Archive of Our Own

The castle walls of the spire were... shadowlike, in nature. Made it rather hard to navigate at times. 

Vanilla had been slowly learning how to do the basics of walking around since deciding to stay, learning a few tricks with running his hands along the walls in order to keep himself steady. His staff had many quirks in the area in response to the magic scars the area still had sunk within, making the ground almost soggy with the resulting overflow that soured plantlike in some parts. It made many things struggle to work, and simple machines seemed to forget their purpose when placed in the harsher effected locations. 

Sure, vanilla hadn’t expected his staff to be the victim of this, but it was undeniably being more and more unusable in the relative calm of what was left of the spire. 

When Pure Vanilla had entered his awakened form, he’d offered to help Shadow Milk cookie change for the better. Become the person he was meant to be, as one could say. It enraged Shadow milk at the time, but Vanilla’s stubbornness allowed a kind of... compromise between them. A challenge, even after it was all over. 

Vanilla would not be swayed away from the light of truth again. Shadow milk would not accept that change was something in both his hands and his nature, a virtue every living being held if they were willing to accept that kindness had less to due with what people wanted to hear and more to do with people wanting to experience life together. 

It left room for a deal of simple nature: If Vanilla stayed and accepted that Shadow Milk might not change, Shadow Milk would allow Vanilla to stay and help rebuild the spire into something that could help cookies instead of hurt them. ...There was an entire well of magic to be sourced from here afterall, and what was the point of a library grander than any other if the only people who could read from it were the minions of shadow milk who seemed unwilling to spend their time that way. 

...Vanilla wanted Shadow Milk to change. He wanted his other half to get the chance to become something grander than the shallow fate he’d defined himself to out in this crumbling spire, to no longer be the wizard of grand knowledge locked within their tower by the endless bookcases he’d buried himself in. He deserved better, anyone deserved better than that. 

So, Vanilla learned to walk even when his staff claimed there was a wall in the middle of the pathway, and began getting used to how despite the magic making it a place corrupted to the bone being rid of it still knew on a fundamental level to lie about where his room was everytime he was too tired to remember the directions by heart. 

He wondered if the chuckling he heard on those nights was the carpets or the host of the house. 

A hand runs gently along the hallway wall, learning the little divots that graced where the filigree that lined the corners of the hallways sat. Despite a long wallway appearing before pure vanilla he turned into something that appeared to be a wall, phasing through it instead of walking into the false hallway he knew would just be another real wall. His hands trace the carefully decorated filigree to sense for the changes and weaving, knowing that the gentle creation made within the tower’s decorum was made with the humble honoring of truth that predated the reassignment of the souljam. It was delicate wire made things, paint brushed on with paintbrushes and wallpaper placed on by hands that didn’t know decoration but did know how to honor someone they viewed as perfect. It was careful, and detailed, but never mastery. ...It was an odd thing to think about, but it was something he meditated on when walking through the looping hallways.

A cough hit Vanilla’s lungs, making him half pause as he moved the tracing hand to his mouth to avoid spreading little droplets of syrup into the air as he hacked in a way that he didn’t normally do. His hand pulled back confusedly, looking at the bit of white nonsense they’d coughed up. It was a thin mess of petals, bruised too much to see the shape. ...Had he swallowed a bit of the flowers on his staff? He would be horrified if he had. He reached up to gently pet at the poor thing, worried for it as he considered the small amount of ache in his chest. ...He needed to ask someone with slightly betters eyes to check if he was well, he felt like he had a pocket of unmixed flour in his chest somehow. 

His hand returned to the filigree to trace along, looking for a quick path to at least one person who knew what in the spire was true. ...Or atleast what wasn’t a lie. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The library was somehow completely wrecked again. You would think that Candy Apple being next to illiterate from her unwillingness to learn from the books there would spare it from her wrath, but one would find that fitfully untrue! 

Candy Apple had been taking the survival rebrand hard. She would follow him no matter what, but there was only so much you could change from your original motivation before the people under you would begin wondering. She was loyal to him and his interests, but when things get dicey it is very easy to convince oneself that the best thing for someone was to push them off a new path. 

She was his freedom incarnate, the sign of his first step to his fall. She knew him in a way that only something made by your own hands could, had watched him change into the person that he had always been scared to be. ...And she was now convinced that since he was letting Vanilla stay without turning him into some kind of puppet he could rip apart that he was being manipulated. He felt for her, he knew how skittish she could be at times. ...He wanted her to be happy, if only just because it reflected his own potential happiness. She was an incarnation of who he had become, and watching her sob made him worried in ways one could only compare to seeing your own tears in the mirror. 

Didn’t mean the little shit was putting the books back on the shelf herself. 

Really ? The library of all things to wreck? He could let the gardens go messed with and he would be fine if she wrecked his rooms since they were easy to fix after her many, many tantrums over the years but-

...But that was the point, wasn’t it? To do something she normally wouldn’t, to cry out in distress about how this wasn’t okay . To damage something she normally knew better than to force Shadow Milk to stare at so he’d be forced to remember why he did all of this to start with. 

How many years had he wasted pouring over these books, quill in hand, asking himself every  question about the paper and the ink and the manufactures and who made the machines those manufactures used in order to satiate his boredom cataloging everything to ever know. It had been mind numbing . 

It was reason number one thousand and fifteen to completely ignore Nilla’s ideas of what he could become. Reason ten thousand he didn’t need to know everything anymore, because what the hell was the point of knowing everything if you became delegated to being a mouthpiece instead of doing anything with the information. 

He knew all the ways his talent had been wasted. He’d written it down in a novel. They’d called it a work of art and stacked it into another pile of works of art and asked him to draw more gears for machines he’d thought of to solve problems that wouldn’t exist if the people who listened to him understood the basics of what he could do with his abilities. 

Shadow Milk was sick of staring at works of art, wondering where on the shelves it went. ...He wished he didn’t get the urge to dust them, he knew too damn well they’d been dusty long before the keepers of his libraries left. 

A door clicked open as he began floating to place an armful onto a higher shelf sloppily, ignoring the fanciful organization that aligned the gilding properly in favor of not having to give as much of his precious little care on the books. Years of his life were spilled on the floor, amounting to perhaps half of a good reason to invent a way of going back in time if just to wipe the floor yet again with those who used him for something so... simple. 

He was close to a biting remark about an apology for the mess when the slight squeak of a staff against the floor sounded, making the rustle of cloth all the clearer as soft hands audibly ran along the textured paint of the room. 

Shadow milk stayed above the floor, watching the staff search about in sweeps like a seeing eye cane as Vanilla considered both the real world and the parts that Shadow Milk left of minor illusion spells. He floated leftward soundlessly to settle his feet just to Vanilla’s left, leaning to speak directly into the cookie’s ear without letting the cane sight him, “Hello there!”

Vanilla didn’t jump as a small smile grew on his lips, turning to Shadow Milk like him raising the hairs on his neck was the same as seeing him from a half mile away, “Shadow Milk Cookie! Hello! I was just looking for you.”

A grumble rolled off of shadow milk as he resumed his floating, tilting his head parallel to the floor in some final attempt to play with Vanilla’s sight, “ Oh of course you are . Since you have so many interesting new things to show me and all. Let me guess, I’m suddenly very interested in learning about the meaning of value through the power of meditation over worthfulness?”

‘Nilla smiles more, gently, “If you wish to be. I come seeking advice from you, if you have the time. “

The jester floats to keep his head level with the cookie as he arcs his legs towards the ceiling, preparing to go upside down and over vanilla in his orbit, “Oh? Information from me ? An interesting choice! Why, are you looking for a lie, a fib, or a harmless little misdirection? Maybe hoping to get some comforting distruthes? A bit of gilded honesty? Or did you seriously think I was going to suddenly become a fountain of information for you to tap and spread, hm?”

The gold decorated cookie didn’t change expressions throughout his taunting, “I was hoping to borrow another set of eyes, actually. Mine seem to be the issue. Could you see if there are petals missing on my staff? I'm afraid it’s sight cannot see the back of it. I’m worried I injured it somehow, I found some white petals broken earlier and I fear that the beholder that it mimics is somehow crushed slightly.”

...Ah.

The Deceit floated over to the staff, watching it look nervously at Shadow Milk before opening to allow for inspection. He glanced over the undamaged beholder humming, turning over in his mind if denying something Vanilla truely had no way of discoerving as a falsity would be worthwhile. ...Perhaps phrase it suspiciously?

“It looks... alright ! The poor, neglected thing... I think it’ll be alright!” There, perfect. 

Vanilla looked panicked feeling over the beholder, always quick to crumble at the idea of having hurt something when it was preventable. Still mentally tending to lambs that didn’t know blackberries from nightshade, huh? Careful hands ran along petals before abandoning the quest to retrieve an object from his pocket, holding out some injured flower petals for Shadow Milk to inspect, “Do these look like the same as the ones on it?”

...Interesting developments, indeed. The petal he pulled out did look like the Waffle Vines the Vanilla Beholders were shaped to imitate, with the trumpet shape and the curve of the petals- No, no. This had five petals. Besides, the stamen were all wrong. The Waffle Vines had a white interior that fed small jelly creatures, this was the same color throughout despite having been crushed. It wasn’t the same as the Waffle vines at all, and much too small of petals to be in the same genus as the Beholders. 

Shadow Milk floated mindlessly to grab from an empty bookshelf, kicking the empty air fruitlessly as he floated down instead to rustle through the pile of books that were meant to be on the botany shelf for the ones on simple fruit plants in the second half of the kingdom when sorted alphabetically. It was a hefty thing only similar to the first edition, one that he spent far too many nights pouring over. He flipped through with the knowledge of chief author to the pages of petal counts, running a hand along while matching the stamen quality to the petal quantity to the color. 

The table lured him to a page that he squinted at, humming over while Vanilla began to speak, “I don’t fully know when it would have happened, I can only imagine that I somehow crushed it against something. I thought it would be stronger than that, but one learns only through mistake I suppose. Not the worst crime to commit without thinking, but I can’t help but wish I could have avoided it’s injury...”

Thornapple. Also known as Devil’s Trumpet. Medicinally used to gently alter one’s mind but slowly kills the user if too much is consumed at once. Used in salads but not in baked goods, known in flower encoding for... deceitful charms . Oh, Vanilla, you shouldn’t have . 

It was something too good to keep up the ruse about the beholder for, making Shadow Milk muse as they turned to the other Cookie, “Tell me, Vanilla, where exactly you found this...?”

A slight flush overtook the crumb of Vanilla’s face, “Ah, well... it’s a rather odd way of stumbling across it. But... I did... cough it up.”

Hm. “Cough it up? Nilly! You can’t go around eating the garden out! You know more manners than that , don’t you?” 

Vanilla turned away as he talked, “Well, that's the strange thing. It seemed to come up around when I felt a clump within my chest- I’m considering later checking if a bubble of dry mix has surfaced somehow. The timing makes me wonder about the origin of the flower though, I do worry for the state of my jam if that managed to get lodged inside.”

A lump of dry mix within the dough? That was more the kind of thing that would have risen out while still warm when young- no, no. This was a descriptor, not a diagnostic. A feeling like dry mix added to the desire to seek out poisonous flowers-

...Or the spontaneous creation of poisonous flowers. “...Pure Vanilla...” the Ancient whips his head around, unused to Shadow Milk using his full name, “...You didn’t tell me you had a Crush! ”

Vanilla opened and closed his eyes to blink at him, “Because I do not.”

Grinning like a highschool girl Shadowmilk lowered himself to Vanilla’s level to kick his feet in the air and continue his ramble, “Oh, don’t be shy Nilly! Who is it? What do you like about them? Come on, you can’t lie to The Truth Nilla! Who is making you so ‘decietfully charmed’!”

The eyes on Vanilla’s staff flicker in confusion as Vanilla observes Shadow Milk’s new act, “I wasn’t aware that I had something to be hiding from the truth. ‘Decietfully charmed’?”

Shadow milk flips himself in the air, imitating the motion of rolling onto his back to check his nails, “It’s a ‘Thornapple’! They stand for ‘Deceitful charms’! You have a condition called Hanahaki- It basically makes you get really obsessed with someone until you literally start puking up gross nonsense about how much you’re obsessed with them! So, tell me everything ! Who is it? I want to hear it all ! Who has you so charmed? ”

The ancient tilts his head curiously, “...Interesting. I do not believe I am in love with anyone at the moment, or at least not anyone new. If I was in love with someone, it would have been many years since I have seen them. I have little on that topic I’d be focused on talking about, so I’m afraid I don’t know who this ‘obsession’ would be centered around. ..I was unaware I was being charmed.”

Shadow Milk rolls this on his tongue, trying to sense if this was something said out of fear of the truth or something said without the knowledge of what the truth was, “...Such an interesting claim! Care to explain the flower then?”

Vanilla’s lashes gave half a bat before settling to rest again, “Well... I was sleeping on the lawn earlier.”

He floated upwards to stare at Vanilla, “These don’t grow on the lawn! These don’t even grow on this side of Earthbread! They’re entirely unfindable unless someone transplanted them across all this way, or someone’s jam was growing them! So, who do you suddenly care about the facial features of? Hm? Who suddenly seemed a lot funnier than they did a few weeks ago?”

Vanilla does stop and consider, but gives no interesting reply, “I wouldn’t know. I haven't’ felt anything for anyone recently.”

Shadow Milk flops himself onto the floor, “Nothing? About anyone?”

Pure Vanilla hums, thinking, “Only platonic things. I suppose there are people I’ve grown closer to recently, and suddenly have a strong desire to gain a stronger bond with. However that is platonic entirely, and I feel little need to date the person. I would say that since leaving the party on their quest, that has been my only ‘close bond’ I’ve been drawn tightly to. I wouldn’t say that's anything that would count.”

Ahhh, this was coming together then. The little squad weren’t the type to turn Vanilla to deceit, but they weren’t pure of heart enough to be entirely avoiding some small lies. Perhaps one of them had charmed over Vanilla when they desired more from him. Perhaps some power, perhaps some romantic intrigue. It was a waste of Vanilla’s abilities and personality to spend it doing whatever Gingerbrave was up to, and even more of a waste to have him play housewife to some random adventurer. 

No, he was worth more than that. He had a special connection to a power Shadow Milk knew well- A special connection to Shadow Milk as well. He didn’t need to be used for such a small thing. However, Vanilla didn’t even seem to have noticed the vine digging in while planting the flowers. ‘Deceitful charm.’ He knew on some level that whoever was winning his heart was only doing so with kind words and little else, then. 

The condition could spread through platonic feelings if they were strong enough- It was a form that was sometimes called hana-yūjin, though that was a butchering of the actual meaning of the origin of the condition. It was a thing he didn’t include in his research due to the... mindless nature of the renaming and the lack of usage. Which was to say, it was possible. However, a more interesting question lay before him.

Did Vanilla need to know that ? If the feelings were strong enough that just the desire to befriend the person was what he was clinging to his chest in thorns they must be more than just a simple platonicism, but would Vanilla need to reveal such a thing if the end goal of the discovery was just a self admission of self betterance? Whoever this was for clearly didn’t have his best intentions at heart, so there was little point in entertaining a purely medicinal treatment for it. No, this needed a delicate guiding hand. 

Shadow Milk looked away, feigning irritation, “How boring . In that case, I guess it has to be the second most likely cause, ” Vanilla tilts his head, looking at Shadow Milk through the staff as the jester flips about while talking, “You’ve begun the growing flowers stage of accepting your soul jam.”

Vanilla’s staff opens it’s eye wider at this, watching Shadow Milk pull a thick encyclopedia from the pile of books, “Page 262, third entry. It will explain all you need to know. Now leave me be, I need to finish putting all these books into- The most interesting shapes I can.”

He turns away from Vanilla and plays at arranging them meaninglessly as the ruffling of Vanilla’s coat excuses Vanilla leaving the room, staring at the book with blind eyes while his staff leads him away. Shadow Milk mourns having eyes everywhere in the spire, wishing he could see Vanilla as he left. He would enjoy the entry he was pointing to, surely. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Page 262, entry three. “Gullible- Easily deceived or duped; naive, easily cheated or fooled. 

Synonyms: fleeceable, green, naif, naive; Andrew is so gullible, the way he still believes in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the Sandman at the age of fourteen. ”

How rude. 

This left them still wondering what the root cause of this could be. Had he fallen for anyone recently? Pure Vanilla was usually quite good at finding the source of his feelings, but had he- No, no he’d ruled the possibility out. 

He only felt purely platonic things for Shadow Milk, even if he did want to stay by his side for as long as he could. There was a connection between them that couldn’t be explained in simple terms, something to be dissected by words Vanilla had little time to find in his travels. He wanted to be by his side through it all, wanted to learn every of his favorite things out of a firm belief that they would rapidly become his own favorite things. ...He felt the loneliness Shadow Milk’s very soul ached of as a failure on his own part, somehow, and he wished to right the wrong by standing vigil at his side as his closest companion. 

...It wasn’t truly a desire of friendship either, but calling it romantic would be a mistranslation beyond meaning. 

It wasn’t something Pure Vanilla felt often, but it was a bond he felt strongly when he did. Rarely did he feel the need to date, focusing on a purpose that always seemed to drive him So when he did feel the pulse to stay by someone and learn life through their adorations and joys he savored it like some savored the more common companionship. He had settled to accept that his way of caring for others would never be normal, but he rarely was given such an honorary thing in his average life. 

He was grateful for every blessing we was given, if not sometimes worn down by the lack of normality of it all. They rarely made slippers that protected one from fine marble flooring, though he was too meek to ask for something when he was so lucky to have such finery. 

Regardless, he knew himself well enough to know that Shadow Milk, regardless of comedic distraction, couldn’t be the source of this. It was his brand by far with the flower type, but far off from the correct origin. He would need to consider other options for where the flower came from, or begin wondering about his very scarce considerations of love from before he went on this mission. 

‘Deceitful Charm’. ...It was something he didn’t consider a positive trait, in most. It would be more a warning he would give, a sign that something was being portrayed as soft or sweet or good when it was being clear otherwise that it was none of those things. And yet... the term almost gained a softness to it here. Where the shadows seemed alive and ready to jump at him, but just as soft to lounge in and enjoy the company of. ...Perhaps it was a charm done to deceive someone away out of worry? Or a belief that things were different than they were? 

...He couldn’t apply his current affairs to old ones. No, he needed time to ponder this. ...And time to triple check if he had used the right entry in the encyclopedia. Page 262, entry three- somehow it was ruder the second time.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been over a week now since the gentle arising of the petals came. The little flowers spilled from his mouth, only once holding enough of the plant for him to cough on the remaining stick that had emerged with it. It was becoming more painful, but not enough so that he was particularly worried. His considerations that this was some kind of lawn plant were fully removed, so he was left wondering who exactly was the origin of the feeling that seemed to be holding him in such pain. 

His hands traced the filigree as he made his way towards the pulsing un-seeingness that seemed to follow Shadow Milk, following his permanent blind spot until he was near enough that the very structure of the building was becoming strangers in his sight. 

A touch of shoe to floor sounded beside him, and he did his best to not smile before the reveal so the game wasn’t spoiled, “Hi Nilly!”

He turned, not needing to see to know there was a pout from his refusal to jump for his amusement, “Hello, Shadow Milk Cookie. How are you this morning?”

The Jester gives an unamused noise, floating into the air like a housecat given too much control over gravity, “I’m bored . Anything interesting yet, Nilly?”

Pure Vanilla moves his staff about, scanning the area for a free chair to sit within Shadow Milk’s quarters- Ah, he really should have knocked, “I’ve come requesting use of your eyes again- this time minus the interesting usage of the encyclopedia.”

Shadow Milk spins in the air, performing many a complex gymnastic maneuver, “Oh? Was the homework I assigned not efficient enough to explain the highly complex stage of acclimation to you?”

Pure Vanilla smiles up at him, “I’m afraid it was a bit difficult linguistically for me. I did settle for looking at the ceiling for the term instead, despite my usual scholarly tendencies.”

It pulled a snicker out of Shadow Milk, “How simplistic of a source to use! Surely you could have found a more interesting one?”

He turned to point his staff back towards Shadow Milk, holding back a chuckle from seeing him draped over thin air, “I suppose the various texts I had on hand could have been useful, but I decided that given the subject matter following more traditional discovery patterns would give more context. I hear there's a lovely new method that’s been popular among children learning the concept where you rub an eraser on your hand instead, perhaps I should remember the intelligence of the youth next time you recommend the topic to me.”

The floating cat lowered itself further, forcing Vanilla to turn his staff to his own face to see him, “Oh, Nilly , be kinder to yourself next time! I’d consider you a leader in the study of the topic. I’d go as far as to say you’re the most educated on experiencing the condition.”

Pure Vanilla sees himself give the motion behind the suppressed chuckle, “I suppose I cannot politely deny such praise for this, I shall keep this in mind when we are discussing the subject in the future.” 

Shadow milk gives him room to breathe after his silly commentary, lounging back as if on an armchair, “Given your scholarly pursuits of the topics I’ve already assigned, what do you need use of my eyes for?”

The lighter colored half moves to begin taking off his jacket, making a soft ‘come forward’ motion with his hand, “I was hoping you could look at my neck for a moment, if possible. I feel like one of the blossoms is stuck somehow and I’d like you to see if it’s just the sensation caused by the presence of it or a kind of physical obstruction before I attempt to eat. I’d check for myself, but to my knowledge your ability to ‘see through’ things is slightly physical, yes?”

Pure Vanilla places his staff at the right angle to keep himself and the room in front of him in view as he finishes removing his coat, placing it delicately on the chair in hopes the offer would be accepted. Shadow Milk floats to approach him, glancing at the location and direction of his line of sight before examining the area carefully. Vanilla is surprised to see Shadow Milk move to check for damages without comment enough that it shows on his face, seeing Shadow Milk react to the slight flicker his eyelashes give at the movement. 

A blue hand presses against his neck, humming as it looked through the dough. The moment is somewhere between affectionate and medical, feeling half like a check up and half like the kind of thinking movement you do while braiding someone’s hair, “...There's definitely a blockage, but the flowers are piled oddly.” Shadow Milk pulls at Vanilla’s shirt collar, peering at the crumb of his chest instead, “...There are seed pods forming in your upper torso.”

“...Seed pods?” His eyes flutter open to look down, unseeing but used to following the eyes of others in the action. He can tell through his sight that he’s likely not actually looking in the right spot, but his pupils were vague enough that he doubted Shadow Milk Cookie would notice.

His other half turns to look into his eyes despite them not truely returning the focus, “What the plant is named for. ‘Thornapple’. They’re known for their throned seed pods that contain poisonous seeds, they cause lightheadedness and other... medicinally used symptoms. Ideally you would have found the origin of the Hanahaki before it got to this stage, but it’s not going to be the death of anything if it has to be resolved after they formed. Just means it’s going to become more painful as time passes.” the cookie floats away from Pure Vanilla, giving him room to reapply his coat. The other floats just out of range of his staff’s sight as he fixes his shoulders to the correct positioning of his usual coverup, “As long as you find what you’re keeping from whoever this is targeted at you should be fine. There can be complications from the pods needing to be removed, but the overall risk from the condition has little to do with the plant growth itself, it has to do with the risk of subvarients being created and poisoning other areas of the crumb. As long as it’s a single type of Hanahaki, the worst that will happen is you needing the vines snipped from your mouth.”

Vanilla stands and nods, moving the chair he was sitting in back to a proper position for the desk nearby, “Would the seed pods not be a risk of injury?”

Shadow Vanilla gives a mild ‘eh’ into the air, “Not unless you’re using your chest over and over again for something! Just don’t breathe, Nilly! It’s not like we need air!”

He stands and hums, about to make some comment about how this simple solution should have been determined through his new scholarly title bestowed upon him minutes prior when his sight is stolen from him, his staff being whipped around while his body stayed still. The sight of blue coat tails turning and twisting in acrobatic poses makes Vanilla aware of the temporary fate of his sight as he attempts to look towards Shadow Milk based on sound. 

His vision straightens after a flip he assumes is the tossing of the cane and not the tossing of the jester, pointing his sight towards the floor, “Have you found out who your secret crush is yet?”

Vanilla hope he’s giving an annoyed look in the correct direction, “Unfortunately no, I can’t think of anyone I would feel strong enough feelings for that would warrant something so... different from how I normally feel things.”

“Oh?” Shadow Milk’s voice rings, from a different part of the room, “You would think you would know that you’re hiding something from someone. Only the worst liars forget that they’re lying!” Oh, they were playing this game. 

Pure Vanilla closed his eyes and felt for Shadow Milk’s presence, avoiding using his hearing either as he directed his ‘line of sight’, “I was unaware that being in love was a form of lying to people. Does his condition only afflict those in love who don’t know the source, or does it have some other specificity?”

The staff flipping noise stops, the voice seemingly comes from right behind Vanilla’s ear, “The only requirement is that you are in love in some manner with the target, and some nature of the love is causing you to hide something from the person. You’re holding some grand secret from them or yourself, and it’s growing in your chest like a weed in a lawn. You either need to reveal the secret to the target or yourself, or fall out of love with the person so the emotions behind the secret is weakened and no longer a danger to your crumb!”

Vanilla hums, “Interesting. ...I don’t know who would begin to qualify towards that.”

A hand smoothes against Pure Vanilla’s, placing the handle of his staff back into his hands, “Perhaps you’re lying to yourself then?”

It’s a smooth motion to twist his sight to see Shadow Milk smiling at him, “Perhaps.”

Pure Vanilla turns his staff to leave the room, guiding himself to where the archway was appearing to be, “I’ll see if I can clear my mind some more.” His chest aches as he leaves, but it’s assuredly harmless. ...Something in his hands feels shaky leaving the room, like a forcefield of calm around the situation was leaving him as he left. He shouldn’t trust Shadow Milk too much on this, given his lacking motivation to change yet. ...He was still a force of comfort against the ache despite that, so perhaps he was still a good source. 

...Perhaps at this rate he was the chief source. Fool me twice, might as well grab an eraser...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shadow Milk had been... tolerating the situation as it was for too long. No, this had gotten out of hand. How had it turned like this at this speed. 

Vanilla was yet again sitting in a chair being examined for the spread of the root, coughing quietly as Shadow Milk pondered yet again about the choices he had before him. Tell him, or keep it a secret and let the situation pass without comment. 

The situation was not going to pass peacefully, “Vanilla. I’m tossing in my hand. You win, who is this about.”

A shaky laugh leaves Vanilla, making him wince when it comes with a raspy wheeze, “I don’t know.” ...He was getting worse. He was getting a lot worse. Pure Vanilla had been infected with the condition for two weeks now, and it usually only took four to six weeks to get to this stage. The plant had grown and was now taking over more of Vanilla’s crumb, but that wasn’t the worry. It was making Vanilla make pitiful little noises as it spread yes, but the more pressing issue was the thing that was worrying Shadow Milk about what he needed to be saying.

It had spread to his Jam. It was a non-issue before, with the plant doing little other than tasting it perhaps. It wasn’t the right kind to infect that, so as long as Vanilla accepted the truth the flower would sprout and spread out of his mouth until whoever he was keeping in the dark was made aware that way. Simple, elegant. The issue arose from the fact that Vanilla seemed to be clueless about the cause and unable to accept it, making the plant be stunted to a limited flowering stage. 

So instead of the condition progressing to it’s usual next stage it was spreading a new way: by evolving a second type of flower to show it’s colors. Violets . Faithfulness, Loyalty. An underlying desire to stay by whatever he was deceiving himself into believing was wanting him. able to read loneliness my ass . It was spreading into Vanilla’s Jam, slowly taking over his underlying crumb in a way that the relatively safe but painful Thornapple hadn’t been. Thornapple was painful, this was deadly. ...He needed to fess the hell up and fast. 

Shadow Milk put a hand on his hip, ignoring the usual gambit of staring at unseeing eyes to look directly at the staff, “It seems we’re in a pickle then, Vanilly! See, if you don’t start figuring it out, you’re going to be eating more flowers than I normally grow! Who is it! ”

His true eyes are just as unknowing as his false ones, “I’m afraid I... truly do not know. No one I have been able to think of would fit the description-”

“ Anyone ! Anyone at all you have been hiding something from! Anyone who provokes Any strong emotion in you, romantic, platonic, or anger filled! Anything, Vanilla! This is-” he stumbles, catching himself verbally, “-This is getting annoying !”

He stares at the true eyes, watching them blink and calculate with the new information that it could be any kind of emotion, “...I don’t... well...” he ponders, and Shadow Milk turns to see his face as he lets his eyes flicker open to stare emptily at the floor, “...What kind of secret would it be?”

The Living Lie presses his hands to Vanilla’s shoulders, “ Anything . It could be Anything, Nilly. Maybe you feel bad about forgetting Gingerbrave’s Birthday, or something. Any friend, any romantic person. Anyone . Just- Who are you keeping a secret about?!”

Blank eyes flicker thoughtfully, “...I...” he hums, “...I wouldn’t know, I suppose.”

Shadow Milk turns and picks up a chair, throwing at the wall with perhaps too little flair for it to be disguised as a dramatic act, “ Vanilla . If you say that One. More. Time. ”

A laugh rings through the air, “Forgive me. Allow me to rephrase, “ Shadow Milk turns to see Pure Vanilla shaking slightly, “I don’t think I have the time to analyze this thoroughly enough to find the origin of this. I’ve been looking at it over and over, but I’m afraid the way I process emotions does not line up with any of this at all. ...There isn’t anyone in my life I would consider to be close enough to as a friend or as a lover for that to be affecting my emotions.”

The beast doesn’t bother tucking his extra eyes into his hair, “Clearly, there seemed to be some fault in that line of logic.” 

Vanilla looks down, and hums, “...Shadow Milk Cookie, could I make a request of you? In exchange for a truth, would you give me one back?”

He twists his head parallel to the floor, “Is the truth who the hell this is?”

His other half smiles, “I’ll go first: I know I’m dying,” the air feels like it’s carved from stone, something indigestible despite the soft smile on Pure Vanilla’s face, “You next. Since I went first I think it’s fair I ask you to answer a question. Are you going to accept that I won’t be able to find the origin, or am I going to be spending my last days to the tune of broken chairs?”

...Fuck. “You aren’t going to die to this.”

A soft smile graces Vanilla’s face, “If I do, will you accept that?”

Shadow Milk’s feet are firmly on the ground as he moves to stand in front of Pure Vanilla, “No. I’m going to keep trying. I will keep trying . I am not going to- to let you die of stubbornness .”

Hands trace up to hold Shadow Milk’s outstretched hands, grabbing them before he could begin grabbing Vanilla, “...Then I will die with you breaking all of your chairs.”

He throws Vanilla’s hands off of his to grab his hair, moving his head back and forth with rage, “ You. Will. Not. Die. Of. Stubbornness. I will torture this out of you, you fucking-”

Blind eyes don’t look scared in his hands, “I don’t know. I truely, fully, do not know.”

The air is quiet as he releases him. ...It’s just as quiet when Shadow Milk leaves the room. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the three week mart of Vanilla coming down with the condition. ...This stage normally didn’t present until around four months in. Vanilla still just didn’t know. 

The formalities of their arrangement had been thrown aside at some point, with Shadow Milk dismissing accusations from his henchmen of going soft. They had... stopped the comments when they realized it was a mourning period of sorts. 

Pure Vanilla Cookie wasn’t going to be making it out of this. ...Somehow this hurt despite it being something he had pondered at one point. He’d long decided that he wanted pure vanilla alive, to be part of his plans rather than a death needed for them, but... he was tired. They were both tired. 

Vanilla couldn’t physically make breathing motions. They had been laying in Shadow Milk’s study for the past two days, a priorly unused placed until around four days ago when he went on one final fit of looking for books on a cure. 

None existed. Vanilla had found him part of the way through and settled to sit with him as he read, quiet as the branches took his ability to speak. He just.... Didn’t know. He truely, on every level, didn’t know who it was. 

It was killing them both. 

Shadow Milk’s hand ran through Vanilla’s hair as he stared through the cookie, seeing his jam slowly turn to candied violets. He was looking at Shadow Milk with blind eyes and a soft smile, leaning into the affection with every pass of his hand. 

“...Why did you stay? ...Why didn’t you go with whoever made you feel like this?”

He couldn’t talk, so there really wasn’t a point in Shadow Milk asking. ...Today was likely the final day Vanilla could get better. They had agreed that if he got to a point there there was no recovery, they’d find... some more humane way of ending the needless suffering. Vanilla had disagreed at first, but he’d pushed on ensuring the violets weren’t what ended him. ..It was an extremely painful death. 

It left them with a deadline, but they had both accepted their time was long up. 

Vanilla’s hands moved in sign language near where they stayed around his chest, constantly clutching to reduce the pain, “ You. ”

He was sure he didn’t look impressed, “Do you think dying is going to change me? ...Did you think I was going to be proven wrong with this, somehow?”

Shadow Milk considers ignoring the hand motions to stare into his eyes, having to abandon those gold and blue eyes for precious running low seconds to see his hands, “ No. A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T. ”

He runs his hands through a braid he’d put into Vanilla’s hair yesterday, “...You have a terrible taste for accidents, Vanilly. ...Should have died in someone else’s arms.”

The hands pause, moving again quietly, “ Happy Here. ”

Shadow Milk laugh, a full belly one, “With me? Out of all the people you could have chosen, you choose me?”

Vanilla frowns, considering. Did he seriously not consider that until now? He focuses his hands, “ You. Special. Half me. You. Not Friend ” Ouch. “ You not Love. You Mine. I want here. ”

The Beast chews this, tilting his head, “...If I was so special, then why did you die for someone else, huh? ...What made you want to stay here if you love something else so much.”

Vanilla pauses, and seems to shrug off whatever was silencing him from deathbed courage. His hands tremble as me moves them, “ You. I want you to stay -”

A gross hrrk comes from Vanilla, and horror shoots through his face. Shadow Milk stares, watching Vanilla process something. A horror, and then an enlightenment. Despite having not moved all day Vanilla shoots up, coughing like mad. 

Shadow milk watches his chest heave as he begins signing hard, coughing like hell as he does, “You. You I-” Regret passes over his face, and a small amount of shame. His stare is intense as Shadow Milk holds it. He gives a hard cough, and a pile of petals falls out of him, “My Secret. I Found it. I. I want.” they both shake as Vanilla signs, his chest giving a heave as he makes the confessing motion, “I want you stay bad so I stay forever.” 

They both shake as his blank eyes stare into the wall three inches to his left. Pure Vanilla looks down, and begins to vomit a gross mess of pastry and Flowers straight into Shadow Milk cookie’s lap. 

“...It was me ?! You stupid asshole !”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vanilla stared at the flowers of the garden feeling the ache in his jam still from the candied violets. 

The term was QPR, it turns out. When one loves without loving, and wants to be with someone forever regardless of who they were. ...It was nice knowing there was a word for it. 

Shadow Milk was floating overhead, going on some ramble about some thing he knew too much about. ...He’d gotten cockier after leaning that Vanilla wouldn’t leave if he stayed the same, and more careful with Vanilla after the incident. He was under new strict orders to be extra careful, and ‘less stupid’.

...He could deal with that. 

Snapping hands tuned him in, “-Vanilly, are you listening?Come on, I was talking to you!”

...Shadow Milk was stuck with him, in more than a few ways, “Sorry, could you repeat? The wind looked quite interesting.”

An annoyed sigh continued his ramble, pouting about being more ignorable the the sight of the wind. 

They would complete each other, in many ways.