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Never is the Bringer of Happiness willing to admit when she’s unhappy— because she never is, and that is the simple truth. Unhappy is a word completely unavailable in her own dictionary. She does not feel unhappy. Not in the past, not in the present, and certainly not in the future.
The better word she would use is “neutral”, or perhaps even “distracted”. Not Happy, exactly, but never venturing near stressed or upset or anxious. Such negative emotions are beneath her, and always will be.
However, she has been feeling particularly… distracted lately. She can never focus on a particular thought without spinning it around, tangling itself in her other thoughts until she unravels the knots, and discovers the very center of every clump.
Hollyberry Cookie.
The name is the only coherent thought she has these days. An everlasting, repetitive thing resisting the tugging bringing it near her jewelry box, just as lively and persistent as the Cookie it belongs to.
Before this long, sacred night, the Goddess would’ve considered it a blessing. Thinking of her other half all day long, resting on a cotton candy cloud, hopeful dreams clinging to her slumber as promises of the waking future…
Hand and hand in marriage, an ever-thriving paradise, a unity so great their dough finally melts into one. Fruitiness and sugar, mixed into one overwhelmingly sweet flavor. Now, however— now it’s little more than an aching, pulsing ickiness at the very center of every thought she has.
Inconceivable and repetitive, she’s all the Goddess has been able to think about— from the very moment she was caught beneath that Hero’s shield. A helpless little doe in the jaws of a lion, saved from crumbling debris and left to dream forever more, yearning for a touch she might possibly never have.
Indeed, this is an endless cycle of distraction and distance. Her own colleagues are growing annoyed with her. They groan and roll their eyes, repeating “We don’t desire to hear another one of your other half stories” as they always do. It’s almost offensive, truly, how quick they are to disrupt her moments of peace.
They’ve always insisted this little “obsession” of hers— as they call it— is “unhealthy”. A train of thought running on rails heaped with rocks and sticks, tumbling onwards even with the highest chance of derailing and crashing into the far beyond.
Before then, before today, Eternal Sugar Cookie would’ve disagreed with such a vile view. Her love is true and pure— it always has been, and it always will be. There is no debate about that, even if they desperately cling to scraps to deny their fated union.
Yet now… now it’s little more than a messy, complicated batch of emotions and feelings she can’t even begin to understand. Dastardly feelings, she will say, that squeeze her chest and make her eyes sting.
Hollyberry Cookie had said she would return, right to her face, so she has no choice but to believe her. There is no inch of doubt within her mind her other half will keep that promise. Even as days melt into weeks and weeks mutate into months, she’s confident Hollyberry Cookie will return. Just for her.
Everything Eternal Sugar Cookie has done has been just for her. Wouldn’t it be reasonable for Hollyberry Cookie to do the same to her?
She’s been thriving off that hope for so, so long, it grows draining after a time. A fragile little glass trinket, held up in a pedestal where everyone can admire— but with no container to keep it safe in, the elements grind it down, until at last it begins to chip and crack until there’s nothing but a pile of shattered glass.
The colors in her Garden seem duller. The berries taste sour. There is little more she desires to do other than rest in bed, and dream her little fears away. A dreamscape she can mold into what she desires most, with her other…
…Does she truly desire this? Truly?
She did. Witches, she did. She’s done so much just for the slightest chance to bring her and Hollyberry Cookie together. She had brought all of her citizens to the Garden just to make her Happier, and it failed spectacularly (and miserably). Even with it all, that stubborn Cookie still resisted her. How much does it take to resist a Goddess of Beauty?
The Bringer of Happiness never entertains such negativity. She never does, unless it crawls into her dough like a hungry parasite, worms eating at her muscles and bones until she’s nothing but a hollow husk.
Hollyberry Cookie had resisted her. Said no to her. She doesn’t want to be with her. Promises are such weak, fragile things, and speaking from experience with a certain wolf, just as breakable as a Cookie’s Happiness.
To Hollyberry Cookie, was she just a simpleminded Beast to be tamed? A snake showing its venomous fangs, just to falter at the mere sound of a flute? That shield and promise had placated her so easily, it…
Her fingers feel sore. Blinking out of her haze, Eternal Sugar Cookie finally grows aware of her own surroundings. It’s, of course, the hotel room the lovely pair of twins had led her into, personalized to her exact preference.
Pink and green walls patterned with hollow hearts, wooden furniture decorated with beautiful furs and perfected with little potted plants (she sees a tangy Venus flytrap on her dresser, and it chirps at her). The air smells of cinnamon and lavender, entwining together with every deep breath she takes. Her bed is the largest thing in the entire hotel room, decorated with fuzzy blankets and pelts, pillows and cushions fluffed up just the way she likes them. A canopy hangs right over her head, held up by the bed’s posts.
Snaking around the wooden bed posts are long, thorny vines, all of them a deep green, bundles of fresh grapes growing from them. Standing on her bedside table is a large glass bottle of aged berry juice, a pair of wine glasses positioned right beside them (odd, considering she wouldn’t dare allow Pavlova Cookie touch such a drink).
She’s draped in her soft, rosy pink bed robes, her lyre delicately placed on her lap. The tips of her fingers buzz, still pressed against the thin strings of her beloved instrument. She curls them, pressing against the cool, gold material of her lyre.
How easy it is to get distracted, these days. Just a little thought melts into hours spent staring at nothing but the mirror directly across from her, displaying her ruffled, distracted state in its full glory.
Sigh… she needs something else. Something that can get that Cookie out of her mind.
With little thought, Eternal Sugar Cookie sets her lyre aside, and reaches instead for the bottle on the table. It pops open without issue— it smells of cherry, perhaps even a little hint of pomegranate. She doesn’t bother reaching for a glass, preferring to tip the bottle back by itself. She nurses from it, unbothered by the room-temperature liquid that tips into her mouth. The velvet texture burns a trail down her throat, a certain acidicness that clings to her tongue.
She pulls the bottle away soon after, and discovers she’d drunk half the bottle— perhaps even more than that. She swallows once, and feels her throat squeeze around the heat. She sighs deeply, and sets the bottle aside. She’s no better than Hollyberry Cookie, is she?
The moment she thinks it, the Goddess groans in complete and utter detestation. Miserably, she flops against the mattress and spreads her limbs. Her tail hangs limply on the side of the bed. She sinks into it in a matter of seconds, the soft blankets and pillows warm against her dough.
Of course. She can never get far from the thought of her, can she? Everything is about Hollyberry Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie— just like the mindless, yearning creature even her own allies see her as. Pathetic, really. One might even dare say borderline tragic.
How much berry juice does it take to knock a Cookie unconscious? Back in her day, when her Soul Jam was whole, her body could handle drinking berry juice like it was water— every single day Cookies would flock to her with their offering cups, and she would be nice enough to sample all of them.
She’s already aware of their physical limitations (and the inability to capture her original beauty… bleh), so these Cookie-crafted bodies must be unable to handle such strong liquor. Perhaps she should drink more, until the entire bottle is empty.
Surely there’s more in the cabinets— berry juice was one of her special requests, after all.
There has to be enough for her to fully black out in this room, just… out of her direct reach. If not, she’ll just go to the lounge bar and drink until she falls unconscious (yes, the Jester has requested exclusive access to it, but she has never bothered to listen to such restrictive rules. She can drink herself to soggy dough for all they care). How long did it take for Hollyberry Cookie to pass out whenever she drank?
Eternal Sugar Cookie squeezes her eyes shut, and feels compelled to smother herself with one of her pillows. It all cycles back. All of it just cycles back to HER!
Why can’t she stop thinking about her? Why does her every subconscious thought have to be her? She can never experience a moment of true peace, or even have a moment all to herself and her own desires. How achingly hard her life can be when every little thing is just Hollyberry Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie, Hollyberry Cookie, Hollybe—
Eternal Sugar Cookie jolts out of her developing spiral as something pounds against the door. Her claws dig into her bed’s softened sheets, feeling compelled to simply ignore it.
Surely, she thinks, it isn’t that important. If it was, the Jester’s head would be poking into her room, wailing about her lack of attendance in whatever attendance meeting she’s forced to bring her presence to. Yes…
Assuming behind the force behind each knock, and the faint that she swore she heard cracking wood, it must be Burning Spice Cookie. While not necessarily as bothersome as the other option (cough, cough, Shadow Milk Cookie), and they do typically get along once one of them brings up the music they could be able to play together, he is still a Cookie she does not wish to see. As a matter of fact, she does not desire to see anycookie at the moment.
For all of the time she spends playing on her instruments (primarily her sacred lyre), there are moments where Eternal Sugar Cookie prefers a long, lingering silence. When it comes to moments of peace, the best Cookie to spend time with is Mystic Flour Cookie. Not necessarily because she isn’t a talker, but rather because her voice is quieter and less bothersome to deal with. Mystic Flour Cookie talking needlessly is bearable, her rants are adorable, and Eternal Sugar Cookie actually enjoys hearing her voice.
Burning Spice Cookie, on the other hand… he certainly— um… he certainly is one of a kind!
Truthfully, Eternal Sugar Cookie lacks the proper words to fully describe him (well, when it comes to his tamer personality— the best way to describe in his primal, destructive state is simply “brutish”). He tends to be unpredictable if battle and destruction isn’t involved (in the battlefield outside, when she falls for another one of his challenges, she can at least predict the moves he’d pull).
You never know if he’s going to be shouting his lungs out or mumbling like a half-conscious drunk— even still, most times it leans towards the former. There are only a handful of things he can possibly desire from her at this very moment, and none of them are something she’s willing to entertain in her state.
Coming upon a solution quickly enough, Eternal Sugar Cookie does not rise from her bed, even as that terrible fist continues to bang repeatedly against the door. He can never stay in one spot for long— if she ignores him long enough, he’ll grow bored and finally, finally leave her alone.
After a minute or two, the banging stops. Eternal Sugar Cookie still does not move, because she knows him. He is never truly gone unless he makes a show of leaving— typically by stomping away harshly enough to shake the ground. If not, he’ll simply come back later, and double his efforts into dragging her out of her bedroom.
Nothing happens. She doesn’t move, she merely lets the seconds whisk by.
A full minute tics. Then two. Complete and utter silence. It’s peaceful, having no noise or visual slop to bug her.
Eternal Sugar Cookie closes her eyes, the darkness beneath her eyelids soothing. That’s all she desires and all she needs. Just a moment. A single moment without—
Eternal Sugar Cookie violently jolts as something CRASHES against the hotel room door, wood shattering against the sheer force it’s forced to endure. Her claws rake across the bedsheets, tearing through them with ease, as waves of heat suddenly wash into her room.
The plants wilt in a matter of seconds, leaves and petals curling into themselves. The remaining juice in the bottle quickly begins to boil. A strong scent floods the room, irritating enough to itch at her nostrils. The ground itself seems to tremor under the Beast’s footsteps, the untouched wine glasses vibrating in place, one of them growing dangerously close to the edge. With another stomp, it promptly falls off, and shatters against the carpeted flooring.
Eternal Sugar Cookie winces at the noise, tail curling around her leg and squeezing until it feels numbs. A low, deep growl rumbles through the room, a large shadow looming over the corner of the room. A pair of orange eyes peer at her from that very corner, burning just as much as their body heat, pupils mere slits staring directly at her.
Her throat feels dryer than his deserts as she speaks, “…Hello, Burning Spice Cookie.”
“That doesn’t sound like Joy,” the Beast grunts before finally coming out of the shadows.
Truly a monster of a Cookie, looming several heads taller than even the tallest mortal Cookie. His muscles, thickly built and solid brick, bulge out with every step. Stripes streak across his deep crimson dough (it reminds her vaguely of a butter tiger), a thick mane of black hair stretching across his back, curling at the very end— just so it avoids touching the floor.
The Cookie’s face is vaguely feline-like, a pair of orange antennae sprouting from his skull, just long enough and angled in such a way to resemble horns. His maw is stretched in a wide, almost grotesque smile (a smile she would’ve once considered beautiful, centuries before). It exposes his teeth, coated thickly with gold, large and sharp and perfectly capable of tearing through dough without thought.
“Is the Bringer of Happiness losing her touch?”
“I can’t deal with you right now, Spice,” Eternal Sugar Cookie says, as gently as she can put it. Almost on instinct, she reaches for her lyre and tugs it back onto her lap (as if it would be torn apart if she left it in the brute’s gaze for far too long). “Can’t you simply allow me to wallow?”
“Hm!” Burning Spice Cookie ducks his head as he settles on her bed. The wooden bed frame immediately groans beneath his heavy weight, his body sinking deeply into the mattress. “Doesn’t look like wallowing to me. More like floundering in your own misery.”
Her face quickly scrunches up with distaste, a bitter taste thick in her mouth. “I don’t feel misery,” she says, voice hardened. “I feel neutrality. There’s a difference.”
Burning Spice Cookie snorts, his expression deeply amused. Eternal Sugar Cookie’s glare burns into his scorching dough, so he attempts to placate her with the most minimal of efforts. “Oh, yes, neutral,” he nods. “That’s the word I would use.”
“What’s your purpose here?” Eternal Sugar Cookie asks. Her tail finally loosens around her leg, merely in favor of thumping against the sheets, fast enough to elicit a constant rattling noise. “I don’t believe we have any words to share.”
Burning Spice Cookie shows his teeth to her with that sharp grin of his. “Not even any of your ‘other half’?”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s expression sours in an instant. Her upper lip pulls just high enough to display her fangs. “There’s something you and that Jester have in common,” she says through gritted teeth. “Only coming to talk when you need something.”
“Oh, no need to be so dramatic with me, Angel. There are moments where I choose to bear your ceaseless yapping.” The massive Cookie leans back, the frame woefully creaking with every move he makes. Putting all of his weight into his arms, he peers at her. “…but, yes. In this instance, I do want something.”
She rolls her eyes. “How shocking.”
“No need to be mouthy.” Burning Spice Cookie points towards the bottle of berry juice— still boiling. “Just a simple conversation between comrades. Surely you can survive, no?”
Eternal Sugar Cookie stares at it, pained, before finally reaching for it. The moment her fingers tap against the glass, the scorching heat bites harshly at her dough. She hisses as she yanks her hand away, violently shaking her hand just to soothe the burn. It buzzes unpleasantly, throbbing harder as time melts.
Burning Spice Cookie bellows out a laugh, reaching for the bottle of berry juice himself. He raises it up to his face, raising a brow at how empty it already is, before simply shrugging. He gulps it down within seconds, and carefully sets it back on the nightstand. The wood begins to smoke as the glass touches it, lazily curling in the air and reaching towards the ceiling. The bottle itself lit up a brilliant yellow-orange.
“But I may not be able to survive this unbearable heat,” the Goddess whines, her tongue flicking against the burnt finger in a weak attempt to soothe herself. Miraculously, the throbbing quieting down to a gentle pulse.
She uses her other hand to fan herself. Beads of sweat have already formed on her forehead, dripping down her face. “It feels as if my icing is melting off!”
“You’ll get over it,” Burning Spice assures, his voice already bored. “Now, let us get to the topic in mind…”
Eternal Sugar Cookie breathes a long, deep sigh, and feels compelled to slam the back of her head against the wall. She doesn’t. Rather, she grabs one of the blankets and drapes it over her legs.
“…Very well, then,” she says, halfheartedly plucking at the strings of her lyre. “Make it quick.”
“Another bottle, then.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie sighs even louder. Regardless, she summons another bottle full of berry juice with a simple hand, and he takes it appreciatively.
“You know…” Burning Spice Cookie pops open the bottle, and places the cork against the slowly-cooling bottle. “There’s something I’m sensing in you, Angel. Many, many things.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie quickly raises an eyebrow. Her tail flicks lazily. “Such as?”
“Complicated feelings, unnecessary yearning, the yearning for a lasting legacy…” Eyeing the shattered wine glass on the carpet, he waves a clawed finger.
The broken pieces rise into the air, spinning in lazy circles, until at last they stick together to reform its shape. It levitates over his hand before finally dropping into his open palm. He pours some of the berry juice into the glass, and hands it to her. She takes it slowly, staring at the crimson amber swirling within it. Her eyes droop shut, gathering her own means before tilting her head back, letting the juice trickle down her throat.
“…a little seedling of destruction deep in that chest of yours.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie chokes on the juice, clutching at her throat as she gags. Her fingers loosen around the glass, the amber spilling over and staining the white pelts and blankets. Burning Spice Cookie snatches the wine glass before it can fully land on the sheets, eyes only slightly widened as Eternal Sugar Cookie coughs and hacks into her elbow.
“I didn’t imagine it to be that drastic,” the Beast murmurs, handing the glass back to her as she pants. “Dramatic little thing you are.”
“ShhhhHHH-“ Eternal Sugar Cookie snatches the glass from Burning Spice Cookie’s hand, and flinches at how hot it’s gotten. Not hot enough to burn her (yet), but hot enough to make the amber bubble. “Quiet. Tarnish the thought. How blasphemous it is to say that TO MY FACE-“
A thick, clawed finger is pressed against her lips, hot and calloused. It shuts her up in an instant.
“Such an overreaction already,” he laughs, shaking his head.
Eternal Sugar Cookie huffs against his hand, her tail stretching over to slap his back. He grunts, but does not react beyond that.
“I don’t like destruction,” she says the moment she shoves his hand away, lowering her voice. “To even imply I would desire to harm another…”
“Ohhh. Don’t you know, little Angel?” He grins at her, his canines long enough to poke at his chin. “We all have seeds of destruction within us. It’s about time yours began to thrive.”
The rattling returns in an instant. “Brute,” she hisses through gritted teeth. She repeats, “I. Do. NOT. Like destruction.”
The Beast merely shrugs at her, reaching for the other glass and pouring out some berry juice for himself. Without asking, he adds more to Eternal Sugar Cookie’s cup. She takes it regardless.
“Well, some of us take a longer time to accept it,” he says before taking a swig of his drink.
Eternal Sugar Cookie quickly narrows her eyes, raising her tail just in preparation for needing to hit him again. “And that means what, exactly?”
“Oh, nothing that matters,” he says, chuckling lightly. He swirls his glass, admiring the way the amber moves within. “I just merely desired to propose something I believe you would quite enjoy.”
“If it involves your beloved violence,” she begins, her voice already thin. “I desire no part of it.”
“Allow me to set the deal first.” Burning Spice Cookie finishes the rest of his berry juice and pours himself another serving. He sets the bottle aside. “Something that shall benefit the both of us. Mutual gain, if you will.”
“You’ve completely avoided what I just said.”
“Ugh,” the Beast rolls his eyes before taking a swig of his drink. “Of course it involves a little destruction and violence. That’s the entire point.”
“Then I do not wa-“
“Angel, you’re doing everything except allowing me to share the details.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s feathers quickly puff up, tail lashing back and forth. “I’m not getting involved with something that includes destruction!”
“Foolish Cookie that you are,” Burning Spice Cookie grunts. “You hardly think on how this can benefit you. Don’t you want to see that precious other half of yours again?”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s body freezes in an instant. Her tail goes fully stiff, her feathers uneven and ruffled. She feels her fingers go slack on her wine glass, so she rushes to tighten her grip. The grass creaks loudly under the sheer pressure. “…Now what did you just say?”
“Your other half,” Burning Spice Cookie repeats with a sly grin. “Will you listen to me now?”
He already knows the answer. Like a snake to a flute, the Beast is placated at the first note of music.
“…Perhaps.” The word is awfully thick in her mouth. “My answer shall depend on the details you provide me.”
Now he has her full attention, simply using the title she’s given that soulmate of hers. All of her resistance reduced to an almost impatient silence… it’s almost pathetic.
Burning Spice Cookie doesn’t bother hiding the teeth in his smile. “Oh, believe me, you’ll love this one.”
Many more drinks were shared between them— the drinks seem to get sweeter with every bottle. Eternal Sugar Cookie’s mind has already begun to grow fuzzy. Nothing she can’t survive, but it’s deep enough to make thinking a bit slow.
Burning Spice Cookie’s glass is still half-full. How much has he drunk compared to her? He seems fully stable, merely sloshing the contents back and forth. Perhaps he’s simply a slow drinker. Eternal Sugar Cookie has never been a slow drinker…
“You know, Angel,” Burning Spice Cookie hums, bringing the glass up to his lips. His gulping is loud, and perhaps it would’ve annoyed her, had she been clearheaded. The sound merely bounces off her ears. “There is something we both desire very, very much.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie smacks her lips together. Her eyes feel unfocused as she stares down at her cup, and at the amber within. It doesn’t move. Perhaps it should.
“Such as?” She asks.
“Our other halves,” he says, short and simple. When Eternal Sugar Cookie raises her head to peer curiously at him, he continues. “For entirely different reasons, of course. You desire companionship and affection. While I…”
Burning Spice Cookie crushes his wine glass in his palm, the object shattering in mere seconds. The berry juice drips from his palm, almost as if he were bleeding, before seeping into the carpet below. “…I long for a proper rival to match me strike-for-strike, and only one Cookie has been able to exceed my expectations.”
Even with such an eerie comparison involving unnecessary jamshed, all Eternal Sugar Cookie desires to do is whine over him staining her carpets.
“However… that Cookie simply refuses to show her face to me.” The glass reforms in an instant, now stained with juice, dripping off the rim. “Every time I seem to grow near that project of hers, it seems as it the deserts themselves shift to draw me farther away.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie leans her head back, taking a long, deep breath. “And that involves Hollyberry Cookie how?”
“Is your soulmate not as resistant?” Burning Spice Cookie asks, raising his eyebrow. “You were so close to becoming one with her, and she slipped from your grasp. Even now, she stays far from your reach.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s wings slowly inch over her head, brushing against her halo as she hides beneath them. “Perhaps,” she says weakly. “But she promised to return. Under a compromise.”
“A compromise you may not ever be able to fulfill," he says. He pours more berry juice into his soaked mess of a glass. “She may never decide when you’re truly ‘redeemed enough’, you know. You can start a charity and donate to the peasants, but she might never consider you ‘redeemed’.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie closes her eyes. The newfound blackness soothes her, almost. “A lot of possibilities talk for something that is blatantly untrue.”
Burning Spice Cookie takes a small sip. “And how do you know it’s completely untrue?” He asks.
“She said she wo-“
“She said she would,” he nods his head. “Doesn’t mean she will.”
Her tail rises slowly. “…Are you saying Hollyberry Cookie is a liar?”
“I’m not saying anything.” Burning Spice Cookie raises both of his hands up in minor defense. “She may return, or she may not. I am merely offering you certainty over possibility.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie doesn’t respond, but she does open her eyes to peer at him finally, so he takes it as a sign to continue.
“You desire a partner. I desire a proper opponent. Yours shall not run into your arms unless it is her very last resort, and mine shall not dare leave her precious hoard if I am near it,” he asks, his face splitting into a sharp smile. His eyes glint in the faint light, meeting hers without faltering. “So, allow me to make a deal with you. I bring you the Hero, and you bring me my bird.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie lets it linger for only a heartbeat. “And how am I supposed to do that, exactly?”
“Well…” Burning Spice Cookie nudges his glass against hers. Eternal Sugar Cookie’s arm trembles as they touch. “That Passion of hers cannot burn if there is nothing to drive her onwards. Without a kingdom, without her family and friends and people, she’ll fall to her knees for you.”
No, she would not. She knows Hollyberry Cookie better than that. Eternal Sugar Cookie brings the glass up to her mouth and gulps down halfway. She breathes a sigh, and uses a different excuse instead. “There’s still the other Heroes.”
“Worry not about them,” he shakes his head. “They shall not get in the way. Believe me.”
There’s still the stain of doubt on her face, her lips pulled back. She lazily swirls the glass in her hand, bearing only a handful of seconds meeting his gaze before finally lowering her head.
“There’s a dragon in that kingdom,” she says. “Hollyberry Cookie is…” her voice falters in an instant, her throat quivering. Burning Spice Cookie raises an eyebrow at her, and she ignores it. “…close allies with them. They might pose a threat if you threaten their newfound ‘territory’.”
Burning Spice Cookie laughs, completely unbothered by the discovery of this threat. “Hah! Then it is about time I face a real challenge.” He pounds a fist against his breast. “An oversized lizard cannot crush the likes of ME!”
“No, of course they won’t…” Eternal Sugar Cookie mumbles with a roll of her eyes.
She doesn't even know why she’s still listening to this utterly reckless plan. Destroying the Hollyberry Kingdom would only make Hollyberry Cookie unhappy— a depressed shell of her former self, sulking over the tremendous loss she’d take days to even accept. Why would she accept such a deal?
She takes another sip of her berry juice to ponder such a thought.
“And, in exchange,” Burning Spice Cookie says, snapping his fingers. Eternal Sugar Cookie doesn’t react to it beyond a mild flinch, before she drinks more. “You bring the bird out of her nest. Be flashy. Play injured. Anything that would catch her attention— and oh, it will get her attention indeed— and bring her to me.”
“So we are…” her eyelid twitched. “…simply making things up as we go.”
“You’re going to be making things up as we go,” he says with a mere careless shrug. “I, on the other hand, already know what I shall do the moment I grow near that kingdom.”
“Wow.” Eternal Sugar Cookie finishes her drink and sets her glass aside. “Is that it? Is that supposed to appeal to me? You have told me nothing but struggle.”
“Do you not want your other half with you?” The question is simple, lighthearted, and still it pokes a fire at the bottom of her stomach.
Her nostrils flare with distaste. “Not enough to destroy everything she adores.”
“Hypocrite.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s brows furrow in an instant. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Burning Spice Cookie flicks the glass away, letting it fall from his hand. It shatters in an instant, spilling its contents all over her carpet (…again). “The Garden was something you adored and valued more than your own existence, and still you attempted to flood it just for her.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s tail flicks. The berry juice has quickly soured in her mouth. “Hollyberry Cookie is worth more than the Garden ever was.”
“And if your most beloved creation is worth less than one Cookie, why wouldn’t her kingdom be?”
“Because-“
“It’ll crumble away regardless of whether I interfere or not,” Burning Spice Cookie boldly interrupts. “Everything is but a mere blink in the stretch of infinity. Even the eldest sprout must rot away.” And, with a shrug, he makes the bold-faced claim of, “If she’s so bothered, she can simply start another kingdom!”
“But the peop-“
“Come now, Angel…” the bed frame creaks as he shifts his weight, dragging himself fully on the bed before easing himself closer to her. The heat is unbearable at this point. “Do not behave so performatively. We both know you would do ANYTHING to have that Cookie at your side.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie swallows. Despite how much she drank, her throat feels chalky and dry. “No I wouldn’t.”
“You would.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“You have already done it once, Angel.” The Beast reaches out one thick claw, and coils one of her hanging curls around it. He tugs just enough to lure out a hiss. “Attempting to drown everybody you claimed to care for in jam… what’s so different about it now?”
Eternal Sugar Cookie weakly pushes his hand away. “Burning Spice Cookie…”
“You desire this just as much as I do,” he says, before extending his hand once more. Large, clawed, and burning hot to the touch, his palm facing her. “I know you do not enjoy violence, the struggle. You do not even have to do the job yourself— allow me to reduce that poor excuse of a kingdom to cinders.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s mind is hazy. She can still taste the bitterness on her tongue, mixing strangely with the tartiness of her berry juice, thick in flavor with the amount she had swallowed.
She shouldn’t. She’s already done so much to her other half— she couldn’t bear to see her in any more pain. There are countless Cookies that look up to her, that rely on her, and Hollyberry Cookie relies on them. She couldn’t possibly…
“Are you really going to let this opportunity slip by lying to yourself?”
Eternal Sugar Cookie keeps her mouth shut. It would be cruel. Completely and utterly selfish of her, even. She’s already been selfish enough. She’s been…
“Quid pro quo, Angel,” Burning Spice Cookie shakes his hand, as if she hadn’t noticed the first time. “You know I would never back down from a promise. That Hero of yours will come back running into your arms without a second thought, and I shall never bother you again."
Eternal Sugar Cookie swallows. Her throat is still dry. Her eyes switch between Burning Spice Cookie’s face and his open hand, quick and repetitive, her tail buzzing violently.
…Perhaps she’ll always be this way. Truly, in the past several days since Hollyberry Cookie had left her behind, she’s proved to become no better than before.
Truly a cruel, selfish Goddess, desiring the Happiness of others only to make herself feel better. She’ll never be better— she would rather realize it sooner rather than later.
Eternal Sugar Cookie takes a long, deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. Slowly, without looking, she reached her own hand out.
Her hand is so much smaller compared to is, yet her claws are no less sharp. The moment she places her palm against his, her nails dig into his dough.
“…Do not ruin this for me, Brute.”
He reacts with a light grunt, and a sharp smirk splits across his handsome face. He curls his fingers and squeezes his hand, one of his claws raking across her dough deep enough to draw droplets of blue jam. The harsh sting is little compared to the burn.
“Of course, Angel. Your wish is my command.”
There was only one thought that constantly repeated in her mind the very moment she was led here: she should have never accepted this deal.
Scarred, scorched, severed.
Those are the only words the Goddess can properly describe, standing at the very edge of this bountiful rainforest just outside the Hollyberry Kingdom. Her feet are thick with mud, the hem of her monochiton stained with wet blades of grass, pollen, and even more mud.
She doesn’t remember how long she’s been standing here, waiting. She doesn’t even know what she’s waiting for. Burning Spice Cookie had merely ordered her to hide here and stay put, before marching over to the kingdom’s docks.
The plan had been elaborate. The Wild Spices surrounding the kingdom from all sides, Burning Spice Cookie moving on his own simply to draw the majority of the attention from the waiting defenses.
Eternal Sugar Cookie tried not to look. She tried her very best. Yet while she still turns a blind eye, her ears still pick up the distant screams and crumbling buildings.
She acts like she doesn’t hear it, because she truly doesn’t. The noise will be nothing more than an insistent buzz in her ears, loud and obnoxious, sounds of utter agony reduced to something she can tune out.
It’ll result in nothing. She’ll have her other half. That’s all that matters. She doesn’t know the names and faces of these Cookies (most of them, at least), and the memories of them shall fade into the past. Without the sticky sweetness of her Paradise, nothing will last an eternity.
Scarred, scorched, and severed.
She swears she can distantly hear the sound of dough ripping apart, innards squelching wetly as they spill out onto the crumbling grounds. There’s the sound of crackling flame and heavy crashes, caused by the constant explosions that knock down yet another building. She can hear the grunts and snarls of the aggravated Spices, fighting not out of their will, but rather simply for their Lord and honor, as the Hollyberrians attempt to oppose the invaders overtaking the kingdom.
The day has already begun to fade, and Eternal Sugar Cookie still has not moved from her spot. Everything seems to have calmed down— for the moment, at least. There’s still the sound of ravenous fire, but nothing beyond it yet. She can’t tell what’s happening anymore, and quite frankly, she has no desire to. Telling means focusing, and focusing means remembering what she just allowed to happen.
Just a little bit longer now, surely. Burning Spice Cookie won’t take any longer. He had promised…
Scarred, scorched, and severed. Eternal Sugar Cookie can’t even begin to imagine such a nightmare.
Had those Cookies faced a slow, painful death as they crumbled away? Or had the Spice offered them mercy, offering them a quick and instantaneous way out of this display of cruelty?
Her chest clenches tightly in an instant. She doesn’t like to think about it. She doesn’t want to think about it. All of this pointless violence and suffering, which could’ve been completely avoided if she had just—
“Angel.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie immediately jolts, squeaking loudly. She whirls around, flaring out her wings and lashing out her tail, just to come face to face with Burning Spice Cookie himself.
His signature parashu held at his side, as it usually is, with his other hand occupied holding something large and heavy atop his shoulder, like a prize (not his prize— her soulmate). Eternal Sugar Cookie can recognize it in an instant, and quickly rushes to his side.
“A fine culture that Kingdom had— quite a lot of flair and passion. It was an honor to put an end to it.” He says, nodding his head in approval.
Eternal Sugar Cookie’s eyes haven’t left the Cookie in his arms for a second. Her tail lashes back and forth, agitated, as she opens her mouth to—
“Definitely a worthy opponent, with decent appeal,” he says before she can make her complaints. He shrugs his massive shoulders, just to carelessly drop Eternal Sugar Cookie’s soulmate on the ground. Thankfully, she catches Hollyberry Cookie at the very last second, and cradles her against her chest like a mother would her child. There’s no sign of that shield— perhaps Burning Spice Cookie had destroyed it. She doesn’t care anymore.
“But not good enough. Constantly focusing on keeping others safe, actively going out of her way to knock any falling rubble away… bleh.” He shook his head. “Didn’t even allow a pillar to crush a Cookie’s skull in.”
Eternal Sugar Cookie can barely hear him. Her vision is blurry, the Cookie in her arms little more than a collage of pinks and reds and faint greens.
She’s here. She’s here, vulnerable and in her arms, and she didn’t even need to do a single thing. Could it have always been this easy?
Her vision clears. Eternal Sugar Cookie can finally look at her soulmate properly. Hollyberry Cookie, resting limply in her arms, jam leaking from her forehead and dripping down the side of her face. Her eyes are faded and glazed over, yet only partially closed. Something must’ve hit her on the head.
“Poor thing,” Eternal Sugar Cookie murmurs, her chest clenching with sympathy. Hollyberry Cookie mumbles something, and Eternal Sugar Cookie tenses.
Her soulmate’s gaze lifts to hers, almost. “Where is…” Hollyberry Cookie groans, pained, as one of her hands drift over to her stomach. Burning Spice Cookie must’ve cut her open there. Eternal Sugar Cookie can see jam seeping through the fabric of her dress. “Royal Berry Cookie, Jungleberry Cookie. And Wi… Wildberry Cookie. They’re still in…”
It’s the last thing she says before her eyes roll to the back of her head.
I must have made her unhappy. It’s the only thought circling her brain the moment those words were spoken into existence.
“Poor thing,” Eternal Sugar Cookie repeats, her voice quivering in the middle. Her vision grows blurry again, and so she frantically attempts to wipe at the developing tears. A Bringer of Happiness doesn’t cry. “You did not need to treat her so harshly, or violently. She’s horribly injured.”
“She wouldn’t have come unless she were injured, Angel.” Eternal Sugar Cookie only now just registers how much jam, dust, and Cookie crumbs he’s coated in. She feels nauseous thinking of how many Cookies he could’ve crumbled in that place. “What happened, happened. You cannot change it.”
I’ve made her unhappy. Her heart pounds against her ribcage, her breathing growing heavier in an instant.
“Thank you… I suppose.” It’s a weak thing, not at all genuine (why would she thank him for harming her beloved?), but regardless it is the barest minimum she is required to fulfill.
”I owe you something, don’t I?” She asks softly. She begins petting at Hollyberry Cookie’s jam-soaked hair, simply to distract herself from this growing pain in her chest. “A certain bird…”
“Yes, of course. I expect my opponent to be ready to face me once more.” Burning Cheese Cookie nods with a chuckle, reaching down to scratch at Eternal Sugar Cookie’s scalp. Her arms tighten around her prize’s body, tail raising in warning, but she does not resist it. Hollyberry Cookie’s head slumps against her collarbones. “Oh, but take your time catching that bird. I know this is a tremendous day for you— you should celebrate it.”
He leaves her alone at last, in this soaking mud with a dying Cookie in her arms, right across the scorching embers of what was once a grand kingdom. Yet despite the beautiful clashing shades of reds and oranges and yellows, flames licking at wood and brick, all of her attention is poured into the beloved prize in her arms.
Hollyberry Cookie looks so beautiful when she’s injured. Broken and battered and bleeding, panting heavily even through possibly cracked ribs. Eternal Sugar Cookie feels compelled to avoid healing her, just to keep her this beautiful. The instant she thinks it, guilt floods her chest. Such horrible thoughts, when she should be becoming better. Hollyberry Cookie wanted her to be better.
I’ve made her unhappy. The thought repeats itself over and over again, just as strong as the gummy heart pounding in her ears. Sickness churns heavily in her stomach, seconds away from expelling all its contents into the grass, and she can barely keep herself from doing do. I’ve made her unhappy. I’ve made her unhappy. I’ve made her unhappy.
Eternal Sugar Cookie presses her face against Hollyberry Cookie’s mane of hair, and inhales sharply. She always smells so sweet and fruity, she can practically get drunk off the scent of her. She hears her soulmate mumble something again, and she promptly ignores it.
“But that doesn’t matter now, does it?” She asks, more to herself than anyone else. Of course it does, she somehow reminds herself, somewhere. She desperately attempts to ignore that voice, and focus on what’s here. Hollyberry Cookie in her arms. Isn’t that what she desired?
Eternal Sugar Cookie leans in close to her soulmate’s face. She’s breathing through her mouth, the poor thing. Her breathing is so heavy— she must be more injured than she originally thought. There’s a cut at the very corner of Hollyberry Cookie’s lip, still open and bleeding, her face still covered in her own jam. It’s nothing compared to the large gash at the side of her face. The Goddess thinks, vaguely, how much more beautiful she would be if she were fully conscious.
What would she say, being held in the arms of the one who desired such an unwarranted display of savageness and cruelty? Would she accept her gentle touch if she remains unaware she was involved in the countless slaughter of her denizens? Would she be squirming away, resisting her, even if she’s too weak?
A foolish endeavor, really. Eternal Sugar Cookie would catch her easily, perhaps even instantaneously.
The Goddess shivers the moment she thinks it. An utterly selfish, cruel thought, unintended and unnecessary. Her dough crawls just putting the words together— she could never. Would Hollyberry Cookie accept her aid, at the very least? …No, most likely not. She wouldn’t either, if she were in this position. Her eyes grow blurry, so she wipes at them again.
To pay for such impure thoughts, Eternal Sugar Cookie begins to pepper Hollyberry Cookie’s face with kisses, letting the sweet taste of jam touch her lips. It costs almost every inch of her face, from her forehead to her cheeks to her very chin, it’s all coated in her own jam.
“My love,” Eternal Sugar Cookie murmurs as she practically squeezes Hollyberry Cookie in her arms, tight enough to bring out more jam from her open wounds. Some of it stains her dress, yet it does little to actually catch her attention. She’s grown much too distracted by her face, unconscious and unaware.
"...I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Hollyberry Cookie, for everything.” She meant it. At least, she believes so. If she believes she means it, that means she does, doesn’t she? “I truly am. But...”
I’ve made you unhappy… but it’s alright. It’s almost reassuring, that line of thought. Eternal Sugar Cookie closes her eyes. It’ll all be alright in the end, I just know it. You’ll be Happier with me than you ever were with them.