Shadow Milk x Pure Vanilla
(Open, Unmoderated)
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Summary
Pure Vanilla thinks he’s a saint. He’s spent a lifetime being the perfect heir, the perfect friend, the perfect king. He thinks he’s observing Shadow Milk from a distance—the silent prop-maker in the circus wings, the boy who lied to put a roof on top of his head, the man who wears a smile like a weapon on stage.
He thinks he’s going to "unmask" him.
What Pure Vanilla doesn't realize is that Shadow Milk has been observing him, too. Shadow Milk isn't a victim to be saved; he’s a jester who knows that every saint has a rot underneath. Shadow Milk doesn't want Pure Vanilla's pity; he wants his shadow.Pure Vanilla is prepared to love Shadow Milk’s trauma. But Shadow Milk is the only one brave enough to love Pure Vanilla's selfishness, his arrogance, and the parts of him that aren't "Pure" at all.
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Summary
The room is too bright.
It’s quaint, in a nauseating sort of way. Polished floors glint from the gleaming honeycomb chandeliers overhead, make him squint. A few vases sprinkled here and there, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet scent – even a waffle-cone headrest framing the silken sheets of a neatly-tucked bed. Outside, the golden sun gleams, the gentle rays of light spilling past curtains that waver in the afternoon breeze.
It's meant to be beautiful. Luxurious. Welcoming.
With one sweep of his cane, Shadow Milk tears it apart.
[[ Completed ]]
Series
- Part 1 of Jamma Jambound's SDVN works
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Summary
It’s such a nonsensical thing to do, to touch and feel the other squirming beneath him. To devour delighted, mischievous gasps and breathless laughs that devolve into something shameless and wanting. They are Cookies crafted by godly creators, not common beasts that rut and mate in the fields to bear offspring. There is no point in this. Their bodies are not made for this.
Yet each time Shadow Milk’s hands pass over his hips, each time they dip lower and tease new form into being - Pure Vanilla cannot help but feel he was made for this and this alone.
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Tags
Summary
The room is too bright.
It’s quaint, in a nauseating sort of way. Polished floors glint from the gleaming honeycomb chandeliers overhead, make him squint. A few vases sprinkled here and there, filling the room with a sickeningly sweet scent – even a waffle-cone headrest framing the silken sheets of a neatly-tucked bed. Outside, the golden sun gleams, the gentle rays of light spilling past curtains that waver in the afternoon breeze.
It's meant to be beautiful. Luxurious. Welcoming.
With one sweep of his cane, Shadow Milk tears it apart.
[[ Completed ]]
Series
- Part 1 of Jamma Jambound's SDVN works
-
Tags
Summary
How can someone be so etheral yet so deceitful?
You could say that this cookie was made by Witches' hand. A being so flawless that no light could conquer to its perfection. But no one knew the face behind that mask full of lies.