My name is Violetta/Dio (she/her), I am 25 years old. I'm a slow writer who sometimes writes things character x reader. I translate my texts through a translator because English is not my native language. If you see an error in the text, I will be glad if you point it out!
The fandoms I write about:
Disney: twisted wonderland
Honkai star rail
Jojo's bizarre adventure
Genshin Impact
Cookie run kingdom
I'm writing:
It is more convenient for me to work with a female reader, but I try to alternate this with a gender-neutral reader
If gender is not specified in the request, I will write with gn!Reader
I have no problem to write to yandere!character x reader
I accept up to three characters! Exception if it is a group, for example: Dorm Leader or beast cookie.
Please try to describe your request as clearly as you can. This will help me a lot!
Oneshots are accepted only for one character.
I won't write:
Male reader (sorry!)
Despite the fact that I agree to write to yandere x reader, please note: if it seems to me that your request is unnecessarily cruel or overstepping the bounds, I will delete it
Summary: You just decided to make fun of them.
Characters: Riddle Rosehearts x reader, Leona Kingscholar x reader, Kalim Al Asim x reader, Malleus Draconia x reader.
WC: 350
CW: gn!reader; there may be mistakes in the text because English is not my native language.
A/N: In fact, this headcanon was written earlier than the Lilia version :D
Riddle Rosehearts:
He straightens up abruptly. He already has an even posture, but now he can be used instead of a ruler.
He turns to you… And, whoops, do you look unhappy? Why? You haven't seen each other for a while because of the exams, is that really why?
He's in no hurry to say anything because: a) you'll tell him the reason yourself; b) he's having a system reboot, wait a couple of seconds.
Unfortunately, you're a lousy actor, so you're getting out of character sooner.
He's not happy with the prank, but at the same time he's glad that everything is okay.
You've unblocked his memory of how his mother used to address his father in the same way.
Leona Kingscholar:
He didn't even flinch.
And he didn't open his eyes.
And the tail… But no, wait a second, the tail stopped twitching.
"What?"
Wow, he didn't ignore you! Although, to be honest, he definitely suspects that this is your next joke. Let's just say it's a safety net in case you're really unhappy about something.
Which is not new. You're dating none other than Leona.
When you deflate and mumble "nothing", Leona just smirks and wraps his tail around your arm.
The fluffy tip slaps your skin, as if comforting you that it will turn out better next time.
A very ironic consolation, invented solely by you and your imagination.
Kalim Al Asim:
"Yeah?"
He smiles like he's going to dazzle you.
0% understanding.
You see, Kalim has a high emotional intelligence. No matter how much you pretend to be angry and annoyed, he will understand that this is not so. Perhaps unconsciously, but yes.
Don't look at Jamil, Jamil is his blind spot.
He giggles when you explain the joke to him and suggests you try again. He will try to react better!
No, honey, that's not how it works…
Malleus Draconia:
"I'm listening, human child"
0% understanding (2), and another 50% anxiety.
He's too used to you calling him exclusively "Tsunotaro", so it feels like his full name… It's weird. Something is wrong.
He looks at you with his unblinking gaze from the semi-darkness. His eyes are glowing. His eyes are glowing!!
...You seemed to want to make a joke, so how did you get into a horror movie?
Love your post about self-aware crk au. Is shadow milk gonna be fascinated with real world science? Like even if he isn't the fount anymore I still imagine him as a big nerd ^^
Hi!! I hope I understood correctly that this is not a request, but you just wanted to chat. If not, I'm sorry!
Let's be honest.
Shadow Milk is an old. It's been a long time since he was imprisoned in a tree, so even in the Earthbread itself, he has a bunch of things he'd like to explore (and mess up). He's an extremely curious cookie! But at the same time, I can't say that he's a nerd… Don't Nerds delve into a specific topic with their heads? Correct me if I'm wrong.
Okay, now let's introduce this messenger of chaos in a real-world setting… In fact, he'll be interested in you first. Your routine. What does a creature who looks after a modest kingdom do in his free time? You can do the most mundane things, like cleaning an apartment, and he will either try to sit on your shoulder/head, or fly around you. (And also trying to stop you from going about your business calmly - for this scoundrel, there is nothing more insulting than ignoring) What if you go outside the house? Expect a surprise in the bag! He won't sit still in it, and you'll have to periodically push him back in.
This period will last… In fact, it is impossible to say when you will cease to be of keen interest to him. Shmilk is a bit frivolous - interest in him fades as abruptly as it ignites.
So, real science. In fact, this is a rather broad concept. I don't even know what to offer here. It should be something easily accessible and understandable to him without unnecessary indentations. Okay, let's assume…
You know flour is explosive, right? If you demonstrate this to him one day, it won't end well for the people of the Earthbread. Of course, he won't use it himself, it's too simple and tasteless. But transfer this information somewhere? Oh, it's going to be great! The same category includes a combination of hot oil + water. Cookie usually avoid the water, but oh my God… It will create such chaos when it gets into the wrong hands… (Into his hands, his hands are the wrong ones, where such information can get to)
Okay, let's look at something a little more complicated, but harmless. Electricity from potatoes. It would be good to make sure that Shmilk knows and has an idea of what electricity is and how it works.
But in any case, he will try to extract information from you about how and why this happens. If you don't know the answers to these questions yourself, you can just Google it or find a video explaining it in detail. The latter is preferable, because it will take him some time and you can finally rest.
I have been haunted by one thought about crk for several months now.
Self-aware au + reverse Isekai
But they still remain the size of cookies. Ordinary cookies are about the size of your palm (the gingerbread cookies I saw were quite large), but the ancients/beasts are a bit bigger??? And also, as a human (Witch), their healing/mental/teleport magic or something else does not work on you.
This idea is so funny to me.
Just imagine that one day you open your favorite game and suddenly three cookies jump out of the screen. They're happy that they've finally been able to do this, but for some reason, no one else can step outside the game. You're going crazy. These three cookies are going crazy too. Each of you is going crazy for different reasons.
There is chaos in your apartment. Perhaps you have to urgently cover these unfortunate cookies with some kind of jar, because your noise attracts the attention of one of your relatives if you do not live alone.
And then at 12 o'clock at night they disappear, as if they were just your hallucination. You might have believed it if you hadn't opened the game again the next morning and the cookies popped out of the screen again. This time it's completely different!
It doesn't matter if you are happy with this situation or not, but you will have to come to terms with reality. If you still want to continue playing the game, of course.
In fact, life with them can be quite fun.
Burning Spice is a real devil for cookies. But for you? He can threaten you as much as he wants, hit you with his weapon as much as he wants. You can just click on it with your fingers, without even exerting effort, and his will fly off. His weapon is made of candy steel, the biggest wound it causes is a slight discomfort, like from an injection.
Shadow Milk prefers to slip out of the game when you fall asleep while playing. He's a real little scoundrel and could be a real demon of night paralysis for you… If only his tricks worked for you. Well, or at least it would be a bigger size. Instead, if you wake up and see his figure made of darkness with hundreds of glowing eyes, you just throw a pillow at him.
If you have something shiny and bright, most likely the Golden Cheese will try to steal it. Because of this, she often sits in a jar with a piece of paper labeled "prison for naughty cookies". Burning Spice mocks her until he forces you to put him in a second jar, with exactly the same piece of paper.
Someone like Black Sapphire tends to stay out of trouble. In fact, he even seems harmless when he's watching what you're doing. And then you see the other two cookies who arrived with him start to quarrel, and you turn to him. He's grinning. As a punishment for this, you turn off the radio.
This list can go on and on. But you know what I'm talking about, right??
Summary: You decided to play a prank, but you underestimated your family's reaction a little.
Characters: Lilia Vanrouge x fem reader + family Diasomnia
WC: 500
CW: fem!reader; there may be mistakes in the text because English is not my native language.
For as long as Malleus can remember, you've always been there for him and Lilia.
A little strict, a little serious. Malleus' very first memory is how you screamed furiously while Lilia was sitting on a swinging chandelier with him in her arms. It seems that in Lilia's opinion, this was supposed to put him to sleep, and you were worried that your husband might accidentally drop him.
You were the one who explained to Silver the dangers of the places where Lilia allowed him to go for walks. At first, you forbade walking alone (and shook your husband when he gave the go-ahead to dangerous pastimes), and then you walked with him, showing everything and explaining from your own experience.
(As he got older, no matter how grateful Silver was to his father for all the experience, he couldn't help but think that without you, one of the walks might have been his last… Or one of his father's regular dinners, which you drove out of the kitchen with a broom)
Sebek admired you from a young age, listening to his grandfather's old stories about you and Lilia. Baul rarely touched on the subject of the war between faeries and humans, but even without it, he had enough stories about you.
(Although Sebek is still skeptical of Baul's words that you used to be a messenger of chaos, which he and Lilia had to catch)
In their eyes, you were responsible. Wise. You were the one who stopped Lilia from doing really reckless things.
But none of them seemed to understand that…
"Lilia Vanrouge"
You rarely called your husband by his full name; even when you swore at him, you generally preferred to avoid any kind of address.
Silence reigns in the room — Sebek purses his lips, quickly glancing at the smiling Lilia, then at your completely empty face.
Strangely enough, Malleus reacts first.
Giving you a smile and a nod of greeting, he doesn't think twice, just… Disappears. Green lights of light scatter on the sofa, completely extinguished after a few moments.
Silver wakes up next. He furrows his thin eyebrows, noticing the way you're blocking the doorway, as well as Sebek's nervous gaze.
It is not surprising that he quickly comes to the right conclusions.
"Father, Mother, I think it's time for Sobek and me to train"
"What?! It's still an hour, you… Where are you taking me? Silver!"
It's a blessing that your living room is on the ground floor. Silver pulled Sobek outside with him… Jumping over the windowsill.
"Good luck," Silver says to no one, and then slams the window on the other side.
Lilia laughs openly, and when you approach, she gives you a sly look.
"Yes, dear? Is there something you wanted? You even scared our family away for that."
The cold-blooded mask cracks and you break into a smile.
"Oh, nothing like that, I just wanted to tell you that I love you."
...You loved making fun of your family no less than your husband. You just rarely do it.
Hey if it's not too much to ask may I please request a part 2 of the Happy birthday, My dear Fic? Like the aftermath of what happened to the reader when the Virtues corrupted and after the corruption after all the souljam was split in two by the witches
With love, your best friend
Summary: You were with them when they were first baked. You were with them when more and more cookies followed them. You've seen their beginning, and naturally you'll see their end. Right?
Characters: platonic!shadow milk & reader; platonic!burning spice & reader; platonic!mystic flour & reader; platonic!eternal sugar & reader.
WC: 3k
CW: gn!reader; there may be mistakes in the text because English is not my native language; Virtue calls you by an affectionate nickname ("My angel" - eternal sugar; "Dear/Sweet" - shadow milk) (mystic flour does not call you by an affectionate nickname, because she treats you respectfully and politely) (Burning Spice's only affectionate nickname is "Splinter"); a small mention of the missing limbs in the Flour part.
A/N: Not exactly what you asked for, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! (I made a bet with my friends that nobody wouldn't ask me for the second part. I lost, haha!)
pt1! pt2! (you are here)
Shadow Milk:
You're sure it's your fault.
It was so absurd. Who would have thought that Shadow Milk would be attacked? It only lasted a second, but it felt like an eternity to you. The head, now severed from the body, rolled across the floor as panic and turmoil began in the room. The screams merged into a solid white noise, but you clearly heard the words of the attacker: "Liar! You are the worst liar in the world!" Fortunately, cookie does not have time to escape in the confusion, and the guards detain them.
You can only thank Witches that Virtues are immortal. It would take anyone else's life, but Shadow Milk is fine. It's difficult to control his body, you stumble and even fall, but you get to the head of the Fount of Knowledge. Crossing his legs on the floor, you take his head in his hands.
"Shadow, how are you feeling?" "I… don't know. I don't understand. Did I do something wrong? Why did they call me a liar…?" "That's okay, Shadow. I'm at a loss too. Sometimes cookies… They may misunderstand what we teach them. Or cling to the teaching that we taught them before, until there are changes and a new discovery. But such a reaction is abnormal." "So I'm not a liar?" "Shadow, you're a Virtue of Knowledge. Knowledge is not a lie, but it is not the absolute truth either. Not black and not white. Knowledge is always teetering somewhere on the edge. We should accept this situation as an unpleasant experience and be more careful. I don't think anyone else would think of attacking you, but you should be more attentive to others, okay?"
Perhaps if you had chosen other words at that moment, everything would have been different. Perhaps instead of talking about your nature and giving advice, you should have supported Shadow Milk. Hug his head while you had the chance and cheer him up. Don't leave him thinking.
These changes occurred slowly and smoothly. You didn't even notice what was happening, not really interested in the outside world and the rest of the cookies outside the learning framework. But one day something made you come out of your shell.
"What in the name of Witches did you just say?" "Is something wrong, dear?" "You lied to them. The Garden of sweet Delights is located in a completely different direction. There's… there's a swamp! They're going to die!" "Did I lie? Oh, darling, your words hurt me so much! It's just a little social experiment." "Ex-xperiment?" "Right~! Don't worry, one of my students, Black Sapphire, will be waiting for them at the border, remember that one? He will stop them from acting rashly." "If you say so…"
But time passes. You catch yourself thinking that this experiment is still spinning somewhere in the back of your mind. There was something wrong with him, but you couldn't figure out what it was. Until the news reaches both of you: cookies have been found in the swamp. Not a single survivor.
Something snaps in you. This realization is so stupid that you feel like you're cracking. And what was the essence of the experiment? You didn't ask yourself that question, trusting Shadow Milk. Emotions overwhelm you so much that it even affects Shadow Milk—the tears flowing from the heterochrome eyes were yours, not his.
From that moment on, he stopped hiding his inclinations. Manipulation, lies… one day he started a rumor in some kingdom and a civil war broke out there. Instead of exploring the world and teaching cookies to explore this very world, the one you loved most in the world caused disasters.
"Come on, Sweet!" Shadow Milk reaches out to you, but you remain silent. Only timid tears sometimes blur his view of the splendor of the carnage caused by his words. "Open your eyes to the truth: for too long we have been led by fools who did not want to listen! They're just getting what they wanted so badly!"
Truth. Lie. Knowledge that balances on the edge of these two concepts. Your precious, best Virtue has been corruption, and so have you. You can no longer bring knowledge into this world with him...
"Don't you dare!" Cornered, shaking with rage, Shadow Milk covered your body with his palm, squeezing it so hard that if you were an ordinary jewel, you would have broken long ago. "I won't let you take my soul jam!"
But there's nowhere to run. Forks block the escape routes, and the Witch of Life, your creator, stretches out her palms to you.
You feel like you're cracking. Now, not figuratively, but literally. It hurts like hell. But it's so peaceful in the hands of a Witch...
If the situation were different, you would have laughed. You should congratulate Shadow Milk: You've changed your mind! As he wanted, you will no longer remain neutral.
You're two halves of the same whole, right? You complement him, and he complements you.
And if it has become a Deceit, then you will become the Truth.
Eternal Sugar:
You were doubtless blind to many of the changes in Sugar of Happiness.
It doesn't seem so bad: instead of waiting for the new residents of the Garden of Sweet Delights to arrive, she goes to look for them herself. The lyre in her hands sounds sweet and soothing, luring tired cookies. They fall asleep right at her feet. You ring softly when her hands gently touch these poor cookie, gently and tenderly.
"The happiness for cookies is such a fragile thing," Sugar of Happiness sings thoughtfully one day, contemplating the night view of the Garden. "They so easily throw it away for the sake of some trivial things, exposing themselves to pain and suffering, right, my angel?"
You're not really sure what to say to that. Mortal cookies fascinated you: no matter what happened, no matter what pain they endured, there were always those among them who stubbornly got up and went to their goal. It didn't matter that it was a goal — it could be something great, or it could be insignificant.
But you still say, "Yes, Sugar of Happiness". Because it was she, Bringer of Happiness, who was the one who had to instill this happiness into other people's hearts by any means. Your mission is not to let the spark go out in her heart.
The inhabitants of the Garden of Sweet Delights are slowly becoming different. Sometimes you're surprised to see how the one who cared the most about flowers sleeps in the sunlight. Another who could knead dough from morning to night to bake sweets and distribute the rest of the cookies did the bare minimum to eat everything himself.
There were smiles on their faces, weak and lazy, as if woven from dreams and lyre melodies. You think they look weird, like they're drunk, but it's okay, right? Sugar of Happiness is trying so hard to persuade everyone else to the same lifestyle. Perhaps, you think, this is one of the forms of happiness.
Therefore, those who try to escape from the Garden are strange. Poor, unhappy, lost cookies, Sugar of Happiness hugs one of them as if they were just fragile porcelain. The wings enclose their wounded body in a snow-white cocoon.
It doesn't matter that they return to the Garden in such a state because of the Sugar of Happiness. All their cracks can be repaired: sweet honey will fill their chips and in the light of the bright sun these cookies will shine again like the most beautiful of treasures. It's just a little lesson that it's dangerous outside!
Isn't that right?
Sugar of Happiness will never do anything that would be truly terrible towards others. There are still fresh moments in your memory when the Virtues parted and only you remained with her. A young, inexperienced cookie who was looking for her own ways to make others happy.
…maybe you're a little biased. But you can't be blamed for that. Each of the soul jams is biased, whether they want to admit it or not.
But at some point it became simply impossible to close my eyes. The garden became… quiet. Serene. The notes stopped. The grass, which had been heavily crushed under someone else's feet in the rhythm of the dance, recovered. The loud laughter turned into a blissful giggle in the wind.
Isn't that wrong?
But you don't say anything.
"Happiness is such a fragile thing, isn't it, my angel?" Yes, you think it's always much easier to break than to create.
You're a lousy Happiness.
"For what?!" shouts Sugar of Happiness, clinging to the forks. Tears flow from her eyes, blurring the view of the Witch of Light, and her body trembles slightly. "I'm not like them! I didn't do anything wrong! I did everything for the mission that you assigned me!.. Why?! The cookies are happy!"
You couldn't even save her heart.
Now you realize that you have not been able to cope with your role as a guiding light. Sugar of Happiness got lost on a path that you couldn't light up for her. Instead, you hid in the curls of her hair, shimmered between her fingers, giving her the right to decide everything alone.
It's all your fault. That's why you decide to sing. For the last time. This is your little apology.
"What are you trying to do… no! Don't you dare! Don't take my angel!"
And your attempt to say goodbye.
You sing until Sugar of Happiness voice disappears into the noise; until her heart, thrashing in fear and agony, stops.
Even at the very end, you couldn't give her any comfort.
Happiness is such a fragile thing. And you're so clumsy for that. You just hope that next time… You can protect the next heart better. Perhaps not as happiness, but as passion, something that mortals have taught you. Something that the old you couldn't exist without.
It's a pity that you realized this so late.
Mystic Flour:
You couldn't tell her anything. Not after that.
You knew that time passes differently for mortals. They are born, grow up and die — it's such a fast process. One has only to distract oneself, as the youngest of the temple servants become easily crumbled old men. You knew that when Mystic Flour decided to retire into a cocoon, there probably wouldn't be a single familiar face around.
That's why you're not at all surprised by the crowd of unfamiliar cookies. What you're surprised about is this rude way of interrupting Mystic Flour's privacy. The sight of the temple servants, crumbled into crumbs, pierced with pitchforks, and some even missing body parts, makes you feel sick.
Madness. The new generation, who have never seen Mystic Flour, must have gone crazy!
"It's… not a treasure, is it?" an uncertain whisper sounds between the residents.
Your Mystic Flour is the best of treasures! Unfortunately, you're smart enough to know that's not what they mean. Maybe gold and jewelry. You know, there are things that modest and ascetic temples are famous for.
Mystic Flour is silent. You can see her slender fingers digging into the chocolate tile of the floor, scratching the surface. Her hands are shaking a little. Was your soft, kind, timid Mystic Flour… scared?
"Her looks like an ordinary cookie" "But why was her in a cocoon?" "Oh, I know, I know! Grandma told me that this temple used to be run by a cookie who could grant wishes!" "It's even better than a treasure, the harvest this season was so poor."
Absolute disrespect!
"Mystic Flour, we should… Mystic Flour?" You speak first, but then you realize you've been isolated. You do not hear the thoughts of your Virtue, nor do you catch the echoes of her feelings. You reach out to her, but you run into a barrier separating you from her.
At the same time, Mystic Flour does what you least expect it to do — it turns the inhabitants into flour. It's a fast, painful process in which cookies start coughing up flour. Panic is rising. You can clearly hear someone shouting, "She's a demon!"
This day breaks something inside the Mystic Flour.
She doesn't get in touch with you either the next day or the following days. What an irony: You, who contacted her only when necessary, could only watch in silence now.
Because Mystic Flour will never answer you again.
The White Plague is destroying one kingdom after another. Unlike that day, it's a little… more merciful. Cookies turn to flour more slowly, more painlessly… But you can see their tired, scared faces when Mystic Flour is next to them in their last seconds of life.
You think Mystic Flour is still the same kind, soft cookie it used to be. It's just hidden somewhere deep inside, crushed by debris. But there's nothing you can do. You don't decide anything here.
When the Witch of Life traps them all, you only look at the Mystic Flour. She holds you in her palms, runs her fingers over the frames. But she still won't let you get close. Is she saying goodbye to you?
"I was never able to protect you. I'm sorry."
Perhaps the volition is too high and heavy an ideal. You've already seen how cookies break trying to withstand it. And if so… You should take a step back. To become something more mundane, something more attainable. Perhaps the Resolution won't push so hard?
It's a pity that for the sake of this realization you had to watch the self-destruction of someone you loved so much.
Burning Spice:
You've been trying to fight him almost from the beginning.
When he breaks the table in anger, you don't pay much attention to it. When he irritatingly shrugs off words of gratitude and gifts cookies, which he protected once again, you don't pay attention. When he doesn't respond to your teasing, you still don't pay attention to it.
But at one point it becomes simply impossible to ignore what is happening.
It was a routine training session. Sparring sessions. Burning Spice is so strong that it is impossible to fight one-on-one with him, so more than ten Wild Spices come out against him. You always follow the process closely — through Burning Spice, you give advice to his young soldiers. But today… something was wrong today.
The once peaceful surface of Burning Spice's emotions began to distort due to the ripples. The longer he sparred, the more and more excited he became. He had never been careful with his subordinates, but this was even worse.
The moment he raises the parashu over his head, a wall of earth is erected in front of the defenseless soldier of Wild Spices. Burning Spice just doesn't have time to react and the blade of the weapon gets stuck right in the barrier.
"May the witch put you in the oven again! What were you trying to do just now?!" you shout so loudly that Burning Spice winces from a headache. He snorts: "Just trying to teach them a lesson." "You almost killed them, you idiot!" "So what?"
Such an indifferent, casual answer shocks you. If you were a cookie, you'd be gasping for air with your eyes wide open. But you're not a cookie, so your shock turns to rage in an instant. She burns in Burning Spice's chest more fiercely than the fire in the furnace of the Witch of Life. Rubbing the place where you rest, he feels interest flare up in him, unnoticed by you.
Things get even worse after that day.
He single—handedly destroys an entire kingdom- what was once a small village that sheltered Burning Spice when the Virtues scattered all over the Beast-Yeast. The kingdom that he protected and nurtured with his own hands. The kingdom near which his very first temple was built. The cookies of this kingdom are so weak and fragile, so defenseless. After all, the wall behind which they had been hiding for generation after generation began to crumble inward.
It would hardly have pleased him.… But your attempts to protect others were so funny! You can't even fight against him—you have no arms, no legs, you have nothing but the bits of strength that you both inherited from the witches. Burning Spice thinks it's a fair deal — he uses only his body and weapons, while you, deprived of them, use the powers of witches against him.
"One hundred and seven," he thinks, turning the unfortunate resident into a crumb. "How many have you protected? I think it's sixty-seven, right?" You don't answer. The chapel nearby cracks and howls, but Burning Spice easily dodges the falling arrows and cuts one of the numbers with one blow. At the edge of my consciousness, he hear your disappointed clucking.
The old temples are emptying — no wonder, you think. Who would want to follow a mad Herald of Change? But very little time passes and little by little the temple comes to life again. Madmen, you think, sometimes seeing familiar faces in the crowd.
"I think I should say thank you," Burning Spice grins, standing in the center of a once prosperous, peaceful city. "You were once the one who tried to make me stronger in order to protect me. And now you're the one who can only flutter around trying to help others. It would be unimaginably boring without you!"
These words devastate you. You're almost ready to give up.… But you still try to resist him — even if it's useless, even if all your attempts are in vain.
Regret bubbles up somewhere inside you when you see the devastated and destroyed settlements. You want to imagine how carefree children run around here, how the market buzzes and whistles from the fervent laughter of the townspeople. How cookies live peacefully, not worrying about tomorrow, thriving in a happy routine. But all you see is fire, despair, and pain. What was once a natural cycle of change has become nauseatingly disgusting to you.
…so when a fork pierces Burning Spice, pinning him to the ground, you laugh. You're laughing so loud that Burning Spice can't even hear Sugar of Happiness and Shadow Milk's screams. Your laughter, full of despair, disorients him; you vibrate and hum in his chest so much that there are even small cracks around you. You don't hear him hissing, his fingers digging into the ground. You're laughing, even when you're shuddering in pain!
Never. You've had enough. You don't want to see death and pain anymore. Perhaps when you find yourself back in someone's arms, you will be able to see a kingdom full of abundance and a carefree world. You will save this kingdom, even if you have to stop time itself for it.
Summary: They find you in tears during a quarrel with your father.
Characters: Riddle Rosehearts x reader (Riddle Rosehearts & reader), Leona Kingscholar x reader (leona kingscholar & reader)
WC: 1,4K
CW: gn!reader; there may be mistakes in the text because English is not my native language; this headcanon can be romantic or platonic - as you wish!
Riddle Rosehearts:
You're missing.
Riddle should get used to the fact that you can appear out of nowhere and disappear into nowhere, like Chenya, but he can't. Especially when a well - known duo of offenders disappears besides you - you, quiet, not particularly sociable, always get into trouble with them.
More precisely, you try to get the Adeuce out of these troubles, but being so weak, you end up up to your ears in trouble yourself.
Riddle can't help but worry about you — even before his overblot, you were in his good standing due to your calm and obedient disposition.
...Therefore, when he does find you, he falls into a stupor.
You… Are you crying? You cry quietly, lowering your head low in front of a man who looks like you. It seems to be your father.
Well, his presence here is not surprising — today was the day when anyone could enter the college of the night raven. Usually, families do not miss such a chance to see their children.
But still, why?
"I can't get through to you forever! Why did I buy you a phone? So that you can play your games?"
"I set it to silent in class and just sometimes forget to switch back—"
"You keep forgetting everything! Seventeen years, and there were no brains, and they did not appear. And stop whining already, I'm explaining everything to you as it is. How did you even get to your age with such a character? You always start crying when I criticize you. Look into my eyes, you whiner!"
That was the most inappropriate word to describe you.
No matter how much Riddle thought about it, he couldn't remember a single time when you cried in the Harstlabule. Even in your first year, when, according to others, he "terrorized" the dormitory and was still a tyrant. Even when students from other dormitories saw you as an easy target for bullying and you didn't think to respond to them in any way. Even…
When the overblot swallowed him up, you tried to do everything in your power.
Riddle saw an unwavering spirit in you.
The one that was being trampled into the ground. You were being crushed and you couldn't say anything in response.
Riddle cleared his throat loudly, drawing attention to himself. His heart sank into his stomach at the startled look you gave him.
The man, who had been looking at you with a mixture of severity and anger, instantly changed, smiling at Rosehearts.
"I'm sorry," the man apologized when Riddle began to approach you. "You came running at the noise, didn't you? [Name] said that no one was here at this time, but apparently they forgot… Once again."
Riddle pursed his lips, struck by a sudden realization. The way you flinched at first when he yelled at the offenders… And the way you were doing it now, when your father was raising his voice…
Did you see your father in him?
A very unpleasant discovery.
"The rule of the Queen of Hearts 811…"
"What?"
Riddle sighed through his teeth. He couldn't believe he was saying this, but even more he didn't want to believe that he should just walk away and leave you alone.
"The rule of the Queen of Hearts 811: no card soldier should bow his head and listen… Criticism from no one but his queen"
After finishing this sentence (with too much effort for himself), Riddle quickly grabs your wrist and drags you away. It seems to shock your father so much that he doesn't even mind when you disappear into the maze of the garden.
Riddle doesn't turn around, but he hears your soft sobs.
He doesn't say anything. Unfortunately, he had never been taught to comfort other people, and he had never thought about it himself.
Riddle will fix it. Later. But now…
"...Housewarden, isn't the queen's rule 810?"
...He needs to find a way out of the situation.
Leona Kingscholar:
He was the very first to return to college from winter break. Well, or so Leona thought for a while.
The first thing he heard was rapid breathing, the second was the muffled voice of an unknown man. This voice definitely did not belong to any of the teachers. After a second, he realized that this man was not here, but was just coming from someone's phone.
He has sharp hearing, you know?
Anyway, it's none of his business. Leona was going to head to the hostel and sleep — he was unbearably tired during these holidays, the Checka squeezed all the juices out of him. But…
He casually glanced at this source of noise as he passed by, and immediately stopped.
Uh. So it's you.
Not surprising. You always managed to make a fuss, even when you tried to be quiet. Leona could hear you laughing even from his room when you were chatting with Jack on the street. Even your heartbeat is always amazingly loud when he used you as a pillow. You're loud, cheerful, clumsy…
Now she was standing in the hallway and trying to swallow her tears, not wanting to give away her condition to the person on the other side of the tube. You were so caught up in this activity that you still haven't noticed it.
Leona… To say the least, he is unhappy. In all the three years that you've known each other, he's never seen you in tears. You laughed even when you got bruised; even when a disk accidentally flew into your forehead and split your eyebrow.
The next second, he was frowning, and the tail was furiously flapping behind him. He listened to what the man was saying.
These were outright insults. Sometimes his voice would get louder and you would flinch.
"You should use your brain at least once in a while. Sometimes it seems to me that you are of the same development as a nine-year-old child, although he will be smar-"
Leona snatches the phone out of your hands and hangs up. You stare at the blank screen in fright, then turn your gaze to the beastman and swallow.
"It's been a long time, Leona. You came back toda-"
"What was that just now?" he growls and you see how his ears are pressed to the top of his head.
Is he, is he angry? Did you do something wrong? I probably should have gone straight out into the courtyard so as not to attract attention, but how could you have known that the headman of Savanclaw would also arrive today?
"Just a lecture from my father. I made a mistake again and—" "What did you do?" "What?" "What mistake did you make?"
You fell silent, looking down at the floor. Leona chuckled—you didn't even understand why you were being insulted!
"It's none of your business. Return the phone, my father will definitely be even more angry that I smugly dropped the ca-"
At the same moment, the phone in his hands rang. The number that appeared on the screen was unfamiliar and Leona could only grin — you, who had no problem handing out your number to first-year students if they needed help, and also wrote down their numbers, did not bother to write down your own father's number.
Without thinking for a second, he turns off the phone. He won't be calling now.
"Leona!"
At first he thinks of throwing the phone into the bush, but then he just hides it in his pants pocket. He could have bought you a new one, but then listen to you whine about all sorts of photos and profiles in video games? Fire me.
"Leona!!!"
"Hush. I want to sleep, so let's go."
"But Father—"
"Tell him everything as it is. If he has any objections, I'll be happy to listen to them," he interrupts you with the most smug expression you've ever seen on his face.
Well, your father really can't say anything about it. Not when his opponent is the second prince of Sunset Savanna…
Can you change from Platonic!Cannon x Reader to Cannon & Reader?
Using the ‘x’ or ‘/‘ means ship while using ‘&’ is for platonic
Not mad, just want you to know
Thanks for the clarification! In fact, I've seen others use "X" for platonic headcanons before? So I just followed them.
Summary: You were born as a soul jam for Virtue. You are their friend, mentor, and guiding light. You are closer than any other of the Virtues. You are the light, and they are your protectors.
Characters: platonic!shadow milk & reader; platonic!burning spice & reader; platonic!mystic flour & reader; platonic!eternal sugar & reader.
WC: 2,5k
CW: gn!reader; there may be mistakes in the text because English is not my native language; light of knowledge!reader is very chatty; light of Change!reader is a bit toxic; Silent Salt will be added after their release.
pt2!
The general beginning:
For the first time you wake up in someone else's arms: the heat scorches your cold body, and a quiet whisper penetrates into your very core, resonating, filling to the brim.
A figure made of the purest light is smiling — you can feel it because thin lips are touching your… body. Or something that can be considered one.
You don't remember anything, you're the snow-white first snow on the mountain tops: just as untouched and innocent.
But you know that this is not a kiss — life itself is being breathed into you.
"Nice to meet you, my dear," a voice sounds like the tinkling of bells. "I hope someday you will find the strength to forgive me. This is the best uniform I could make for you."
You want to reassure her that everything is fine. You can't move to stroke her warm light. You're shouting that you're not mad. But nothing works. Her don't hear you, or maybe they just ignore you. You can't understand — you can't see someone else's face.
"You will become a companion and a support for one cookie. Lead them by lighting their way with your power—don't let them get lost in what awaits them."
You swear, but your oath hangs in the air, unheard.
When her palms approach the baking tray, you see them: have cookies, sleeping peacefully and waiting in the wings. Four of them are decorated with large stones that began to twinkle and hum more and more the closer you got.
You got it.
You're just like them.
And you are destined the last cookie, still deprived of stone, future light.
It's like love at first sight.
Your body is heating up more and more with every second, now not you who's being burned, but about you. The impatience to cling to someone who would become your legs and arms almost sizzled inside you.
"Happy birthday, my dear light ◆◆◆◆◆◆…"
Shadow Milk:
Before he saw the other Virtues; before he heard the voice of the Witch of Life… His consciousness is shuddering from your excited voice, shouting "hello!!"
It was the speedrun of Virtue's acquaintance with his soul jam, congratulations to him.
He quickly realizes what it means to be a Virtue of Knowledge. You're quite talkative.
No, it's not like that.
You literally won't shut up.
"Shadow, what is this?" "Shadow, what do you think, how to do this?" "Shadow, why do they do it this way?"
Probably, if you had been in the wrong hands, everything would have ended badly. The same Burning Spice is not very patient — Shadow Milk has more than once caught moments when he openly cursed with his souljam. But he's not like that! In fact, being a Fount of Knowledge, he was delighted with your every question. You knew how to find a gap in everything and turn everything upside down.
Shadow Milk is a curious cookie. Curiosity was baked before he was — after all, how else can you gain knowledge without having an ounce of curiosity? But you're literally on another level. Maybe it's because you're not a cookie; maybe it's because you're the purest quintessence of what he's supposed to bring to the world. The question that was just beginning to form on his tongue, you already voiced it as if it were your breath.
Sometimes even the night itself wasn't a hindrance to you. You buzzed and scratched his mind from the inside, your insistent whisper of "Shadow, Shadow" pulled him out of the world of dreams.
"What is..?" "If we burn circles of filling, limiting and drawing mana from the moonlight on the bottom of the jug, we can make the jug fill on our own, but so that the contents do not spill out from the edges?" "There is only enough space at the bottom of the jug for two circles…" "And if we combine circles of restriction and mana drawing? Half of the symbols echo each other, and they also have a similar energy flow structure!" "…" "…" "It's useless, but let's try" "Yay, yes!!"
Without waiting for dawn, the Fount of Knowledge went to the library. He was looking for books that could be useful, and you remembered every article about double magic circles: how they work, what needs to be considered, how it affects the effectiveness of the spell.
Shadow Milk hated the session season as much as the students hated them. But he had one advantage that they didn't have: you.
"I don't know who wrote this nonsense, but he clearly has the brains of a chocolate frog." "Who do you have to be to confuse the circle of teleportation with the circle of summoning? Brave! Instead of escaping, this cookie will be able to throw her Pokemon into danger." "I don't know what kind of potion this cookie was trying to make, but it's tea. Shadow, don't laugh! It looks like tea, smells like tea, and I'm sure it tastes like tea too!.. Are you seriously drinking this?!"
The longer he lived, the more authoritative his words were. Every year, fewer and fewer cookies appeared ready to challenge him — they simply retreated, admitting defeat in an argument that had not even begun. This annoyed Shadow Milk. It annoyed you.
In the end, you were the only one who dared to try to change his mind about one thing or another. It wasn't always successful, but sometimes you won over him!
Eternal Sugar:
You didn't talk to her right away.
When Sugar of Happiness asks itself, "How can I make cookies happy?" you ask immediately, without hesitation, "What would make you happy yourself?"
Sugar of Happiness doesn't know. She, who had just been born, born for the mission of making others happy, did not know what happiness was.
"It's okay," you reassure her in a soft, warm voice. Your voice is gentle and caring, like a cloud of cotton candy, and Sugar of Happiness feels the anxiety dissipate in an instant. "We can figure this out together. Step by step. That's going to be our priority right now, because only a happy cookie can make everyone else happy, right?"
And that's how your journey began.
You pulled her along to meet the sunset on the hill. You offered her to try every food she could lay her eyes on. When you saw how some cookies taught young cookies to draw, you pushed her to test themselves in this.
Not every one of your ideas was successful. During some classes, the Sugar of Happiness fell asleep, she didn't like something else, and in the third she just couldn't see what you saw. And with every failure, you felt as if a crack appeared on your body, even though it wasn't.
"We've just wasted our time…" you muttered with guilt in your voice. Instead, you could have tried to find something else that would definitely make Sugar of Happiness happy! "I don't think so," Sugar of Happiness herself sings with a smile. "After all, we realized that it doesn't make me happy, right?"
In the end, the first thing that finally aroused interest in Sugar of Happiness is playing musical instruments. She was especially good at lyra. Sometimes she would sit in the town square and gather a crowd of cookies listening to her play. And you… as if under hypnosis, you started singing.
When this happens for the first time, Sugar of Happiness feels the lightness in her dough, as well as the warmth curling somewhere in the center of her chest. You notice it right away. Now, every time her fingers pluck the strings of the lyre, you sing. Only for her.
When the Garden of sweet Delights is ready, you congratulate her. The first step in realizing your mission has been accomplished. Now it's a small matter.
You are surprised to notice that Sugar of Happiness imitates you: she greets each cookie with a gentle, gentle voice; she helps each one find something to do in the Garden that makes the cookie happy. Someone likes to take care of flowers, someone likes to bake, someone has a rich imagination and a silver tongue.
She gives her all for the sake of others, stopping only when you insist on rest.
After all, Sugar's of Happiness mission is to make cookies happy, and yours is to make Sugar of Happiness happy.
Mystic Flour:
While the other Virtues managed to establish contact with their soul jams, you remained silent.
Mystic Flour felt your invisiblepresence. The power that you shared with her when she fulfilled the wish of another cookie was warm. But this feeling you of watching and studying her froze her fingers so much that sometimes she couldn't even bend them.
Anxiety ate the Mystic Flour from the inside out: don't you accept her? Maybe you're not rejecting her completely just because you two are connected because of the witches.
On the other hand, you were… at a complete loss.
Mystic Flour was a kind, gentle, and generous cookie. You, who were born as a guiding light for her, were just a ridiculous flicker of a candle. Flour itself was the light that one could blindly follow.
But at some point, it became impossible to remain silent. The cookies that followed her sometimes annoyed you with their frivolous desires. This time, as many as three of them clung to the Mystic Flour at the same time — everyone was sure that it was he who should be listened to first, and the rest could wait.
Mystic Flour stood and watched the growing dispute, anxiously shifting her gaze from one cookie to another. It was at this moment, when her discomfort level began to go through the roof, that she heard you: "Straighten your back and lift your chin higher. Relax your shoulders and don't look into your eyes, look at they forehead. It'll make you less nervous. And then tell them to calm down, otherwise none of their wishes will be fulfilled."
Your voice is clear and unbiased. Maybe a little commanding, but firm and confident. This confuses her even more than the scolding of cookies, which is why she follows your instructions without a second thought.
"You should remember," you continue when the situation has calmed down. "These cookies have come to ask you for a wish, not the other way around. You have the right to refuse the stupid, you have the right to ignore the overly arrogant."
You weren't very talkative. You only made yourself known at certain moments, giving advice on how to behave to Mystic Flour in certain situations. Sometimes meager praise was what Flour expected when she did what you were just about to ask.
You realized what your mission was as a soul jam. You were supposed to be the inner core of the Mystic Flour. Make the right image out of her soft dough, so that they can't look down on her, and send her to the oven so that this image doesn't crumple under the impact. The main thing is not to let her lose this kindness and sincerity.
"We should make a temple in the mountains," you insist, when Mystic Flour chooses a place for his temple. "The higher, the better. Maybe then there will be fewer fools, and there will be more worthy fulfillment of desires. Let them think whether it's so important in the face of a ladder of a thousand steps."
Burning Spice:
The way you first made yourself known was not by talking. At that moment, there was a battle going on against the monsters — Burning Spice was trying to protect the village that sheltered him and the rest of the Virtues. He was about to strike with a parashu when the ground beneath his right foot changed, turning into quicksand. Before he could react, he stumbled absurdly, and a second monster flew over his head, which he did not notice, and bit the neck of the one Spice was going to cut down.
"Oh Witches," your doomed voice rang out, full of suffering. "My cookie is an idiot!"
Any one of the Virtues, watching they friend, was sure that he did not get along with his soul jam at all. Every time he addressed you, it was more like an endless, incessant argument.
It's not just his fault. You've been adding fuel to the fire too. "You can't really protect yourself." Your voice is mocking and snide, Burning Spice is sure that if you had a mouth, you would have bared your teeth in a wide grin. "Then how are you going to protect others?"
He had to listen to it after every battle, when he returned with serious wounds, and sometimes even almost crumbled. Stupid, weak, stubborn — you hit his sore spots with a vengeance, picking at the wounds and penetrating under the crust like the most terrible virus. He didn't want to admit it, he hated to admit it, but you were right.
Hard training wasn't the only thing he did. He fought tirelessly every day with his only opponent, you. And this battlefield was different from the battles against monsters. You didn't try to hurt him, but every little victory you win is a humiliation for him.
When a small stone falls on his head, the impact is stronger than it should be. "What is it?" you giggle when Burning Spice tries to lift that stone, but it doesn't work. "You don't have enough strength? And I said that you need to develop fine motor skills!" "How is this related?!" "You'll spend a couple of weeks modeling clay and you'll understand! Or you won't understand—I just remembered who I'm talking to, haha!"
Burning with rage and indignation, he follows your words — he must prove that your words are utter nonsense! But time passes and Burning Spice realizes that the parashu begins to feel different: he feels where it is more convenient to grab so that the base does not slip, as well as how to keep the balance of the weapon. His movements become clearer and his punches more precise. It makes him even angrier.
Damn clay modeling!
One day, his patience bursts like a soap bubble. He bites you. Trying to bite through, well, or at least cause just a small crack. Anything! Instead, he feels you vibrating against his teeth because you're laughing. "Oh witches, what are you trying to achieve?!" you scratch somewhere inside him, testing how much he will last. "If I could be broken so easily, I would have already broken, considering how often you fall!" "And for who am I falling?!" "I'm developing mindfulness in you, since the witches have deprived you of brains! Since there is no strategy when you rush into battle, then be kind enough to at least pay attention to the situation around you!"
When the first temple is being built for him, you are silent. Burning Spice feels his dough itch with a sense of emptiness: he was so used to your caustic comments that the silence seemed uncomfortable. Unpleasant. Alien. He never contacted you first—it was always you, your advice, and your jabs at his weaknesses.
"Are there any complaints again?" snorts Burning Spice, leaning back against a pillar. You don't answer. "Hey? Knock knock, is the splinter in touch?" You're still silent. "If you answer me, I'll jump out of the window."
He always knew that even though you were like that, you were worried about him. You expressed it in her own way. Your banter has always been aimed solely at making him stronger. And if you were too soft… he would just brush off your words.
"Have pity on the poor cookies," you say without enthusiasm. "Anyone is traumatized by the sight of some fool jumping out of a fourth-floor window." "It's the first time you've been silent for so long." "I was thinking." "About what?" "Perhaps my presence is no longer necessary. Maybe you can handle it without me now."
There's silence at first, and then Burning Spice laughs, loud and raucous, so that it takes his breath away. "This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life!" You hum in displeasure on his chest. "If it wasn't for you, I would have turned into crumbs back then, on the first day of our baking!"
You're silent, now considering his words.
"This temple was built for me. What do you think?" "…I think it's too luxurious for someone like you." "I'm in a good mood today, so I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
You're mumbling awkwardly. Burning Spice can feel the warmth spreading through he body from the dough touching you. "Congratulations, Spice. You've grown a lot during this time and you deserve it all."
I decided to show you a piece of text from one of the oneshots that I started writing somewhere at the beginning of the last update crk.
(I have an institute graduation next week, stress is jumping like blood pressure, haha.)
I haven't read the plot of this update yet, but I know that Shmilk didn't communicate with Sugar for long. I'm posting this piece of text because my friend, who read the story, said that Shmilk and Sugar are fighting like children there. And my second friend, who was listening to it too, said, "Like in Violetta's fanfiction?" "Like in Violetta's fanfiction :D"
Summary: You, the personal disciple of the Sage of Truth, disappears so suddenly that it cannot but cause him anxiety. Fortunately, thanks to your friends, he notices your letter. But that still doesn't solve the main question: where are you?
Characters: Truthless Recluse х reader (pure vanilla x reader); platonic! sage of truth & reader (shadow milk & reader).
WC: 1,5k
CW: fem!reader; there may be mistakes in the text because English is not my native language; the text contains original characters (your friends);
A/N: The prologue can be strange and confusing, because I'm writing fanfiction inside my little AU, which I've expanded based on the official timeline of Pure Vanilla and Shadow Milk costumes. I hope, despite this, you will enjoy this work!
A/N 2: It was only after I wrote everything down that I realized that there was a Sable cookie in crk. But I didn't change anything.
Something's wrong.
The day went as planned: there were no classes in the morning and Shadow Milk spent most of his time in the library, studying books on the topic of a new dissertation, rechecking information already known; after lunch and until dinner, lectures; followed by a small meeting of professors of the Yogurt Academy…
Everything that was in his plans for today. Calmly. Serene. Sometimes his irritation got the better of him when he noticed students nodding off, but that's okay. There are more than one or two of them, it's even within his expectations. No one broke into his lecture or interfered with the learning process.
It's too quiet.
In the empty corridor, illuminated by the last rays of the sun, there was a nervous knock. Tap-tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap. Tap. Lost in his thoughts, the Sage of Truth began tapping the textbook with his claw.
Why wasn't he pulled today? At least once a day, but his lecture was disrupted, and sometimes his schedule was shifted due to problems. The source of these problems was [Name], a young child who, if she could, would dry up even the sea itself for the sake of her curiosity. [Name] is not a student of the academy — [Name] is only his disciple. And, accordingly, he is responsible for her antics, otherwise it simply cannot be.
But it's so disgustingly peaceful today that Shadow Milk can't really concentrate. On the days when [Name] went to visit someone from the Sources*, she at least gave a few days' notice of her departure. Now, going over the memories of the past week, he could confidently say: that there had never been a word about anything like this.
Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.
...Come to think of it, they didn't even manage to cross paths in the morning. Unlike him, [Name] prefers to sleep until noon, but invariably, day after day, she gets up as early as she can. Shadow Milk has a busier schedule than the rest of the academy's professors — sometimes his have to return home well after midnight. And [Name], knowing this, tried to be with him at least during a quick breakfast — with her face buried in the table, she sat next to him and slowly blinked, listening to her teacher's chatter. She used to fall asleep in this position while the Sage of Truth stroked her head.
Then he didn't bother her—there were days when [Name] ignored all her alarm clocks. It was just that later, after another lecture, she could burst into an empty classroom and start whining that he hadn't woken her up.
Probably in vain. He would need to check her room upon his return…
“Good evening!” a clear voice is heard somewhere from the side, as the Sage of Truth comes out of the academic building. He abruptly turned his head, looking in confusion at the two cookies rapidly approaching him.
What a hectic day it is. Where did they here?
"What a surprise," Shadow Milk nods, curiously surveying the group. The second cookie, standing silently behind her friend, frowned at his attention. The constant reaction, how charming. "I didn't know you were coming today, Biscotti, Sable."
Biscotti smiled awkwardly, scratching head.
“We didn't warn [Name].”
At these words, both cookies looked at him attentively. It was as if they expected their friend to jump out from behind him and pounce on them.
Shadow Milk smiled knowingly. Such a development of events unfolded before his eyes more than once and more than twice. [Name] was well aware of other people's personal boundaries, and then she was happy to break them.
“As you can see, she's not here.”
Sable sighed heavily, whispering something so softly that only Biscotti couldhear. Biscotti hissed at her friend, pushing her harder behind her back, after which she gave him a cursory glance. Shadow Milk pretended that he hadn't noticed either of them, and his friendly smile didn't waver a single gram.
"We've been looking for her all over the territory today, because she usually doesn't go outside the academy," Biscotti explained the situation as politely as possible, then added in a lower voice, muttering more into the void than to anyone in particular. "Did she really go to the city?"
No. [Name] rarely went to the city — she visited bookstores once a month, returning with at least a couple of books. Some of them were donated to the library, but especially valuable ones replenished their shelves.
“In any case, you can stay in your old room,” the Sage of Truth decided to end their conversation, having exhausted all the necessary information from this. "But I need to go to my office first."
"We'll go with you!" Biscotti perked up, ignoring how hard Sable tugged at her clothes. “It won't be so lonely together.”
“I appreciate it.”
Well, that's just as well. The anxiety that had accumulated all day carefully faded into the background as he listened to Biscotti's chatter. Sable was reluctant to answer or correct her friend, rolling her eyes after another joke.
His office greeted them with silence. No matter how much Shadow Milk listened, he couldn't catch any ragged breathing or restrained giggles. So [Name] wasn't here either. He clicks his tongue in displeasure, putting the textbook in the only available place.
What kind of ridiculous situation is this?
Worry involuntarily swirled in his head — if something happened to her... it's impossible to hide everything forever, right? Someone found out [Name] little secret — neither a resident of Dessert Paradise, nor source subordinates, but someone from ordinary cookies. Biased, living in ignorance, hating and fearing…
It's too dangerous.
“Oh, it's a letter from [Name]!”
Fortunately, he is pulled out of the whirlpool of anxious thoughts, reminding him that he is not alone here.
Biscotti was standing by his desk, examining the contents with interest. It was cluttered with documents and hundreds of hastily writtennotes. Normally, Shadow Milk would not have liked such an intervention.
But Biscotti was only interested in the sealed letter that lay on top of the papers. To be honest, Shadow Milk was also interested in it.
"Hello, Teacher!
I do not know when you will find this letter, but I hope sooner rather than later. Don't worry, I'm fine. I haven't been able to get our conversation out of my head for the last few weeks... oh, if you can't remember what kind of conversation it was, then everything is fine! Perhaps it's even for the best, I think, otherwise you would have forbidden me to leave the walls of the Yogurt Academy. I went on a little trip—I don't know for how long. Maybe I'll go back to next week, or maybe in a month! This is not another mission from Silent Salt, so please don't bother them for nothing. I'm an adult now and I can take care of myself on my own. Don't stay at work too long and don't forget to take care of yourself in my absence! And also breathing exercises — remember them too, you don't need to terrorize the unfortunate students of the academy just because they understand the material a little worse than others.
See you soon!
Love, you No. 1 disciple, [Name]~."
Considering how neatly the letter was written, the Sage of Truth could to conclude: his disciple had been preparing for this escape for a long time and carefully. If his looked closely, his could see faint traces on the paper. This means that this is far from the first version of the letter, although it is still impossible to parse the previous version. Given the new information, it is also possible to conclude that [Name] went either in search of someone or something.… But it doesn't really help to narrow down the range of ideas where she might have gone. He often told her about some faraway places of the Earthbread, various plants, unique holidays in different kingdom, or about new, outstanding minds! But this is something, if he had known about it, he would not have allowed to leave the walls of the house.…
“Did she say where she was going?”
The Sage of Truth blinked, coming to his senses, and looked up from the letter to Sable. Irritation tickled somewhere in his chest, unsatisfied that his stream of thoughts had been interrupted, because he was almost…
Well, no. He needs to calm down.
Breath. Exhale.
“No.” Shadow Milk smiled, slightly clutching the paper in his hands. After looking around the room once more, he hummed thoughtfully to himself to finally add. “I have a couple of guesses, but to determine exactly, I need your help. I would be extremely grateful if you could do me a favor.”
“Oh, of co-”
"Why should we?" Sable quickly covered Biscotti's mouth with her hand, while not taking her displeased gaze off one of the Sources.
"You don't have to," nodded Shadow Milk. "But you want to find [Name], right? Then you should accept my request."
"...Okay," Sable agreed with obvious difficulty. "What do we need to do?"
"Oh, it's nothing complicated!" The Sage of Truth assured them with exaggerated enthusiasm, hiding the letter in the inside pocket of his coat. "I need you to compare all the available maps from the academy library with the list and tell me which ones are missing and for how long."
Sable's mouth dropped open in genuine surprise. This request clearly goes beyond "nothing complicated". Shadow Milk giggled contentedly.
Unfortunately, they've already agreed.
There's no turning back.
A small note, because it is impossible to tell this in the text itself: Sources are the local name for Beast. Why are they called Sources? But that's later.
He hugs you like you're thin glass. You can barely feel his warmth because of all those clothes, and if you close your eyes, you'll think: is he still here? Sunday never lets you hug him back, as if he's afraid you'll get dirty. (But with what?) Every time you reach out to him, he immediately slips away like a morning mist. You don't know what to think about it, but you decide to accept it.
When Sunday returns, his embrace is greedy and painful.
You feel like you're suffocating in his arms. He's so close, as close as he's ever allowed you to be. Sunday hugs you to him with such force, as if he wanted to merge with you, and even the layer of clothing was no obstacle to the heat of his body. His hands are chains that don't allow him to move, but you can feel them tremble. Sunday nuzzles your neck, inhaling your scent, his breath rasping against your skin. Sticky despair runs down your skin from the places where he touches you. You cling to him fiercely in response, because the person in front of you is a crumbling wall, not a pale haze of fog.
