Both Will and Jem have their own appeal, and they are distinct from one another while still being close in a unique way. I'm enjoying my reread so far!

Neverseen by Shannon Messenger (CR, 23%)

Something I can tell about this book is that it's definitely going to be slower book. Now that Sophie and her friends are with the Black Swan, a lot of the focus is on Sophie's powers and their interpersonal relationships. I have a feeling there's going to be some actual development in the romance angle, but I think it will be ending some of those feelings rather than recognizing them, which is honestly long overdue. I really hope Biana gets some more attention in this book, as she's been kind of neglected in the last two.

Gideon the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (CR, 19%)

This book is so good so far. This book is funny, sarcastic, compelling, and very confusing, just the way I like them. I'm not super far in, but I already have a connection to the main character, Gideon, and her childhood friend/enemy/employer Harrowhark. I'm quite invested in their relationship, which seems very complicated. The worldbuilding is very interesting so far, especially politically, and the pacing is good. I can't wait to continue.

The Serpent and the Wings of Night by Clarissa Broadbent (CR, 9%)

Finally, this book is kind of a side project to read whenever I'm in the mood for a fantasy romance. It's actually quite good so far, with a pretty good plot and interesting characters. The main character seems to break from the mold of the typical NA romantasy protagonist, and her surrogate father definitely has my attention.

[peachyqueenly]

When She Was Here

Oyster, a Cookie of Salt and a native of the seas… who answered to no god of the Republic’s and cared not of anyone who did.

Mille-Feuille, a Cookie of Sweet dough who attended to the orphans of the Republic each and every day… would it be any surprise if she had been driven mad by such a sight?

Different, yet similar. Both in their indifference and secrets kept.

//An exploration of a relationship between Oyster and Mille-Feuille, and the aftermath of the events of Odyssey.

General Audiences, Oyster Cookie/Mille-Feuille Cookie

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41344314

Within the shadows and corners untouched by light in years, acts shrouded in secrecy occurred all throughout the ‘grand’ Republic. Blasphemous sermons, back alley deals and underhanded bargains… committed by cookies of sugar and salt alike. Sweet and salty mixed into an overwhelming concoction that one would think was brewed by the witches’ themselves.  

No Cookie would want to live like this, but only a few had the luxury of escaping such unappetizing circumstances. And of those fortunate few were two cookies. Two who, on cold and lonely nights like these, kept each other warm and a little less lonely.

A bedside lamp mimicked the dancing of a candle in how faint its glow was; it illuminated only the most prominent curves, angles, and wrinkles of the one who laid in bed. On her lonesome, at least for now. Oyster sat there reading a book to pass the time. No orders to give, nor any meetings to be had this late into the night… unless their dearest Consul desired to test her patience. When the only ones awake were the mistress moon and the one who longed for her so painfully. Yes, it was so very late. And yet she who had it all could not sleep—no, she just did not want to. She was but a bat of an eyelash away from wistful dreams; potentially hearing the song of the moon herself. The only matter keeping her up was… her acquaintance, who she waited patiently for with a tap, tap, tap of her finger against the binding of her book.

Yes, a mere acquaintance could keep her up like this. Nothing personal, she was above such attachments. A simple matter of professionalism and business, as she saw it. Even as she laid there in little more than her bed-time robes. Simple, yet far fancier than most any Cookie could ever hope to see or touch. Let alone wear. Fine pearls danced and decorated the lace as dark as the licorice seas themselves. Quite the sight to behold, truly.

Especially by the suspiciously kind umber eyes that entered the room…  

In her own bedtime gown, Mille-Feuille stood at the now open door. The bright light of her previous space casting herself in shadows the two were far too used to. An inky darkness they sometimes caught in the corner of their eyes while walking about. And then gone, extinguished with a flick. Taken away without a moment’s notice, while the slight beat of her footsteps followed her to bed, where she finally found herself sitting on its side.

“… sorry for the wait, Elder Oyster Cookie.” Mille-Feuille commented, not looking the other in the eyes and instead focusing on the way her fingers lightly danced and molded the sheets, “I had… business to attend to before this.”  

“Mhmmm…” Oyster merely hummed an acknowledgement, not yet looking up from her book. Perhaps engrossed by the contents thereof or playing coy to the one who had kept her waiting. No one would ever know.

“… ‘This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.’”

That, finally, brought one of the two’s gazes upon the other. As Mille-Feuille’s hand froze and a glance was shot towards the other.

“Pardon?” One could almost assume the elder was… bothered, as she spoke.

Oyster does not assume, however. She knows. And she knew.

“… oh, don’t mind me.” The one seemingly oh so knowledgeable of all the happenings around them finally acknowledged her other half. Her one and only . Flipping the corner of a page ever so delicately, before setting it down on her bedside table. A mere footnote to her and the other’s evening, as she now saw it.

“Don’t look too confused either, dear ‘Elder’.” Her words and tone seemed to be trying to reassure Mille-Feuille, “Such a look doesn’t suit you. I merely read aloud sometimes… unless there is something you see in that line in particular?”

There was a moment of silence.

“… no.” Mille-Feuille sighed, shifting as to allow her tired legs to stretch out, “It’s nothing. Just not the greeting I expected, nor have grown to expect, from you.”­­

“Hmm…” Oyster seemed to ponder for a moment. Moving herself a little closer to her partner for the night as she did. Draping her arm around her, and making herself deservedly comfortable with a content hum soon after. Or a teasing one? Perhaps there was no woman in this grand republic who knew, coy as she could be in matters of… business.

… and romance.

Yes, if there was one thing Oyster was known for besides her house’s finances… it was her, let us call it, preference for the fairer gender. Beautiful, like one of her many gleaming pearls, were each and every maiden her expert hands managed to play like a fiddle. Words that sounded like poetry and a gaze that could tint any cookies’ dough in a flustered façade… that was the famous Oyster Cookie. One who could never have just one pearl… or beauty. No, as one came, her gaze fell on another. Never able to look at the same one twice.  

Well… all except one. But it was a mere passing fancy. Nothing more, nothing less.

The hand over Mille-Feuille’s shoulder rubbed circles into her aged yet tender dough. Expertly, as if the other had given her fair share of massages over the years. Enough to bring a groan out of the fair lady.

“No need to stress over small words and ideals, yea?” Oyster mused for the both of them, “You’re here now. I, nor you, should have a concern in the world, no?”

“Not a concern in the world…” the other noted Oyster’s previous words, before she leaned her head into the crook of the other’s neck.

“... yes, I suppose you are right… the night is quiet. Peaceful… at least up here.”

“… yea.”  

Up here…  

It was tranquil. At least up here. Yet these two particular elders knew of the illusion their lives afforded them. Their success, and what supported them just beneath their feet and chapels. For every success story like Oyster and the naval captain Cookies of Sweet worked in tow with, there were dozens of salty doughed souls below them. Wasting away until they became one with the mud. Begging for a single coin. Spouting words most of those up the upper city would consider blasphemous and hedonistic in the hopes that it could help them. A collective voice pleading for some merciful god to help the outcasts such as them.

“God help the outcasts”, they would cry.

Many would choose to ignore such cries, or simply lived in blissful ignorance. But not them.

Oyster, a Cookie of Salt and a native of the seas… who answered to no god of the Republic’s and cared not of anyone who did.

Mille-Feuille, a Cookie of Sweet dough who attended to the orphans of the Republic each and every day… would it be any surprise if she had been driven mad by such a sight?

Different, yet similar. Both in their indifference and secrets kept.

… now the air was tense. The previously soft hands stopped, pressed in a bit too far for comfort at the shift in mood both had experienced. A shift of the tides, strong enough to possibly overturn a ship even.

“… ahem.” Oyster was not naïve; she was more than privy to subtleties like this. “I must say… I was curious about your reasons for being… later than usual.”

She had seen the way Mille-Feuille sometimes merely sat in silence during sermons in recent years. The way her mind and gaze always seemed to be elsewhere during such ‘blessed’ moments. And yet, they somehow still kept her away from Oyster?

“Odd, for someone so devoted and punctual.”

The air only got tenser as the faithful woman said… nothing. Not at first. She merely laid there, a thoughtful hum preceding the slightest of movement… perhaps of discomfort? Or… in preperation. As soon, Mille-Feuille sat up. Guiding them both to a seat as she hovered over the other’s lap.

“Hmm… you know the roles we play.” A soft hand cupped Oysters cheek, before their two’s faces were drawn closer, “My role at the Church can keep me… occupied. Not to mention making sure each of the children get a proper meal and education.”

… warmth.

“Nothing to worry your head over. I’m always attended to, whether by the most loyal of Paladins and attendants, or even by your own officers.”

Oyster felt a slight warmth in her face as Mille-Feuille spoke. Their faces lingered so close together for so long. Was this a tease? Was she on the opposite end of the social games she so expertly played and weaved on a day-to-day basis? No… no, she was the eye of the Republic. An informant, she knew everything. Had a hand in and control of everything.

Including what her heart wanted…and this circumstance.

Not a moment more would be wasted. Before another word could be spoken, Oyster closed the distance and seized control of this exchange. A kiss in the dead of night, a moment of passion between two women who just could not admit the truth—either to themselves or the other. But none of that mattered when their eyes were screwed shut. The only sensation guiding them was the softness of each other’s lips and a pair of finely aged hands that cupped such delicate dough. Oyster could feel Mille-Feuille’s grip, so firm… as if she were afraid she would lose sight of the other if she let go.

As for her own hands? They were situated atop the shoulders of the other. Before they trailed down her arms… feeling every hour and second this most holy of vessel’s had lived. Every blemish, wrinkle, and any other gems her fingers could read a story all their own. All the way down to her hips, where they pulled the larger woman’s frame closer to hers and admired the softness of her frame with the slightest of grips. Finally, it all ended with a contrast in desires. One arm moved up and around her back, pulling Mille-Feuille into as warm of an embrace as this cold and hardened soul could give. While the other… moved down, if for the briefest of moments. Taking in and kneading the softness that was the larger woman's thighs, before traveling back up to complete her embrace.

… not before that previous motion elicited a hum from Mille-Feuille, as they finally separated for a moment of air. The two got lost in each other’s eyes for the briefest of moments. Like moths to a flame, where the nearby lamp created a spark that ignited the golden ambers of the holy woman’s eyes. Contrasting the hauntingly cool eyes of Oyster’s; that which could lure one down like a siren’s song into the deepest abyss.

Not a word nor sound was exchanged. Not a coy turn of phrase nor the sweetest drops of love. Only the slightest creaking of the foundation of their relationship Oyster’s home could be heard for this briefest of moments. One that, sadly, could not last. Like all good things.

“… as passionate as ever.” Mille-Feuille mused, leaning her head into the other’s shoulder, “Like the first all over again, stealing my breath away with your charm. I would not have it any other way, however.”

“Neither would I, ma douce .” were words Oyster had repeated many a time over the years, but this nickname was her’s and her’s alone. Her sweet… indeed, nothing was sweeter to Oyster than this precious moment in time. This precious woman, baked after a dessert no one could have but her.

“… though,” she began again, still holding the other close to herself, “Your vagueness is not lost on me, dear.”

Mille-Feuille did not make any attempt to move. Not a bat of her eye, nor a hint of coyness in them or her frame… She merely smiled down at the other. So kindly and tenderly.

“I’m not sure either of us would be interested in a complete summary of my duties, ma chérie .” she let her eyes wander to the side, in a display of modesty, before they shut, “Especially in matters we both know you care little for…”

“But if they kept ma douce away? Stole such sweetness from me?” Oyster’s words, meanwhile, carried with them a lingering taste of a tease, as if to draw the other’s heart closer to her as her hug brought them physically so, “I am always intrigued by matters that steal what is mine, dear.”

A pause.

“As much of an honor as being the one and only of your’s truly is, it really was nothing special—”

 “Then, a brief description will do, hm?”

“I do believe that’s what I gave, yes?” her eyes opened once more, and Mille-Feuille stared right into Oyster’s, “I had business with the preachers and children of the church. Matters of great importance to address.”

That much was true. Not serious to Oyster, but there was no elder nor perhaps citizen of the Republic who could doubt Mille-Feuille took her role seriously.

… there was still a lingering feeling on Oyster’s mind, however. Something hidden, something murky and obscured and unsightly despite how brightly lit such umber eyes were. Consumed by a darkness even she couldn’t comprehend, like the deepest abyss of the sea. Where the wails of lonely souls were the only thing that could be heard. There was something. Just beyond her reach. And nothing could stay out of her reach… forever.

However, she also knew… pushing was sometimes not the right move. To protect a queen, a pawn or rook sometimes had to move back. Moves had to be considered carefully, as did words. And yet it would be fine. It always was. She would find an opening. Eventually.

She always did.

For now, though, she merely shut her eyes in a seemingly yet feigned move of defeat. Her smile everlasting, and her descending form pulling the other down to bed with her.

“I suppose you are right.” Oyster said with no hint of a tone, brushing a bit of her beloved’s curly hair to the side, “It is true, such matters are rather boring to me. If nothing notable happened, I suppose I have no desire to know more.”

A deep exhale, almost like a sigh, left Mille-Feuille as the two fell into a warm embrace. The softest of beds and blankets enveloping the two.

“Indeed. It is as I said.”

“Then, if it is as you said, it is how it shall be.”

“Indeed… but that is enough about me.” Never one to like focusing on herself for so long, Mille-Feuille turned it towards the other. Intrigued by the many deals and glimmering treasures the other sought and found… if not a bit overly curious about certain attributes.

“I’m sure you have things far more interesting to share with me. Show me.”

A soft chuckle fell from Oyster’s lips. Coarse, from age, and yet no less loving and sincere, “Perhaps I do, but they can wait. Till the morning sun graces us.”

And with that, the light was extinguished. And the two were left to linger in darkness. One pair of eyes shut to meet pleasant dreams.

Yet the other… such sincere umber eyes. They remained open. If for only a little longer, in silent contemplation and melancholy. No longer lit, they sank into a darkness no one would ever think could reside in one such as her. Yet… it did. And she couldn’t bear the thought of anyone knowing, so no one would know. Not the council… especially not her. For everyone’s sake. For her own sake . She just… couldn’t know. She couldn’t gaze into the abyss, nor… see the light of providence herself. Not yet.

Her dearest…

Her chérie…

“Oh ma chérie …”

Was all she could muster. Before, eventually, her own eyes finally shut. And another night passed…

~

Time had passed. Months? Weeks? It was lost, both on a state in ruin and one frazzled mind who, for the first time in ages, shut the door of her private quarters with haste. No sound, not a word to her guards and attendants. Breath heavy and teeth gritted, but finally… on her lonesome.

The indecisiveness of those Cookies of Sweet rang in her head. Hastening her breath, causing her fist to ball up in anger she didn’t know she had. She was angry… bitter.. so, so very hurt--  

That lingering bitterness from that most cowardice of elder’s words lingered on her. Wore down her skin till she almost felt the need to scratch it off herself. Such an insult within the chambers she and her fellow Cookie of the Sea had worked so hard to get into. Not to mention the other’s and how they sat by and did… nothing, until it was too late.

And… her…

“… AGH!!'' Unbecoming of the peak of the republic’s intelligence and finance, Oyster let her fists hit the recently shut door with a pronounced THUD. Before they slid down in defeat… along with the rest of her slender body. Exhausted and at its wits end from the previous series of events. The insult that was the council meeting, their very republic shaken to it’s very core by the darkness itself.

… she, of all people, only learning the truth when all the other elders did.

Her body shook a little. A sight no one would ever live to see… or live to tell others, as one hand left the door to feel the saltiness staining her cheeks. Glistening from her eyes. She hadn’t even been given any time to process this. Any of this. Not from Custard. Not from the other elders, nor forces beyond even her own knowledge and control. Nothing could prepare her for… not knowing… she…

She was supposed to know everything.

She did know everything. She knew the one with amber eyes that would haunt her dreams till the end of days had something to hide.

And yet…

“… ha. Ha ha…” Even one as strong as Oyster. As put together and sure of herself as she had her moments of weakness. And if there was ever a moment for her to be so overwhelmed… it was here. On her lonesome, despite not wanting to be. Despite only wanting one person here to question… no. Not that. Or… just that.  

She just wanted to see her again.

“Haah… oh ma douce .” Her words spilled out in a wave of uncertainty. She felt betrayed. She felt lonely. She felt hurt. She felt… she…

“Mille Feuille…”

… you could’ve told me , Oyster thought.

After all, an elder with a damning secret wasn’t anything new. Whether it was unsafe milkshakes no one on that damned council took seriously, or a plot to take the Soul Jam for themselves. It… wasn’t enough to change how she felt…

What she wanted…

…

Her feelings didn’t change the facts, however. Wishes couldn’t come true. She was no longer here.

[valorxdrive]

Incoming! A pair of princess hands reaching around to cover his eyes while her chest presses into his back, it should be obvious that it's her, anyway, but Kairi thinks she's funny. Whispering into his ear, ❝ Guess who~ ❞ [ from @maregiis ]

♕ - Moments like this are the few and far in betweens where he loves to get lost within the darkness. Like this, where the warmth grows, molding upon his senses to effortlessly explained that such a cherished and beloved heart was up to it’ mischief. Part of him wonder if Kairi knows that even with the shadows tucked beneath the eyelids, how light dances upon her fingertips and is imbued in her presence. Instinct alone managed to find paradise as he could feel the press of her body against his, a welcomed selfishness as those lips curved with a familiar tinge of amusement.

“Hmmmm, mighttttt.. have a hard one on our hands.” Sora breathes out in response, a small round of gooseflesh rising from the way her breath ticklishly taps at his lop. This was a voice he could never forget, that no amount of fallacy, illusion or lies could ever tear away with from his intimate knowledge. A familiar, warm and loving fuzziness began to pound and rise with each beat, ushering out a small round of snickering as his teeth shows within his smile. “Whoever is askin’ questions while sweeping lil ol’ me away? They might be a bit too good of a super spy..”

“But. Why does this sound like an old partner in crime I had before? A cookie jar thief who knew the risks of a real good pay out?” Sora muses, reaching up to gently tap a few of his fingertips across her knuckles. Leaning back just a bit, it’s proof that this whole mystery game might be getting him a touch comfortable. “Or was it someone who wanted to jump on a raft with me to the unknown? Let me tell ya, she got really shy looking after blurting that out too.”

“Or this someone who managed to find me in a giant space castle? Hugging me on the spot, even if I was some tongue-tied goofball at the time? This voice is ringing that kind of familiar..”

Do you let him go on Kairi? There may be more heartwarming memories. BUT. The embarrassing ones could also take flight if you’re ill prepared!

@maregiis

[shorif-02]

Riding the Waves of Emotion: Starlyn Haneman's Transformation and the Art of Nurturing Well-being

Riding the Waves of Emotion: Starlyn Haneman's Transformation and the Art of Nurturing Well-being | Season 3 Episode 326 Have you ever been caught in the grip of emotions so raw they left you breathless, or gone through a day swaying under the weight of unspoken anxiety? We've all been there, and this episode is a balm to those aching parts of our psyche. Our guest, wellness maven Starlyn Haneman, sheds light on her own evolution from a gritty motorcycle mechanic to a guiding force for women grappling with anxiety, showing us that it's more than okay to ask for help and to step into vulnerability. Strap in for a ride across the vast terrain of self-discovery and healing, where we uncover the strength in facing the tough stuff head-on—be it ditching an alcohol habit, dismantling the myth of the ever-sacrificing parent, or inspiring our kids to acknowledge their emotions. We're peeling back the layers, not just on personal growth, but on how our actions ripple out to those around us, like our children who are watching and learning from our every move. This episode is a heart-to-heart on the messiness of being human, the laughter and tears that come with growing pains, and the profound impact of leading by example when it comes to expressing feelings. Forget the cookie-cutter approach to wellness; we're breaking molds and challenging norms. Life's a wild hike and everyone's trail looks different. From the transformational power of exercise as a mental health tool to overcoming the guilt that shadows our strides toward self-care, we're here to remind you that your path to well-being is yours to carve. So, let's celebrate the individuality of our journeys, the peculiar fears that make us uniquely human, and the steps we take toward better health that can ignite change far beyond ourselves.