d1squ13t3d

[d1squ13t3d]

When your big brother breaks the sound barrier on a regular basis, you probably get used to it at some point

[d1squ13t3d]

Take Me To War (Honey I Dare You)

A (mostly) Knight Cookie-centric fic series. Knight, Princess, Pistachio, and Madeleine grew up together. Now Knight is Princess' personal guard, Maddie is training to be a knight, Pistachio is a knight tasked with general kingdom guarding, and... Knight has gotten himself wrapped up with a couple gods. Oh dear.

Well this can't go wrong.

Series (WIP)

Our Friends Have All But Left Us

If I'm Kindling For A Little While

Take It Nice And Slow

Poor George

Started: 2021/12/7 | Updated: 2022/1/9

This post will be updated as new stories come out and/or are updated. Due to Cookie Run's mostly loose lore system, this story is heavily headcanon based. Comments and asks are appreciated!

Writing tag is #wizards scrolls|my writing, series tag will be #frosts knightverse (update posts will not be put in series tag)

[d1squ13t3d]

oh hey so I started a series n I'm using ao3 again

[d1squ13t3d]

(Here In Our Hearts) You Can Stay

woooooooooo another tent town bit! ft. @crossed-charms's Cross and spoilers I heard secondhand

“No please Dream stop Im on half a heart I-”

-Tommyinnit was slain by Dream-

All at once, each players communicator buzzed. No one checked. No one looked. And so Tommy died.

--

Cold. Not bad cold, but everything was… cold. It was odd, he thought, a tiny speck of consciousness. Odd. Then his eyes snapped open and Tommy was falling. Falling through the black with Wilbur’s voice ringing in his head.

“Tommy? Are you okay? What happened?”

And just as suddenly as he appeared in the black, he was gone.

--

He blinked, squinting at the blinding sun. Why was he laying on his back outside? Had Sam managed to get him out? Had-and everything came rushing back. The prison. Dream. He’d-he’d died. His final death, but how-?

Tommy looked down at himself, only to see right through to the grass beneath. No. Nononononono- tears dripped down his face, tinted ever-so-slightly red. He was-he- and silent tears became heaving sobs that racked his body. He was dead. He was dead and there was a hand on his shoulder and a voice telling him to calm down, to breathe- wait. He began to take gulps of air, struggling and hiccuping and half-choking on his own breath until finally he managed to meet the other person's steady breathing. 

He looked up, right into bright purple and green eyes. The other person looked away. He’d seen them before hadn’t he? Somewhere in the past, wandering around with- with cats, one of whom was snuggling into his side, another of which was begging for pets. Hex. Right. And behind them, concern and slight confusion splayed across thier face, was Cross. 

“Feeling better?” 

Lacking confidence in the ability to speak, he nodded and Hex nodded once in response.

“Here, how about we head back? To Tent Town?” Cross looked like they wanted to protest at that, but just as quickly glanced back at him and fell quiet. And so they set off, an unspoken ‘you can stay’ whispered on the wind. And if the citizens of Tent Town gathered by the fire that night to plan an assault on a certain green man? That was no one’s business but thier own.

[d1squ13t3d]

Drifting

New Hex stuff dropped pog

They came to her as whispers on the wind, drifting through and making old thoughts skitter along mental pavement. They told him of an egg, whispers of plots and plans and places far beyond. And he listened, he listened carefully and quietly, storing away the information should it ever be needed. And it wasn’t. Or it never seemed to be. Time and time and time again, things passed them by. 

They didn’t mind. If anyone found them, truly found them, they would find the same breath of peace they would with a good friend, warm drink, and a comfortable seat. They would make sure. But no one ever did. Centuries passed, and she changed again and again and again, but her soul stayed and stuck. Where she held true, others faltered and fell. As was life. The outsiders changed, the world changed, everything changed, even him. He was merely slower, less noticeable.

And so they stayed. They stayed and stuck to thier home, until they didn’t. Until thier old was but ash in the wind.

A new place had caught thier attention. Bells and fireflies strung up by wire, lighthearted banter, warm soup around a fire. And they drifted to a new home. They stayed. They stuck. They thrived here.

And they grew comfortable. And they visited. And suddenly all was red.

[d1squ13t3d]

Fade Away

A story for the concept of tent town, made by @minecraft-account

They don’t know how long it’s been. Things fade in and out, and eventually, they’re the only one left. After so long, the smp faded away, and all that was left was them. Tent Town. A town of misfits and wanderers who just wanted to have fun. But eventually people got lonely. People got sadder. And people began to disappear. 

Hex didn’t remember when it began. When joy and laughter turned to strained chatter and eventually, silence. They only know when the others began to fade. They turn thier head, spotting the book.

An unassuming thing wasn’t it? A small, black journal with a leather cover. Filled only by names and numbers. Names and numbers. People and the dates they left. Hex closed thier eyes. Looks like today was another ghost day. 

Another day of feeling silent and quiet and not-quite-there. How lovely.

-

It had been so long. It was only them now. Weeks since Karl’s last visit, and thier cats, alongside every other creature, had simply… gone. Disappeared.

Hex straightened for a second, looking up into the silent sky, and began to cry softly.

-

So long. It had been so long. They were alone. Everyone was gone and they were alone. Truly alone now, for the first time in… centuries now wasn’t it. They pulled thier limbs closer and cried harder.

-

How interesting. How interesting, that so long can make you forget. Forget what thier voices sounded like, what anything beyond the forest… no. Just the town now. What Beyond looked like. How you can forget your name, your story, the sound of your own voice. 

What a lonely existence this was.

What a lonely existence this would continue to be.

How they wished they could have followed. How they wish.

-

He stepped back into town, oh so long later, to silence. Immediately, Karl’s brow furrowed and he frowned, seeing no movement, and hearing nothing, not even a breath of wind through the branches. His eye caught on something.

A glimmer of green. Hex’s ornament. The last of the last. He clutched at it and began to cry.

-

He stepped away and disappeared. A time passed, both eternal and not. The gem began to glow, and from that glow a person formed. The ender hybrid surveyed thier surroundings curiously, before coming to wonder who they were. What were they doing here?

Hex. My name is Hex, and I am here to… observe.

[d1squ13t3d]

Based on this post by @incorrectzukka (sorry if you dont want this to be associated with Homestuck, it just gave me an idea I wanted to screw around with)

(For context, the marks fade to be a bit darker than skin tone. If the feelings towards each other are negative, the marks will fade to something darker, depending on the strength of emotion)

-☆-

-Florin and Nailah have had each others marks on them for as long as theyve known each other (Florins mark, sharp against Nailah's collarbone, and Nailah's, bright against Florin's upper arm, scattered across them both are other marks, some bright, others dulled and dark)

-Stark against sevlaz' ankle are the marks of her dearest companions (they match her mark on each of them, nailah's wrist, over pyaria's heart, the inside of mintea's wrist, as bright as theyd always be)

-Fiercely bright against Crista's right shoulderblade, a smattering of bright marks, zias shining brightest of all, result of many late nights talking and binging random shows while making plans to trade the next day. (A clear opposition to the right side cluster sits a small grouping of grey marks, evidence of years of mental harm and cruelty, disregarded by the teal until it was said and done, with others to help it make sense)

-worming thier way across Karius' upper leg, a series of bright markings, showing him that there were several people who wouldn't hesitate to go to bat for him, for his sake, no matter what the world said about his caste

-Right along his hairline, generally covered by the benie (and a good thing too, what would people do if they found out that one was a shade of lime that hadnt been seen in a millennium, he didn't want that to happen, he wouldn't let it) that was were Kurtiz' marks rested, bright golds greens and blues, put together with the colors of seadwellers, feared (rightfully, but not for these seadwellers) for thier ruthless use of status, proclaiming that there were people who saw worth in him despite his low, his muddy caste

-Miarah's marks, curled round her fin, and, despite some of thier colors in contrast to hers, it felt good. It felt right

-they only started appearing after he joined the chat. A bright band of marks, sharp against his upper arm, bright and solid, something to focus on. Rookie promised himself, no matter what happened, he wouldn't forget who they symbolized

-Tehlum has no marks. Not until they reach the game and he meets the crew (all at once, bright searing marks flare, solidifying a passing thought that despite it all, theyd be there for each other)

-None of them know what zias marks are until halfway through the game, when ce is severely injured, and they have to strip off cel jacket and edge up cel shirt to get at the large, bright, bloody gash across cel back (there, looped around and around cel arm, chasing each other, a multitude of marks, a mass of them being dull, but one a seething black that makes them all flinch back. Wounds were one thing, that particular mark was quite another)

-later during the game, Zias mark shines bright against the skin of those who have it before fading to a black

-it later flares back into color, once cel grimdark incident is over and done

[d1squ13t3d]

Eve falls first. Shes hesitant. Who wouldn't be after it all? Who wouldn't be scared of sharing life with someone else, someone who can never truly understand-never truly know. Mayday doesn't seem to notice how much each action impacts her, how every greeting, every compliment, hits Eve like a train.

Mayday doesn't know what this is. Whatever emotion it is, she hasn't felt it before, doesn't know what it is so she asks Zuke. Love. Its love for Eve. But shes just a pedestrian girl isn't she? Eve said it herself.

It comes out one day, unexpected, like swinging your arm and knocking over a glass, which takes a newspaper down with it. You'd only expect the glass, wouldnt you? How funny, that it was just a sneeze in a meeting, and a quick 'Love You' from Eve. Everything froze. Locked eyes. Still and silent room. Earth and Fire.

-ghost, who decided to flex some creative writing when springeveningshipping appeared

UHFIKSHUFS YOU GUYS ARE DRAGGING ME INTO THIS SHIP SO HARD-

[d1squ13t3d]

The Prince In The Tower

A fic that echoes the connections between Rapunzel and Dirk Strider. Or my timeline at least.

~☆~

The man, who loved her very much, thought to himself, “Rather than lose my wife I will get some rampion, cost what it will.” So in the twilight he climbed over the wall into the witch’s garden, plucked hastily a handful of rampion and brought it to his wife.

“CUT!” Everything stopped, a brief flash of silence before the team was on the actors, chittering away at what could be improved. Dave rose from his relaxed position in the director’s seat, striding over to the refreshments table for a fresh cup of coffee.

The apartment was almost done. It had to be done before The End. For his little bro.

So he went in the twilight again; and as he was climbing back, he saw, all at once, the witch standing before him, and was terribly frightened, as she cried, with angry eyes, “How dare you climb over into my garden like a thief, and steal my rampion! It shall be the worse for you!”

Slash, dodge, parry, slash. A dangerous dance, but hardly for him. A wet sound permeated the air as the top halves of Dave’s opponents were separated from thier trunks, then a thud as they all met ground. His phone pinged and rang as he cleaned his katana. He picked up, first ring. For a second, everything was silent on the other end.

“I’m done,” Rose said, no grief for the puppets of the crown, “You?”

“Just finished. Everything ready?”

“I made sure, and I assume you did as well.” A click as someone entered the call. A slightly raspy, queen-no-empressly voice echoed down the line.

“So they’re gone. That don’t matter. My species is far befrond yours, an I can assure you I’m not going to lay down easy.”

“I’m waiting.”

In his distress of mind the man promised everything; and when the time came when the child was born the witch appeared, and, giving the child the name of Rapunzel (which is the same as rampion), she took it away with her.

Dodge, Attack, Parry, Dodge. Dirk’s mind ran rampant, creating a hypothetical, an imagining of Bro’s final fight, even as his hands worked, connecting wires and welding parts.

Then, as though he’d gotten shocked, Dirk’s body tensed, and an image of a boy-for that’s all he could be-dressed in red pajamas getting skewered. It flickered, superimposed over an image of Bro, skewered by a gold trident. Bile rose in his throat.

“Dirk?” Hals voice echoed from the other room. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he choked out, “I’m fine.”

When she was twelve years old the witch shut her up in a tower in the midst of a wood, and it had neither steps nor door, only a small window above.

16. Thats how many years, stretching on and on and-

“Are you going to keep mentally monologuing or do I have to drag you back to your chair.” Hal’s voice snapped Dirk out of his daze, jerking back from the window and shaking his head, as if to dislodge something, before sitting back down at his desk. Hal dropped a plate onto the tabletop, letting it clatter against the wood.

“I know you haven’t eaten yet today, and it’s way past lunch so I better see everything on this plate gone when you get back up.” Hal’s red eyes glowed bright against the black metal that made up the rest of his face, clearly annoyed. Dirk sighed, eyes dropping to the plate and hand coming up to brush through his hair.

“Okay.”

Rapunzel was greatly terrified when she saw that a man had come in to her, for she had never seen one before; but the King’s son began speaking so kindly to her, and told how her singing had entered into his heart, so that he could have no peace until he had seen her herself. Then Rapunzel forgot her terror, and when he asked her to take him for her husband, and she saw that he was young and beautiful, she thought to herself, “I certainly like him much better than old mother Gothel,” and she put her hand into his hand, saying, “I would willingly go with you, but I do not know how I shall get out. When you come, bring each time a silken rope, and I will make a ladder, and when it is quite ready I will get down by it out of the tower, and you shall take me away on your horse.”

GT: Well blimey that sounds fascinating! You’ll have to show me some time!

TT: I’ll try to remember, but you may have to remind me.

A crash sounded behind him. Hal’s scolding sounded from the living room.

TT: Ah, I’ll have to go. It sounds like something got knocked over.

GT: Oh! Goodbye then!

TT: …

TT: I look forward to ending the world with you guys.

~~timaeusTestified [TT] has stopped chattering to golgothasTerror [GT]~~

And she was so hard-hearted that she took Rapunzel and put her in a waste and desert place, where she lived in great woe and misery.

Dark green towers stretched out ahead of his shocked orange gaze, red mists floating through the toxic green atmosphere.

Was this really what his head was like? Was he that fucked up?

“Aha!” cried she, mocking him, “you came for your darling, but the sweet bird sits no longer in the nest, and sings no more; the cat has got her, and will scratch out your eyes as well! Rapunzel is lost to you; you will see her no more.” 

Red streaked through the sky. He lunged, trying to get Jake out of the way-shink-Jake collapsed, a large bloody hole where his stomach used to be.

Jake had only been there to get to him. Jake’s death rested squarely on his shoulders. Dirk’s vision unfocused, everything narrowing to that one bloody hole in his friend.

At first he heard a voice that he thought he knew, and when he reached the place from which it seemed to come Rapunzel knew him, and fell on his neck and wept. And when her tears touched his eyes they became clear again, and he could see with them as well as ever.

Suddenly, hands were pulling at him, hauling him to his feet. Roxy heaved Jake’s limp body over her shoulder, pulling Dirk and Jane after her, to… four slabs of rock, hung in the void. She unceremoniously dumped Jake on a golden bed, before rearranging him to look as if he were sleeping. Or not just dumped there at least. She sat down on a navy slab, Jane and Dirk following suit.

“We have to die here.” Dirk said, Jane and Roxy’s voices echoing the same. Wordlessly, Dirk pulled out a couple small bottles, filled with red mist. They breathed, and so breathed thier last.

Thier bodies began to glow and shine, clothes changing, wounds closing. The Alphas had awoken. The fishbitch’s shit was wrecked.

[d1squ13t3d]

Grey Day

Honestly, I'm not happy with the end of this one, but it's been sitting in my drafts for a while n i figured i should just get it out. Inspired by my bouts of executive dysfunction.

~☆~

Everything was grey. Barren and grey.

Not the good kind of grey either, the kind that glitters like a pool of moonlight and mercury. No. This was the grey of rolling fields & charred trees, decimated by some long-gone tragedy.

It had crept in on his mind, slowly becoming the normal, the barren scene of a mind without.

After all, being in a position such as his brought repression. The need to seem perfect. To hold everyone up, especially when they couldn't do it themselves.

...it hadn't even been voluntary. An unconscious reaction to long-term stress of such a mindset. That everyone needed support, but you would be fine. He would be fine. He always was.

And so that was how the grey day, the first in weeks, had found him. Laying half-curved on a couch in NSR tower, scrolling around some bland social media, trying to ignore the persistant little voice in the back of his head that was whispering, barely a breath of wind across a barren plain.

He wasn't getting anything done. Nothing at all. That's okay. That's okay. He'd get stuff done when he got up.

But his limbs felt weighted, unmoving, as if someone had come along and filled them with cement.

Steps echoed through the room, and as Eve caught sight of him, the light of realization sparked in her vibrant acid green eyes. She pulled out her phone, and her voice echoed, melodious, down the line.

"Zuke? Yes it's me. I'm at the thirty-fifth floor of NSR tower and there's someone here who needs you."

He could faintly hear a tinny response, as if spoken from down a large tube, answer.

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

Eve took one last look at him, lying on the sofa, and walked away, heels clicking softly against the stone floor.

...

He didn't know how long it had been. Like hours had past, but felt only as minutes.

The door of the elevator opened with a soft whoosh, then came the thud, thud of shoes, and finally a weight dipped the other end of the couch.

"You okay Snow? Cause I left almost as soon as N-Eve called, but it's been hours. And if you haven't moved..." He sounded concered. So Snow should probably respond right? That was... socially acceptable. But he couldn't do it. Could work up the will to move his legs, or open his mouth to say a little line about little Zukkie missing him.

Zuke sighed and, carefully moving Snow's legs, sat at the other end of the couch. No! That whisper in Snow's mind wanted to scream, get us up! We have work to do! But they both just sat, waiting out the echoing silence.

[d1squ13t3d]

Hurry Up!

(Title from Hurry Up! By Superfruit)

1010's names are as follows: White=Snow, Red=Ruby, Blue=Sapphire, Green=Clover, and Yellow=Topaz

Thanks to @nsr-scrapped-records for a beta read!

"Hey everybody, seeing as today is Valentine's Day, we'll be doing something a little different!"

Snow's voice echoed in the small sewer room, the context making Zuke sigh and roll his eyes. A few notes began to drift from the new TV, a gift from Tatiana once she'd discovered the fate of the old one.

"One foot in, one foot out

One moment away from shutting down

I'm too complete to need something

From someone who's not on my frequency"

It was a love song, clear and simple. Except love wasn't simple. Zuke's brows tightened a little. Maybe if things had been a little different.

"So if you got what it takes

Then baby don't hesitate

Hey, just blow me away

I'm waiting

Don't need no false promises

Someone who knows who he is

Someone who's ready for this cause it's waiting"

He was at least glad Eve and May were working this out. They were definitely getting along now, each starting to understand the other, leaving a possibility of something other.

"All these other boys

They're just not enough

So talk to me, come to me, hurry up

Hey baby, I've never been in love

But I wanna be, I wanna be, so hurry up

Yeah, yeah

Woah, woah

Talk to me, come to me, hurry up

Yeah, yeah

Woah, woah

Talk to me, come to me, hurry up"

Zuke's mind finally caught onto the lyrics. Boys huh? He didn't know Snow swung that way. Especially with how he treated his female fans. Something in his mind drifted to a possibility, maybe... no. Snow'd already have someone else, no doubt.

"It's four AM, I'm drunk again

About to leave with someone I just met

He's insecure, immature

All these in betweens are too much work"

See? He already had somebody. There was no way. Zuke's mind drifted off, missing the last verses. He came back to focus right in time to see-

Ruby pushed Snow away from the mic, red eyes bright with mischief.

"And that song was to a special person our bro's got his eye on! So whoever you are-" Zuke spat out his tea, eyes going wide as 1010's voices synced, melodic sound drifting into two words.

"Hurry Up!"

[d1squ13t3d]

And A Hand Reached To Pull Her Up

And So She Sunk Beneath The Waves-sequel

Deep, deep below the waves, a castle rested. Made of shadowy rock & clearest blue crystal, it seemed carved from the very floor on which it rested.

Within it sat a throne of marble and coral, upon which the Sea Fae rested.

She had long since drifted down here, filled with despair over the long-term loss of her moon's presence. That time had drained her of hope and dulled her ocean blue eyes.

Dread. That was her name now. /Dread/. How fitting for someone who seemed to never be happy.

The door of the hall burst open, crimson light drifting in, causing Dread to straighten, curious. A cookie came in, dress swishing against the tile, every clack of heel and scythe echoing. As she came to the throne, Dread collapsed into her arms.

"I apologize for taking so long, my sea."

[d1squ13t3d]

And So She Sunk Beneath The Waves

So long. So long since Sea Fairy Cookie had seen her face. Had Moon grown tired of her...? No. They had always been waiting for the chance to see each other, to talk.

Still, doubt crept into her mind. After all, people could grow tired, she knew. Perhaps her moon had simply grown tired of her? She shook her head. No. She just had to hope to see her again.

~☆~

She awoke with a start, the fading memory of a gold key gripped tight and a scornful glance tossed over her shoulder already fading.

She shook the thought away and drifted outside, peering toward the surface. The soft light of the moon drifted down through the water, touching her face lightly. Sea Fairy closed her eyes for a second before swimming up, reaching forward. Her mind began to fill with doubt, and she let her hand fall a little.

Shaking her head to dislodge the thought, she reached again, but fell short. The surface. The light. They were so close, yet so far. Her hand fell, and she sunk beneath the waves.

[d1squ13t3d]

Sorry yall, but I think I might have to go on a semi-hiatus. Meaning that I'll be mostly inactive, and if anything, only work on the weekends. This is mainly because school is snatching almost all of my limited spoons, and I barely have enough to do my own shit beyond necessities. I apologize, and will try to be at least a little active.

~Mod Ace|Nate Shift~

[d1squ13t3d]

An-tea-quities

“Oh by the way dear, I found that old doll you lost. Little Onion’s doll I mean.” Blackberry leaned forward slightly, obviously interested.

“You have?”

“Yes, the spirits must’ve took it, because I found it up in the attic.” Truffle took a sip of tea before continuing. “It ended up a little dirty though, so it’s going through the wash. How is Adventurer?” A shriek echoed through the halls of the old mansion, drawing thier attention. “Ah, he’s back.”

“Yes he must be,” stated Blackberry, an annoyed look coming to rest on her face. He had left at 3 in the morning however, with no note to speak of, so she was content to leave him with the ghosts for now, and possible silent treatment later. 

Adventurer stumbled into the room, shaken, and with a couple ghosts and spiders trailing at his heels. He fell onto the third couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Tea, Addie dear?” Asked Truffle, already pouring the drink-a calming brew this time, both he and Berry needed that-into a small china cup, emblazoned with webbing that formed intricate designs. Adventurer sat up in order to take the cup, taking a deep breath before a sip, then carefully setting it down on the table. He reached one hand into a shirt pocket & another behind his back.

“I’ve got a little something for you two.” He brought out his hand and gently set the items on the table. There, gleaming in the light, a grey sugar crystal & a large, curving vase, depicting imagery of times past.

Truffle hefted the vase, angling it to catch the light of the fire beside her & throwing monstrous shadows on the other wall. A smile lit up her face as the pictures lit a candle of recognition in her brain.

“This is from the fallen kingdom! You can tell because of the particular style with which the imagery is carved,” Truffle said, letting the vase come to rest in her lap before trailing a finger along the grooves that made up a cookie’s face. Adventurer looked to the other side of the room to see Blackberry’s face, which showed the smallest of smiles, and let his nerves rest. 

His contented smile burst into a grin as he laughed. “I’m glad you like them ladies, took a bit to get, so my apologies for the tension.” Blackberry’s face fell back into annoyance as Truffle let out a laugh.

“Well how about we head down to the kitchen? I made something yesterday that I think you’d like.” She rose, set the vase on the mantle, & stared at it for a second before rearranging the different antiquities & leaving the room, a small smile on her face.

[d1squ13t3d]

Raven In A Glass Cage

Light filtered through the trees, painting patterns against the earth. A being, cloaked in ruby and the palest pinks, drifted in and out of the trees, coming to a stop at the edge of a small clearing, scarlet eyes fixed on a shrine directly across from her.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she made her way to the other side of the area. This required precision. After all, it was due time for the losses to cease and a gain to be had. She reached towards the tiny doors' handle, outstretched hand quivering slightly.

A shadow loomed above her. She whirled about, eyes going wide, before pain flared in her head and darkness consumed her vision.

~☆~

"We've captured the Enchantress' servant sir."

"Excellent. We can finally strike a blow against the blight. You've contacted the Wind Archer?"

"Yes sir."

Pomegranate's eyes flicked open. She was in a damp cell, wrists bound by heavy shackles, bolted to the back wall. Outside, the voices of the soldiers faded away. How foolish of them. Her mistress would make them pay dearly.

Her mind drew back to what they had said. The Wind Archer hmmm? Pom had wondered how they were to speak with him. After all, he had killed a fair few innocents from thier side, and was difficult to find. Perhaps it was indeed due time for them to speak.

She closed her eyes, letting out a breath... before opening them again. Right across from her, her mirror. She rose and reached out, farther, farther... too little. It was right out of her reach. Right there, so very close, but at the same time, so impossibly far. Pomegranate let out a frustrated huff.

"Annoyed that you can't reach your weapon, priestess?" A voice, reminiscent of a cutting winter gust, but with the slightest hint of summer softness. The Archer.

Her eyes flicked up, catching on his, gleaming emerald, cold and distant, with a stern anger.

"Hardly a weapon, Archer. And what use would a mirror have in battle?" He snorted.

"You can't fool me. I've heard of those you've corrupted."

"Hardly corrupt. We've only opened thier eyes to the possibilities that could come." His eyes narrowed to slits, and he opened his mouth to speak, before being interrupted by a loud explosion, coupled with a wave of dust and debris.

Suddenly, thankfully, Pomegranate once again had her mirror in hand, and... and there her mistress stood, tall and imposing in front of Wind Archer. Enchantress glanced back before reaching out a hand to help Pomegranate up, waving a hand to dispel the chains.

"The others are outside dear. You're alright I hope?" Pom nodded. No need to speak much yet. Not here.

She turned, a hard something in her eyes, silently promising pain and suffering to Wind Archer, and the soldiers that now stood behind him, but only if they dared lay another harming hand on her charges.

The Archer's eyes, which had gone wide at the Enchantress' entrance, narrowed, and he moved to nock an arrow.

Pom's eyes widened ever so slightly, and she lay a calming hand on her mistress' elbow. He just needed a little convincing. Pom met her mistress' eyes. A silent question. With a wave of her hand, the Enchantress moved herself, the Archer, and Pom to a pocket dimension.

The Archer's eyes glanced around, barely masking slight, yet growing, panic. Pomegranate stepped forward and his eyes locked on her.

"If you wound something, it will bleed. Isnt that the case? We wish to stop that bleeding dear Wind. To help the people neither you nor the Tree can reach." The archers mouth had fallen open slightly, and though he didn't seem shaken apart from that, something made him balk, the resolve in his eyes beginning to falter. His mouth snapped shut, face becoming guarded.

"Please. You can help us free them from suffering. I know you have been lonely and suffered. So have I. We can help them."

"How do I know you aren't lying, priestess?" But she knew he was already convinced. He had seen the honest conviction in her eyes. He knew. He took a breath.

"Fine."

~☆~

"They've been gone awhile. How do we know that they're okay?" A soft, somewhat childish voice.

"Trust Enchantress. They'll be fine." Dark Choco.

Enchantress and Pomegranate stepped from the aether, under the relived gazes of the rest of thier group. They stepped aside. Behind them, an Archer stood tall, with a shadowy amethyst set in his forehead and sweeping raven wings.

"I've heard you needed my assistance?"

[d1squ13t3d]

Ever Changing Flower Patch

Note: this story is reminiscent of my quiet spells irl, and how my brain views things at that time.

~☆~

The underground has changed.

It has changed again and again and again, and they have changed with it, but oh so slower.

It changed with each new human to come. Each human, barring one, they had gotten attached to. Even that one was fascinating in those brief moments of humanity, the time they spent not beating others to death.

Death. An inevitably. They had rushed to meet it in hopes of helping thier new home. They had died in vain, and brought him with them.

Thier wings fluttered as an unseen breeze went through them, ruffling the petals of the buttercups that bloomed across thier face.

Alone. So alone. The newest human couldn't truly hear them anyway, could they? Couldn't see the imaginative mockery piloted by thier scattered consciousness. Could barely hear them.

Another flower crept its way up to thier right eyebrow, blooming wide, signifying one more reset on the pile. One more. One more.

What did it matter anyway, when they were already long dead?