Chapter Text
Black Sapphire Cookie's existed longer than Silverbell Cookie can even fathom.
"Baked"—-or coded, as he knows—-to be Shadow Milk's minion eons ago by the Witches. He has dutifully, faithfully fufilled his life's meaning all this time, with no hindrances in the slightest, even in his master's absence. Spreading deceit and rumours gets easy, after so long. His carefully-crafted persona never cracked, never faltered, until he met Silverbell Cookie. A strange fondness blossomed from there, and, well, why don’t you just read on for yourself? It all started when:
A large clattering noise rang through the clearing, causing Black Sapphire to scramble behind a tree. The white brush below pricked him, but didn’t draw any jelly. He’d been attempting to infiltrate the Faerie Kingdom, and couldn’t risk getting caught. Through the branches, he saw a cookie gently reprimand a younger, clearly training them. The instructor was an absolutely showstopping cookie. He was tall, almost as so as Black Sapphire himself, and was relatively lanky, though it was clear that he had muscle on him. All of his gleaming, silver hair flowed seamlessly downwards, the only exception being a stubborn ahoge that stood its ground. Pale, delicate butterfly wings the size of his head sprouted from his back, fluttering with every breeze like their own organism. His garments were asymmetrical, visible armor scattered all around, and concealed armor layered within that one could only assume was there. It glittered in the soft sunlight, the heavy material looking strangely delicate on the cookie when, in reality, it was heavy. What should be causing a negative impact on his wings, instead, seemed nestled—almost lovingly, in a way—like it had been there thousands of times before and had learned its well earned place. This sanctioned, learned delicate-ness made the cookie more attractive, in Black Sapphire’s eyes. He knew the other was everything but, and he wanted to sink his teeth into this new realm of possibilities. Who knows, maybe what this cookie contains could be utilized, could be poisoned by the cloying disease that was deceit.
But, as he stared at those eyes, a pair that had probably seen more than they let on, Black Sapphire couldn’t help but like this random cookie. He ate them up with his eyes, scanning him up and down. Something about him was inviting—soft—and made Black Sapphire want nothing more than to hold him gently. It was his duty to spread lies, spread rumors, yet could he really do that against this random guard? Could he really hurt that pretty face, or those gentle, sloping hips? Black Sapphire Cookie wasn’t sure. A problem for another time, he thought, for what were the chances of seeing this random cookie, of the Faerie Kingdom’s thousands, again?
Yet, fate—or the writers—decided to be cruel as it always is. His emotions genuine, or just from code, Black Sapphire longed to see that gentle cookie again. He didn’t even know the baked good’s name, yet he clung to his thoughts like a child does a beloved stuffed animal. Gently, as to not hurt the stuffie, but firm in their grasp—so it cannot slip away.
He was just . . . so innocent. His soft, gentle complexion made him easy on the eyes, and the dew that clung to his eyes and lashes was so intricately delicate, so perfectly lain that Black Sapphire could just gaze at them forever. It's a cliché that the tall purple cookie never truly trusted, love at first sight. Yet, peering around the tree, he couldn't help but trust those silly fairytales after all. He should probably apologise to Candy Apple Cookie for calling her yaoi "idiotic, unrealistic media that no one—-no matter how good one may be at deceit—-would ever think could happen in thousands of years and simulated realities, even if they had been lobotomised". He didn't think he would though, deciding to either end up forgetting or simply just not giving her the satisfaction of it—-possibly both. Was it possible to forget things out of spite?
Either way, that pesky brat had no business in his thoughts right now. All who mattered was Master Shadow Milk, and—!
“Black Sapphyyyyy!!” A singsong voice rang through the deserted spire. There was only one cookie who it could be; speak of the little devil.
Candy Apple Cookie, Black Sapphire’s adopted sister. She’d been baked not long ago, and only had discarded scraps, old fables and tales about The Great, The Grand, The Glorious: Shadow Milk Cookie. Despite this, Candy Apple had taken a liking to him—maybe too much of a liking to him. Black Sapphire had trained her well, created her well. She was sickly-sweet, like something so chocolate-dense it’s disgusting. She’d probably taste the same, too, Black Sapphire wouldn’t be surprised if she was just sugar.
The short, pale cookie looked up at him mischievously, mismatched socks bunched up and down. The candied apples in her hair—her namesake—bobbled up and down with her short pigtails and many, many bows. She almost resembled a far relative of the unknown instructor, her pale dough more rosy than silver, however. Come to think of it, the similarities ended there. This child was erratic where he had been neat and put together. Her skirt was ruffled, and her clothes were just slightly off, as though they just hadn’t found the exact right place yet. A direct juxtaposition to the perfect cookie that consumed Black Sapphire’s mind.
The little brat was either going to start whining or bragging—that one had… minimal social skills.
“Black Sapphyyyyyy! Can you make me some hot jelly stewwww?” Just as he expected, she was whining.
“Why do you need it now? There’s plenty of other food in the spire, and you know how long it takes.”
“Yeah, but, you make it specialllll.” Black Sapphire sighed. Candy Apple was speaking the way she always did when she was trying to get something: like someone trying to appear cute or a dog trying to convince you of its innocence after it pissed all over your floors.
“My answer is a dead, solid no.” Black Sapphire deadpanned. An unknowing cookie would give into her ploy, but Black Sapphire wasn’t unknowing. He raised the little shit, for witches’ sake!
“Comeeee onnnnn” she whined, giving him more puppy dog eyes. Soon, she narrowed them. “Something’s on your mind. I can smell it. You're never this precise with me."
“I’m not sure what you’re implying with that.” Black Sapphire responded curtly, coattail wings flapping indignantly.
“Look! See, I’ve offended you. Something’s up.” Her eyes narrowed further, scrutinizing him with just her gaze. “This isn’t over, Black Sapphire.”
She backed off after that, but Black Sapphire couldn’t help but be mildly paranoid. In all honesty, he knows that he created a monster—a stubborn, pesky one at that—entirely trained in the art of deceit. And, while both of them were quite fond of each other (though they’d never admit it) Black Sapphire didn’t doubt for a moment that Candy Apple would use her prowess against him. While sugar-coated, the bugs that infested her—that he had infested her with—wouldn’t hesitate to cannibalize him alive. He’d just have to watch his back around her, nothing too bad, nothing peculiar.
These reminders were written on mental sticky notes, ones that had been taken on and off the wall multiple times—barely sticky anymore. Soon, they would flutter to the floor, forgotten as decomposed leaves.
The next day, Black Sapphire decided to travel to the Faerie Kingdom again. He was unsure if he was truly going to be able to again, due to the hidden nature of the kingdom and dense wood surrounding it. Yet, strangely, he would do anything again to meet that cookie.
Internally, he’d justify it as doing his job. Once he gained entry, he would attempt to infiltrate the kingdom with decadent, sweet lies. Rumors could—would—coat the citizens like the clouds coated the Heavens, fast-spreading and heavy. Besides, his Master, his Father, his Creator was trapped in the Faerie Kingdom as well. In the fabled Silver Tree, imprisoned by who was said to be the Witches themselves. Perhaps he could see this tree, and maybe conceive a plan to release Shadow Milk Cookie.
Yet, deep down, he knew that this wasn’t for Shadow Milk. The yearning that clogged his senses, enveloped his mind, it wasn’t for the guardian he once knew. Far from it.
And it was pathetic.
It was the kind of love that would kill you from the inside out. The kind that would infect you with Hanahaki disease as you choked on its petals. How could he even feel so intensely for a cookie, much less one he’d never met? Black Sapphire had never felt this intensely for anycookie, not even Shadow Milk. It was a strange, strange thing.
Endlessly, Black Sapphire wanted to devour that cookie. Ravenge the sweet, soft flesh that made him. Drink the liquid that flowed through his veins, suck his capillaries dry with a constant thirst. Just a taste of that witches-blessed dough would fulfill him, bloat him in a way gorbing on another cookie never could.
Hopefully he will get the chance.
He wasn’t sure if he could live with it, if he couldn’t.