Chapter Text
The witches created him to be a guide, for all cookiekind, the Fount of Knowledge. So, he shouldn't had distractions, lustfull desires that could tale away his focus were complety out of picture, he was pure, shouldn't be stained with dirty acts. So they made him make a vow of chastity, his virginity shall never be taken. Not even by other virtues.
He becomed a symbol of purity, the saint virgin of knowledge. Even after they taken away his dignity, refuse his honestly words, he never denied it.
He might be a liar, a beast, a filthy creature, corrupted, but, at least he had his vow. The only pure part of him. Even that, he almost managed to lose, how stupid of him, it was great that he shut off those throughts. At least that tree was usefull for that, his body wouldn't be touched, his purity wouldn't be stained.
Shadow Milk may be a corrupted creature, but not even this could make him any less a saint.
Thats what he believed. What little filled his ego, his virginity, something he would cage it, to never lose or be taken from him. He was still a saint if he did it, a untouched light.
Until. Pure Vanilla. He was a real saint so why? Why he is... Like that?
He couldn't understand, how someone was pure was the healer embraced the lust so well?
He wasn't scared, the advances, a simple touch in his things, a pec that last a little longer. He couldn't do that. He can't do that, he got so scared, he needed to keep it. It doesn't matter if he wants it, if he wish for Pure Vanilla to take his hand higher... He needed to keep the only thing that is still pure on him.
So, he asked for more time, after marriage, after the weeding. He expected, anger, begging or maybe resentment... But he heard, Pure Vanilla never went over what Shadow Milk deemed inappropriate, he was paranoid—? Maybe? Any touch less puritan, he already is re-talking his boundaries. He was scared, he didn't know how to deal with opening that cage, he go over his own desires and emotions to keep it closed, hold on it like it was the last thing he had of a good trait. Even for a man like Pure Vanilla, that would rather cut off his hands that touch him in an uncomfortable way.
But that night. He assumed it would be painfull or ever boring. But, honestly, he would pay anything to revive that night, to be able to feel those touchs again, to be seen like that again. Because the way Pure Vanilla looked at him... He couldn't dream of it in a million of years, all the confidence he builded before was melted. That look of admiration, of love, he never feeled like that never in eons.
He admited, that night, the reason of why he holded on his virginity so dear. He never wanted it, he could admit his hate for his vow. He knows its not ideal to say this, in that moment, on his first time, he cried, tears streamed down at that moment. It was happy tears throught. The witches always made him believe it was painfull or dirty, it would stain him forever in regret.
But he couldn't regret that moment even if he wanted, the vunerability, the intimacy. He needed to admit throught, he is still embarassed of what followed throught.
He learned more than he expected in a single night, if you know what i mean, but he loved every single moment of it. He likes to fuel his husband's perversy, he loves Pure Vanilla's perversy. He likes to feel loved and desired.
He acted disinterested because he was ashamed, pushing away the pecs because he knew that would end in a indecency but he still provoqued in his own way, he knows Pure Vanilla goes over the moon seeing him happy, of course even being a pervert he would find a way to be romantic. So he makes sure to affirm how better he feels after meet the healer, how free and loved– and truthfull, he never lied about this. He never feel this loved and happy on his entire eternity, he can see throught every layer of lust, a love so pure that it could only come from his soulmade.
He spent so much time holding into that cage, that he didn't notice how bruised his hands were from doing so.