Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warnings:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 29 of CRK oneshots
Stats:
Published:
2025-06-27
Words:
975
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
20
Kudos:
83
Bookmarks:
8
Hits:
660

Nothin' I do is ever good, Leave me alone, leave me alone (I wanna go home now)

Summary:

Everyone is dead. Everyone is fucking dead. Except for him. Why is that? Why was he spared?

…

Immortalwind :3

Notes:

Anddddd im back at it, baby! Hell yeah, angst :3

TW if you haven’t already read tags: Blood/Jam, Death, Possessive/Obsessive Behaviour

Based of my friend, Kazz,’s art
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSBehCmCC/

go check them out its amazing <3

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The world was quiet.

Not peaceful—never peaceful. Just quiet in the way a battlefield settles after the last body hits the ground.

Wind Archer stood frozen in the middle of what used to be Earthbread’s final sanctuary. The once-lush canopy of Millennial Tree’s forest had turned to ash, and the sky above wept smoke, not stars. The breeze that once carried life now blew with the stench of death.

His knees buckled, landing him amid the bodies of his kin. His trembling hands clenched his staff, though it had long since lost its glow. Even the wind did not answer him anymore. It had fled—like the others. Or perhaps it had died too.

His eyes swept across the ground. Sea Fairy's body lay shattered in a crystal bloom, hair tangled in blood and seawater. Moonlight Cookie’s ever so soft glow had dulled, fading into the shadow. Frost Queen Cookie, Stormbringer Cookie…

And Millennial Tree… He had fallen last, and Wind Archer had felt it.

The moment the world cracked.

The silence inside his head had turned to screaming.

"They’re all dead," he whispered, fingers clawing at his face. Blood—not his—stained them.

His breath caught as sobs rippled through his chest. “No. No, no, no…”

The words warped around him, echoing, multiplying. “No. No. No—”

He should’ve died with them. He should’ve fought harder, faster, sacrificed himself if it meant saving even one more.

But instead… he was left here. Alone.

No. Not alone.

A slow, familiar warmth bloomed behind him. Wrong warmth. Not comforting like firelight in winter. This was something that scorched the soul. He didn’t need to turn around.

He knew.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, Windy~”

The voice curled around him like smoke from a wildfire, sickly sweet and gleeful. Hot fingers ran along his arm, trailing up until they interlaced with his.

Wind Archer flinched but didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. His body refused to obey.

Immortal Cataclysm leaned in, his mask of Fire Spirit’s old face now twisted into a cruel parody. His once-glowing eyes burned with an unnatural light, molten and unstable. His smile cut like obsidian.

Wind Archer’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He just stared at the other cookie’s hand wrapped around his own—so casual, so intimate, as if they hadn’t just walked through a graveyard of everyone they’d ever known.

“…Why?” Wind Archer finally choked out.

Cataclysm’s smile widened.

“Oh, Windy, sweet, loyal Windy… I did it for us,” he purred, pressing his lips mockingly close to Wind Archer’s ear. “No more distractions. No more missions, no more Tree whispering ancient riddles, no more guardians playing heroes. Just you and me. Forever.”

Wind Archer stiffened. His mind roared against the haze of grief. For a fleeting moment, the winds stirred.

He pulled back. Just a step. Just enough.

And raised his bow.

Shaking. Barely standing.

But the arrow was real. Tension sang along the string, a breath held by the world that no longer had lungs.

Cataclysm’s eyes glinted. His smile turned savage.

Wind Archer let go.

The arrow sliced through the smoke, whistling as it shot straight toward Cataclysm’s heart.

And the moment it touched his chest… it melted.

It didn’t shatter. It didn’t ricochet. It simply dissolved like sugar in tea, crumbling into nothingness with a sizzle.

Cataclysm blinked at the charred dust on his shoulder, then gave a theatrical gasp.

“Shooting an arrow at me?!” he crooned. “Oh no no! Now that’s just rude, Windy!”

He laughed. Giddy. Horribly delighted.

Wind Archer backed away, breath hitching, the bow slipping from his hands. Useless. Everything was useless.

"You—" His voice broke. “You murdered them. You… you murdered him.”

Cataclysm tilted his head.

“Millennial? Oh please, he was already rotting. The world didn’t need his mercy anymore. It needed change. I gave it that.”

He gestured grandly to the blackened horizon.

Wind Archer’s hands were clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. He tried to summon wind. A storm. Anything. But the breeze simply curled around Cataclysm like a worshipful dog.

He couldn’t breathe.

“You burned Earthbread.”

“I cleansed it.”

“You killed them.”

“I freed us.”

"You’re not him!" Wind Archer shouted, voice cracking under the weight of anguish. “You’re not Fire Spirit Cookie!”

That smile fell.

Only for a second.

Then Cataclysm’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward slowly, each footstep deliberate, embers crackling in his wake.

“You say that name like it means something.”

Wind Archer stepped back, until he felt his heel hit a crumbled piece of what used to be Hollyberry’s armor.

Cataclysm reached for him again—slowly, mockingly—hand hovering over Wind Archer’s cheek.

“I remember everything,” he whispered.

His voice softened, dangerously sweet.

“I remember what it was like to care.”

He leaned closer.

“And how beautiful it felt to finally let go.”

Wind Archer couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

Not from fear—but from grief so heavy it had fossilized in his bones.

He didn’t scream when Cataclysm pressed their foreheads together.

Didn’t cry when the world trembled again.

Didn’t resist when the last guardian’s crown—the faint glow left on his brow—dimmed.

Only then, in the silence that followed, did Wind Archer finally collapse to his knees.

Cataclysm watched him fall with that same smile.

“Now, now,” he murmured. “No more of that. You’re not allowed to break, Windy. I kept you alive so you could watch.”

Wind Archer didn’t look up. His fingers curled around a tuft of grass, brittle and burned.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to die.

But death wouldn’t come.

Not while Cataclysm still wanted an audience.

 

 

And somewhere, under layers of ash and silence, the world turned one final time beneath the weight of two.

One who remembered what love felt like. And one who never wanted to feel again.

Notes:

Discord Server:

https://discord.gg/E8wEJc2vuS

Series this work belongs to: