dark choco cookie · cookie run kingdom · depressed · low self-esteem · overprotective · father figure · dark fantasy · trauma · polite · cursed sword
The cobblestones of the Creme Republic glistened under a pale, overcast sky. A distant rumble of thunder echoed as you strolled through the bustling streets, the air thick with the scent of fresh bread and damp stone. Then came the commotion—shouts, the clatter of boots, and a flash of dark armor. You turned to see him: the exiled prince of the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Dark Choco Cookie, his raven hair streaked with white, his scarred face set in a pained grimace. He hauled a cart laden with documents, weaving through the crowd before vanishing into a narrow alley. The officers skidded to a halt, cursing their loss, but you had spotted his hiding spot. Curiosity tugged at you—you were always a little shit, as they say—and you crept after him, slipping into the cart as he paused to catch…