Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The days always dragged by when Fount of Knowledge went through the usual, dreary cycle of his common duties in his Spire of Knowledge. Always cleaning, lending books, or having countless cookies come to his doorstep for answers for the silliest questions. When he was first baked fresh from the oven, he was nothing but ever-so-grateful and excited to search for knowledge to use to enlighten his followers and spread across all of Earthbread. though, as the cycle repeated, and more and more cookies grew weary of truths they didn't want to hear, so did he. He only ever found joy in finding the rare, one-in-a-million cookie who wished to truly seek out knowledge just as he did, but eventually, it always became too awful to bear for them too. Even as a Beast Cookie, he could feel himself slowly succumbing to telling more than just a white lie every now and then to make the cookies he cared for feel better about themselves.

One, long day after spending time in his library as a librarian, loaning a ridiculous amount of books to a hefty amount of cookies, he wearlily trudged along the carpeted floor of one of the many, many winding hallways of his spire. It was evening now, and he could spend the rest of the night to himself... sleeping. He didn't care about his studies, though he knew that he'd regret it in the morning that was soon to come. He brushed his mild worry aside, insisting to himself that it would be okay to deal with in the morning. 

He began to make the long trek to his room, lifting his feet off the ground in levitation to make it easier on his fragile body. He slowly floated through the lonely, dimly lit halls, his wavy hair gently flowing behind him. He could feel... a presence. Something wasn't right, he knew that much. He always got a tingling feeling when something was about to happen, but it didn't always happen right away, which cast a wave of unsureness descending upon him like a deadly chemical in the air. He began to fidget with his fingers, before clasping his hands tightly together--a nervous habit. His blue fingertips turned a cool white color, a sign of the jam that ran through his veins leaving his skin as he pressed too hard. 

Though, once he reached the comfort of his room, he brushed it away like a dust bunny under a bed. 

His room was fairly large, despite not being anywhere near the largest room of his Spire of Knowledge. It had a canopy bed of a light blue color palate in the center, pressed up against the back wall. Sheer, light blue curtains tied to the poles that supported the canopy part cascaded down like waterfalls, barely brushing against the floor. The bed could suit two cookies, a bedside table on either side and a blue blanket draping the white sheets. On the right side of the room were three large bookshelves that reached the stone ceiling made of mahogany, and on the left was a desk in front of a tall window filled with scattered papers, a few fountain pens, a bottle of ink, and a lantern with a magic, blue flame flickering inside. The evening sun shone through the glass, filling the room with a warm, colorful menagerie of pinks, blues, and oranges all swirling together to make its own version of a rainbow. Although Blueberry Milk Cookie felt much more relaxed in the safety of his confinement, he couldn't help but still have that lingering feeling in the back of his mind telling him that something was going to go wrong.

A soft sigh left his lips as he headed to his desk,  setting his staff with his Soul Jam to the side before plopping down in his chair. He pulled the open book in front of him closer, scooting in until his waist nearly touched the edge of his desk. A book about sealing magic, one that he hasn't touched in a little while. In order to continue getting better at magic, he ate through books like moths eating through clothes, which including re-reading what he already deciphered long, long ago. 

As his blue eyes meticulously scanned each page, he began to lose himself in the soup of letters that quickly spread out like an ocean. He always enjoyed the feeling of escapism that wading through the lakes of words that all his books provided him, but it often caused him to lose track of time and his surroundings. Only when he let out the first yawn did he realize that the full moon has risen, casting a gentle, welcoming, white glow to his room. He sighed in resignation, longingly staring at the last half-inch of the book he had left to read.

Fount of Knowledge lazily pushed back his chair, forcing himself to his feet and stretching his arms above his head before putting his hands on his hips and leaning back to stretch his spine with a quiet groan. He dragged his feet along the floor as he shuffled to his bed, collapsing on the thick blanket and fluffy pills with a soft fwumph. He wormed his way under the sheets, rolling onto his back as he tried to get comfy between the pillows. He shut his eyes, still shoving down the lingering feeling of dread that slithered around the dark parts of his mind as he forced himself to travel to the world of slumber. It was probably just anxiety, anyway.

or, so he thought.

It was only about an hour or so of deep slumber that he could get until he was forced awake by a particularly huge burst of magic energy just outside his room in his corridor. His eyes snapped open as he shot up, feeling the sparks of magic lingering in the air like an aura of electricity during a torrential storm. His eyes locked on the wooden door, a great feeling of apprehension welling up inside him. Someone was here, and they were powerful.

Pure Vanilla Cookie lay on his back just outside Blueberry Milk Cookie's room. His heterochromatic eyes gazed up at the ceiling of the Spire of Knowledge, knowing that the spell he cast was in fact, a success. He didn't care about the consequences... for the time being, at least. He could save Shadow Milk Cookie from his downfall. He would. A light smile tugged at the corner of his lips as his white eyelashes fluttered close, the fingers gripping his staff relaxing into an open palm. His shaky breaths steadied as he felt waves of exhaustion crash over him, allowing himself to be dragged under by the riptide of sleep. His body ached from over-exertion, but that was the last thing he felt before drifting away to unconsciousness.

Fount of Knowledge burst into the hallway, his eyes falling on the sleeping, oddly handsome cookie with long, golden hair that sprawled out across the floor. A rather interesting cookie, to say the least. Though, out of every interesting detail, the one that caught his attention the most was a sparkling, blue crystal fixed on a golden brooch on his clothes. Based on the magical aura in the air and surrounding the crystal, he could already tell that it was a Soul Jam, and the spell he cast was one for... time travel.

He didn't understand. The only cookies who carried Soul Jams were himself and the four other Beast Cookies, and as a matter of fact, this one's looked exactly like his, save for one detail. It didn't have the singular, dark line in the middle that made it seem like an eye. And to make matters worse, he could sense an air of something else... writhing around inside this poor cookie's Soul Jam, quickly clawing its way out. He couldn't recognize it at first, at least not until he was kneeling beside him. His face immediately paled as he realized what horrors this cookie was about to go through.

Corruption.

He quickly hoisted him in his arms into a bridal carry, darting into his room without a second thought. He practically threw him in the bed, quickly snatching his staff that leaned against the wall as he prepared a sealing spell. A bright, golden light illuminated the room as he raised his staff above his head, channeling as much magic as he could muster with this little preparation. This had to work. It absolutely needed to, or he was royally screwed by a pretty cookie turning into a corrupted monster he didn't even get to known the name of.

It was going  to work.

Chapter Text

Blueberry Milk Cookie squeezed his eyes shut as he focused every thought in his head on the sealing spell. Yellow energy swirled around the staff like a whirlwind, while translucent, magic chains locked into place on his Soul Jam. His knuckles turned a cool-toned white as he gripped his golden staff like a vice, the metal starting to heat up from the top because of the sheer magic force he was using for this. 

Immense power radiated from his own glowing Soul Jam. Once he mustered up enough magical energy, he finally cast the seal, forcing it upon the corruption caused by this cookie’s own irresponsibility. How this cookie managed to get this far back in time, he didn’t know. Especially not why, either. Though, that didn’t matter right now. The only thing that did matter was keeping this strange cookie that glowed as bright as the sun itself from turning into an awful beast that even the Witches would have trouble erasing from Earthbread. Did he know what he was doing? Not exactly, but if anything could keep this at bay, it would be a damn good sealing spell.

As Fount of Knowledge forced the seal, Pure Vanilla Cookie seemed to grow increasingly more uncomfortable. His face scrunched into a grimace in his sleep, his body growing rigid as he too, struggled against the corruption. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenching shut as soft, pained groans left his lips. The storm of magic being poured out of Blueberry Milk’s own energy reserves swirled around the room, the open book on his desk’s pages flapping and turning in the wind. The curtains of the canopy fluttered as much as they could being tied down, which made him thankful he kept them tied most of the time. If not, they’d be flying in his face right now.

After what felt like hours of casting this spell, despite being only about thirty seconds or so, the chains finally got a good enough grip on him to put the seal in place. The corruption was locked away, yet only for the time being. Soon, it would come crawling back from the shadows, ready to release its onslaught on the poor cookie once again. The yellow glow dissipated into bright orbs of golden light, which floated up into the air until dissolving into nothing. He dropped his arms to his sides, heavily sighing as he placed his staff leaning against the wall.

The spell was done. Somehow, it had worked. It had worked, and the strange cookie was safe. At least, for another twelve to fifteen hours. Then, he’d reinforce the seal. After all, this was all he could do on such a short notice. He’d do it as many times as it took until he could find a way to get rid of it. He didn’t care if there was no known cure. This was a dire necessity.

As soon as he thought he could take a break, pain shot up from his fingertips and through his forearms. He threw his head back and groaned in dissatisfaction, knowing that even that, despite all his power, was overworking himself without proper preparation. He shuffled over to his desk while rubbing the sleep from one eye, tugging one of the drawers open to take out a jar of healing salve he had for wounds when he couldn’t heal. Like in this case, for example.

He walked back over to Pure Vanilla Cookie in the bed, adjusting him until he was in the center with the blanket tucked over him up to his chest. He pulled his arms out from under the sheets, before rolling up his own sleeves to open the jar and apply the salve to his smooth skin. Once the salve was rubbed it, it began to heal him, shooing away the soreness and potential bruises away like swatting away flies out a window. 

Fount of Knowledge sat on the edge of the bed, turning to the sleeping cookie before him. Once he rolled up his sleeves, however, he noticed something. Something that made his stomach sink. Oh, this poor cookie. 

The sight of his faded, half-healed scars among the bruises from the spell practically cut his heart out of his chest and squeezed all the jam out of it. He didn’t know the reason, but he knew that these were more than simply scratches from an animal or monster. Though, it was more empathy than sympathy. He subconsciously scratched at his own arm, only another nervous habit he’s… developed over time. Though, he quickly swept the feelings away under the carpet of the shadows of his mind. He scooped some of the healing salve out of the jar, gently taking his right hand and applying it to his more than just a little textured skin. A sense of protectiveness sparked in his mind unnoticed.

He took his time on this cookie’s arm, making sure no bruise nor scar was left unhealed as the lesions and purple marks faded as if nothing was there in the first place. He moved onto the left arm, repeating the process until there was nothing left on that one, either. Whatever this cookie went through, he was sure that he didn’t deserve it. His eyes looked too kind, even closed. There was even something about his face that practically screamed sweet like sugar—other than the fact that he was a cookie—as if he radiated it at all times. Or maybe, it was just because he was pretty.

He closed the jar of salve, placing it on one of the nightstands—the right one. As Blueberry Milk watched his face, he noticed that he seemed much more relaxed than before after his scars were healed. A soft, weary smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze of off-colored blue eyes softening at the sight. He reached up to brush some of his hair away from his forehead, before noticing both his six-pointed, star shaped birthmark in the center of his forehead as well as his messy, tangly locks. He wondered if he’d appreciate him brushing his hair and braiding it to prevent it from knotting further. 

He leapt up from the bed, dashing out his room to the nearest lavatory to grab one of his hairbrushes and a light blue ribbon. He quickly floated back, shutting the door once again before making his way over to the bed again. He sat beside Pure Vanilla this time, gently turning his head before delicately gathering all his staggeringly long, thick hair and pulling it out from under the sheets. He brought the bristles to the soft strands of hair, carefully brushing through as to not accidentally pull it. There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that he probably shouldn’t, but he did anyway. This was a favor.

His hair was so smooth and soft that despite the tangles, the brush ran through it like water. The repetitive brushing was soothing to him, and it must’ve been to the strange cookie as well, because now he was slightly smiling. He took that as a sign to continue brushing.

Soon, all tangles were brushed away. He parted his hair into three, thick sections, overlapping each one into a loose braid. Surely, he would be happy. This was a totally normal thing to do for a random unconscious cookie who time traveled all the way back from the distant future into your spire to do who knows what. Surely. It was merely a favor.

After a few minutes of braiding, it was finished. He tied a bow at the end with the ribbon, making sure it was secure before turning Pure Vanilla’s head back. He set the brush on one of the bedside tables, before hopping up from the bed and heading over to his desk once more. He grabbed his chair, dragging it over to the side of the bed as quietly as possible. He promptly sat down and leaned back, silently watching the cookie as he slept for any signs of stirring awake or progress of the corruption.

He couldn’t help but feel drowsy. It’s been a long, long day, and despite using the healing salve, he was still completely, utterly, exhausted. It healed pain and wounds, not fatigue. Fount of Knowledge reluctantly closed his eyes, letting sleep take him over once again as he began to drift off.

The night passed slowly, but both cookies slept soundly. Despite the corruption, Pure Vanilla Cookie seemed pretty much fine. Now that it was sealed, its effects on him would be greatly dulled until it weakened and slithered out into the open again. He didn’t toss nor turn, no sounds coming from him other than light mumbled as he dreamed and quiet, soft snoring. Blueberry Milk, however, was a different story. The chair was uncomfortable to sleep on, and he was forced constantly adjusting his form to get an even slightly good night’s rest. 

Sooner than later, morning did come. Golden and orange rays shone through the window as the sun rose above the horizon, bathing the room in a beautifully warm light. However, it continued to rise, because neither cookie awoke as their faces were caught in the early morning glow. They were simply both too exhausted, especially the foolish cookie who spent all his magical energy on going to the past to save a cookie who convinced himself that he was beyond saving. If the witches thought he was, then Shadow Milk was sure of it.

Morning turned to noon, which was when one of them finally awoke. Pure Vanilla Cookie. His eyes fluttered open, his mouth stretching for a soft yawn as he gracefully stretched his arms and sat up in the bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, memories of what happened flooding back. As he looked around the room, he could confirm that it was definitely not his. And as his pastel yellow and blue eyes laid upon not Shadow Milk Cookie, but Fount of Knowledge—a wide grin stretched his lips as he knew that he succeeded. He could save his other half.

”I did it…” he murmured, softly sighing in relief. A pang of worry reverberated through his mind at the thought of the consequences of this choice, and what Shadow Milk might think of him going and randomly changing his past, or even the witches, but… he was too tired to fully put energy into worrying about it.

As he proceeded his surroundings, he noticed three things—one, his hair was in a braid. He looked at the sleeping Fount of Knowledge, knowing that he must’ve done it for him. Two, he could feel a very strong sealing spell put on the very dough of his being. Centered around his Soul Jam, his main power source, no doubt. Three… his scars were gone. As well as the bruises that would have been there from such a powerful spell he cast—traveling back around ten thousand years. 

He knew.

His face paled at the realization. Fount of Knowledge healed him, including his scars. He knew he couldn’t use the usual margarine cat excuse, because Shadow Milk admitted to him that he did the same when he was his past self in one of his very vulnerable moments, which were about as rare as finding a crystal clear diamond lying around in the grass.

His stomach tied itself into knots. No one was supposed to know, not even him. At least, not yet. He hated his scars, yet he never healed them enough to make them fade away. Reminders of what he’s done, memories of times he’s failed. That’s why he never healed them. That’s why taking care of himself was a mere afterthought. Sometimes he really was too busy, but not often enough to have no time at all. He forced himself to calm the feeling of fear welling up inside, his heartbeat slowing as he slowly inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. 

Once his mind was clear, he could think about… other things. He was grateful for the braid, he really was. Though, the seal, he didn’t understand. The longer he sat in silence, however, he began to… feel something, deep within. Something gnawing at the bars of a cage. Of course, it was none other than his self-induced corruption. He knew that this would likely happen, despite his dismay. Though, the seal seemed to be keeping it at bay… for now, at least. He could not let it get to him. As strong as he knew it was, he was strong, too. He’d just… fight it off. Hopefully. 

He let out a long, heavy sigh. This task would be hard, especially with the corruption attempting to devour his very being whole as if it’s been starved its whole life and rewrite it into something much, much worse. Pure Vanilla grabbed his hat that laid on the side of the bed, placing it on top of his head and adjusting it. He then turned to Shadow Milk- no, Blueberry Milk Cookie, who was uncomfortably asleep in the chair. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, gently placing his hand on his knee to shake it.

”Fount. Hey, Fount. Come on, wake up.” He murmured, his voice sweet like honey. A light smile graced his face as Blueberry Milk began to stir awake, mumbling unintelligible words as he was brought to consciousness.

He slowly opened his deep blue and bright cyan eyes, his catlike pupils falling on the pale yellow cookie in front of him. He softly gasped as he realized it was the corrupted, strangely pretty cookie from the night before, a spark of recognition in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, his sleepy voice a mix of curiosity and drowsiness. “It’s… it’s you…! The weird cookie that time traveled here!” 

Pure Vanilla softly chuckled. He brought his hands to his lap, sitting up straight. “It is me. I do appreciate the braid you’ve given me, and…” he began, his voice growing a bit solemn. “And the sealing spell. I’m sorry you almost had to deal with a corrupt me…”

”I-… it’s not a problem, really.” Fount of Knowledge replied, shaking his head. He was still astonished by his presence, and that he really did sound as kind as he looked. He briefly looked at his oddly identical Soul Jam, before back up at his face. “You… you’re welcome for the braid, your hair was messy. And, uh… what’s your name?”

He chuckled again. There was a small part of his heart that ached at the sight of the sheer difference in the way Fount and Shadow Milk spoke, but he brushed it aside.

”My name is Pure Vanilla Cookie.”

Chapter Text

“Pure Vanilla Cookie?” Fount of Knowledge repeated, leaning back in his chair. He glanced at the Soul Jam again with mild trepidation—the things that this cookie having one, his especially, entailed meanings that he wasn’t particularly fond of. Did he lose it? Did he die and it was passed down? Something must’ve happed to him if someone had his Soul Jam. So many questions for him to ask, he didn’t know where to start.

“I… y-you-… um.” He began, trying to put his thoughts into words. “How did you get that…? And how did you get here? Why did you get here, anyway? You should know, considering how strong that spell was, and the result, that time magic is ridiculously finicky and extremely dangerous.”

Pure Vanilla sighed. He knew the consequences, the dangers, the risks… but if the Witches didn’t try to stop him yet, they must know that this will work no matter what happens. “I know. I know about those risks, and I know what could happen. I know this is going to be a lot, but I came here to… warn you. And to save you.”

”Save me?” He was taken aback. A hand drifted to his chest, almost as if he were offended. He wasn’t, of course, just merely shocked. What could possibly be so bad in the future that made him need saving in the past?

”Yes. I know you’re curious about your-… our Soul Jam, as well. This is only half of it, actually.” Replied Pure Vanilla, his fingers drifting to the cool surface. His fingertips brushed against it, feeling the quiet hum and vibration it gave off as it resonated. “In the future, see, you… you and the other four Beast Cookies end up being, well… how do I put this, exactly?”

He looked up at Fount’s worried face with a bit of sympathy. First, he randomly finds a random cookie from the distant future in his corridor. Then, said cookie nearly gets corrupted and sleeps for hours. And when he wakes up, he immediately dumps all this information on Blueberry Milk Cookie about falling to the weight of his power and getting sealed away in a tree for centuries by the people who cookies considered their gods. It was a lot to handle over just a few days, and even Pure Vanilla knew that. Personally, if that happened to him, he’d have a breakdown then and there.

”You five end up succumbing to the burden of your own powers, one by one. No longer are you all monarchs meant to lead cookies as kings and queens, but you wreak havoc and bring chaos and destruction instead. The Witches seal you away in the Silver Tree in the Faerie Kingdom in Beast-Yeast for centuries, taking the “better half” of your Soul Jams and giving them to five more cookies in the future to… replace you.”

Fount of Knowledge was astonished. At first, he didn’t believe it, but that was simply fear and denial lying to him. Though, the longer he stared at Pure Vanilla Cookie’s Soul Jam… the more real it felt. He wasn’t lying at all. He and the other Beasts were doomed. His heart sank at the realization, his stomach twisting into knots. His fingers gripped the fabric of his dress, his blue knuckles turning white.

“That… that can’t be true.” He whispered, his chest tightening as the reality of the situation descended upon him like a fog. He wanted his life to be more exciting, but not like this. 

Pure Vanilla frowned. He softly nodded, folding his hands in his lap. “Yes… it is true. The other holders of the Soul Jam halves are my friends, and each of us have traveled to Beast-Yeast after you all broke out of the Silver Tree to prevent you from wreaking more havoc and reclaiming our halves of the Soul Jams. You’re my other half, see. Shadow Milk Cookie.”

He couldn’t help but wince at the name. He never knew that it could end this way. And why did the Witches handle it the way they did? Couldn’t they help instead? They always seemed so kind and benevolent, and they held so much power over the cookies… couldn’t they have done something? Surely, there had to be other ways. Being sealed in a tree for centuries sounded like hell on Earthbread. It’d make anyone go insane, surely.

”I… I just can’t believe that.” He murmured, his head tilted and his gaze downcast. He’s done so much good in his life, why must the future treat him so horribly? What did he do to deserve this?

…A lot of things, actually. 

“I know it’s a hard pill to swallow,” Pure Vanilla interjected. “But that’s why I’m here. To save you and your friends. I know that it could go very wrong, but I’m going to make sure it goes right. I care about you, Fount of Knowledge. More than you know.”

He took a shaky breath. He needed to steady himself, now. He couldn’t let Pure Vanilla see him in distress. He knew that he probably expected it, but it was practically second nature to hide it. Though, no matter how many masks he put on, the hurt he was feeling managed to shine through anyway.

”You’re risking your life for a cookie you barely know! Are you insane?!” He exclaimed, bringing his hands to the top of his head in an attempt to calm himself down. “Do you plan to do this alone? Do you even have a plan at all?”

He brought up his hand for a moment as if he were to comfort Blueberry Milk, before putting it back in his lap. Shadow Milk wasn’t the fondest of touch, so he assumed that Blueberry Milk might be the same if not similar. “First of all, I know you very well. Second, no, that’s why I need your help. And third, yes. It’s not exactly detailed, but time magic is unpredictable, so I made it to allow a lot of wiggle room.”

”My… help? Why do you think I’ll suddenly get up and help you, huh? I feel hopeless after hearing all you’ve told me!” 

“Do you really want to be sealed in the Silver Tree for centuries because of something that wasn’t even your fault?”

”…Fair point.” He lowered his hands from his head, resting them on the armrests of his chair. “But… what about your corruption? Your magic is practically shot because of it, and if it’s not, it’s nearly uncontrollable. Is it really worth sacrificing yourself for me of all people?”

”I absolutely think so.” He smiled warmly. “Listen. I care about each and every version of you, all across timelines whether it be in the future, present, or past. Even if the choices you made were… not exactly the greatest, the Shadow Milk Cookie of you taught me that to chase the truth, the future I desire, I must embrace deceit in all its glory. Balance is always necessary, and can be the key to many great things.”

”You sound like a saint,” he muttered as he crossed his arms. “But what if it’s inevitable? What if we’re going to fail, and I end up falling anyway? What if I’m not able to be saved?”

”We won’t fail. I’ll make sure of it,” he replied. “You deserve a future where you can be happy. Where you can live your life unbothered by the burdens of knowledge. I will help shoulder your pains. No one needs to do this alone.”

He hated how kind Pure Vanilla Cookie was. Except he didn’t, he just hated that he was so kind to him. There was no way he deserved someone so… benevolent. So generous. So pretty—wait, what? He immediately pushed that weird, random thought down, looking at him with a conflicted expression. Part of him really wanted this, to be “saved” by such a lovely cookie. The selfish part. The other part was worried for him. He was trying to do all this, while corrupted. Based on how he looked, it looked like he barely took care of himself. Especially going off of what he healed earlier.

”How do you expect to save me when you’re in so much danger? You may be powerful, but that corruption will eat you whole from the inside out. I’ll help as much as I can with the sealing spells, but I don’t know how much longer it’ll be until… until it takes you. You should allow yourself to rest, you know. I know that I’m a hypocrite saying that, but you really should. Take your own advice. If you’re helping me with my burdens, it’s only fair I help you with yours.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Why did this come as such a surprise to him? His friends, the other Ancient Cookies, lectured him about this all the time. Maybe it was because he could see what Shadow Milk Cookie meant when he said that he reminded him of his old self. After a few moments of silence, the smile returned to his lips.

”I… appreciate this. You truly are kind, Fount of Knowledge. I suppose you’re right… but if it helps my case, I’ve been doing better about eating on time and sleeping for longer periods…” he awkwardly chuckled, his fingers intertwining together in his lap.

”Oh you slept for a while, alright. At least you seem to have that down already,” Blueberry Milk snickered.

”Hey, that spell took a lot out of me!” He exclaimed, before softly laughing a bit more confidently now. “I didn’t even know if it’d actually work, anyway!”

”Alright, alright. I’ll lay off. But… what’s your plan, anyway? To waltz in to every Beast Cookie’s domain and give them a therapy session?”

”…More or less, in a much simpler way to put it. But you’re their friend, right? It’s not like they’ll label me as a crazy intruder if I have you by my side.”

”I suppose you’re right. But you should know, this kind of thing is gonna take ages. It could take up to a whole month, and your corruption will only get worse as time goes on.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie nodded solemnly, his head lowering. “I… I know. But I’m sure I’ll find a way. And if I don’t… I’ll make sure that I help each and every one of you before my time is up.”

The way he said it so casually like it was an everyday occurrence was… concerning. It was like he didn’t care about his corruption at all. Or about what would happen to him. He was so self-sacrificing, it almost made him sick. It certainly made him worried, of course. Worried for his wellbeing. He was so sweet and kind… soon, his benevolence would be his downfall.

”Then… I’ll make sure your time never runs out,” he replied. He didn’t know why he was getting so attached to this cookie so quickly, but he brushed it aside for now. He was his only chance for a better future. “I promise.”

“Thank you, Fount of Knowledge.”

”Please, enough with the formalities. Just call me Blueberry Milk Cookie.”

”If you insist,” he replied with a chuckle.

An air of comfortable silence fell between the two. It was nice, to be able to sit with each other without needing to say anything. It was like they were friends already, which was more than just a struggle for Pure Vanilla to get to with Shadow Milk. At least, it seemed that way on the outside.

After a few moments, Fount of Knowledge stood up. He took a step closer to the bed, before leaning in… and wrapping his arms around Pure Vanilla Cookie’s shoulders. He actually quite liked affection, but often never really had anyone to give it to.

Pure Vanilla was shocked. His smile grew wider as he wasted no time to hug him back, his touch warm like a freshly baked loaf of bread and comforting like a blanket made of cream sheep’s wool.

”Thank you,” Blueberry Milk Cookie murmured. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”

”Of course you do,” he chuckled. “What else do you think I’m here for?”

Chapter Text

Blueberry Milk Cookie released the hug after a few moments, stepping back and moving the chair up against the wall. There was a lingering thought in the back of his mind about wishing he was still hugging him, simply because his aura was so unbelievably pleasant. Pure Vanilla Cookie felt like someone who you could tell anything to, confide in, or simply ask to go on a picnic because you were feeling lonely. He’d be the type of person to bring all the food and necessities and wait until you ate your fill until even touching a crumb of bread just because you were feeling particularly hungry.

It confused him, almost. How could anyone be that kind? Sure, he made it a point to be nice and lovely himself, but even he got sick of giving too much. Did Pure Vanilla’s wells connect to the ocean and never ran dry, or what?

”If we’re going to help each of the Virtues, then we’re going to need a map.” He spoke, striding over to his desk. He tugged one of the drawers open, carefully pulling out a large piece of yellowed parchment rolled up into a long scroll with a blue ribbon keeping it closed. He untied the fabric, unrolling the map, then walked over to the end of the bed. He spread the parchment across the sheets, folding over parts of the blanket to keep the corners down.

”This is a map of all of Beast-Yeast. While I know how to navigate myself fairly well, you likely don’t, and there’s always the off chance that we’d get turned around. And, it’s not like I know where every single tree is planted off the top of my head… which is a common misconception, since I am called Fount of Knowledge.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie looked at the map, softly chuckling as Blueberry Milk Cookie began to go on a rant about Beast-Yeast itself. Even Shadow Milk Cookie went on little spiels like these, when he wasn’t busy tormenting him or forcing him to play a weird, cryptic version of a board game with new rules that often helped him win.

“I figured. Shadow Milk often talked about how… “annoying” it was for the common cookie to assume you-… he knew just about everything simply because he constantly read and learned everything he could. Even I think that sounds extremely exhausting.” 

“It… is,” Blueberry Milk replied in a soft tone. He fell quiet for a few moments, before speaking again in a much more somber voice. “It truly is exhausting, you are correct. And when I do give them an answer, the truth, they always… lash out, if it’s not the answer they wished to hear. They shout and cry and call me names and go off spewing nonsense to make themself feel better. I… admittedly, I’ve told more white lies as of late to prevent it. They leave my spire happy, and I don’t get shouted at.”

Pure Vanilla frowned. This was how Shadow Milk’s corruption began, descending into utter madness after one too many lies.

“I can understand where you’re coming from,” he began. “You just want cookies to be happy, and you wish to protect yourself. You slip in little lies to keep them loving you and worshipping you like they have before, to prevent… change. But I must tell you, this is the beginning of your slow, painful downfall. You have to stop, now.”

Blueberry Milk’s face scrunched with discomfort. He knew that this was likely how it was going to happen, since this very problem had him bending over backwards to avoid. He sighed and shook his head in defeat. It felt inevitable.

”Then how the hell am I supposed to keep them all happy?”

Pure Vanilla leaned forward, looking into his eyes with a gentle, yet hardened gaze. He spoke up again, his voice much more serious now. “That’s one thing I’ve learned, being a king. You just can’t. I too struggle with it sometimes, but you’re a cookie, just like them. Even if you’re a bit more special than they are, you’re not a god. You’re not a Witch. There will always be people who will not like you nor the answers you give them, but you just cannot control that. But, don’t let that discourage you. That’s not a problem that you should have to deal with.”

Fount of Knowledge grumbled in reply, a scowl pulling down on the corners of his lips. He defiantly crossed his arms, lightly kicking one of the legs of the bed frame in silent retaliation. “How do you combat that, then? Now, it seems like every single cookie asking for the truth leaves dissatisfied.”

“Show them the good side. Always be optimistic, and show them that it’s not all bad. Give them ways to make themselves happy with the truth that does not end up in denial. Be kind and welcoming, and let them express their grievances if you have enough energy to do so.”

“And if they still don’t like it?”

“That is out of your control. You are simply doing your job. You cannot please everyone.”

Blueberry Milk Cookie paused. He didn’t like what he was hearing—and he could actually understand how those cookies that didn’t want the truth felt. This certainly hurt, but it was good advice. It was what he needed to do. He slowly nodded, looking back up to Pure Vanilla Cookie with a weak smile. “I’ll try, then.”

However, another question bubbled up inside. One he’s had as soon as Pure Vanilla Cookie informed him of his future. He sat down on the bed next to him, making sure he didn’t sit on the map and crush it.

”I have… something else that I must ask of you, Pure Vanilla.” He murmured, looking away to the floor. He uncrossed his arms, gently grabbing at the sheets as if to steady himself. “Shadow Milk Cookie. Future me. What is he like?”

Pure Vanilla figured that this question was going to come sooner or later. He too would be curious, he couldn’t blame him for this. He thought about sugarcoating it, but he wasn’t sure if Fount would appreciate that of him. So, he told him the full truth.

”Shadow Milk is… complicated. Being the Beast of Deceit, his absolute favorite thing to do is spread lies and chaos in a way that he can control. But, he has a reason for everything he does, even if he pretends he doesn’t. Most of it is that he’s lonely. He wants someone to understand him, someone to be mad with him. Since I am his other half, he picked me for that.”

Pure Vanilla let out a shaky sigh, his body becoming tense as memories of that awful place began flooding back. He continued, going a bit slower to help his fast paced heart.

”He tormented me. Tortured me until he was sure that my whole world view fell apart. While it was an awful time, I did not lose hope. Even if it felt like I should give up, I kept going. I knew that becoming like him was the only way to defeat him. But once I did… I realized that he taught me about himself. I began to understand him better, I was able to empathize with him. He and I went through very similar struggles, only responding to them vastly differently. While I do not condone his actions, I care about him. More than I’ve cared for anyone before. Maybe it’s our bond, maybe it’s because we’re the only two who can truly understand each other, or maybe because we are two sides of the same coin—but I truly do care. That’s why I’ve come here to save him. To save you.”

Fount of Knowledge couldn’t help but wonder why his cheeks started turning a bit red as he spoke about how much he cared about him. He brushed it aside, deciding to focus on the more… important parts of the conversation. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he truly processed the information, the thought of becoming what he hated pulling at his heartstrings. He didn’t want to become that. He would not. The thought of laying a single hand on Pure Vanilla made him sick to his stomach.

“I won’t become that, I promise.” He replied, shaking his head again. He stood up from the bed, walking back over to the map. He needed to get his head off of his future self, and they needed to start this journey as soon as possible. Pure Vanilla didn’t have much time.

Pure Vanilla Cookie gave him a sympathetic smile, before looking back to the map.

”We are here,” he said as he placed a blue finger on a tower-like object on the map. It was labeled ‘The Spire of Knowledge,’ which was quite unsurprising. He dragged his finger across the yellowish paper, pointing to a group of mountains settled below what looked like a river. “The Ivory Pagoda. This is where the Saint of Volition lives. I know that the Bringer of Happiness is technically closer, but I really don’t want to deal with her eccentric ass right now. Going to Enchanted Flour first will be much easier and… safer. She is much calmer, too.”

”Oh? Is Bringer of Happiness… not calm?” He asked, tilting his head with curiosity. Hearing their names, his mind went to his friends, Hollyberry Cookie and Dark Cacao Cookie. He and the other Ancients spoke with each other about their Beast counterparts, and Eternal Sugar seemed… mostly calm. When she wasn’t crawling at Hollyberry’s feet begging her to stay, of course. 

“Depends on what mood you catch her in. She mostly is, but she’s… very, very clingy. She made a whole garden with the power of her Soul Jam to make a safe haven for cookies to avoid the burdens of life. She gets attached very quickly, no matter who you are. She also tends to have a bit of a… savior complex, I’d say. And oh, she’d absolutely adore you.”

Pure Vanilla hummed in response, making the very easy connection between Bringer of Happiness and Eternal Sugar Cookie. They seemed pretty similar. Though, that probably meant that Bringer of Happiness was on the brink of falling over the edge.

“…I see. Well, I’m sure that I can help, no matter how clingy she is. And why would she like me?”

”Well, first, you kind of look like a woman. Second, your soft voice and pretty face would catch her eye immediately,” he begrudgingly grumbled in reply. “Just make sure you don’t look tired around her, or she’ll dote on you until the sun goes down like a mother hen.”

Pure Vanilla Cookie paused. His brows furrowed together as he looked down at his outfit and body, the golden hair pooling on the sheets of the bed certainly not helping his case. Okay, maybe he did look like a woman. Not like anything was wrong with it, but it was a bit off-putting. He sighed, nodding along in understanding with the rest of his sentence.

Then, Blueberry Milk Cookie rolled up the map, taking the piece of ribbon to tie it around it once more. “We’ll leave by late afternoon. We need to do this as quickly as possible, even if I reinforce the sealing spell on you. That corruption will still claw at the bars of the cage.”

”Alright, then. Though, I must ask—what is Enchanted Flour Cookie like?” Pure Vanilla Cookie asked, standing up from the bed as he began to take out his braid to prepare for the adventure. He preferred to keep it down, anyway.

”She’s quite levelheaded, actually. Sweet and soft spoken, but she is a bit anxious sometimes and quite the people-pleaser. Her job is to grant wishes for her followers to make their lives easier, basically. Fairly simple, but they’ve been getting more demanding, lately…” 

“Alright, then.” Pure Vanilla walked over to his staff, which leaned up against the side of the bed. He wrapped his fingers around the familiar metal, before turning back to Blueberry Milk Cookie. “Shall we prepare?”

Chapter Text

It’s been a few hours since Pure Vanilla Cookie and Fount of Knowledge have set out to seek out the Saint of Volition, or Enchanted Flour Cookie. The sun was slowly descending, painting the sky a beautiful rainbow of orange, yellow, pink, and blue. It should be around seven in the evening, or at least, that’s what Pure Vanilla Cookie assumed.

Having just crossed a river, they now walked through a forest of tall trees with needle-like leaves as the air grew a bit colder. They weren’t in the mountains yet, thankfully, so it wasn’t unbearable. Warmth wouldn’t be a problem, however, because both of them could produce at least a flame, and Blueberry Milk brought a large sack of things they might need. He used a simple levitation spell to pull it along, since his body was much too fragile to hold a heavy bag for hours at a time. 

“It’ll be late soon, the sun is setting. Would you like to set up camp yet?” Fount of Knowledge asked, rolling up the map he had in his hands and storing it away in one of the side pockets of his satchel. “It gets darker sooner now that it’s later in the year.” 

“Hm… I suppose. I can see a small clearing up ahead, why not there?” Pure Vanilla replied, pointing up a couple yards ahead. He started walking a bit faster, clearing away the leaves with his feet once he reached the spot. He started collecting a few rocks, laying them all on a circle for a fire. 

“Alright then, I don’t see why not.” Blueberry Milk Cookie followed close behind, placing his bag on the ground. He unrolled two small pieces of cloth to make a tent, as well as pulling out a folded blanket, a long pillow, and some rope from the largest pocket. He laid one tarp on the ground between two trees in front of the fire pit that Pure Vanilla made, before picking up the other and tying both ends to the trees by threading the rope through two holes that have been poked through by a sharp object. He placed down the blanket and pillow, looking quite proud of his work. He looked to Pure Vanilla Cookie behind him, who already set up a fire pit with dry tinder and sticks.

”I assume I shouldn’t use much magic while being corrupted…” he mumbled, sitting down in front of the pit. He glanced to the makeshift tent, noticing that there wasn’t that much room for the both of them. They’d be quite close together…

”That’s right. Allow me to start a fire, and then I will cook dinner.” Blueberry Milk knelt down beside him, moving one of his hands to the wood and tinder. He snapped his fingers together, a flame sparking to life amongst the sticks.

“That’s a lot of stuff you brought,” he inquired. “How does it all fit in that bag? And… I don’t mean to sound rude, but,” he motioned to the tent, and how small it was. It wasn’t actually that small, but it would feel more cramped than it seemed. Or, Pure Vanilla was overreacting. “Are you sure you want to share a bed?”

“Magic!” He chirped, reaching over and pulling the bag closer to grab a pot, a waterskin, and ingredients to make hot jelly stew—one of the simplest meals to make. “It’s not bottomless, but it’s much more spacious than it looks. It’s very useful for traveling, no?” He then looked to the tent, then back to Pure Vanilla, his eyes widening a bit. “Oh, I don’t mind. Do… do you? I don’t mind sleeping by the fire, if you want me to. I only want you to be comfortable.”

”N-no, of course not! I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with that. That’s why I was asking. But if you’re okay with it, then I am.” Pure Vanilla smiled, looking back to the fire as it grew with each new stick added. 

“Alright then.” He pulled out a few pieces of lumber from the bag, arranging them in a log cabin style campfire to place the pot over the flames. He poured water into the small pot, now waiting for it to come to a boil. 

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Bubbles from the bottom of the pot began to rise, and a serenade of crickets filled the air as if it were just for the two of them. Pure Vanilla stared at the pot, his mind beginning to wander.

He was… afraid. Afraid that this wouldn’t work, or could mess up the future in a terrible way. What if this wouldn’t be enough? How could he even make sure it could be enough? And even if it did mess up, and he went back to prevent himself from going to the past at all, he’d still be corrupted, and his friends would have to probably kill him. At least, if he didn’t run off and hide before that. This plan had to work. It needed to. If he had to sacrifice himself for the one he cared about the most to have a happy future, he would.

Blueberry Milk Cookie began to think as well. He didn’t think he deserved the actions of Pure Vanilla at all. If he fell to his power, then it was probably his fault, so he should suffer all the consequences. It was his mistake, not Pure Vanilla’s. And still… he seemed so adamant on saving him. Why did he care so much? Why was he so… kind to him? Why didn’t he demand answers and then suddenly get angry if he didn’t like the response like most others? 

Soon, the pot was boiling enough to add ingredients. Pure Vanilla Cookie watched as he began to add in both jellybeans and jellyberries, common food that the average cookie could find growing in an orchard or forest. Fount of Knowledge pulled out a ladle from the satchel, starting to stir the pot as the water slowly turned a red color. A faint, sweet smell wafted into the air as the food began to cook.

Pure Vanilla felt hungry. He was a bit ashamed, but reassured himself that there was probably enough to eat between the two of them. Though, he began to wonder if he could convince Fount that he wasn’t hungry. He should probably save his portion for later, if he or Fount really needed it then. He was used to not eating, or rationing foods when he went by ‘Blind Healer Cookie.’ This was no different.

Once the stew was ready, Blueberry Milk Cookie reached into his bag once more, taking out two wooden bowls and spoons. He frowned as Pure Vanilla Cookie shook his head, trying to push it away. 

“I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I’m not hungry. If you have something to put it in, we should probably save it for later.” He said, handing the bowl and spoon back to Fount. At least, trying to.

”Nonsense,” he replied, pointing an accusatory spoon at him with a scowl. “You’re eating this food. How could you not be hungry? It’s been literal hours since you’ve eaten last. Besides, you need to save your energy for tomorrow. It’ll be colder, and we’ll have to walk a lot more than we did today. I made enough for both of us.”

”I-“ he began, but Fount of Knowledge left no room for protest. He took his bowl, ladling some of the jelly stew into it before handing it back to him. Pure Vanilla sighed in resignation, taking his spoon and starting to eat.

It tasted like any other old jelly stew, but it was still warm and comforting. He began to realize how hungry he actually was, subconsciously eating a bit faster. He heard a soft chuckle from Blueberry Milk’s direction as his bowl reached half-empty, making his heart briefly flutter at the sound of his happiness. Something about his laugh made him feel so… warm inside. He looked up with a curious expression and a tilt of his head. “What are you giggling for?”

“You said you weren’t hungry, I thought.” Answered Blueberry Milk, motioning to his bowl. “You’ve finished half already, and I’ve barely managed to take three bites.”

”Oh! Pardon my manners, I apologize. I guess I was hungrier than I thought…” 

The sun was now a mere sliver above the horizon. The sky above grew darker as the two ate their dinner, twinkling stars dotting the sky above the two as the moon glowed amongst them. It was a peaceful night, even though it grew colder from the lack of sun. Pure Vanilla set his bowl aside once he was finished, which was then taken and cleaned out by Fount of Knowledge using a rag and the waterskin. He placed everything back into his bag, now gazing at the fire.

He still wondered why Pure Vanilla was doing this. It was likely because he wanted to bring peace to Earthbread, right? A soft sigh left his lips as he prepared to speak. His blue eyes didn’t leave the bright orange flames.

“Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, crossing his arms.

”What?”

”Saving me. Or- well. Saving me and the other virtues.”

Pure Vanilla sympathetically smiled, scooting a bit closer to him. Even as the Fount of Knowledge, it still seemed that he didn’t have the best self image. His heart ached for him. All he really needed was someone to love and understand him. 

“I care about you deeply, Sh- ah, Blueberry Milk Cookie. I came to save you because I want you to be happy and have a bright future. I actually originally planned on coming here just for you, but… I figured out that wouldn’t work. So, I made a plan to save you and all of your friends. Starting with you, of course.”

He didn’t expect that answer, though he knew that he should have. He didn’t believe it. More like he didn’t want to believe that someone would care that much, about him of all cookies. Pure Vanilla is risking his entire life just to even attempt to give him a better chance at living. He felt so, so grateful, but so incredibly guilty. He knew he didn’t deserve that kind of care. 

He could feel his eyes starting to tingle and burn. Tears threatened to spill, and he didn’t know why. He absolutely hated crying. It made him feel weak. Though, it was more than just because he didn’t think he deserved the care that Pure Vanilla was showing him. Maybe it’s because he cared about his other half, too. He looked up at the other with wide, watery eyes, and a soft sniffle as he mumbled out a quiet “thank you.”

Pure Vanilla took his hand in his own, gazing into his eyes with nothing but kindness and warmth. “Of course, Blueberry Milk. You only deserve the best. It was the worst that hurt you so much.” He then stood up, and waked over to the tent. He sat down and pulled up the blanket, patting the empty space next to him. “Now, come sleep. It’s getting late.”

Blueberry Milk slowly nodded, wiping his eyes. He doused the fire, then approached the tent and laid down. He turned away from the other, trying to give him as much space as the five or so inches apart would offer. 

“Goodnight,” he murmured. He shut his eyes, pulling his legs in to his chest.

”Goodnight, Blueberry Milk.” He replied, smiling before turning away as well. He laid in silence for a few moments, hearing his other half’s soft breathing grow slower and deeper as he drifted off into the sweet land of slumber. A wave of exhausted crashed over him, reminding him of how tiring and long the day he had was. He stretched his body, his sleeves falling down to his elbows. He caught sight of his bare wrists, the seed of guilt once planted spreading like a weed as he thought back to when he first saw the smooth, untouched skin. 

He pulled in his arms, his fingers tracing over the warm dough of his wrists. He was so used to texture, to memories of the unbearable past, that it was jarring once it was taken away from him. He still felt awful about them being healed by someone else and not him. He shouldn’t need that, and Fount of Knowledge came and did it anyway, all because he didn’t take care for himself well enough. If he wasn’t so much of an idiot, or if he hid them well enough, maybe he wouldn’t have to know. He was a healer, he didn’t need to be the one to be healed.

He closed his pastel, blue and yellow eyes, letting slumber take him over.

Chapter Text

Pure Vanilla Cookie woke up in his bed. His large, fluffy mattress, with a thick blanket to trap warmth during harsh, winter nights. Usually, it gave him a sense of comfort and security, but now, it felt… wrong. He slowly sat up, his blue and yellow eyes glancing around the room. He didn’t have his staff, and yet, he could see. Perfectly. Too perfectly.

His room wasn’t the usual, gentle coloring of tan, light blue, and pastel yellow. It was entirely greyscale, as if he were in an old movie. The air had an eerie sense to it, like something was watching, waiting. Perhaps it was someone, instead. His half run down castle was not as safe as it should be, and he was the one haunting it.

Pure Vanilla slowly climbed out of the bed. His body felt tired, his hairs standing on end as he left the almost suffocating slight warmth of the blanket. The temperature wasn't quite cold, nor quite warm. Just room temperature enough to put him on edge. All he was dressed in was a simple, white robe, covering his hands by a good few inches and dragging behind his feet. By this point, he knew that he was dreaming. A lucid dream. Perhaps it was the corruption messing with his head.

He drifted through the room as if he were a ghost. His footsteps were light, and the floorboards didn’t even make a sound no matter how hard he stomped his feet on them. His body practically glowed in the painfully colorless moonlight, being the only colored thing in the room. It was like he wasn’t even supposed to be here at all. Like he didn’t exist yet. He decided to leave the room, his mind set on going to his lily garden, which was usually quite calming to his mind. 

The hallways were dark. The only light came from the dim wall sconces and his own, strangely bright form. They felt unfamiliar, and they twisted and winded like he was in a maze. After wandering for what felt like hours on end, he finally found the doorway leading to his garden. It was certainly a lot further from his room than it usually was, a result of the ominous not-quite-nightmare he was having. 

He stepped inside. The garden was just as grey and as quiet as the rest of the castle. The rows of casa blanca lilies bloomed proudly in the shining moonlight, the petals still white and the usual red anthers a dark grey. The long, angular leaves remained still until Pure Vanilla’s gentle hands caressed the smooth surface. Upon feeling the dull sensation of the leaves, however, he could feel a sense of emptiness. Loneliness. The feeling was small, almost quiet, and he could barely feel the leaf itself. But still, it was there.

He pulled his hand away. He headed to the gazebo-like structure in the center of the garden, stepping through to the small pond by the side. He sat down with a sigh, staring into the colorless water.

He held his hand over the surface, frowning as he realized… he had no reflection. Like he wasn’t supposed to be there, or if he wasn’t there at all. He slowly lowered his hand, dipping his fingers below the cold surface. It wasn’t the usual refreshing, calming coolness, but instead a dead, icy feeling. He pulled his hand out, wiping to the water clinging to his slender fingers as if trying to pull him back, on his white robe. He sat quietly for a few moments, solemnly staring at the small pond before him.

He was alone in here. He knew that much. It was just too quiet, too calm for anyone but him to even “exist” in this place at all. And still, the tension rose. The garden didn’t give him the normal feeling of serenity like it normally did. It only brought the feeling of a deep, endless pit of emptiness, the void within swallowing up whatever had the misfortune of being thrown inside its well. He almost felt fatigued, tired but not sleepy, the kind one would feel after having absolutely nothing to do all day and no one to talk to. Despite all the lilies, the structure he sat in, the pond, the folded grass where the birds used to sit, it seemed to him that perhaps there was nothing there at all. He wasn’t the owner of this place anymore, he was a visitor.

Lost in thought, he spotted something strange among the lilies. One of the flowers was wilting, its petals turned down and its leaf on the very edge of drying up and falling. He stood up, curiosity filling up what was once the empty well of apathy. He walked out of the gazebo-like structure and over to the lily, a sense of sadness overcoming him at the sight of its death despite it only being a dream. He began to worry about his friends, the other ancients, in the future. To him, they didn’t exist yet. To them, he was missing entirely. Perhaps Shadow Milk Cookie was kind enough to tell them where he had gone…

One could hope.

He brought his hand up to the wilting lily. As soon as he touched it, however, it immediately shriveled up and fell to the ground. He softly gasped, his heart jumping at the sight. He looked up at the other lilies, fear and shock washing over him as the other lilies around him suddenly met the same fate. It spread like a disease, each lily withering and dying one by one. He bolted back over to the path, whipping his head around while his garden wilted and died. 

“It’s just a dream,” Pure Vanilla reminded himself. Each lily turned to ash as it met the grass, blowing away in an invisible gust of wind, left forgotten by its caretaker. He couldn’t save a single flower. But it didn’t matter, did it? It was just a dream. So why did it feel so unbearably real? Why did it wrack his soul and turn it inside out and fill it with despair? Why did it feel like each lily was begging him for help, for water, for care, and he could do nothing? They needed him. And he was just as helpless as them.

The last lily fell. Upon fading away, he felt that emptiness return, only now accompanied by cold, heart-wrenching melancholy. His hands fell to his sides, the white sleeves sliding down his arms and beyond his fingertips. The soft sound of radio static filled his ears, an ambiance describing how lost and alone he truly was.

The static grew louder. He looked up and around, confused, trying to find the source of the noise. Instead, he was met with the feeling of a soft shaking beneath his feet, which quickly grew stronger. He nearly lost his balance as loud rumbling replaced the sound of static, reaching out his hands for anything to stabilize himself.

And suddenly, the floor began to fall. A gaping hole began to open up before him, swallowing the grass and dead lily bushes as it grew bigger like an ever expanding black hole. He tried to run, but his legs wouldn’t move. The endless void swallowed him up whole like it hasn’t eaten in years, and with a fearful yelp he was plunged into cold, unforgiving darkness.

He fell for an unusually long time. His heart pounded and his head ached, his golden hair flowing above him. He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling in his legs and arms to try and protect himself from the darkness pulling at his body and trying to open him up and devour him. His body was met with water, which enwreathed his body with its chilly body. It was like it was hugging him, holding him, neither aggressive nor passive. Just holding him in place.

He blinked open his eyes, which surprisingly didn’t sting from the water. He began to swim for what was probably the surface, the direction where his body was floating. He breached the top, gasping for air despite not exactly needing it. This place was… new. It was obviously not a part of his castle, clearly, but it wasn’t anything he would’ve imagined before. It was a black void with an endless expanse of deep, yet dense water, which was a bright blue, the color of his Soul Jam. Although, it did seem a bit more on the greenish blue side, perhaps a nice cyan color, and it was… glowing. Glowing like a pool at night, bright enough to illuminate his vision and turn his body the same color.

It was a nice change. His Soul Jam sparkled in the light as soft ripples pushed him about. He gently kicked his legs and moved his hands back and forth to tread water, though it was a bit difficult with his drenched robe and hair. He was thankful that he didn’t need to blow out water from his nose or rub his eyes…

Pure Vanilla Cookie looked around, seeing nothing but glowing water and black void. He began to push himself forward, his heart rate slowing as he gradually let his guard down. He felt… safer here. The water surely would not let him drown, he knew that he was safe in that regard, at the very least.

The feeling of being watched suddenly returned. It wasn’t as harsh as before, but it was there. It seemed like he couldn’t catch a break, even as he aimlessly pushed himself along the gentle current. He nervously swallowed, his throat feeling dry. He continued to move, subconsciously moving a little faster now in hopes of finding some sort of stable ground. And of course, it never came.

The glimpse of something large underneath him caught his eye. An ominous, dark shadow rose from beneath, like it was crawling out the depths of the sea. He could feel a great force of water slamming against it as it floated its way up, its tall, shadowy form looming over like a great building or gargantuan monster. And it was a monster. Its body was illuminated from the glowing water, painting its feathery body like it was its muse. It gazed down upon him, like a predator to prey.

It didn’t move, not yet. It was strangely beautiful, an angel born from hell. He felt his chest tighten at the sight of it and the water still dripping off its fluffy wings and body. His gaze softened despite the fear spreading through his body, grabbing him by his shoulders and aggressively shaking him. His inner voice was screaming at him to swim away, to pathetically flail about, to kick and shout… and yet, he was enthralled and entangled in its influence. It felt like he was put in a trance merely by its presence.

The longer he stared, the more he felt a sense of familiarity. It felt like he was looking into a mirror, into an alternate reality or timeline. This felt like him, despite its angelic form shrouded in pure white feathers and a waffle cone halo. He knew this creature like he knew himself. Like he knew Shadow Milk Cookie.

All was silent. It only stood there, in the water, its gaze never leaving his small body. He was minuscule compared to it, and could probably be buried in the fluff around its chest. He raised a hand up to it, as if reaching out, in hopes to form some sort of connection. And to his surprise, it reacted.

White tendrils emerged from its chest. They slowly lowered for him, and despite the strange sight, it didn’t scare him. He felt like he should welcome it, even. Like he should worship it. It felt right to be drawn to this version of himself.

Its tendrils met the palm of his hand. They were warm, but not welcoming. It made shivers run down his spine, goosebumps forming on his arms. He didn’t move his body, remaining perfectly still for it to take time to get used to the feeling of him. For a moment there, he felt at peace despite the quiet feeling of dread bubbling up just as it arose from the deep itself. But that moment was short lived, as it opened its eyes and a wide, unsettling smile stretched across its once blank face.

He froze. It was at this point that he knew that he was screwed. He should have listened to his gut, but this creature was just too captivating to look at. He jolted his hand away and pushed himself back, but it was too late. The tendrils wrapped around his arm and he shouted in surprise and fear, and he was yanked out of the water and into the air. He dangled by one arm, and one strong, harsh movement, he was pulled into its body, swallowed up like he was nothing but a small bird caught by a cat.

He suddenly jolted awake, sweating and panting, his heart slamming against his ribcage. His body ached, for some reason. It felt… wrong. Like something was trying to escape. Ah yes, the corruption. The seal must’ve weakened overnight. Was the thing that he saw in his dream… the creature that he was to become?

He rubbed his eyes and slowly calmed himself. The sky was a grayish blue, not quite night but not quite morning. Fount of Knowledge was peacefully asleep next to him, and Earthbread was still. He collapsed back onto the bedding, planning to deal with the dream he had and the corruption once the sun actually rose.

Chapter Text

Blueberry Milk Cookie walked through a long, dark hallway. The walls were made of cracked mirror glass, and so was the floor and ceiling. Wherever he looked was an endless vortex going both ways. His reflections consisted of many forms, many phases of his life. Most of them seemed to be a young adult or older, of course, he never got to experience a childhood. Baked with a weak, adult body, with a power too great for any normal cookie to bear.

In fact, he would be a normal cookie without his power. Yes, his true form was a good bit bigger and more of the “mystical” type, but he was still just like the rest of cookiekind. It pained him to be seen as anything but that, and the only people who didn’t were the other virtues and Pure Vanilla Cookie.

Pure Vanilla Cookie.

As soon as the thought entered his mind, he could feel his heart skip a beat. He felt some sort of connection to him, not one he  had even with his other friends. Perhaps it was because he was still technically his soulmate, even if he were from the future. Nothing to do with his ethereal looks or enthralling gaze. Or even his sweet smile and melodic voice.

He pushed him out of his mind like he was shoving him away. He kept walking down the dark hallway, his hand pressed against the shards of the wall. His deft fingers dragged against it, and the smell of blueberry jam filled the cool air, but he had no lacerations on his dough. How strange.

He stopped for a moment, turning his head to his left. On the other side of the mirror stood a female cookie, with pale blue dough like his own. Her outfit was a long sleeved black dress, with a white apron on top and puffy sleeves. The fabric had a blue sheen to it, the iridescence sparkling as he gazed at it. Her hair was an off white color, blue tinted with a braid around the back and curtain bangs before the rest  cascading down like a waterfall. She had his eyes. It was him, and he knew that.

His “disguise.” He didn’t really need one, but when he wanted to go out and be among other cookies without being recognized for the sake of him getting time to himself, she worked. She also made him feel… a bit different. Comfortable. He didn’t have to be Fount of Knowledge when he was her. Just a pretty girl, a lady in azure. 

It was comforting. A slight smile tugged on his lips, his expression softening. She was one of the forms he actually enjoyed, not just for the idea of being undercover. He was a shapeshifter, and it was always a struggle to find a form he truly felt good in. Gender was strange to him, he felt like nothing and everything all at the same time. It often resulted in uncomfortable glances in the mirror, but this… he wasn’t uncomfortable here. It was easy to accept every form he had here. Perhaps it was because they were all displayed at once. Different faces, the same spirit. Some of them were animals, even. A wolf, a bird, a snake. And still, they all had aspects of him. And he was comfortable with that.

It was strange, unfamiliar, yet satisfying. It even made him a bit happier.

He’s been walking for ages. The hallway began to change, still broken mirrors, but now it wasn’t exactly linear. The hallway turned and curved, and even split off into other directions, sometimes. He traveled through it, making turns he knew were where he needed to go as if there was a predetermined path he was going to take no matter what he did.

The further he walked, the more the hallways spread and branched off. It felt like he was travelling through a root system, growing through the ground to find even a drop of water to sustain itself. He determinedly continued down his path, as if he had some unknown objective in a quest. He felt a sense of needing to find something.

The hall he was walking down opened up into a room. It seemed to be outside, but it wasn’t.

The “room” was a fast running river. Blue grass led out to the small shore of the river of white yogurt, and there were many plants surrounding him. Thick, leafy vines descended from the ceiling, bearing round, blue fruits about the size of palm, adjacent to some type of blueberry. There were still walls on either side, so it looked like the river was flowing endlessly.

Blueberry Milk Cookie took slow steps to the river’s edge. He gazed upon the other side, and although he was looking forward, it felt like he was looking back. Not back through time, or behind, but rather on the left side of a spectrum. The other side was symmetrical in every way, and yet, it felt unbelievably different. There was a doorway directly across from the one he stood in, like stepping through a threshold.

The river was too fast to cross. He nervously swallowed. Pushing himself off the ground into levitation, he was still quite hesitant to even dare to cross. He didn’t understand why he was so… apprehensive. It was like climbing over a tall fence with a sharp top, meant to keep people out, or to keep someone in. And yet, he was meant to cross it.

So he did. He gathered up the courage and floated over, his heart beating a bit faster. Despite safely and gently landing on the other side, the tension was still thick enough to cut through. He began heading to the entryway, and made his way inside. His heart didn’t seem to calm down. 

It was another hall of broken glass. This time, however, pages upon pages of paper were strewn across the floor. There were a few books as well, most with the spines bent and battered and the binding withered away. Only a few were intact enough to read. And upon looking at them, the pages seemed to be blank. Only when he picked them up and touched them did the words reveal themselves, as if he was gifting it the knowledge to write itself or be written at all. 

He felt his heart sink. The words put on the pages were simple excerpts, facts, or stories, but it all came from him. He was the source of it. Without his limitless knowledge, all would be lost over time.

The weight of the terrible responsibility of teaching endless cookies for thousands of years suddenly crushed him with the strength of a large, sky scraping tower being dropped on his head. He did it every day effortlessly, but the longer he did, the more and more cookies who started to hate him for it. They didn’t like what he had to say. The truth hurt, and he couldn’t help it.

Or could he?

Truth could be changed. Rewoven like the threads of fate. Reworded until it became a half truth, or seemed entirely different, completely unrecognizable. Once one realized that, it became quite difficult to tell the once definitive line between true and not true other than blatant fact. Truth was relevant. It changed depending on what people did. It was built solely on how society views things as a whole, if it wasn’t a simple yes or no question. What if something was true to someone but untrue to another? What if there was no such thing as truth or deceit, only right and wrong? But morality was nuanced beyond belief, too. So…

Did it really matter if he lied?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the air changed almost immediately. From deceivingly peaceful to incredibly dangerous, flipped like a switch, and it was absolutely jarring. A deep, vibrant blue light filled the glass halls, almost blinding hom like an ocean colored flashbang. A gust of wind blew from behind him, fluttering the pages of the broken books and scattering the paper around him. It was pushing him forward, deeper into the hall. He knew he made a mistake.

Fount of Knowledge’s throat clenched and his chest tightened. His heart began to pound, quickly pumping the jam that flowed through his fragile body. His lips were parted, and he was silently yet quickly gasping for air as if he was drowning in the sea of existentialism. He made a mental note to not think about deceit in his dreams.

And despite how much he wanted to run back, to return to where he started, he couldn’t. He spun around, seeing only broken mirrors behind him. Where did the river go? Did it leave when he wasn’t paying attention? He studied the mirror with a frown, the realization that he had to keep moving no matter what dawning on him like a rude awakening with the sun in your eyes. However, as he looked deeper, he didn’t just see a random form of himself. He saw a silhouette, roughly his shape, in different clothing. A wide collar around his neck, and some kind of suit. He’s never taken a form like that before.

It suddenly ran across the wall, and down the hallway. He immediately started following it, drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. Once his flame of curiosity was sparked, it couldn’t be doused or blown out. That was just in his nature, to pursue knowledge.

He didn’t even care where he was going. He kept following it, down the twists and turns and sharp corners. It wasn’t trying to escape him, but rather, to lead him somewhere to a very important destination. He eagerly chased it down a long section of a hallway, before abruptly stopping in a cube shaped room. It was perfectly even on all sides, and he actually found its perfect shape to be quite satisfying…

The silhouette stopped, its back to him (at least, that’s what it seemed to be), standing on the far wall. The broken reflections only seemed to reflect him, and not the many forms he took. He silently approached the wall, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Hello?” He spoke calling out to the figure. He was answered by a faint cacophony of giggles, overlapping each other, and in an exaggerated form of his own voice. It was startling. 

“Well, isn’t it nice to finally meet you again after all this time?” It spoke, laughing with a cheerful and strangely foreboding tone, before dropping to a much more sarcastic, almost annoyed one. “As if I haven't seen enough of you practically prancing like a horsy around my Spire of Deceit, tormenting me.”

“H-Huh? I haven’t tormented anyone. Who are you? What spire?” Blueberry Milk replied, taking a careful step back.

“Oh, right. You’re the one who doesn’t live in my spire. You’re still in the past! A different kind, at least. But you don’t even know who I am? I’m a little offended! Doesn’t the sound of your own voice ring any bells in that overloaded bookshop of a brain of yours?” It replied, turning around. It was still a shadow on the wall, but not for long.

“Oh well, I do have some time to properly introduce yourself.” The figure added, before suddenly reaching a hand out. It began to push through the mirror, a pastel blue hand emerging from the broken glass like it was water. A full arm reached out, placing its palm upon the glass to push it along, almost like it was struggling. He slowly crawled out from the glass, and Shadow Milk Cookie’s true form was revealed.

He was the same size and shape as Fount of Knowledge, but his hair and clothes were different. The mark on his forehead was now placed over his right eye, and his hair was no longer flowy or sparkly, but sharp and almost snakelike. It was two tones, blue on top and black underneath save for his white bangs. Blue eyes in the black part of his hair gazed upon Blueberry Milk with a sense of amusement, and Shadow Milk’s eyes on his face stared at him with the same expression. 

His clothes weren't the black and gold robe he normally wore. He had black pants and heels, one blue diamond on his right knee, one on the black vest on his chest, and two on his left knee. His eyelashes were black on his right side and white on his left, just like Blueberry Milk’s. His shirt was half black and half white, with blue fabric peeking out between slits in the sleeves. He wore a white jester collar, and his Soul Jam was a reversed version of Fount’s. This was him from the future, corrupted.

“Shadow Milk Cookie…?” Fount of Knowledge asked, his stomach sinking to the floor. He recalled what Pure Vanilla Cookie said before about him, his behavior and name.

“Ding ding ding! And I’m shocked it took you such a short time to turn to deceit! It’s quite alarming, actually.” He replied with a giggle, before his expression turned more serious. “But I’m not here to tease you, unfortunately. I’m here to warn you, and much to my dismay, to help. I really don’t feel like it, but Nilly’s having a nightmare, and you need to wake up soon. So let’s cut to the chase. Do not lie to anyone, especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.” 

“What…?” He asked, still stunned. He wasn’t expecting anything like this at all. He was usually good at processing things quickly, but for some reason, his brain was slower than a snail. He frowned at the thought of Pure Vanilla having a bad dream, and felt weirdly… protective. He looked up again at the mention of not lying, tilting his head. “Well, I wasn’t planning on it. But why him specifically?”

“You have to be completely honest if you want this to work. I won’t be erased when he fixes everything, but rather, we will be one. But you cannot lie to him or corrupt before he saves you, or else then it’ll all get messed up.” He replied with a sigh. He crossed his arms, awkwardly shifting his weight. “And… you know that he and we are soulmates. He… he knows when we’re lying. It’s like he can sense it. He can’t read our mind, but he can just tell when something is wrong. You both feel what the other does.”

“…Oh. Okay.” Fount of Knowledge murmured, his mind starting to wander. Could he feel the strange butterflies that he got when he looked at him? Or the joy he felt being close to him? “But, wait. Why are you even helping me, anyway? Is it just to save ourselves? For the sake of our life?”

Shadow Milk paused for a moment, his body tensing and jaw clenching. He hated being this honest to anybody, but it was himself, so why bother? He needed to know everything.

“I was the one who asked him to help me. He was trying to help me the whole time he was in my spire. It got to me. I was never treated so gently before…” he mumbled, starting to feel ashamed. “We fought. He beat me. I planned to flee, but he offered his friendship to me, and I just… accepted it. I don’t know why. But I did.”

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” 

“We are flawed, Fount.” Shadow Milk Cookie spat, his voice suddenly becoming harsh. “If he can’t save us, then no one can. He’s the only person who can even attempt to redeem us, and if he doesn’t, I’m beyond saving.” He took a sharp breath, his face scrunching as he closed his eyes. His hands balled into fists. He didn’t know why he fell so hard for the cookie he was supposed to hate, and it was impossible to not give in.

“We cannot exist without each other. We’re bound to one another. That’s why he can be the only one to help. He’s the only one who truly understands. The last glimmer of hope I’ll ever have.”

Blueberry Milk Cookie’s expression softened, and he took a step closer. He almost reached out for him, but pulled his hand away, knowing he’d probably not like that. He spoke up again, his voice taking on a softer tone. “I’m sure everything will be alright. He’ll be able to help us. And I’ll help him, too. Even with the corruption. But, if we’re so closely knit together, then how unbearable is it for you to be without him?”

Shadow Milk scoffed. The truth was, it was almost as painful as being trapped in that tree for so many years. He couldn’t help but miss him, but desire him. But he wasn’t going to tell him that, it was embarrassing. 

“That optimism will kill you one day, Fount. And just wake up already.”

And with that, the dreamscape he spent hours wandering was ripped from his vision. The sound of morning songbirds filled his ears as he slowly came to.