Work Text:
Spicy was nearly out of breath, trudging up the steps of the Ivory Pagoda. She wheezed, licked at her lips, and found that she was too dehydrated to cry. The cold, thick air seemed to squeeze at her throat as she trudged farther. She had to get to the beast of Apathy. She had to. This feeling inside of her was far too much to bear, like someone constantly digging their nails into her heart. The sickly sweet gushing of the jelly-like heart pulsates with each puncture, and even with surgery, she knew her heart would never be as good as it was before. She could feel it more every time she remembered…her face. Eternal Sugar Cookie, her beloved goddess. The way her lovely bubblegum hair framed her face, the way she brightened up when she saw spicy, and the way her lips moved when she said her name. Spicy couldn’t help but cough out in pain at the idea that it was all gone, merely a memory. She had to stop walking for a moment to collect her breath, chest heaving desperately with each intake of flour-polluted air.
With this brief, quiet moment of calm Spicy found her thoughts drifting back to the time in the paradise before she finally decided to leave. The paradise was the same lovely garden as it ever was, but a certain Hollyberian occupying the space changed everything. With her strong presence, she infatuated the goddess. It didn’t help that she was also the keeper of her…other half. Spicy understood that now. She was asked about it before, when her connection with Eternal Sugar was still strong. Spicy could remember the desperate look on the goddess’s face as she begged Spicy if she had her ‘other half’. A bittersweet smile flashed across Spicy’s face now with a new understanding. The goddess felt their connection at the time, too, and wondered if her search for the soul jam had finally come to an end. With the Hollyberian, and her soul jam now at full power; the two were stuck at eachother’s side, which left no room for Spicy and her lesser connection with the goddess. It was twisted, loving someone so hard only to be discarded so easily. It was as if their time together meant nothing to her radiance, as if a lowly cookie like Spicy was just a plaything for her to enjoy until her better half arrived. Spicy sighed deeply, a harsh breath leaving her lungs the more she thought about it. She had watched the two embrace eachother just as they did, saw her smile just as she smiled at her, and even share her cloud bed with the Hollyberrian. Spicy couldn’t bear to wake up another day where she had to watch her happiness slip away, numbly making more statues of the goddess which seemed to decrease in quality. It was like her heart was dying.
With a shaky breath, Spicy found herself willing her body to finally stand once more. Even as her legs shook, it was her will that brought her back up. It was the last bit of strength that she had left within her, and she was using it to finally be released from this prison of a body. Her dough felt heavy, climbing up more of the marble stairs and nearly stumbling every other step on the way. It was only until she reached a point on her journey upwards that she was finally allowed a breathe, the big clouds of flour beneath her now. She felt significantly lighter, trudging up the remaining steps before finally reaching the top. She let out deep breaths, before finally collapsing to the floor. Quiet steps could be barely heart before white fabric filled her vision.
“Why are you here…you’re…hers.”, the voice mumbled, “aren’t you…?greedy cookies…only indulging in things you haven’t rightfully earned”, the voice seemed to sneer, before a hand was placed under Spicy’s chin.
Spicy’s gaze was drawn up to meet the blank expression and dew-dripping eyelashes of Mystic Flour Cookie. The Beast of Apathy. Spicy Margarita swallowed dryly.
“I don’t grant wishes anymore, you gluttonous little thing.”, she mumbled before letting Spicy’s chin fall back down onto the marble floor. “Now go before I return you to flour…where you rightfully belong.”.
The footsteps were getting farther away now before Spicy got up to her knees.
“Wait…! That’s…that’s exactly what I want, you see.” She spoke in a desperate tone, licking at her dry lips. “Please…In my years of servitude…none of it matters anymore. I have nothing. I have…no one to serve and love”,
“...pathetic.”, Mystic Flour mumbles, before walking back to Spicy Margarita’s submissive stance. “Your truly…”, she crouches down to meet Spicy’s gaze, “utterly…”, she has her hand underneath the flushed pink woman, “pathetic…”, she seethes before releasing Spicy’s chin. “Have you no shame…”, she mumbles.
“Please…will you….?”, Spicy chirped, unaware of how her voice squeaked in pitch from her sheer nervousness. Mystic Flour said no word but merely beckoned the woman to a short set of stairs that led up to her spot of meditation. She took a seat, gingerly tucking her dress underneath pale legs that Spicy had not been able to see due to how modest she was in comparison to the residents of Paradise.
“I haven’t all day…come.”, the woman beckoned once more. Spicy was quick to crawl over on her knees, not having enough energy within herself to get up on her legs. Mystic Flour huffed slightly at that, amused briefly.
“Tell me again what you want.”, Mystic Flour commanded. The moment felt so surreal, like Spicy was back in the garden with Eternal Sugar, asking her what her wish was. The memory soured quickly when she realized that she was denied her happiness by the bringer of happiness herself. Spicy wished for Eternal Sugar, all of her, and in the end was left with nothing but a stinging in her heart and emptiness. She swallowed a breath, looking up at the blank expression of Mystic Flour with more desperation than she had before.
“I want you to…no…I need you to return me to flour”, Spicy Margarita spoke, absolute in her voice. Mystic Flour sighed, not a sigh of snarkiness- rather, a blissful sigh as if she picked off an itching scab.
“Wonderful…now look up at me…let me watch your expression as you dissolve into nothing…”, Mystic Flour whispered, about to allow her eyelashes flutter open. It was in this moment that Spicy Margarita had a revelation.
“Stop!”, she spoke quickly, making Mystic Flour shut her eyes. The woman was so unbothered by everything that she didn’t even flinch.
“I want you….please…to hold me…?”, Spicy Margarita tested. In these moments, Spicy remembered what kept her going. It was love. Searching for love. So, if she were to die she wanted to at least be held. It was a really foolish ask, of course, for the Beast of Apathy. However, there was something in the way she asked. It was familiar. It reminded Mystic Flour of how she was before her transformation, craving only love as she bestowed gifts onto many. Yes, gifts.. She briefly remembered the dewy-eyed woman asking her to bless their dough with fertility. A gift…of love. Here, this little…pest…was asking for a gift of love in her final moments. It almost made Mystic Flour feel sentimental.
“I will never do this again.”, Mystic Flour spoke softly, mostly as to place the promise into the winds. May the witches strike her down should she allow herself to be vulnerable ever again. With a deep sigh, Mystic Flour removed her hands from her lap and gave Spicy Margarita a firm nod. The woman spared no second, placing her head in her lap. She felt peaceful, for the first time since the Hollyberian’s arrival. In this woman’s embrace. Maybe it was because she was about to die, but Spicy Margarita felt something close to love in her heart for Mystic Flour. Mystic Flour, on the other hand, felt conflicted with the girl on her lap. She swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond to the gesture. It was all too foreign to her, some meaningless act that she had no idea what to do with. Where should she put her hands…did she even want to touch the girl, herself? She couldn’t tell.
“I love you…”, Spicy Margarita mumbled into the cloth of the woman’s dress. That took Mystic Flour aback; she nearly wanted to throw the girl away. But, somewhere in her cold and dead heart, she found some reason to ignore the words. Instead, Mystic Flour placed her hands to hold the girl’s head gently. It was a bit of a stiff embrace, but an embrace nonetheless. Spicy found herself smiling softly, some tears finally being released from their ducts. They pooled down her cheeks and onto the white fabric of Mystic Flour’s dress, which, again, she chose to ignore this once. With a breath, Mystic Flour opened her eyes to gaze down into Spicy’s. The women stared at each other with gentle gazes as Mystic Flour’s powers started to claim Spicy. Spicy slowly began to fade, disintegrating into flour specs which floated into the air. Oddly enough, the flour seemed to wrap around Mystic Flour before finally fading out. Like a final thank you.
“I love you too…”,