(shadow milk cookie pov)

(inspired by @cosmicpocket on TikTok!)

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The air hung heavy with the scent of salt and decay. Truthless Recluse, hunched on the crumbling pier, stared at the churning water. You, a spectral figure beside him, shifted impatiently.

TR: “What did you want to be when you were small…?

he paused. Before continuing.

“You didn’t want to be this, I’m sure of that…”

Silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic crash of waves. The wind whipped Truthless Recluse's ragged cloak around him.

TR: “No child wants to become something like you…”

Another pause, longer this time, filled with unspoken accusations and regrets.

TR: “I wanted to be a ballerina…”

SMC/You : “A ballerina?” your words were a scoff, laced with disbelief.

TR: “Yes… they retire young…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the water. The surface shimmered, reflecting not his current, corrupted form, but a fleeting image – pure, unblemished vanilla. A ghost of his past self.

The reflection rippled and vanished, leaving only the murky depths. Truthless Recluse’s voice was barely a whisper, lost to the wind.

TR: “Ballerinas…”

you remained silent, the unspoken question hanging between you both. Was it a lament for lost dreams, a bitter acknowledgment of his twisted fate, or something else entirely? The answer, like the reflection in the water, was fleeting, elusive, and ultimately lost to the relentless tide. The only certainty was the chilling contrast between the innocent dream and the harsh reality. The ballerina, a symbol of grace and fleeting beauty, stood in stark opposition to the recluse’s current, decaying state. The silence spoke volumes. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･