gatoe
Recent works
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[Fanart] limbo by gatoe for GooseRot
Fandoms: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
20 Sep 2023
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Summary
shen yuan and his creature that he loves very much
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Unprofessional. This was highly unprofessional.
That was the thought Shadow Milk clung to like a life raft while her mouth was very, very busy being unprofessional against Pure Vanilla’s.
She had meant to demonstrate. A quick, controlled example. A practical illustration of “this is how you write it, you hopeless creature,” accompanied by maybe one (1) chaste kiss.
Instead, Pure Vanilla had her spread out beneath her on the bed, cardigan pushed up her arms, lips parted and flushed, and Shadow Milk’s sanity dangling by a thread.
Their mouths met again, and the world narrowed to the press and pull of it— Vanilla’s soft gasp, the way her fingers fisted in Shadow Milk’s ponytail, the slight, nervous hitch of breath right before she dared to kiss back harder.
Shadow Milk broke away first, because somebody had to.
“T-This,” she managed, voice wrecked and breathless, “this is how you should write it. Got it?"
“I’m still… unsure,” Pure Vanilla murmured in response, her lips brushed Shadow Milk’s cheek. “Mind if we try again?"
Shadow Milk made a noise that was definitely not a whimper and absolutely not a prayer.
God. Fucking. Damnit.
Bookmarked by gatoe
18 Nov 2025
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What lingers first in Pure Vanilla’s memory are two eyes— cyan and blue.
They were not simply colors, not merely shades to be catalogued among the blossoms that lined the Vanilla hills. They were shadows caught in ice, stars buried in snow. And in the middle of all that frost, a boy who looked too small for the crown that would one day press against his brow, eyes too large for the timid boy who held them.
Pure Vanilla had not known then that love could strike so young.
He had thought it the sort of thing that bloomed late, like the orchids that only flowered when the sun coaxed them after patient months of waiting.
But with Shadow Milk, it was not coaxed— it was immediate.
Pure Vanilla is six, and he knows he's in love.
(It never changes)
Series
- Part 7 of My Cookie Works
Bookmarked by gatoe
02 Oct 2025
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“You dressed up for me, didn’t you?”
The prince flushed instantly—cheeks warm, ears turning red beneath the fall of gold in his hair.
“I—I did not,” he managed, far too quickly.
The stranger froze.
Only for a blink. A breath.
And then—He howled. A laugh tore from his chest—loud and wild. Not the sly little chuckle he usually exhaled, but something full-bodied and absolutely delighted.
“You—you actually did!” he gasped, clutching his stomach as if the absurdity physically hurt him. “Oh, witches, I was only teasing! I didn’t think—oh, you dumb, dumb prince!”
Pure Vanilla, still very much crimson-faced, crossed his arms lightly, trying—and failing—not to let the corner of his mouth twitch.
“I did not dress up for you,” he repeated, softer this time.
The thief wiped the corner of his eye, breath hitching between the remains of his laughter. “Oh, please, don’t lie to me now, little prince. I’m already touched.” He sat up straighter, juggling his half-eaten apple as if he was a jester in mid act. “You waltzed into the woods looking almost like a bride, I mean! Witches! You’ve got enough metal on you to ransom a kingdom!"
Series
- Part 6 of My Cookie Works
Bookmarked by gatoe
07 Aug 2025
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Shadow Milk Cookie lunges, fury incarnate, but Pure Vanilla is ready. He doesn’t raise his staff. Doesn’t cast. Doesn’t defend.
He simply steps forward. And wraps his arms around him. Not in battle.
In embrace.
Shadow Milk freezes. His forehead presses to Pure Vanilla’s collarbone. Not gently. Not willingly. But needfully.
“Don’t say you forgive me,” he says, voice ruined. “Don’t you dare.”
“I’m not,” Pure Vanilla replies. “Not until you're ready to hear it.”
The candles crackle. The walls hum. But in the center of the room, something quiet unfolds.
Not peace. Not yet.
But the possibility of it.
And Shadow Milk Cookie—terrible and lonely and terribly alive—lets himself be held. Just for a moment. Just until the trembling stops.
How cruel, then, how unthinkably cruel, that this moment must end.
Because in three months’ time, he will be nothing.
In three months’ time, his name will be only used in past tense.
And Pure Vanilla Cookie will stand alone beneath the candied stars, cradling a broken body.
Just to do it all over again.
Series
- Part 1 of My Cookie Works
Bookmarked by gatoe
16 Jul 2025
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"I won’t make a deal,” Pure Vanilla says, plain and simple. “Not unless I understand every word of it. Not unless I believe it fair. And not if the price is someone else’s pain.”
“You dare to set your terms,” The fae murmurs, his voice no longer playful. No longer velvet. It is frost now, delicate and sharp enough to flay skin. “You sit in my ring, in my garden, and you deny me?”
Pure Vanilla meets his gaze, calm and clear. “Yes.”
The fae snarls.
“I could kill you,” the fae whispers. “Slit you open like a fruit. Spill your mortal heat onto my garden and let the flowers drink your heart."
“You could,” Vanilla agrees mildly. “But I’m told human meat is stringy, and frankly, I’m not sure I’d make a good stew.” He takes another small bite of rice, chews serenely. “Besides, isn’t that just a myth? You lot eating people.”
“You’re testing me,” The fae snaps. “I should curse your tongue to rot in your mouth. I should blight your precious village until even the stones forget your names.”
“Can’t,” Vanilla says lightly, tapping the side of his riceball with one finger. “You’d need my true name. And I’m fairly certain you don’t have it.”
The fae curses.
Series
- Part 2 of My Cookie Works
- Part 1 of Pureshadow fae au
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Bookmarked by gatoe
16 Jul 2025