Chapter Text
It was always the small things that Pure Vanilla noticed, even more than the obvious since the relocation of the beast and his two children following the battle that collapsed the only place that felt safe for him. Shadow Milk, which had at one point tried to take up as much room as possible within a space, had dramatically shrunken in on himself, quietly mumbling and shuffling his feet through the halls. Before, Pure Vanilla doubted he ever slept, now that was what he spent most of his days and nights doing, resting in a bed within a room Pure Vanilla had personally designed for him with his tastes in mind. The walls and floors painted and patterned in dark blues similarly to the black curtains that comforted the space in darkness for the other’s more sensitive eyes.
However, despite his attempts it seemed Shadow Milk still felt far from comfortable in the room because every night, occasionally multiple times a night there would be a gentle, hesitant knocking on his door. And then every night, occasionally multiple times a night, Pure Vanilla would need to drag himself out of bed with the light of his staff to illuminate the soaked garments worn by the beast and the wet puppy pads that covered his bedding. He really had tried to be reasonable, but after a month of wetting, the pads just seemed correct to make the cleaning of his bed swifter, and the beast hardly seemed to mind.
He had tried to ask Shadow Milk about his night terrors, but the other was hardly welcoming to the topic, urging Pure Vanilla to assist him briefly so he could simply go back to bed, and Pure Vanilla was never one to deny a weeping patient. In fact, he was greatly questioning if it was night terrors at all causing this occurrence within his other half. Being the once-formidable beast of deceit, The Creme Republic often required him at meetings. Pure Vanilla would watch him carefully to catch the small details. The frantic movement of his eyes, the uncomfortable squirming of his seat, and finally the glance to Pure Vanilla that informed him of the unfortunate: another accident.
During trips to the marketplace, Shadow Milk would try to rush Pure Vanilla through whatever he was doing so they could get back to the castle so the inevitable could occur behind closed doors. However, if the list was simply too long that day the former beast would relieve himself in his clothes simply in public, trying to hide himself behind Pure Vanilla afterwards, face flushed with embarrassment and coated with tears. For the past two months it had been completely nonstop, and something was clearly going on behind his heterochromic eyes that he just wouldn’t speak about. Pure Vanilla’s patience was severely thin, caring for his kingdom, his other half, and the children of his other half that Shadow Milk didn’t even try to hide his neglectful parenting for. Or moreso, lack of parenting at all.
Which is why on this unfortunate night, when there’s a quiet knocking on his door around four in the morning, Pure Vanilla is determined to get the answers he feels he’s long overdue for.
—
Shadow Milk rested in his bed, the curtains drawn to eliminate even moonlight from observing him while he slept peacefully, laying on his side with his hair wild behind him on the pillow. He had noticed the pressure when he sat down on the edge of the bed, even more so when he awoke about an hour earlier, but he had just laid back down. His eyes open reluctantly as he wakes once more, his thighs firmly crossed beneath the blankets and his bare legs even more tangled, his black shorts gathered around his upper thighs. He can’t help the noise of discomfort, the pain of his bladder being held once again becoming infuriating. He wiggled a bit under the sheets, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to sleep off the need until the morning, as he was terribly unwilling to wake Pure Vanilla so early within the morning.
His squirming only created the sounds of the pads beneath him crunching and crinkling. The Vanilla Kingdom had a few guard hounds scattered around the place, and therefore they had the pads to train the little pups. Pure Vanilla had started putting them on his bed to clean it easier after he wet himself, as he couldn’t help but to do so constantly. The thought of the pads sends a new wave of need over him, his bladder aching for release, to soak the fabric then get comfort from Pure Vanilla, who was never mad, only worried when he sobbed and asked for help. The former king could never have imagined such a sight from his former tormentor back in the spire, and now he had to clean him after accidents.
No, no he wouldn’t wake Pure Vanilla tonight. Shutting his eyes firmly, he committed himself to going back to sleep even while a whine escaped him at the need that just couldn’t be put off like he hoped. His hands went to his crotch, desperately clutching himself while tears collected in the corners of his eyes, sniffling. He really couldn’t wait, the realization known the minute relief is felt, his underwear flooding with warmth as he peed, his hands coming back from his crotch covered and coated in the substance. A few tears escape, spots of dampness making themselves known on his pillow as his thighs continue constricting his flow, stopping it momentarily. He can feel the complete wetness of the front of his underwear and shorts, collecting on the pads beneath him in warmth and comfort. Relief felt too wonderful to deny any longer, his hiccups and choked sobs just irritating his bladder with every jolt of his thin body.
He slowly untangles his legs, feeling his stream begin again, steadily soaking throughout the fabric of his crotch and getting caught up into the puppy pads. Even while hiccuping, he couldn’t help the sigh of relief, feeling the tension leak out of his shoulders as every second passed of complete liquid bliss. Another shaky sigh escapes him once he finally finishes, savoring the warmth and comfort that surrounded him while placing one of his dirtied clawed hands over his lower abdomen, feeling that the bulge from his full bladder had dissipated back into the concave stomach he knew. He closes his eyes once more, about to return to sleep when the warmth begins receding. With pleasure complete, now he can only think of the wetness, how sticky his legs felt when they met and how his shorts and underwear clung to his body, how he was in that position, even as he tried to move to become comfortable again.
Pure Vanilla would probably dislike him sleeping like this.
Pure.. Vanilla..
He had meant to hold it so as to not wake the other up. He had completely and entirely failed. The realization sets in much too quickly, faster than it took for his bladder to empty onto his protected bed. He had failed Pure Vanilla. Again. The hiccups from just moments before started up again with ease, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he came to terms with the fact he would need to exit his room, walk down the dark and cool hallway while he dripped urine onto the fine carpets, to knock on Pure Vanilla’s door to wait to be cleaned. Tears return to his eyes, soft cries escaping him as he buried his face into his pillow, sobbing in defeat.
Why was this so difficult?
With a sob, he lifts from his pillow with considerable difficulty, leaning on a single arm for a moment while he tries to wipe the pathetic tears from his face, only springing more to race down his cheeks. He eases himself off the bed gently, feeling the full weight of his soaked clothes as they continue clinging to his cool skin on one side, his thighs feeling sticky when they brush against one another on his way to the door, the cold metal turning slowly under his claws. The hallway is considerably colder than his room, as Pure Vanilla was aware his jam ran cold and tried his best to position Shadow Milk in one of the warmer rooms of the castle. Unfortunately, this just makes him all the more aware of his bladder once again. Apparently he hadn’t finished when he thought.
He walks slowly through the hall, his soaked clothes dripping audibly onto the carpet below him, making his bladder twinge once more with desire. He could already feel the pressing of his soaked clothes onto his form, cold and with an unpleasant smell he was trying to ignore. Would Pure Vanilla be able to tell the difference between the accident that occurred in his bed and the accident that occurred in the hall? He pauses briefly, the constant sound of dripping driving him insane. He can’t help the small whine that escapes him in feeling such an unpleasant need once again, but the hallway was quiet, nobody was around to witness himself emptying intentionally this time, right?
Still paused where he stood, he shifted around slightly before warmth surged to life once more between his plush thighs, sighing with bliss as the cold wetness of his crotch was made warm and comfortable once more. Unfortunately, he slightly misjudged how much was truly left in his bladder, as he expected to dribble slightly into his clothes, but was feeling his stream race down the inside of his legs. Wetness collected around his feet as he truly peed himself a second time in the hallway, creating a small puddle of shame on the soft carpet. Somebody would be sure to notice that, he thought briefly, though he could find some comfort in the thought it would be later when he wasn’t around.
Surely.. nobody could be currently watching him..
Shadow Milk sighed with half-lidded eyes, looking around briefly to notice a sound he hadn’t heard over his own hissing and dripping: the sound of the laundry cart.
His mind fills with panic, choking on his own gasp as he frantically tries to register where the cart was coming from, his bliss from just seconds before clouding his mind. When the noise gathers behind him, he simply puts his head down and keeps walking forward. The hallway was dark, and the act of walking was creating a very uncomfortable friction between his legs and the rapidly cooling and recently resoaked clothing he wore. Tears escaped their way down his face as he tried his best to choke back his sobs. He could hear the vanillin pulling the cart pause a little after passing his door, no doubt noticing the considerable dark circle in the carpet he had left. When they continued again, they continued walking faster than him. He failed to choke back a sob, snot running down his face as they passed him by. She turned around briefly, giving him a look he could only describe as disgust at a prescription one was forced to take, or moreso, a person one was forced to clean up after. She gave a dissatisfied huff, shaking her head side to side as she disappeared at the corner, going to bring the clean laundry to its destination before returning for the clothes he wore, still dripping occasionally down his legs.
Shame ate at the sensitive organs under his ribs strongly, pausing as he didn’t need to round the corner, finding himself in front of Pure Vanilla’s room just at the other end of the hall. His chest heaved as he tried to hold back his sobs, his arm shaking as it brought his knuckles to knock on the door.
—
“Coming!” Pure Vanilla calls softly, mindful to those who may still be asleep. He knows exactly who is behind the door, taking his staff from the bedside as he got out of bed himself and walked around it to the door, opening it slowly and allowing his flower to illuminate the scene. Shadow Milk stood in his doorway dripping with shame, his head low as tears felt freely and frequently.
“Oh, honey, do you need some help again?” He asked softly, though he knew the answer. This happened every night. The question simply opened the floodgates for the other, who lost himself into sobs and buried his flushed face in the other’s chest, no doubt smearing snot across his clothes as well. Pure Vanilla wraps an arm around the other’s back, rubbing circles into the shirt he wore as Shadow Milk continued hiccuping and sobbing into him.
“Let’s go clean up, yeah?” He asks softly. Pure Vanilla was aware that the other experienced age regression, and in moments like this, where Shadow Milk was feeling especially vulnerable, he was also likely feeling especially small. Simple words spoken quietly and gently were best received in these moments, as evidence of the nonverbal agreement in the form of a nod he received against his chest.
“Alright, show me.” He said, gently taking his arm away to follow the other. Shadow Milk shuffled with him, his shame growing more present until the cause was found when he pointed with a single claw. “Oh,” is all Pure Vanilla can say at the additional mess. Shadow Milk had never soaked two locations in a single night before, usually just his bed. “It’s okay, it’ll get cleaned up.” He assured Shadow Milk, finally entering the bedroom with the other. Pure Vanilla opened the curtains and pulled back the blankets to place his staff well and observe the scene. One of the pads had been soaked entirely while the other had only received a few spots, their white bases discolored like a spill of tea.
“Alright, it’s an easy fix, don’t worry.” He said with an easy smile at the other, trying not to let a slip in patience. He just walked to a drawer in Shadow Milk’s room that he used to keep spare pads and cleaning supplies. The ones that littered the bed had a white base dotted with baby blue polka dots. Not having any more of the same kind, he selected two replacements that contained a white base and navy blue stars. It’s a simple task of switching them out, the real task was cleaning Shadow Milk himself.
“Okay, bath time, love.” He said softly, opening the door to the bathroom connected to Shadow Milk’s own room. This was why Pure Vanilla was so flabbergasted at the constant accidents. The bathroom was easier access than Pure Vanilla himself, yet Shadow Milk always went to receive the latter. Shadow Milk shuffled over, standing on a towel placed by Pure Vanilla while the former king slowly and gently lowered Shadow Milk’s shorts and underwear from his waist before lifting his sleep shirt over his head. The bath run was warm, without fragrance or much excitement as to just do its bare minimum.
He helped the other in slowly, aware of his difficulties with mobility, and just sat nearby to let the other soak, sniffles having died down. “Honey, can you please tell me why you don’t use this bathroom? What about it makes you not want to use it at night when you need to go?” He asked softly, wanting a genuine answer so this can end.
Shadow Milk turned in the bath, avoiding looking at him or in his direction.
“Shadow Milk, this is not a rhetorical question I’m afraid, I want to know how to help you so that we can both sleep better.” He tried again, a little more stern. The beast finally turned to look in his direction, meanwhile avoiding looking anywhere near his eyes.
“I- I don’t really know how.”
“Excuse me?” Pure Vanilla asked, believing he was mishearing the other.
“I- I never had needs before. Before the tree, before my defeat..” He’s becoming choked up. “The souljam kept me from needing anything but now I just.. suddenly need.” He looks down at the water, shame still crawling up the vertebrae of his spine.
“It’s not too difficult, I’m sure I could help you adapt. After your bath, why don’t you come back to sleep with me in my room? Just wake me up whenever you need and I’ll help you from there! You’ll be a natural in no time.” Pure Vanilla is still trying to remain as patient as possible, as he himself doesn’t see how there could be so much difficulty even after two months, but clearly there is, so something isn’t adding up. He would just have to help even more than before.
All those little things he had been noticing, he would no longer wish for Shadow Milk to do the correct thing, instead he’ll have to step in and guide him.
Hopefully it can’t be any more difficult than training a puppy.