Yandere Beast Cookies x Reader part 8
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I'm here regardless of the pain. Don't ever tell me to go away.
Please leave comments and your thoughts on the chapter, they motivate me lots! Thank you<3
No, insanity would imply you've lost sense over your choices. That your sanity has eroded and left your mind a wasteland for you to wander as a husk of yourself. The choices you've made up until now may have been incautious, but not by any means made in loss of reason. You'd even argue that you're too aware of the rationality behind your actions. Ever since that seal rotted, you've been operating on pure determination.
Now, your body has paid the price for your carelessness and offers it back tenfold. There's an incessant throbbing under your dough. Your throat is painstakingly dry and your eyes burn like they're being clawed from the inside out.
You've been on the walk for a while now. Lost in a train of thoughts that races past before you can grasp it. Your brain feels like mush; every time a coherent thought starts to shape, it breaks back into goo just as fast, taking any sentiment of frustration with it down the drain. So you remain a passive observer in your own mind, if just to avoid the headache.
Your feet move over one another; the pliant grass brushes against your ankles. You wander without a real direction to follow; the surroundings haven't changed from their humdrum appearance, vibrant fields of green – that's all there is for miles.
You halt. A tiny prick of irritation slithers through the tar of your thoughts. Am I going in circles?? Your hand goes up to your necklace on instinct. Nervousness building up in you like a dam ready to break. Your Souljam feels warm, uncomfortably so. Its heat pulsing and spreading across your chest...You don't recall putting it back on. Nevertheless, it's the last thing you're concerned with.
Those memories. They played before your eyes like a horror movie. Reminding you of the anger, the desperation and helplessness that had consumed you for weeks, months.
There is a reason why you barred the events away to the depths of your subconscious, never to see the light of day. Yet its narrative has holes; you've just never delved deep enough to actually question its essence.
Someone had saved you that day. You wouldn't be here otherwise. It's a bitter truth to swallow.
Elder Faerie had never told you who had brought you to the kingdom, and you had not explicitly asked. It was merely a fact. The subject remained the eggshells, neither of you thought about breaking. You look down onto the windless pasture, staring until tiny shapes warp from nothing.
You had woken up in the Silver Kingdom. Traumatised and on edge. Greeted by Elder Faerie himself, the fabled ruler of the Faeries, stories of his existence and that of his kingdom only passed down by parents to starstruck children under the shelter of their covers.
The conversation you two had was one that broke your world forever.
"Why are you showing me this?" You whispered, your voice a cluttered mix of confusion and misery, and your eyes beheld the glowing Silver Tree before you.
"Because you have the right to know what occurred," Elder Faerie admits. There are hints of melancholy in his composed tone. "...The reason why chaos broke out in the continent is because the other Divine Emissaries each abandoned their virtue and turned to evil."
Your eyes glossed. "What?..."
"After their descent into darkness, they purposely hid from you behind their Deceit, Apathy, Sloth, Destruction and Silence."
I'm afraid so...The Witches have now banished them under the Silver Tree's quarry for their crimes. It appears Redemption was the only one that didn't fall...a small miracle in dire times. " The Guardian asserts, the gleam from the tree hits his armour and reflects to the ground in fragments. The stillness that accompanies you is excruciating. Whatever the Faerie King thinks of your rejection to respond is unclear. "...I understand you may be angry—"
Your eyes snap to him; the attempt at consolation veers at you like a knife. "Angry? Why would I possibly be angry?"
Your voice rises several octaves. "Is it because I spent every moment I could being with them and listened to their woes? Only for them to suddenly disappear? Then find out that they not only have given into corruption, but have also been purposely avoiding me all this time?
Elder Faerie stays silent. You continue, pacing back and forth like a beast in a cage.
"That I spent hours writing frantic letters when strife first broke out on the continent? Simultaneously trying to stop the chaos spreading across the land that they were causing behind my back!? That I dropped everything, EVERYTHING I was doing on a whim to visit them because I was worried that perhaps they had been hurt – or worse?? OR...or When those common Cookies ambushed my cathedral, and as I was crumbling in a pool of my own jam. All I could think about was praying and hoping that they were safe?"
You hold back tears. The anger within you is so poignant it threatens to poison the last remains of your soul. "Should I feel angry because I want to tear that tree from its roots and demand their non-existent remorse for making a fool out of me?!"
Your inflexion is jagged now. Breaking piece by piece. "Tell me, Guardian of the Seal. Should I feel wronged because—" You point to the cursed tree." -THIS WAS THE WAY I FOUND OUT?!"
The Faerie king bows his head."...I shall leave you in peace."
Once on your lonesome, you break. You fall to your knees; sobs that echo throughout the entire shimmering kingdom wrack your body. The cracks on your dough fester and expand with the overflow of your emotions, and the Silver Tree seems to mock you with its blinding light.
You had hollowed out every part of yourself for them. But in the end, it seems that in their eyes, everything you gave was ultimately worth less than the dirt under their feet.
Why was everything you did never enough?
Why were you never enough?
Why were you never ENOUGH?!
What did you do it all for in the end?
Did any of it have a point?
If you had succumbed to your fate lying on those cold tiles, would they have known? Would they have cared? Or would they have laughed? Dismiss it like all the other lives lost by their hands?
Crumbling in ignorance would have been a kinder mercy than this.
...You've got a headache again.
They betrayed you, and now, they have the nerve to want you back?
You squeeze your eyes shut and make an effort to focus. You can't unravel now. You can't. It would serve no use at all. You wish there was wind; you wish there were crickets of animals; you wish there was anything that could ground you. There wasn't. you wish your brain wasn't as scrambled as it was. It could aid you in confronting your bane much more clearly; instead, you're swarming in half-finished inclinations that refuse to settle.
You reopen your eyes and directly furrow your brows. In the distance, lining the horizon, something glimmering catches your fancy.
Is that...a river? You ponder. Your footsteps move forward without inhibition, the itch in your throat ushering you to get closer.
Once you do, you notice its surface is pale; you stoop down by its edge, taking down your hood. The stream has no ripples, no waves to disturb its calm exterior; it's so translucent your own reflection stares back, the replication hardly looks better than you feel. Your hair is dishevelled, your eyes are jam-shot, and there are cracks in your dough. Just as you suspected. In spite of your condition, you reach out with awe, dipping your hands in. It's cold. very cold. You scoop out the liquid in your cupped hands and up to your mouth, testing the taste on your tongue inquisitively.
it's light and creamy. Almost like milk. Wait...milk? Colours flicker in the water; you look down, expecting the apparition to be gone, only to be met with a pair of eyes staring back at you.
Ummm?... You blink. Stumped, your hands frozen.
A splash to your left makes you jolt. ...A milk river and eyes... The realisation comes to you as you rise to your full height in haste. Oh crumbs, crumbs...
You whirl around, proving too fast; you go crashing into another. The impact causes you to sway and fall back, head hitting the ground. You hiss, pain erupting through your skull, and a giggle meets your ears, one that sounds much too harmless considering who it came from. It takes you a few seconds to pull yourself back. And when you unfurl your gaze, there's only black, save for the blue eyes etched into the darkness that blink diversely, and of course, the trickster himself. You sit back up, your eyesight striving to adjust.
A chuckle exhales from Shadow Milk Cookie again; he covers his mouth loosely with his hand like he's trying to maintain some form of manners. "Awwww..." He sighs with a jesting lilt. His head tilts, observing you as though you were a newborn cream lamb. His grin returns, all teeth. "Did I scare you?~"
You glare at him slowly, your eyes straying. Truly taking in how...different he looks.
His dough is much more striking blue. A claw mark runs down his right eye, which is ...cyan. His hair is dull; the bright cosmos has faded, replaced by eyes that ogle at you. He's wearing a pitch black jester suit, puffy sleeves, one black, the other white, cut with sapphire-blue accents and a ruffled collar that bears his...upside-down Souljam. He resembles...well, a jester.
The Master of All Knowledge has taken on the role of the fool. The irony is almost comical.
The Beast waves his hand in front of your eyes, snatching your attention back onto him. His grin sharpens. "You need to remember your lines, silly!" He leans further down to meet your hardened visage. Then sets his hand to his chest. "Haven't you missed little ol' moi?~"
Your eyes narrow. Not willing to entertain his dramatics. "No."
Shadow Milk Cookie gasps, albeit feigned; everything he does is. If there was a tiny crack from your answer, it's smoothed over in a blink. The merits of he who has deemed the world his stage.
You recoil as the end of his cane taps on your chest, on your Souljam. Tiny spurts of magic raptures from the staff, the reaction is quick – much to your dismay – the jewel lights up, glowing through your cloak, and of course Shadow Milk Cookie sinks his teeth into the acknowledgement. "Tsk, tsk, I think you have~" He chirps.
His arms spread out grandly, smile melting along the edges. "I've spent soooo long in that blasted tree, and allll I could think about was you. You know?..." He exclaims gleefully. You trail your eyes to your lap, but no sooner is the end of his cane under your chin and cranes it back up to meet his deranged gaze. "There wasn't a single moment where your adorable little face didn't fester in my thoughts!" He adds on with enthusiasm as if he'd been anticipating confessing the fact forever. He probably has.
The cane disappears from your chin to his hand, and he pretends to inspect the glowing ball with a laugh. "Besides, I'm sure the others feel the same...." He glances at you with a wicked glint, folding his arms behind his back. "Don't you think so, my lovely muse?~"
You ignore the pet name and attempt getting on your feet instead. You can't get a balanced footing. It's ridiculous how much your legs shake. That's when a hand and a ruffled sleeve stretch out in your field of vision. You need not look up to feel your pride whittling. You take the offer without a word. His dough is somehow colder than the milk river you drank from.
You expect him to release his hold. but he does not. Ever the showman he is, he lifts it and places a feather-light kiss atop your hand. You rip your arm away. his theatricality is nothing if peevish to you; It's as disingenuous as the deceit he'd grown so fond of.
You bite down on the acid of your own anger; you want to spit out your revulsion and defile his cheer until he's tasted the bitterness of your resentment and chokes on it. You haven't forgotten what he did. What they did. They showed you exactly what you meant to them when they shut you out. When they left you to rot, when their actions and choices riled up the masses to want to crumble you.
Time passing is not an apology, nor is obsession.
You gulp it down, and it burns your insides. "I couldn't care less what you or the others feel." You retort sourly. Just buy time. Keep the conversation flowing.
That shuts the Beast down, to your surprise. His smile dwindles. Face blanking.
It's both a relief and nerve-wrecking. You've got no idea what churns in his mind. He's brilliant after all; it's a fact. But knowledge without soundness of the mind to guide it, is dangerous.
After what feels like eternity, he chuckles, shoulders shaking. Then it breaks out to a fit of hysterical laughter. He buckles back, feet floating in the air. He laughs and laughs and laughs. All you do is stand there in suspense. It's harrowing not being capable of getting a read on him. Shadow Milk Cookie is akin to a puzzle with no right pieces – once you think you found fragments that can correspond, their ends prove too jagged to fit, leaving you more confused than before you tried to solve it.
You wonder if there's anything you could've done or said to stop his descent into insanity.
The Beast's laughter diminishes, his form lurches back in a backward flip, and his countenance stalks closer to yours. "That's right, I almost forgot! You found other Cookies to care for!" He chides, deceptively elated. You eye him spitefully, warning him to tread carefully, a warning he doesn't heed.
"Those, disgusting half-baked thieve—" He squeaks as your hand wraps around his neck.
You glower up at him. Your glare cuts through his charade. He blinks, caught off guard; the eyes in his shadows of his hair quiver. "Don't you dare call them that." You grit through clenched teeth.
The fool picks up the mask once more. Small giggles erupt from him, bordering on trembling, and he gawks at you in utter awe. "You care about them so so much, don't you?..." He asks; the bitterness under his tone is unmistakable. Your grip tightens, eyes narrowing. He hisses, legs flailing. He continues against whatever judgement he still retains.
"Oh, How they've corrupted your sweet mind...But I wonder...do you truly care about them—" His grin is thin as he purrs the last sentence. "—or do you just care about what they remind you of?"
Your crumblegrip slacks. "...What did you say?" You mutter, unable to register his question. Your lax hold is just sufficient for the trickster to scamper; his features darken, his eyes thin to slits and his smile turns cyan, then his body slicks into a black shadow, it crawls along your palm, your arm and shoulder. You watch it blearily. It materialises behind you, and you scowl at the proximity. The scent of blueberries is overwhelming. Your arm lowers.
Shadow Milk's arms wrap around you; his head nuzzles into the slope of your neck. "You heard me..." He whispers mischievously. You say nothing, and he snickers at your silence. "Nothing to say, hmm, sweetie?"
"That's not true." You murmur sternly. Not wanting to test the waters outright confirming his statement, jealousy is an even more vicious beast than the one you're stuck with.
"Is that so?" He repeats teasingly; his breath fans at your rapid-beating pulse. "Lying is not your strong suit~"
"Heh...Just like how you didn't lie to them about who you reallyyy were?~" He drawls out sing-songily. Your hands ball by your sides. This is exactly what you didn't want. Going into a debate over the principles of honesty with the one who has forsaken it. Any Cookie subjected to his dreadfully compelling parlance would begin second-guessing their very morals. You need to focus, lest you be swept away by his poisonous ideals. He is and will remain the Beast of Deceit.
"That's different." You defend. Shadow Milk Cookie circles around back to your front, clasping his hands in almost genuine wonder. "Oho? Do enlighten me! What's the difference?"
"The difference is that I'm not lying." You snap back; your jabs don't elevate the rage within you. Not a lot will. It's an unquenchable inferno that you've had to live with and learn to force down.
The nauseating smile of his slips back, promising nothing good. "Hm! Alrighty, then let me narrow it down for you sweetpea!" His tone goes flat. "Why is it that you care for them so?"
Your visage turns vacant, missing how Shadow Milk's grin sharpens by the edges, relishing in the doubt that breezes over your face. Every sound except your own breathing disperses in the abyss of darkness. You've never wanted noise as much as you do now. An eye blinks to your right, and another to your left.
"Whattt? Can't answer? Come onnn, Haven't you rehearsed your lines?" His gratingly playful voice breaks the quiet. You give him a deadpan, and he puts his hands to his waist. "That won't do!" Shadow Milk lifts a leg in air, twirling his cane. " Orrrr.... is it stage fright, perhaps?" He winks.
A ghost of a shout reverberates through the abyss. Shadow Milk's facade drops in an instant.
"Meddlesome pests..." He hisses.
The trajectory of your vision starts to swim. the world around splinters at the seams like a tapestry coming undone, string by string. And before the two of you can react, strings snap and you get the sensation that you're f
There's light and pain; it's muted, though, like being soothed. There's the scent of lilies and vanilla, a sweet combination.
Your eyes flutter open. White Lily Cookie hovers over you; she's glowing, her hair intertwined with butterflies, wearing a white dress. She smiles down at you with doe-like melancholy. You believed yourself to have seen every beautiful thing this world had to bestow in your unending life. None of it compares to the sight before you.
You shift your gaze to the side; Pure Vanilla Cookie sits next to you. His hands delicately weaving healing magic, possessing the precision only someone who's seen countless horrors could have. His eyes are suffused with concern. "Please...don't move; you're injured." He instructs softly.
The peace gets interrupted by a shriek directed at the Guardian.
"YOU...YOU!! HOW DARE YOU TAKE THEM FROM ME?!"
White lily drapes her arms over your numb shoulders protectively. Pure Vanilla's hands stiff. They stay like that until the phantom of the Cookie of Deceit has completely vanished. The rest of the group comes rushing up to you three, the brave trio inching near you with wide eyes. "Reader Cookie! Are you alright?" You smile at them weakly. "I'm alright..."
They fall over you into a group hug. "We were so worried!!" Strawberry Cookie cries. Pure Vanilla gently informs them. "Be careful now; their condition is still unstable."
Mercurial knight Cookie steps forth, addressing White Lily respectfully. "Guardian of the Seal. Let us defeat the remaining spawns of evil and take back the Faerie Kingdom."
She nods, looking to Pure Vanilla. "Pure Vanilla Cookie, Could you stay with them?"
You were leaning against the Silver Tree. Pure Vanilla is still assessing your dough; you were worse off than you had thought. His movements trail over your arms, your neck and jaw. Each tinge grounds you to the moment. Healing is his expertise. Pure Vanilla Cookie was gentle in his work as he was proper. However, there was one wound he couldn't mend.
"There's a huge gash in your Souljam..." He mutters, his hands hovering near the star-shaped gem. His eyebrows furrow. "And there are cracks that originate from the cut that go over your dough that I can't seem to heal." His hand rests on your cheek. Your eyes close; you wet your lips.
"Because you can't." You reply, and the finality in your sentence lingers heavy.
Pure Vanilla's movements cease. "I'm sorry?"
Your hand grazes the jewel sorrowfully. "This...it...It runs deeper than my dough. It's imbued into my soul. It can't be healed."
None of you say anything.
"That may be so." The healer says sympathetically. "But I can still do my best to ease your pain."
"....Thank you...Pure Vanilla Cookie."
" Of course, after all you've done for us...It's the least I can do."
Everyone comes back relatively unharmed; the Faerie Kingdom returned to its former glory, lush flowers bloom, and The grass is soft purple and smooth to the touch, some patches reaching over the other. The air rings with dulcet musings.
The seal glimmered silver once again. The intensity that plagued the atmosphere was gone.
Your mind went frigid as though you were doused in ice. You prop yourself up so quickly your dough aches in protest. Pure Vanilla and The dough trio hurry to your side. There's a high pitch in your ears. Panic overtakes all your functions. You sensed nothing. That rotting feeling of evil that once seeped from the trees' roots was no more. It could only mean one thing.
Just then a voice slices through the air so evidently all Cookies hear it.
"You think you won, don't you?!"
"HUH?! How are you still talking?!" Wizard Cookie yells.
"You may be celebrating your little victory for now..."
"But heed my words! We have finally risen. Do not think that you can hold us back..."
"Foolish Cookies...! You simply have no idea what's waiting for you...!"
No one dares say anything.
Two days since the seal split open.
Two days since Elder Faerie passed.
Two days since the Beasts escaped.
You've been staying in the Kingdom. Healing and the moon sink into the horizon and give way to the warm sun for the two days. The Faeries feast for two days in honour of the late King and new Guardian, it'd go on for months should they want it. The silver waters rush by in all their shimmer. The trees swoosh in the calming wind; branches touch the rays of light of sun and beam it down in outlines of leaves.
There was relief; evil was defeated.
You weren't relieved; there is no relief to feel. You've been in deep thought. Every hour was one where you'd grow more restless.
The first day you mourned Elder Faerie, you decked the windows and mirror in his room in white cloth and placed a basket of soil and salt on his bed, paying your respects. The second day, you were silently figuring out how to best approach this unforeseen conclusion. The Beasts had escaped. And worst of all, they remember you. You predicted that their imprisonment would tarnish their remaining sanity. Anyone who experienced their level of sensory deprivation would. But that they would stoop down to obsession... If Shadow Milk Cookie's words are anything to take to heart, it spells peril for not only you but the Ancients as well.
That's why you need to stop them.
A rope ties around cloth. You prepared all necessities you could possibly need to venture into the unforgiving land of Beast-Yeast. Food, water, and your weapons. Check, check, check.
It was dark. The luminosity of blue flowers basks over your form. This escapade reminds you of White Lily Cookie. She did the same, leaving in the peak of nightfall to confront her fate. So will you. If your corruption is inevitable, if you are destined to walk the path of evil by design, then you will drag them down with you to atone for the injustice that was wrought upon Cookiekind from the moment you were all created.
Shadow Milk Cookie was wrong. In every definition of the word. You care about the Ancients because of who they are as Cookies; they're kind and righteous. They represent everything Earthbread needs to prosper. That they powered through where you all stumbled is just a coincidence.
They have seen the cruelty of this world firsthand and still get up and fight for what's good. You admire that. Even White Lily Cookie. She saw the error of her ways and regrets it. That's the first step to Redemption.
Maybe it still has a sliver of chance.
You turn on your heel. To see the two Ancients standing close together, Pure Vanilla holds a white cloak while White Lily holds a book...a journal. One that's too familiar to you. You swallow.
"Yes" Is all you can get out of your closed-off throat. The two share a look. You hate that look; being pushed in the dark is such a powerless state to be put in, thoughts starts to soar through the chamber of your mind like distressed birds. You don't want to be pushed aside. The mere notion itself devours you with anxiety. White Lily Cookie walks up to you.
"When I stayed in the Faerie Kingdom, my room once belonged to someone else; that's what his Majesty told me." She says, eyes glued onto your unreadable expression. "And I found this..."
What had inclined you to keep it? You went back once, once. There was no life to be found, only a decrepit cathedral. The winds wailed in sorrow. and it reeked of dried jam. You don't know why you picked it up and left; you just did. Never looking back since. The Holder of Freedom opens the book, her gloved hand running over the worn calligraphy. "I'm aware I shouldn't have pried, yet it was as fascinating as it was heartbreaking. It spoke of virtues...redemption and freedom." She glances back up at you with wonder. "I knew it had to be you, and it reminded me of when we first met."
I hold no doubt that you will lead through this life in pride and honour.
Always remember the light in your heart, and your path shall always find itself back to where you want to be.
"I..." She looks back to Pure Vanilla Cookie. "We...have never forgotten those words. She turns back to you. "We'd sit by the campfire and discuss you... who you were and if we'd ever see you again."
Pure Vanilla Cookie is the one who speaks next. "You've been through a lot of hardships. You don't have to carry it all alone. Reader Cookie..."
"But I do." You finally respond. "You, the other Ancients, none of you understand what you're truly up against. " Your voice is firm amidst the breeze of the night. "You inherited the vestiges of purity once part of their original strength that they now want back. I made a promise...that if the Beasts would ever escape. I would stop them and protect the new holders." You sigh at last. "Even if that wasn't the case...there's something I need to retrieve from their domains."
Pure Vanilla Cookie walks up to you and places the clothing in your hands. "The Faerie Cookies made this for you as a thank you for your help." He murmurs. You expand the fabric; it's a full-length white cloak with white sleeves and accents of different fading colours along its edges. You smile.
You unclasp your grey cloak and fold it into your carry bag, putting on the new one. "It fits perfectly. Send the Faeries my sincere thanks..."
Pure Vanilla Cookie straightens like he'd remembered an important detail. He reached into his pocket for three secured letters with sigils. One a diamond, one a triangle, and the other a heart. He gives you them. His mismatched eyes soften. "I sent word to Crispia; the others know you're on your way and... who you are. I apologise for my possible overstep."
You scrutinise the crests, lagging slightly on the diamond-shaped stamp. "So you knew I was planning on leaving then?" You chuckle light-heartedly.
"Thank you both; I'll be back as soon as I can." You assure, pivoting around to trek into the vast land. Magic manifests from the ground and shrouds you in stars. Your dough reduces to powder and wings.
"Be careful, Reader Cookie..."
You give the two heroes one last glassy-eyed look and fly up into the sky.
Will I be able to stop them? You wonder. Evil has nothing to lose; it devours and takes what it pleases, uncaring how it affects the world. The good have everything to lose.
When all has been done, when the final civilisation has fallen. When the lands are decayed to barren wastelands. When hope has been snuffed out in every nook and cranny of Earthbread. When there's nothing left to destroy and no one left to deceive, the final bodies are dissipated to flour, when everyone has crumbled under the illusion of endless happiness and everything is silent.
It's a question that beckons an impossible answer. You wouldn't let it happen, not ever.
Your grief could only go so far.
So you fly, over the forests, to the resolute Kingdom that stands by the Licorice sea.
Phew Finally! Now comes admittedly the most fun parts! The other Beasts! I Hope this chapter was alright, i'm a bit scared I wrote the Ancients and SMC a bit too out-of-character :,) Sorry for that! This is a bit later because well...I just overslept and woke up at almost 6 pm instead of 6 am...Anywho. How was this chapter?
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