CH3RRY CH3RRY R3D

「 ananas dragon cookie 」

⟢ unlike pitaya dragon, ananas does not feel the need to perform over-the-top jamshed to show off and win your favor. rather, ananas earnestly believes that the simple act of them choosing you as their mate should qualify as proof enough that they love you. after all, they’ve lowered themself to be your lover, a sacrifice of pride. you should be honored. a truly great dragon does not need to prove their worth to anybody.

⟢ their way of giving gifts is rather unorthodox. they don’t go out of their way to find something you like, per se, instead they offer you one of their shiny golden scales. they cherish them quite a lot, and see the act of sharing them as the ultimate affection. should you ever request a specific item in particular, they will go out to fetch it themself on their own time, likely when you’re asleep so you won’t notice their absence.

⟢ you live a very spoiled life as their mate. despite their outward attitude, they truly do adore you, and dote on you in their own way. you will only have the finest garments, the finest accommodations, the finest food, and the finest company (which is them, of course). anything less is a crime. anything less is blasphemous.

⟢ they do want you to be comfortable in your new home, but for a while they do not leave your side at all. they are overbearing in their need to be present in all areas of your life. they slumber next to you, curled around your form, always subconsciously alert of threats. this behavior never quite eases up, especially if they are paranoid about trouble happening on the island.

⟢ trust is vital to ananas, so they expect you to have unwavering and unquestioning faith in them. “in my domain, there is only one law. my will.” they assert boldly. their word is absolute, any suggestion otherwise is an insult to their pride. since they believe so deeply that they know what’s best, they aren’t willing to listen to your word about it. your opinions are cute, really, but they mean little to ananas.

⟢ cookies are fleeting. impermanent. ananas knows this loss intimately, for they fear it every day. this only fuels their delusions of protecting you from unseen threats, no matter how small they may be. little things become large catastrophes in their mind. oh, as far as they’re concerned, everything is out to get you! you don’t know any better, of course. that’s why you need your mate to guide you.

⟢ ananas has the need to always be standing behind you/slightly in front of you. sometimes they want to loom over you, signaling to others that you’re under their care. cookies may approach you if they dare, but they will be monitoring the conversations closely. any sign of ill intent from strangers results in immediate scolding, or worse, swift retaliation. however, ananas likes to position themselves above “petty violence.”

⟢ they preen under any praise you give them, chest puffing out as their ego swells another size. you think they’re strong? you think they’re noble? of course you do, every cookie does. but it does mean more coming from the tongue of their mate, knowing you find aspects of them praise worthy and pleasing. maybe they do crave just a bit of your validation, at the end of the day.

⟢ they share their songs and customs with you. it makes you all the more connected to their home, like you’ve always been a part of it. truthfully, it’s a boost to their pride when you begin to adopt their way of life (whether willingly or not).

⟢ grief at your new way of life is to be expected. ananas doesn’t understand it, because in their eyes, you should be grateful. they give you everything, do they not? they cherish you, protect you, keep you warm and healthy, don’t they? you dare spit in the face of a dragon’s love with your little tantrums? it’s insolent. punishments consist of isolation in your shared nest. they wait out your fits, asking rather pointedly, “are you finished?”

⟢ puts in shocking amounts of effort to appear more presentable to you. you’ve noticed their scales are shinier, their wings are spread wide and confidently, their armor is free of any grime—they want to look as good as possible, not only for onlookers, but for you.

⟢ escape is not possible; you’re trapped on their island. ananas is not amused at any attempts to do so. the villagers would be wary of helping you, knowing you’re the mighty one’s mate. ocean surrounds you. there’s nowhere on this piece of land they have not laid eyes on, and there’s no part of it they would not scour in search of you. they enlist the help of their islanders as well. the most time you could spend “free” of them would be about an hour, before somebody eventually happens upon you. they have a unique way of making you feel guilty for wanting to leave, framing it as the ultimate betrayal. from then on, any little freedoms you’ve earned are revoked, and they’re at your side constantly.

⟢ whenever ananas is having a conversation with you, they wrap you up and encase you in their wings, wanting to be the center of your world in that moment.

⟢ they have the tendency to leave bite marks as a claim. everybody already knows you belong to them, but they enjoy the action of doing it more then they’d like to admit. your thighs and shoulders are their main and favorite targets.

「 pitaya dragon cookie 」

➻ fiercely competitive for their mates’ attention, they are prone to many a battle and fight between cookie and fellow dragon alike. it’s a way to show off, display themselves as your strong partner that can quell any threat, so reliable and capable of protecting you. they don’t realize the prospect of watching strangers and friends crumble into dust and jam isn’t appealing to you, like it would be to one of their own. in fact, you may find it rather inhumane and horrifying.

➻ oftentimes after such a slaughtering, they collect a trinket from the corpse of their foe (if any corpse remains at all) and gift it to you. just a souvenir from your lovely mate. they’re confused when you throw their gifts to the ground and begin to panic, but cookies have always been so fraught with emotion, so they eventually learn to ignore it. they simply pick the item back up and store it back at your shared nest.

➻ speaking of the nest, if you had any other home prior to meeting pitaya, then you’ll likely never be seeing it again. friends, family, pets? why go back to that when you have a dragon by your side? you have no need for those things now that you’re with them.

➻ they will try to make the space more comfortable for you, but not in the most elegant manner. they’ll gather a few blankets and pillows (those are things cookies like to sleep with, right?) and embed them into the place you two sleep. they aren’t fond of covering up with anything, but you seem to like it, and that’s all that matters to them.

➻ territorial to the point of quick, seething rage. it’s no secret pitaya has a flaring temper about them, and it does not take long to trigger it. if they feel their mate is being encroached on by somebody else (a feeling they seem to feel very liberally), they don’t hesitate to act out. sometimes they’ll come back to the nest covered in jam and brag about their latest conquest to you.

➻ always has their tail/arm/wing wrapped around you at all times when in public. snaps at people who try to approach you ‘as a warning.’

➻ pitaya isn’t good at reading your emotions. to them, all cookies are sort of senselessly emotional, always afraid and cowering. your crying to see your friends and family again doesn’t ring as alarming to them, because if anything, it’s just what they’ve come to expect. they’re not sure how to calm you, so they usually wait out any outbursts, or they go out to find you a pretty trinket.

➻ for the first few months, all they would bring you to eat was raw meat. this is what they ate all the time and it never bothered them, but it turns out cookies have more particular diets and palates. they like their meals cooked, no jam leaking out? that’s odd. the first time they bring you something edible, they tentatively hand it to you and watch you eat it. from then on, they bring you foods they think you’ll like, taken from villages.

➻ days are fretful, but nights are surprisingly pleasant. whether it’s warm or cold outside, pitaya is wrapped around your body as tightly as possible. even attempting to get up is difficult. usually the struggle would earn a grumble and a nip to your cheek from them.

➻ rarely enough, they will dawn their draconic form and allow you to fly through the skies with them. they fly a bit slower than usual. you’re only a tiny little thing, and they wouldn’t want you to fall. plus, there’s the unintended side effect of having more time to admire the scenery from above. though sometimes you both come across a stray town or village, and pitaya comments on how easy it would be to burn it to a crisp.

➻ “little cookiesss, running away!” they exclaim with delight. down below, people run to safety and point up at the sky, up at the greenish red dragon of legend. “they’re lucky i’m not in a sssnacking mood.”

➻ escape is rather hard, if not impossible. pitaya has memorized every detail about you — your body, your voice, your face, your scent, your shadow — they could easily pick you out from an entire crowd of cookies. whether or not they’d be upset about you fleeing is entirely up to their mood that day. maybe they think it’s cute, how you try and run away, like a little mouse. or maybe it angers them deeply, because they don’t want to entertain silly little games. either way, they’ll be dragging you back home, and teaching you a lesson will surely be in order.

➻ intimately familiar with your scent. there is something so unique about it, something that makes them want to chase it down. any time they can, they bury their nose in your hair or your neck and enjoy your smell. they also make sure you carry notes of their own scent as well, so others know you’re clearly taken.

➻ certain times in the season demand you sit down with pitaya and precariously pluck the dry seeds out of their hair. they gripe and groan about it every single time, but they do like the feeling of your fingers working through their messy tresses.

sugarfly’s wings had long been coated with saccharine crystal syrup, lazy and weak from disuse, as she strolled through the garden of delights. she hummed to herself, counting the berries and flowers as she passed them by, marveling at the beauty surrounding her. truly a paradise, a place of happiness eternal. she couldn’t fathom why anyone would ever want to leave.

in the heart of the garden, which had been dismal until recently, a stream of sugary pink flowed, ending in a waterfall. a most magnificent sight, she thought in awe, for the bringer of happiness must be in high spirits today, if the stream isn’t dead still. it brought a smile to sugarfly’s face. she stepped closer to the water, taking in the sweet scent that wafted into the air. she could barely make out her reflection in the quick current.

she stared for a moment, taking in the blissful expression on her face, the softness of her hair, the tips of her lashes. she was beautiful, just as she wished to be. a lightness settled over her at the reassurance. as she gazed longer, though, the glimmer of her wings caught her eye. they, too, were beautiful, but she sometimes felt as if they’d been stripped of something vital. when she attempted to move them the slightest bit, they wouldn’t budge. they stayed slumped down, sparkling radiantly if the sun hit them right. but they weren’t useful. they no longer yearned for the freedom of the skies, the wind as they soared. in turn, sugarfly didn’t yearn for it either.

but she could remember a time when she did. when she wasn’t surrounded by the suffocating smell of cotton candy and sweets, when the sugar clouds didn’t hang so terribly low—she had adored the skies. the warmth one could feel after a nice morning flight, the conversations with the bluebirds as they migrated in the fall, the feeling of hope. going wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. those memories started to fade over time, replaced with the delights and happiness she felt in the garden. she could only faintly recall them now, as though they were little more than a brief haze that plagued her mind.

freedom had not served sugarfly well, in any case. she much preferred it here, where hardship didn’t exist, and reality could not sink its claws into her life. there was nothing to protect, no burdens to bear, no responsibilities to take on. the way life was intended to be.

however, something nagged at her. an ever present voice, very unlike the bringer of happiness, called to her. her brows furrowed as she tried to ignore it, but it only seemed to get louder, more shrill. “sugarfly,” it begged ceaselessly, “please don’t leave. we need you here.” she turned back, as if she would find the answer, but there was nothing. maybe it was the whispers of the wind, of pains yet to be cured.

“don’t go,” it pleaded, “don’t leave me.”

“leave who?” sugarfly asked hesitantly, voice soft as the wind itself. “who are you?” her eyes darted every which way, suddenly unsure of their ability to see clearly. “are you lost?” her question echoed in her head. no reply given from the wind. “i can help you.”

she took a tentative step toward the stream again, allowing her offer to hang in the air for a moment. “you don’t have to be afraid,” she consoled, though it was more to soothe her own simmering nerves. “i’m right here.” her turquoise eyes fell back down to the water. her reflection, lips curled in a frown and uncertain, stared back at her.

the longer sugarfly peered at her reflection, the more disconcerted she felt. for a brief second, she swore there was someone else standing behind her. a familiar figure, one she hadn’t laid eyes on in quite some time. a person she had once sworn to love and cherish and protect, come what may, no matter the pain. those feelings seemed to intangible now.

reaching out, her fingers gently dipped into the water, marring the image of herself and the figure. a sense of loss filled the air, an aching disappointment settling deep in her chest. she was almost compelled to beckon the strange whispers to return to her, but her words died in her throat before anything could be said. a soft “come back” tumbled out, with only silence as a reply.

“sugarfly!” a grating voice yelled, demanding her attention. she didn’t answer, didn’t smile and wave as she normally would. her head hung low, eyes focused on the frosted earth beneath her metal boots.

“sugarfly! we have guests,” irritation radiated off pavlova’s words, giving sugarfly pause in their wake. “i need you to escort them to the bringer of happiness right now!”