Chaos in the Cookie Jar

Gold Citrine Cookie pov:

The ocean has always been my home. The currents, the tides, the song of the waves—I have known them since the moment I was shaped from the golden reefs of our kingdom. I know the way they dance, the way they whisper, the way they guide.

But this… this was something else.

The current came without warning, a monstrous force that tore through the waters like a vengeful beast. One moment, I was with my sisters, our weary forms drifting in the quiet sanctuary of this unfamiliar sea, and the next—

A pull. A crushing, suffocating pull.

I did not have time to cry out. The water roared around me, my limbs flailing uselessly as the tide wrapped itself around my form and wrenched me away. It was a force far beyond the gentle currents I had grown accustomed to—a spiraling maelstrom of raw, untamed power.

My vision blurred. I twisted, tumbled, spun, salt burning against my skin as I was dragged deeper, farther. Away.

I could not tell which way was up. I could not hear my sisters' voices.

Only the rush of water, the force pressing against me, shoving me where I did not belong.

Then—light.

A break in the current, a sudden rush forward. The sea spat me out like a discarded shell, and for a moment, I soared, weightless, before crashing into something solid, something unyielding.

Sand.

I could feel it against my skin, coarse and unfamiliar. The gentle lull of waves lapped at my body, the water that once held me now retreating, leaving me stranded beneath the vast sky.

I could not move. I could not open my eyes.

But even in the quiet hum of unconsciousness, I knew.

I was far, far from home.

Royal Margarine Cookie pov:

"Buttercream—WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!"

One moment, I was enjoying the crisp breeze, the golden expanse of the Hollyberry Kingdom stretching below me, and the next—I was nearly flung off my own dragon.

Buttercream had been flying smooth as ever, her massive wings cutting through the sky with that effortless grace of hers, when suddenly—down she went. No warning, no hesitation, just an instant dive straight for the coastline like a hatchling spotting its first snack.

I barely had time to tighten my grip before the wind ripped past me, the world blurring as we plummeted. "What in the blazes has gotten into you?!" I shouted, my voice nearly lost in the rush of air.

Buttercream, of course, didn’t answer. Not in words, anyway.

Instead, she let out an eager, chirping rumble—the kind she made whenever he found something shiny.

I swore under my breath. "You better not be dragging me into another mess of trinkets—GAH!"

The landing was anything but graceful. Sand exploded beneath us as Buttercream touched down with far too much enthusiasm, nearly sending me tumbling face-first into the beach. I managed to keep my balance—barely—before rounding on my overgrown, treasure-hoarding companion.

"Alright, you overgrown hatchling, what’s got you so—?"

I stopped mid-sentence.

Right there, lying on the sand, half-draped in the retreating tide, was not some sparkling trinket or forgotten piece of pirate loot.

It was a Cookie.

A golden Cookie.

Her form shimmered beneath the fading sunlight, a soft, ethereal glow to her dough that reminded me of morning light on the ocean’s surface. Delicate fins adorned her arms, and her long, flowing hair—golden as melted honey—cascaded around her like a glistening current.

And she wasn’t moving.

Buttercream nudged at her side with her snout, letting out a soft, inquisitive warble. I could still see the excitement in her eyes—she had thought the cookie was some kind of treasure. But now, even she seemed to realize something was wrong.

I slid off her saddle, boots sinking into the damp sand as I crouched beside her. My fingers hovered near her shoulder, unsure if I should shake her, if I should even touch her. She didn’t look injured—just… still.

A Mer.

I had only ever heard stories of them, of course. Legends told of the Merfolk who ruled the deepest parts of the sea, far beyond any sailor’s reach. Powerful, mysterious, and elusive. And yet, here she was.

Washed ashore. Alone.

And completely unconscious.

"...Well," I muttered, exhaling sharply. "This is gonna be a story."

Buttercream let out a pleased chirp, likely taking full credit for the discovery.

I shot her a look. "Yeah, yeah, don’t get smug on me now."

Then, turning back to the golden Mer, I ran a hand through my hair and sighed.

"Guess I better figure out what to do with you, huh?"

I didn’t get much time to think.

One second, I was still kneeling beside the unconscious Mer, trying to figure out what in the Hollyberry I was supposed to do with her—and then I saw it.

Dark clouds, rolling in fast.

The kind of storm that made even seasoned sailors reconsider their life choices.

I swore under my breath, watching as the first flickers of lightning danced along the horizon. The wind was already picking up, kicking up sand and sending the waves crashing harder against the shore. This was bad.

"Alright, alright," I muttered, glancing at Buttercream. "Time to get moving, bud, before we get—"

A deafening crack split the sky.

In an instant, Buttercream vanished.

One moment, she was beside me, tail flicking, eyes bright, looking proud of herself for finding this unconscious Mer. The next? Gone. Poof. Not even a flick of her wings left behind.

I didn’t even have time to be mad.

"Oh, COME ON!" I yelled at the empty air. "Really?! You're just gonna ditch me?!"

No answer. Obviously.

And just like that, I was stranded.

With an unconscious stranger.

On an open beach.

With a storm barreling right for us.

"Great. Just great." I rubbed my face, glancing down at the golden Mer. Still out cold, still shimmering faintly under the fading sunlight. "Well, guess it’s just you and me, huh?"

The wind howled in response.

No time to waste. The rocky coastline wasn’t far—I spotted a small cave nestled between jagged cliffs, barely visible against the shadows. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter. And at this rate, it was our only option.

"Alright, princess, up we go," I grumbled, scooping the Mer into my arms. She was lighter than I expected—her fins barely twitched against my grip, and her hair, wet with seawater, clung to my sleeve.

I didn’t stop to wonder who she was or why she had washed up here. First, survival. Questions could come later.

The trek to the cave wasn’t easy. The wind fought me every step, the storm fast on my heels. But I managed to duck inside just as the rain came down in sheets, pounding against the rocks with a fury that made me real glad I wasn’t still out there.

I set the Mer down on a patch of dry stone, brushing my soaked hair back and letting out a long breath. "Alright," I muttered, shaking out my coat. "Could be worse."

Another flash of lightning. The whole cave lit up for a split second before plunging into darkness again.

"...Yeah, okay, that was probably a bad thing to say."

I turned to check on the Mer, only to freeze when I saw it—

A flicker. A slight shift. A faint twitch of golden fingers against the stone.

Then, slowly, her eyes fluttered open.

Gold Citrine Cookie pov:

My body felt heavy.

For a moment, I thought I was still drifting—caught somewhere between the sea and the sky, floating endlessly in the tide’s embrace. But no. Something was different. The water was gone. The currents had stilled.

And the first thing I felt was… warmth.

My eyes fluttered open, vision blurred at the edges. The faint glow of gold reflected off damp stone, and beyond that, a figure—someone unfamiliar, dressed in rich blue and white, his golden curls tousled and damp from the humidity. His coat was slightly disheveled, his boots scuffed with sand, but there was something about him—his stance, his expression—that told me he was used to this kind of trouble.

He let out a breath when he saw me stir. "Well, look who’s finally awake," he said, arms crossed. "Took you long enough."

I blinked, my thoughts still catching up. My body ached, but I forced myself to sit up, my fins twitching involuntarily. I wasn’t in the water anymore—wasn’t even near it. I was in a cave. A dark one, the sound of pounding rain and distant thunder roaring just beyond the entrance.

I looked down at my hands, golden against the cold stone. Then, finally, I spoke, my voice hoarse from disuse.

"Where…?"

"Long story," the stranger cut in, dropping into a crouch beside me. "You washed up on the shore. My dragon found you. And then abandoned me." He scowled, waving a hand towards the storm. "So now we’re stuck here, waiting out whatever this is."

Dragon? Washed up? My head spun.

I clenched my hands into fists, trying to recall—the current. The violent pull that had torn me away from my sisters, dragging me far from home. I had no memory after that—only darkness. But now, I was here.

Far, far from where I belonged.

I looked up at the stranger again. "Who… are you?"

"Royal Margarine Cookie," he said, leaning back against the rock wall. "Bounty hunter. And you are?"

I hesitated. "Gold Citrine Cookie."

He raised a brow. "Royal name."

"It was given to me," I replied simply. There were far more important things to discuss than my name. "You said I washed up?"

"That’s right. Lucky for you, I was flying overhead. Well—lucky that Buttercream noticed you." His irritation flared again. "Not so lucky that he ditched me the second the storm hit."

Buttercream. His dragon. A creature I had only heard of in distant tales. But something else gnawed at me—something beyond our predicament.

The storm.

The rain came down in sheets outside, the wind howling through the cliffs. Lightning split the sky again, illuminating the cave for a heartbeat before fading into shadow once more. I had seen storms before—had braved them in the depths of the sea. But this one…

This one felt wrong.

Royal Margarine Cookie must have felt it too, because he let out a sharp sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t like this," he muttered. "Something’s off."

I closed my eyes, reaching out—not physically, but instinctively. Listening. The storm was not just a storm. There was something within it. A disturbance.

A warning.

When I opened my eyes again, they locked onto his. "This storm isn’t natural," I said.

He tensed. "Yeah. Figured as much."

The rain continued to fall. The thunder continued to roar.

And we both knew—something was coming.

I could feel it creeping in.

The dryness.

At first, it was subtle—a faint tightness in my limbs, a dull ache beneath my dough. But now, the longer I sat away from the sea, the more it became a weight pressing down on me.

My golden glow was fading. My body—once shimmering like the sunlit waves—was dulling, my energy waning.

I clenched my hands against my lap, trying to ignore the exhaustion pooling beneath my skin.

Royal Margarine Cookie must have noticed, because his easygoing expression faltered. "Hey—uh, you okay? You’re looking a little… dimmer."

I exhaled slowly, steadying myself before meeting his gaze.

"...I am drying out."

He blinked. "Drying out?"

I nodded. "Merfolk are bound to the sea. We need moisture to sustain ourselves. Without it, we weaken." I shifted, my fins twitching uselessly against the cold stone beneath me. "If I remain like this for too long, I will lose my strength entirely."

Royal Margarine Cookie frowned, glancing toward the cave entrance. The rain was still coming down hard, but the sea—the true sea—was far beyond our reach. He probably thought water would fix this.

It wouldn’t.

His gaze flicked back to me, sharper now. "Okay, so… what do we do?"

I hesitated.

The answer sat heavy on my tongue. It was not something spoken lightly—not something shared with outsiders. But if I said nothing, if I let the dryness continue its slow, withering march, I would be useless. Weak. Vulnerable.

I had already lost my home. I would not lose myself as well.

I lifted my gaze to his, my voice quieter than before.

"There is… another way."

Royal Margarine Cookie tilted his head. "Yeah?"

I inhaled slowly, letting the words settle before I spoke them.

"In extreme conditions—when separated from the sea for too long—Merfolk can transform." My fingers curled slightly, my breath steady despite the truth I was about to reveal. "We can become fully terrestrial Cookies."

I saw the confusion flash across his face. "Wait, you mean—like, just… permanently?"

"It is not permanent," I corrected. "But it is a deep transformation. One that allows us to survive on land without the sea's embrace."

His brow furrowed. "Alright, so if that’s an option, why haven’t you done it yet?"

I looked down at my hands, at the fading shimmer of my dough. The process was not simple. Not easy.

And not without cost.

"Because it requires something… more." I met his gaze once again, my voice steady despite the weight of the words.

"It requires blood."

Silence filled the cave, save for the storm raging outside.

Royal Margarine Cookie stiffened, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, after a beat—

"…Huh."

I tilted my head. "That is all you have to say?"

He let out a sharp exhale, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was expecting something dramatic, but blood? That’s, uh… that’s something." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "You mean like—your blood? Or…?"

I shook my head. "No. It must be given."

His eyes widened a fraction, then flicked down to his own arm, as if considering it for the first time. "Huh," he muttered again, softer this time.

Another rumble of thunder rolled through the cave.

The storm was not letting up. The sea was too far. And time was running short.

I swallowed my hesitation. "If I do not undergo the transformation soon, I will wither." My fingers tensed against the stone. "I will not be able to move. And if something finds us before the storm passes…"

I didn’t need to finish the sentence. We both knew how it would end.

Royal Margarine Cookie let out a long, drawn-out sigh before shaking his head. "Well. That’s one hell of a first meeting."

Then, before I could say anything more, he unhooked one of the small knives from his belt, flipping it in his fingers. "Alright, princess," he said, giving me a lopsided smirk—one that didn’t quite mask the seriousness in his eyes.

"Let’s get this over with."

Royal Margarine Cookie pov:

"That’s it?"

I tilted my head, squinting at her as the storm raged outside. Gold Citrine Cookie still looked hesitant, her golden form dimming with every passing second. But really, if all she needed was blood, that was easy.

I’d had worse.

"If that’s what you need," I said, rolling up my sleeve, "then take mine."

Gold Citrine Cookie’s sea-green eyes flicked up to me, unreadable. "You do not understand," she murmured. "The process is… not simple. There may be side effects."

I smirked. "Side effects? What, am I gonna grow fins?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I do not know. The transformation is tied to our magic. It is… intimate."

That made me pause for a half-second, but only a half-second.

"Still breathing?" I asked, arching a brow.

She frowned. "Yes."

"Then we’re good." I extended my arm to her, my usual grin returning. "C’mon, princess. I’ve had worse scrapes in bar fights."

For a long moment, she didn’t move. The firelight from the storm’s brief flashes cast long shadows over her face, her golden hair dull in the dim cave. Then, finally, she took my wrist.

Her fingers were cool against my skin.

"Do not fight it," she murmured.

Before I could even ask what I’d be fighting, she dipped her head, and—

Heat.

A strange, dizzying warmth flooded through me the moment her lips met my skin. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before—like sinking into the ocean on a sunlit day, golden light wrapping around me, pulling me under. My breath hitched.

I felt floaty. Like my body wasn’t fully under my control. The edges of my vision blurred, everything sharpening and softening at once.

What in the—?

My free hand moved before I even realized it. My fingers found her cheek, tilting her face up slightly.

Her skin was smooth beneath my palm, the warmth of her magic tugging at me, drawing me in deeper. I could feel my pulse pounding, my breath uneven, but I wasn’t thinking. It was instinct.

She barely had time to register my expression before—

I kissed her.

The movement was seamless, natural—like something I’d done a thousand times before. Her lips were warm, soft, and the connection sent a shiver down my spine, the warmth turning intoxicating.

Gold Citrine Cookie stiffened against me.

Then—just as suddenly as the sensation overtook me—it snapped.

The magic shifted, the warmth settling. My mind sharpened, the haze lifting just enough for me to realize what I’d just done.

My eyes flew open.

I pulled back slightly, blinking as I took in her expression—stunned, wide-eyed, utterly frozen.

"...Huh," I muttered, breathless.

I had not planned that.

The cave was no longer quiet.

The storm raged outside, rain pounding the rocky cliffs in an unrelenting symphony. Thunder cracked across the sky, but it wasn’t just the storm making my heart hammer against my ribs.

It was her.

Gold Citrine Cookie.

Her wide sea-green eyes were locked onto mine, lips parted in something between surprise and breathlessness. The golden glow of her dough was returning, shimmering once more like the sun reflecting off ocean waves—but my attention was stuck on the way she felt.

Her warmth. Her touch. The lingering sensation of her lips on mine.

Neither of us moved for a heartbeat, our breath uneven, the cave charged with something neither of us had prepared for.

Then, as if pulled by the same current, we moved at the same time.

Her fingers curled against my chest, uncertain but not hesitant. I barely had time to smirk before she surged forward, closing the distance again.

And this time, I didn’t hold back.

The second our lips met again, the warmth from before ignited into something far more potent. My hands found her waist, pulling her closer as she melted against me, her fingers gripping the front of my coat. The storm outside was nothing compared to the fire sparking between us, a clash of heat and need neither of us could deny.

She was intoxicating. Salty-sweet, like the sea itself, like something untamed yet utterly hypnotic.

Her lips parted beneath mine, and I deepened the kiss, swallowing the soft sound she made. My pulse was racing, my mind fogged with nothing but the way she fit so perfectly against me, the way her golden hair spilled over my fingers as I tangled my hand into it.

Her hands, hesitant at first, found their way up my chest, gripping my collar like she wasn’t ready to let go.

I wasn’t either.

Thunder rumbled overhead, but neither of us cared.

The storm was outside. This—this was something else entirely.

Something neither of us had expected.

Something neither of us wanted to stop.

ButterCream dragon pov:

I was miserable.

Rain poured down in endless sheets, soaking through my once-pristine golden scales, my wings drooping as i huddled in my nest atop one of Dragon City's towering peaks. i had teleported here in pure, unfiltered panic when the storm had hit—storms were scary, okay?!—but now i was stuck.

And it got worse.

Because, as if the rain wasn't bad enough, as if the cold and the howling wind weren’t already making me question all my life choices, i had another problem.

i could see.

Through Royal Margarine Cookie’s eyes.

And what i was seeing made my tiny dragon brain implode.

There they were—my human, my rider, my partner in crime—absolutely, unmistakably making out with the shiny mer-lady.

i let out an incredibly distressed chirp, squawking loudly enough that a nearby dragon gave me a strange look.

"WHAT?!" my brain practically screamed. "WHAT IS THIS?! I LEAVE FOR TWO MINUTES AND YOU START KISSING THE SHINY COOKIE?!"

Another chirp, this time deeply offended.

This was not what was supposed to happen. i had found the shiny cookie. i had brought them to safety. And now, instead of focusing on survival, Royal Margarine Cookie was making out with them?!

The worst part? i couldn’t look away.

i tried, really tried, shaking my head aggressively to see if that would break the connection. But no. i was trapped, forced to witness every ridiculous, dramatic, stormy kiss, every breathless pull, every—

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF—"

i slammed his head against the nest, utterly defeated.

This was the worst day of my life.