My Fair Lady (Dark Cacao Cookie x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 30

If you told me I was going to stick with this fanfiction for 30 chapters (6 months), I would have had a hard time believing you. But here we are. Thank you so much for reading <3

Silly late reminder to GET YOUR CRK BTS CONCERT TICKETS! Do it RIGHT NOW. That's an order.

"Don't you even think about doing this," Milk Bread begged, her eyes shadowed with fear.

The cookie gave no signs of pity nor hesitation whenever his hand gripped something he had prepared. "Your mistakes have consequences, Milk Bread."

"It wasn't personal, I swear! PLEASE DON'T!"

But it was too late. His hand was already coming down. Fast. The object between his grip—a sharp edge—flashed right before her eyes as she watched it pummel down, closer, closer, closer...

"I've got king of spades versus your five of hearts, I win," he chuckled deviously.

Milk Bread watched as he scooped up her final card. Their card game of War, which had been going on for what felt like ages, had finally drawn to a close. She had fought hard to keep her precious stack in her hands. But alas, karma was not on her side that morning. The deck of cards they had received from one of the soldiers who guarded the dungeons was under his full control at that point.

"I guess I'll be keeping these cards, after all," he said, shuffling them neatly before setting them aside on the dirt. The candle that was placed between them flickered as if it were laughing at Milk Bread.

"I'm sure he'll reclaim them again if you told him how cocky you were being whenever you won," she reminded him, rolling her eyes.

"It's been a while since I've won something, besides a first class ticket to death. Why should I hold back?"

Milk Bread's eyes lowered when she waded on his words. A first class ticket to death. Her mind felt like it was sinking, drowning, unable to keep up from the powerful waves of eternal punishment battering her beneath the surface.

"...Milk Bread? Milk Bread!"

Her eyes snapped back to his, the concerned expression of the cookie's face appearing ghastly like the face of death itself. Once again she subconsciously recoiled from him.

"Milk Bread! Hey! What's wrong?" the cookie stumbled over to her, firmly gripping her arms to try to get her attention. At that moment one of the guards had rushed over, peering into the cell with curious eyes.

She gasped for a second, resurfacing, and jolted between his arms, though she still felt sickly cold from being beneath the waves for so long. His shadowy figure loomed before her, and though it was intimidating, lulled her back to where she was. The soldier huffed before wandering back to his station.

"I don't know why I'm becoming like this, Rum Cake cookie I-" those words burnt her throat to say.

"You're still accepting the fact you're here with us, I know. We've all done awful things to earn this fate. I was just like you when I was thrown in here years ago," he said, slowly relaxing his grip on her. "It's so hard the first few months but then you lose all care in the world. There's no way out of here, so why should you act like you'll make it out alive? Enjoy your final time here being yourself."

Her breathing evened, and she looked back to him. "I- I've done some awful things, Rum Cake. I can't deny it any longer. There's just this weight on my shoulders that I can't get off unless I tell someone."

"I've met cannibals and murders, you can admit to me anything you'd like," he reassured her.

"You promise me? I swear I regret doing what I did-"

"I will, I promise, just take a deep breath," he murmured.

"Okay... okay... please don't hate me after this."

———

After closing up for the day, the woods working cookie left his shop to take a walk down to the bakery to get some loaves for the next day. He scrounged up the coins he had earned from his aimless meeting with the foreign cookie, and swung the bag heartily like a schoolgirl. He and his son would be eating some of the finest loaves.

Most of the streets were emptied. A tradition was brewing that everybody would be back inside of their homes at a curfew by midnight in respect for the royals and their search for the prince. It was a strange one indeed, but what did a mindless, sheltered little village know about paying respect?

Heading closer to the bakery, the cookie quickly clutched his bag firmly as he passed down the dark alleyways of the finer parts near to the palace. His eyes turned upwards to see the palace up ahead.

From what he could see, the castle that looked over the city was just in his range of vision, specifically the tower of the royal advisor that stood tall near the western side of the palace. It was so high up that the clouds had no choice but seem to accept it's abrupt presence in their vicinity. All they could do was graze past the pointy roof like a split wave.

One of the clouds seemed to swirl a little bit more than the others, circling around the spire. At first the boy thought it was just another windstorm kicking up after the blizzard. But he suddenly saw something down between the thick curtains, a dark form cutting through the waves like a shark fin. He stopped for a moment to take a better look, curious.

Suddenly more spines grew from the clouds. One, two, three... ten. He counted in his mind.

The swirling stopped abruptly as the spines focused onto the roof of the tower, perching a large body on top. Those weren't spines... they were claws. Claws of something big.

The young cookie stood there, frozen, watching as the narrow snout of a toothy grin reveal itself. It grazed the tiles, sniffing closer, but snorting after a few moments where it seemed to grow annoyed at something. Black and white crumbs from it's flaky skin tumbled out of the sky as the shape of wings formed beneath the veil of the clouds, lifting the beast back up into the air once more, the sky swallowing it whole.

Oh. My. Witches.

Dumbfounded and horrified, the cookie tripped backwards, falling hard. All he could do was stare in shock and in disbelief. Did I just see..?

It couldn't be. They were just a bunch of myths, fairy tales in fact, nothing more. There couldn't be any alive at that point. But his eyes were saying otherwise. He would have to tell his son what he saw, he was the best cookie to report about this. But even then, he doubted himself. It was such an odd thing to claim was reality.

"...a dragon?"

Word count: 1110