Chapter Text
Ah, December. The month of snow and cold days. The month of warm drinks and a roasting fireplace. The month of joy and happiness and whatever other cheery adjectives cookies call it. But for Shadow Milk? It was the month that Pure Vanilla would be hosting a gathering. A gathering, mind you, that all the beasts, the ancients, and the faeries, all of whom hate him, would also be attending. It was mostly a diplomatic meeting, if anything, with tensions still high between all the factions. And really, this was typically the type of event he loved! Where everyone hated everyone and he could watch the chaos unfold. But, unfortunately, he was the epicenter of this hate tirade, and not in a fun way. On top of that, Pure Vanilla thought it would be a good icebreaker to play some sort of secret gift-giving game, a ‘Secret Santa’ as he called it. They wouldn’t have to share names at the end at least, like in some other versions, but according to the ancient, ‘the act of gifting something thoughtful to others was enough’.
Shadow Milk groaned, running his hands through his hair as he stared at the calendar. Three days, three days to come up with a present for… well, he's been putting off figuring that out for at least a month. His gaze shifts to the neatly folded paper on the desk, still untouched. He half wishes it's Pure Vanilla, he might get sappy and handsy, and would certainly know the second he opened it, but at least he knows the ancient would never scorn a gift from him.
Shadow Milk's eyes narrow as he glares down at the unopened piece of paper like it personally offended him, debating just never opening it at all and leaving someone gift-less. From what he’s heard through the grapevine (Candy Apple and Black Sapphire’s spying) though, everyone, even Burning Spice of all cookies, has a grift prepared. If he didn’t give one they’d sniff out that it was him like a bunch of bloodhounds, and that would just make Pure Vanilla's life more difficult.
Shadow Milk groaned, snapping the piece of paper, still unopened, into some pocket dimension in the other side of the moon, before creating a rift of inky black in the relatively quiet space of Pure Vanilla's quaint living quarters.
Speaking of his minions, he had to check up on the little devils.
◦◦◦
Shadow Milk stepped out into the dark halls of the spire, sighing as he was met by the familiar dim blues and blacks. He quickly adjusts to the change in light, as used to it as his eyes are, as he makes his way to Candy Apple's room. He finds the cookie sitting on the ground, surrounded by pink, cream, and tan yarn as she knits with a passion fueled by the corpses of failed projects surrounding her. A pattern lay next to her that the beast made himself, courtesy of his own skills in doll crafting.
“Whatcha doooing?” He drawls, floating over her as he kicks his feet, a smirk on his face.
Her eyes light up with glee as she turns to look up at him. “Master Shadow Milk!” She all but screeched, flinging herself into the beast's arms.
Shadow Milk was pushed back a little by the weight of her, but still caught the cookie with a chuckle. “Is there any reason in particular you're making a Wafflebot graveyard?” He raised an eyebrow, laughing when she crossed her arms and pouted.
“I need it to be perfect for Strawberry Crepe! If it’s perfect it's like a double present because it means they designed the arm up to their standards.” As if in example, she flaunts the prosthetic, flexing the fingers and twisting the arm this way and that.
“Okay, okay, enough of that.” He drops her back to the ground with a grimace, bitterness welling in his throat. It still sickens him sometimes, knowing what happened to her and Black Sapphire at the spire, knowing it was his magic that did it, and knowing that Pure Vanilla kept it a secret for so long.
He shakes his head, dispelling himself from the thoughts as he tilts himself to examine some of the abandoned half-finished projects. A dropped stitch here, too much stuffing there, one with completely wrong colored yarn altogether, and one that looks more like a weird blob than that of anything discernible. Still, without missing a beat, he turns back to her
“I don’t see anything wrong with them?” He did of course, he wasn’t a blind bat like Nilly was, but if she kept it up at this rate she’d never get something done in time.
Candy Apple scoffs, looking almost offended, "don't lie to me! Those pathetic mortal cookies sure, but me?”
Shadow Milk sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You should at least finish them, lest you run out of time with nothing to show for your efforts.”
She seems to think about it for a while, eyebrows furrowed as she stares down at the plush scrapyard. She picks up one that looked promising, examining it carefully.
“I’ll finish this one,” She announces, “but I'm still trying to make the perfect one.”
“Go ahead kid.” He ruffles her hair, giggling when she gets fussy over him messing up her hairstyle, before leaving her to her knitting escapades in favor of making sure Black Sapphire has a gift in plan as well. Because ignoring his own problems and instead nagging others about theirs has always been one of his favorite pastimes. It’s but a minute of walking down the hall before he gets to Black Sapphire's room, knocking twice before letting himself in anyway like the responsible cookie he is. Black Sapphire is sitting cross legged on the ground, a carving knife in one hand and a large, slightly curved branch in the other. The bark has already been stripped, and he appears to be carving away at the belly of the stick. not even looking up from his task, he says something in greeting Shadow Milk doesn’t catch before shifting his full focus back to the project.
“You're making a bow.” Shadow Milk chimes in, taking a moment to admire the handy work. “It doesn’t look too bad so far.”
“Thank you for the wonderfully kind words my lord.” Black Sapphire mutters with a level of sarcasm previously unknown to cookie kind.
“Rude much,” Shadow Milk examines the object for a minute longer before asking, “so… who’s it for?”
“I thought the point of this was to not know.”
“Oh come on! It’s not like you guys would have gotten anything bad, you had your own draw! I’m the one who has to be worried.”
Black Sapphire paused for a moment, before answering. “Silverbell has been complaining lately about the maintenance required to keep his bow to its pristine quality when he has to train. So, I’m making him one he can use outside of battle to hone his skills.” He pulls up the turtleneck of his sweater slightly, making sure to keep the cybernetics stitching together the side of his neck and shoulder hidden. Unlike Candy Apple, who liked to flaunt the robot arm, Black Sapphire seemed more reserved when it came to the cybernetics now fused with his dough. Shadow Milk sighed, recognizing Black Sapphire's discomfort, floated down, coming to sit next to him.
“It’s gonna be okay kid, I know that was a horrible, terrifying day, but we’re all gonna be okay. Got that?” Shadow Milk pressed their foreheads together, taking deep breaths to try and calm the now erratic beating of Black Sapphire's heart. “I love you two, you're practically my kids, and I would never voluntarily abandon you, remember that.” Shadow Milk pulled away a smile on his face as he added, “now get back to making your boyfriend a gift.” His smile turned into a grin as Black Sapphire spluttered on about Silverbell not being his boyfriend, but Shadow Milk was already slipping through the just opened portal
◦◦◦
Shadow Milk held the small slip of paper in his hands as he stared out into the nothingness of the dark side of the moon. Eyes glowed dimly around him, all focused on that one, tiny, insignificant piece of paper. He could burn it, get rid of the paper, say he lost it and be done with this stupid game. He’d deal with the consequences later. The flame in his palm grew, just beginning to singe the paper when it was put out. No, he shouldn’t, he should play along, if anything for just the sake of a peaceful night.
His eyes narrowed, glaring down at it as he grit his teeth. Just get it over with- just get it over with. He opened it, and subsequently froze, little paper slip falling from his fingers like a floating bird.
Silent Salt Cookie
Fuck.