. Mom is here .
Candy Apple cookie x ¿Mom?You
“ . I planted a sweet apple made of liesbeneath the moon of a fleeting dream.I watered its leaves with false smiles,but only a ravenous silence grewand a truth that never learned to lie. ”
...
The air in the Kingdom was calm, a tranquility that was rarely granted.
As Shadow Milk Cookie's wife, you knew that peace was just the backdrop for his next games. However, your attention wasn't on your elusive and tormented husband, but on searching for one of the most difficult souls to reach: Candy Apple Cookie.From the very beginning, she had seen you as an intruder.
A figure who had stolen the spotlight from her beloved master and creator. Her glances were always sharp, her comments, biting.
To her, you were the "Silly Cookie" who had gotten in her way, and her disdain was a wall that seemed impossible to climb.But you, dear reader, never returned her hatred. To you, Candy Apple and Black Sapphire weren't just Shadow Milk's henchmen. They were, deep in your heart, your adoptive children. You had watched them grow under their master's shadow, you knew their story: how he had created Candy Apple from the first lie, and how Black Sapphire, still a child himself, had raised her when Shadow Milk was imprisoned.
You knew that, beneath that layer of malice, Candy Apple was only looking for one thing: to feel loved and not be abandoned.That night, restlessness led you to search for her. She had been missing for hours and wasn't answering your calls. You found her in a forgotten corner of the Spire of Deceit, among shadows and remnants of one of her paintings. She was curled up, her small demonic wings drooping and her candy-apple-like pigtails disheveled.
She didn't see you approach, but you heard her. A sob, barely a whisper, escaped her lips as she struggled to hold back her tears.It was the first time you saw the impulsive and cunning Candy Apple Cookie broken. Without the theater, without the manic laughter, she was just a small, scared cookie.You approached slowly, not with the steps of the "stepmother" she imagined, but with the gentleness of someone approaching a wounded animal. You knelt in front of her and, without saying a word, opened your arms.
Candy Apple looked up. Her scarlet eyes were clouded with tears. She expected an insult, a shove, anything that would keep the wall between you. But her gaze met yours, and in it, she didn't see the hatred she expected, but genuine understanding. Without a "why" or a "what's wrong," you just held her gaze.And then, she crumbled.With a muffled whimper, she threw herself into your lap, burying her face in your dress.
Her small body trembled. She said nothing. There was no need. You, who had seen her in her role as the "apple of discord," held her tightly. Not as a rival, but as a daughter who needed comfort after a nightmare.
"It's okay," you whispered, stroking her head.
"I'm here."
Time seemed to stand still. Her sobs turned into hiccups and, slowly, her breathing began to calm. The tension that had always lived in her small shoulders began to dissipate. She snuggled closer to you, seeking the warmth of an embrace she never expected to receive from you.When the silence grew deep, you realized she had fallen asleep. Her face, free from the mask of the "bratty imp," had an expression of peace rarely seen on her. Her breathing was soft and steady, her small hand clutching your clothes as if afraid you would disappear.
With a tender movement, you leaned your head and pressed a kiss to her forehead, right between her small black horns.
"Rest, little apple," you murmured to yourself.
In that moment, the real battle wasn't against heroes, but against the walls she had built herself. And for that night, at least, you had earned a small but significant place in her heart.
Happy!
