Chapter Text
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Pure Vanilla was an extremely patient cookie. He was known for his benevolence throughout his kingdom; nonetheless, he happened to be one of the very few Alphas who were sweet. Sweet, in the terms of it took all of his resistance possible to restrain himself during ruts.
More common than not, while he was in a rut, he would seclude himself in his rooms, claiming to be ill. Servants would attempt to, well, serve him, and he would practically have to shove the sweet-smelling Omegas away before he pounced.
That, at least, was before he met his other half.
Shadow Milk Cookie truly was... A Beast. At least, it seemed so. He acted like so. The jester was the definition of entropy, and of course, Deceit. He was loud and shameless, teasing Pure Vanilla incessantly. Of course, the events that occurred in the Spire of Deceit... Well, they preferred not to think about that.
Surprisingly enough, Shadow Milk had taken his offer of friendship. Due to his Spire collapsing, Pure Vanilla offered a safe place in Crispia: his own castle, of course. True, there were many changes that came with the Deceit Trio - (because, supposedly, as Candy Apple had shrieked her displeasure upon hearing they were to live in the Vanilla Kingdom; “That place!?! IT’S TOO BRIGHT!”) - including the changes to the castle itself.
There were color schemes and architecture changed – honestly, Pure Vanilla was happy that the castle was no longer in such a state of disrepair that they could not even house architecture. And, of course, the trio was actually living there.
Shadow Milk claimed a room relatively near Pure Vanilla (not in the rooms next to his for some reason), and his minions each claimed a room beside him. Shadow Milk was in the middle of the three rooms, and the Ancient had seen for himself what the room looked like (it was much, much larger on the inside, somehow). Black Sapphire Cookie and Candy Apple Cookie decorated however way they wanted as well.
Their time spent in the kingdom, though, was the most interesting part. Candy Apple still donned her Apple Faerie disguise, quickly getting to know those in the kingdom without them having any disposition about who she really was. Black Sapphire, or rather, Winegrape Faerie, had gained a reputation for housing the juiciest of rumors, and spreading them (of course) throughout the kingdom.
Shadow Milk’s time spent...
Pure Vanilla had expected that when the Beast had agreed to be friends and live with him in the Vanilla kingdom, it would be begrudgingly. That Shadow Milk would avoid him like the plague and constantly torture him (just like the events in the Spire. Neither wanted to talk about them due to being a bit raw, still).
But, proved wrong, Shadow Milk would try to... Spend time with Pure Vanilla. In his own way.
Whether it be sulking as a snake around his neck or hidden in the other realm beneath the Ancient’s robes, Shadow Milk was quite literally... Always there.
Pure Vanilla found himself quite, quite happy. He had a companion who – no offense to his friends, but – could actually spend time with him. The other Ancients all had their own kingdoms and adventures and Beasts.
Pure Vanilla had no time to see them, only for a council meeting about the upcoming war. He missed them dearly, of course, but...
Shadow Milk was unexpectedly great company.
Sometimes he’d point something out in a meeting with Vanilla’s advisors that he’d never realized. Whenever Pure Vanilla would feel in a slump, Shadow Milk could crack a joke and get him laughing...
And, most recently, Shadow Milk has been spending time in Pure Vanilla’s room. Before, Shadow Milk would slip away to his own room and do... Something. Pure Vanilla still isn’t clear on what that ‘something’ is. But, nevertheless, Shadow Milk would float into the Ancient’s room, plop himself on the bed, and chat, or just... Lay there.
It was surprisingly fulfilling.
🌊
However...
Pure Vanilla was beginning to wonder about the Beast. Specifically, his certain... Actions. And a bit of curiosity about what exactly the Beast was. Of course he was not like mere mortal cookies, but... Pure Vanilla had always assumed that the jester was an Alpha. Curiously enough, he could not smell a scent emanating from Shadow Milk. Not even a faint one like a Beta would have, rather no smell at all.
It was jarring for Pure Vanilla, admittedly. The Beast must be using a spell that muffled his scent, but why? Did he not like it? Was it particularly strong?
Questions, questions, questions.
Perhaps... Perhaps he was curious because of Shadow Milk’s demeanor. Often, when Pure Vanilla would sit to sign papers in his room, Shadow Milk would lay on the admittedly soft and plush carpet that was laid by the large windows. Gauzy curtains let gentle sunlight in, and the tweeting of nearby bluebirds. The Beast would plop down, stretch, then promptly fall asleep.
Pure Vanilla supposed it was good that Shadow Milk trusted him enough to rest, unprotected near him, but it was still strange. On more than one occasion, Shadow Milk could be found fast asleep in Pure Vanilla’s own bed; so why the carpet of all places?
The next was the noise. When Shadow Milk would occasionally sleep next to Pure Vanilla in the evenings, (Pure Vanilla often reading a book while Shadow Milk draped himself over the Ancient’s lap), he would hear a strange rumbling noise while the jester slept.
When it first happened, he had shaken Shadow Milk away, worried. It wasn’t a sound he had ever heard coming from the Beast, so what was it? Shadow Milk had half awoken, waving away his concern and then laid on Pure Vanilla’s chest, asleep once more.
It had taken some time for Pure Vanilla to piece it together, but Shadow Milk had been purring. Once, when he brought it up – Shadow Milk hidden in his robes – the Beast scoffed and denied ever making a noise like that. Later that day, ironically, when he had laid on Pure Vanilla’s carpet in the sun, he was purring again.
Pure Vanilla did not bring it up again.
Occasionally, Pure Vanilla would be away from the Beast. When Pure Vanilla was the one to try to find him, sometimes he would be talking to someone – be it Black Sapphire and Candy Apple, or the rare Black Raisin – but Pure Vanilla would creep up behind him and tap his shoulder.
In return, Shadow Milk would almost, quite literally, jump up, terrified at whatever snuck up on him, eyecings large, and his pupils thinned to almost nonexistent slits. He would turn around immediately, his claws bared and ready for anything, but Pure Vanilla would fluster at surprising the jester and unknowingly defuse the situation with large waves of his hands. Shadow Milk would calm down and bite something back that would make Pure Vanilla a little shameful that he snuck up on the Beast.
And – although quite rare – Shadow Milk got horribly... Clingy. Holding onto him with a grip that rivaled that of Dark Cacao Cookie and his sword, Shadow Milk would refuse to let go of Pure Vanilla. His arms would wrap around either his neck or his waist, and he’d bury his face in some soft part of the Ancient.
It was quite cute; Pure Vanilla acknowledged. He never said it to the Beast because he knew if he said that he liked it, Shadow Milk would cease doing it immediately. He liked when Shadow Milk could be soft around him – not the facade of the cruel jester the world knew.
And the last, most crucial thing.
It had been a late night of responding to letters – Shadow Milk curled into a ball on Pure Vanilla’s bed – when Pure Vanilla slipped into bed, book in hand, primed to read till he fell asleep.
But, gazing at Shadow Milk curled in a ball near his feet, and such a contented expression on his face – one of pure pleasure and relief – he could not help it.
He reached a hand out and ran it through Shadow Milk’s inky hair. Gently rubbing his scalp, it elicited a loud rumbling purr from the Beast. Pure Vanilla was used to it now, so he merely continued his ministrations.
When he attempted to remove his hand, Shadow Milk’s ears – pointed and blue of course – flicked up in irritation. Much like...
Pure Vanilla kept his thoughts to himself.
🌊
It had taken some time, but he collected the evidence he needed to confront Shadow Milk. The purring, the clinginess, the flick of his ears, narrowing of his eyes... Yes, he was sure.
It had been nearing about six months since the Deceit Trio now lived in the Vanilla Kingdom. Shadow Milk, as always, had followed Pure Vanilla around like a balloon (hah), and when they eventually made their way to Pure Vanilla’s room, he stopped in front of the door instead of opening it.
“Shadow Milk Cookie.” He started softly.
Shadow Milk, frowning at the change in routine, floats back an inch. It was always bad when Pure Vanilla said his full legal name – not a nickname or just ‘Shadow Milk’. He had to add the cookie part.
“Pure Vanilla Cookie.” The Beast counters, crossing his arms.
“Bluebird,” Pure Vanilla hums. Shadow Milk had no idea where that pet name came from – but he allowed it. For now. “I have something important I need to talk with you about. If you’re too sensitive to the topic, we can go somewhere more private-”
“HAH! Sensitive? I’m not sensitive about anything! Ask away, ‘Nilly! You’re speaking to the Once Fount of Knowledge, y’know~!” Shadow Milk cackles, then, floating, he lays down in midair; legs kicked up behind him.
“Alright, my dear.” Pure Vanilla inhales. “Are you a cat?”
“...” Shadow Milk blinks wide. Wide.
He stares.
He grabs Pure Vanilla’s arm and throws open the door to the room, practically flinging him inside before floating in himself. “Speak.”
Seems that he was sensitive to this. Pure Vanilla swallows a chuckle.
Instead of laughing, he clears his throat and makes his way to the window. The window. “Bluebird, I’ve noticed certain actions you have taken when you are here with me. I either did not see the deeds before you started living here, or I just have seen them and dismissed them,”
Shadow Milk’s eyes narrow, before he floats to sit on the plush carpet. He folds his legs, crisscross, and laces his hands together. “Go on.” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet.
“I have evidence, if you need it. I’ve caught you purring on several occasions, the way your eyecings become nothing more than pinpoints when you’re snuck up on, the occasional clinginess -” Shadow Milk hisses his discomfort. “-and the way your ears flick with your emotions. I never questioned if you were an Alpha; it always seemed like you were – you certainly acted like it. But I can never smell your scent.”
Shadow Milk is silent. He’s normally never silent, usually he would be making noises of any kind. Be it the jingling of bells on his outfit, the constant chatter, the noises he would sometimes make – even his breathing.
But he’s even slowed that down, to the point where its near invisible to Pure Vanilla’s ears.
Perhaps he made a mistake – perhaps he never should have brought this up! Oh, he knew Shadow Milk and knew he would not react well... He should have just stayed quiet and let this affection of Shadow Milk’s grew until he would speak about it himself...
Affection? Was... Was that what this was? This warm, fuzzy feeling Pure Vanilla felt in his chest whenever Shadow Milk spoke to him? Or was near him? Or whenever they cuddled, or when Shadow Milk would be with him every second of the day-
Oh, no. Ohhhhh, no. That’s what this was.
He’s felt this way once in his life – with White Lily Cookie. Though she never reciprocated and he felt perhaps a bit broken afterwards, he’d learned to live with these feelings. Yes, he still loved White Lily Cookie even though she remained a close friend.
But this... With Shadow Milk? Did he like Shadow Milk like that? Was that even alright? He knew of Eternal Sugar (who now lived in the Hollyberry Kingdom) was quite affectionate with Hollyberry Cookie... Perhaps similar in the way Shadow Milk was to him.
Actually, several times when he had met Eternal Sugar Cookie, she proclaimed her undying love to the Ancient of Passion. Hollyberry looked a bit uncomfortable but replied with a gentle reprimand that they would take things slow.
Oh, Witches. He thinks he loves Shadow Milk.
“Pure Vanilla Cookie.”
Hearing his name out of that mouth – that wickedly sinful, cruel thing – snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks up from where he was staring a hole into the carpet, right where Shadow Milk sat. He flushed lightly, realizing it seemed like he was staring at Shadow Milk.
“You sure are a thorough cookie, even if you’re an airhead half the time,” the Beast snorts and leans back on his hands. “Well, sure. In a way, I suppose I am a cat.” He says flippantly, like it's no big deal.
Pure Vanilla, on the other hand, nearly drops his staff. “O-oh. I didn’t think you’d actually admit it.”
Shadow Milk snorts once more and tilts his head. “I’ll let you in on a little secret ‘Nills. When First Mi- AHEM – I mean, the Witches created us Virtues, they based us all on an animal of some sort. Spicey was a centipede – eugh, I still get shivers seeing him in a centipede form – Sweets was based on a butterfly, or moth, duh; Mysty rather a cocoon. Or a spider. One of those two. And Silent Salt... Well, he’s an ant. I was supposedly based on a beetle. I don’t think I show any signs of being a mere insect, do I?”
“No, of course not.” Pure Vanilla replies. He makes his way to the bed and sits down, laying his staff across his lap. Shadow Milk lays down on the carpet, spread out.
“Ding, ding, ding! Correct answer, ‘Nilly! Aaaaaanyways, I didn’t particularly like that we were based on a bug. Neither did Sweets; the others didn’t really care about that. So, Sugar shed her delicate wings and rather took some that resembled a bird. I didn’t know what exactly I wanted. So, I was everything. But I suppose I bonded with a cat the most. I subconsciously adopted actions a cat would make and can’t seem to get rid of it now.”
“Interesting. I don’t suppose you’ll, ah, tell me what you are? I can never scent you.”
“Beta. Then Dark Enchantress Cookie went ahead and fucked that up and made this dough into an Omega. I didn’t particularly care about it then, but now.... Urggghhh... That’s why I muffle my scent. I don’t want a random Alpha – or Omega – to know that THE Beast of Deceit is a sweet, simpering Omega.”
“Oh. Oh my. I always thought you were an Alpha...” Pure Vanilla presses a hand to his mouth, attempting to quell a smile. “I suppose that means you are an Omega, yes?”
“I guess. Why? Happy to be next to another one? Not like you’re an Alpha, idiot.”
“...” Pure Vanilla pauses. Then ends up realizing he never told the jester what he was actually. From the way Pure Vanilla acts, one could easily assume that he was an Omega – he was a naturally sweet cookie after all. A sweet Alpha. Rare, as he mentioned earlier. He lets out a small laugh.
Along with the fact that now he remembers he also dampened his own scent. He – like Shadow Milk – did not want the cookies of his kingdom to be afraid of him. “Oh darling,” Pure Vanilla gives a small coo, releasing his grip on the smell that stifled his scent. Vanilla and cinnamon filled the room; the aroma making its way to the Beast, who sniffs it, and his pupils immediately largen.
“You - You’re an Alpha? But- But most are just assholes. Alpha-holes, rather.” Shadow Milk shifts uncomfortably. Adjusting himself, it seems. The Ancient smiled.
“I am, yes. I would prefer my citizens don’t worry themselves or fear me merely based on how I was baked.”
Shadow Milk – still lost in the smell – seems to release his own grip on his scent. It, in turn, drifts to Pure Vanilla. Blue raspberry that seemed a teensy bit playful. It was an artificial scent, but it made sense that Shadow Milk would exude something like that.
He likes the scent very much.
“Shadow Milk,” Pure Vanilla says chokily. “Your - Your scent.”
Shadow Milk’s head snaps up, before he curses softly. He stands up and makes his way to the door, causing more of that pretty scent to his Pure Vanilla’s senses. He was not in a rut, but he certainly was nearing when he would. “Wait.”
The Beast’s hand stills on the doorknob to the door. “Yes?” He grates out.
“I...” Pure Vanilla swallows. “You’re not near your, ah, heat, are you?”
Silence.
“And if I am?”
...
“I... I would like to not overstep, but... If you went into heat, and I into a rut... Would you like to... Spend it together?” Pure Vanilla says it impulsively, but he means it.
“...” Its Shadow Milk’s turn to be quiet. He turns around, his ears flicked up – God, Pure Vanilla wanted to bite them – which usually meant that he was pissed, or happy.
The latter, it seems. “Yes. Please. I...” Shadow Milk shook his head. “I’ve never really spent one with an Alpha before. BUT! Don’t think this changes anything between us! You are still a fool for continuing your Truth bullshit! But... Fine.”
🌊
Shadow Milk claimed nothing had changed between them, but deep down, Pure Vanilla knew something definitely did. When they had spent their time together – Shadow Milk in heat, Pure Vanilla in a rut – something fundamental definitely changed.
Before, Shadow Milk would bite off snarky responses the Ancient’s questions about his day, but now Shadow Milk would respond half-heartedly. It was better than nothing.
And, alas, when Shadow Milk would spend time in Pure Vanilla’s room, he’d be more... Affectionate. To the point that whenever Pure Vanilla would be sitting at his desk responding to letters or signing bills, and Shadow Milk would float over, plop himself on Pure Vanilla’s lap and nuzzle his neck.
Nuzzle, specifically his scent gland. It seemed that Shadow Milk quite liked his scent – probably to the point of it being unhealthy, but Pure Vanilla also expressed a bit of interest in his own scent glands.
Yes, Pure Vanilla Cookie, Ancient of Truth and Compassion, could now say with utmost certainty that he loved Shadow Milk Cookie, the Beast of Deceit and his other half.
But perhaps spending so much time was not always good. For instance, whereas Shadow Milk would leave Pure Vanilla every night to sleep in his own room, he now remained with Pure Vanilla, sleeping next to him every night. He claimed Pure Vanilla was a great furnace for his “oh-so cold and weary dough” (the healer does admit it could get cold in the castle, with it being above the clouds), so he allowed it.
...
...Alas.
Maybe Shadow Milk remaining in the bathroom while Pure Vanilla took a shower was too much.
The first time it happened, the Ancient had been surprised, but it had escalated into something else fast. Shadow Milk could be in array of moods whenever Pure Vanilla felt he needed to clean his body – angry, pleased, clingy.
That last one was where problems arose.
One night, a night where the jester had been sitting on his lap, nuzzling contentedly against his scent gland, Pure Vanilla had stood up and gently took the hazy-minded Beast and placed him on the bed where the healer would join him after he washed up.
Shadow Milk made a noise of confusion and grabbed Pure Vanilla’s robes, attempting to bring the Alpha back. He whined softly, meaning to the Ancient that he was most definitely out of it.
When Pure Vanilla gently tried to step back, Shadow Milk launched himself forward with a hiss, claws snagging on the Ancient’s robes and clinging tightly. Great, so that meant Shadow Milk was most definitely out of it enough that he relied on his base instincts – akin to a cat’s, of course – and would not let him go.
Sighing, Pure Vanilla let himself be clung to and made his way to the bathroom. He shed his robes, Shadow Milk with them, and the jester fell to the ground with a fwump. Shadow Milk looked up, searching for Pure Vanilla, finding the naked Ancient – a sight Pure Vanilla was quite fine with the Beast seeing (as they had seen each other bare several times, it didn’t matter anymore) - he purred softly and rubbed his cheek against the healer’s scent gland on his thigh.
As Pure Vanilla brushed his teeth, Shadow Milk eventually grew bored and lay down on the rug in front of the shower, content to ambush the Ancient when he last expected it.
Pure Vanilla spit out the bubbly toothpaste, cleaned his mouth and observed his face for any blemishes. None. Good. He turned around and was met with the sight of his other half laid out on the rug, half-asleep.
He smiled and bent down to pet Shadow Milk, running his hands through the liquid Shadow Milk called hair.
When he stood up, he attempted to take a step forward, only for a clawed hand to be laid on his foot. He looked down to see the Beast looking up at him through slitted eyes expectantly. He sighed and bent down to pet Shadow Milk again.
The Beast purred.
He tried to leave. The same thing happened – sharp claws lightly digging into his ankle, demanding more attention. He was forced to pet the jester again.
And again.
And again.
To the point where he lost track of how long he knelt there, naked, petting his other half.
Pure Vanilla had a patience limit, as stated at the very beginning of this all.
He just hit it.
He stood up.
Shadow Milk looked up at him.
Pure Vanilla stared him dead in the eyes.
And proceeded to jump over the Beast into the shower. He quickly turned the showerhead on, a spray of cold water soaking him but keeping Shadow Milk out. Where the Beast tried to reach into the shower, he leapt back with a hiss.
Pure Vanilla had found very quickly, weeks before, Shadow Milk despised water with his whole heart. Due to him being extremely proficient in magic, he could clean himself with the snap of his fingers. Pure Vanilla preferred the old-fashioned route and opted to shower.
So, solution. Shadow Milk left Pure Vanilla alone when he showered under the fear of getting wet.
It was probably because cats hated water, but that was what the healer thought.
He turned the heat up and began to clean himself. Occasionally he would peer outside and saw Shadow Milk glaring daggers at him, lying in wait outside the curtain.
Goodness, he was not going to survive the night, was he?
He turned off the water. Snatched his towel from where it hung. Another perk of taking showers was the fact that Shadow Milk would not dare to touch Pure Vanilla while he was wet. The first time he tried it, it was just like getting wet.
Pure Vanilla stepped out of the shower with the towel wrapped around his waist, letting the rivulets of water that highlighted his body fall to the rug, where it soaked up water. Shadow Milk opted to float, following Pure Vanilla as he walked into his room, eyeing him with such a predatory gaze that made Pure Vanilla question if the Beast really was an Alpha.
But, no, he knew Shadow Milk was an Omega. Had tasted it too.
When he steps into his cold room, he shivers. Shadow Milk remains silent.
He went to the closet and grabbed a simple white dress he used for rest. Could you blame him? They were comfortable.
He toweled off, ever so slowly.
Shadow Milk watched him.
He dropped the towel and put on the dress (and boxers he quietly grabbed).
Shadow Milk watched him.
He turned around.
Shadow Milk pounced.
🌊
The next day, Pure Vanilla was covered in a myriad of bite marks, and needed to take another shower.
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