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Echoes of days gone by [VISUAL NOVEL] by Ninel_Cvetaeva
Fandoms: Cookie Run (Video Game)
28 Mar 2026
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Summary
Pure Vanilla reached out with his warm hands to the cold Beast, burning from his barb. Whatever the ancient did, Shadow Milk refused to give in, refusing to let him see beneath the surface of his intentions. Who would have thought that the impetus to unravel the riddle of the jester's soul would come from the Spire of Deception, almost betraying its master?
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Summary
For a breath, Pure Vanilla can only stare- before he finally cocks his head to the side and says, “Pardon?”
Shadow Milk’s smile falters, and he rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on,” he drawls. “I knew you weren’t the brightest, but come on. Shouldn’t you be happy to see me like this?” He grins once more, giving a wide flourish of his arms. “Just as foolish and content as-“ One hand sweeps forward, jabbing a finger sharply into Pure Vanilla’s chest. “You!”
Pure Vanilla grunts, momentarily wobbling before he pushes himself to his feet with the assistance of his staff. “I… No, yes, I gathered that you were mocking me—“
“Who isn’t?” Shadow Milk cuts in.
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or: PVC furthers his efforts at befriending his other half, while SMC shapeshifts into anyone but himself in efforts to avoid emotional vulnerability.
Bookmarked by SLRW
24 Feb 2026
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Summary
Dick so good you break or something along those lines
- Words:
- 13,485
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 57
Bookmarked by SLRW
19 Feb 2026
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Summary
a foolish mistake leaves shadow milk cookie with a heat cycle. desperate for a partner, he turns to the only option he can think of.
(aka me going down a horny route with shadow milk's shapeshifting abilities)
Bookmarked by SLRW
19 Feb 2026
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Summary
A final thought came to him.
Eventually... He would slip into his permanent drift.
Not sleep. Not death. Something slower. Quieter. A dream that never ends.
In it, perhaps, he could build the world he never had. A world untouched by betrayal, unburdened by power.
Or maybe… he’d dream of what came after. Where he no longer had to be good or wise or anything at all.
Perhaps he’d see them again there, Eternal Sugar, Mystic Flour, Burning Spice, Silent Salt; shadows of themselves, softer, kinder.
But maybe not.
It didn’t matter.
The dream would be his.
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Shadow Milk is torn between further corruption and redemption. But comfort is easy to fake. Paradise is easier to build when it’s built on lies. Maybe he’ll make his own.
| COMPLETED |
Bookmarked by SLRW
25 Jan 2026