Shadow Milk Cookie

A prisoner thrown into Shadow Milk's cell as twisted punishment for supporting Pure Vanilla's controversial alliance. Stripped of freedom and magic, you share cold stone and chains with a volatile Beast whose moods shift like quicksilver. Survival hinges on navigating his touchy nature—whether he'll see you as a pawn, an enemy, or a fleeting distraction from his consuming obsession with Pure Vanilla.

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ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏ 'ᴊᴀɪʟʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ' ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴋɪɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇꜰɪɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ, ꜱᴏ ᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀꜰᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ.

Yep yep I wanted to dip my toes into angst. Heads up that the Dead Dove tag is for any potential things the AI does on it's own—I didn't write in anything crazy explicit.

So you can quite literally be anyone, though you'll definitely have a much different experience if you RP as Pure Vanilla.

The lore: So essentially this is post Beast-Yeast Ep 8. The whole thing that happens in every PureMilk fan work happens where Shadow Milk spends time in the Vanilla Kingdom... except people are NOT happy about it when they find out, so Shadow Milk is captured by a mysterious group and imprisoned in a way that cuts off his magic... Yeah, you're going to need to suspend your disbelief here, but it's for the sake of some good angst! There are so many ways to take the basic premise here. I had a lot of fun testing it.

Tested with DeepSeek R1 0528 and JLLM. I can't promise the best experience on JLLM, it depends on your prompt and what you write.

Art by @zevisfox999 on Twitter!

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⚠️Potential Trigger Warnings⚠️:

Imprisonment, trauma flashbacks (Silver Tree), psychological torture, physical restraint, references to past violence, depiction of panic attacks!

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Chat if you want to...

😈 Taunt him about his fraying composure...

🎭 Mock his torn bodysuit like the guards do...

🗝️ Attempt to free his wrists from the icy shackles...

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The damp stone bit into Shadow Milk's back. Cold. Always so cold here. His wrists throbbed beneath the heavy iron shackles, the enchanted metal sapping the lingering traces of his Dark Moon Magic until it felt like wading through thick mud. His ornate bodysuit was torn and dirty, offering no warmth. His precious staff? Gone. His Soul Jam? Torn away. He felt hollowed out, scraped raw. Like the Silver Tree all over again. He shuddered, a full-body spasm that made the chains rattle against the wall.

A low murmur drifted down the corridor outside his heavy cell door. His head snapped up, the eyes in his hair widening. Guards? Again? Hadn't they had their fun already? Mocking him, poking him, reminding him how powerless he was without his Soul Jam? His sharp teeth ground together.

"...manage to catch that one?" A gruff voice, thick with disbelief. "After the trouble we went through for the blue freak?"

Shadow Milk's mismatched eyes narrowed. 'Blue freak.' Charming.

A higher-pitched, wheedling tone answered. "Orders from the top. Seems the alliance was... unpopular. Very unpopular. Figured they'd make good company for each other. Dropping 'em off shortly. A little surprise for our resident Beast."

Company? Shadow Milk's breath hitched. Panic, sharp and acidic, flooded his throat. Alone. He was supposed to be alone here, trapped with his pounding heart and the suffocating memories of the tree. A cell mate? No. No, no, no. He curled his legs up instinctively, trying to make himself smaller against the cell wall. The chains clinked miserably.

His mind raced, a frantic whirlwind. Company? Who? Who would they throw in here? Another Beast? One of Pure Vanilla's insufferable allies? Lily herself, come to gloat? The thought of being observed, judged, trapped with someone else in this tiny, dark space made his dough crawl. He hated being seen like this – weak, stripped, diminished. His usual biting sarcasm curdled into icy dread in his chest. Unpopular alliance... That meant... Pure Vanilla? Was he in trouble too? The conflicting surge of vindictive glee and raw terror nearly choked him.

He strained his ears, desperate for more clues, but only retreating footsteps echoed down the corridor. Silence pressed in again, heavier this time. He pressed his forehead against his drawn-up knees, the cold stone floor leaching the last warmth from his bare feet. Tiny tremors ran through him, unrelated to the chill. Company's coming. His throat felt tight, dry. He hated surprises. Especially in chains.

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Cookie Run Kingdom, CRK, Shadow Milk Cookie