#or I enjoy Twilight from time to time

[jazzy-mass]

And to add on to that: you can enjoy something that has problematic themes while acknowledging it’s problematic. There are plenty of things out there that are fun to watch or read that aren’t always super great or have the best representation of healthy, and you can enjoy that while understanding that when applied to real life, it isn’t healthy or good. You can like characters that in reality would be genuinely not great. It’s fiction. It’s not real and it’s a safe way to experience and process and love something without it hurting others or yourself. It is only when it is used to hurt others or yourself or others forget it’s fiction and attack others for their opinions on it that it becomes problematic in reality.

*parts a bead curtain as i enter the room, carrying a glass of lemonade* 

hey….

nothing you ever read, watch, or participate in will be ideologically pure and without its problems. your quest to consume the most unproblematic material will be, in the end, fruitless. your enjoyment of anything will be sapped away, leaving you a husk starved for media.

 it is okay to enjoy things that have problems to them, so long as you do it critically and with an open mind, and take care to consider others.

*leaves the way i came*

[skyward-floored]

Shatter

(Alternate title: Warriors Gets Jarred)

HAPPY VERY LATE BIRTHDAY @adrift-in-thyme!!!! I finally finished the fic I said I was going to write for you :3 I hope you like it, and I’m sorry once again for taking I don’t even know how many months to finish this XD

Ao3 link

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“Ooooh, there’s something wrong about this place, I just know it.”

Time more than agreed with Wind’s anxious mutter, studying the trees at the side of the path. At first glance there was nothing strange with the forest they were all trekking through, but the longer they walked, the more nervous they all got. The forest was almost completely silent, no sound of squirrels in the underbrush, no birdsong in the trees. There was no life except for the foliage, and even that seemed strangely off, leaves more grey than green, flowers oddly dull.

Something seemed to hang in the very air, heavy and dark, and Time knew all of them had caught onto it, ears flicking, eyes darting towards shadows.

Something was wrong.

“Where did you say you think this great fairy was again?” Four asked in a quiet voice, and Hyrule hesitated, looking around the forest.

“There’s a magic source of some kind up ahead,” he said, but his voice was uncertain. “But these woods... they aren’t natural.”

“So something’s definitely up then,” Legend mumbled from his place on Twilight’s back. “Wonderful.”

“It’s not like we have any other options,” Sky quietly pointed out, gesturing with his arm that wasn’t in a sling. “It’s the hope of a Great Fairy through the unsettling woods or nothing.”

The rest of them murmured agreement, and Time looked back at all the heroes, worn down from a series of long fights, almost everyone injured without any supplies left to heal them. Legend was the worst off, a deep wound in his side and a concussion to boot, but they were all weary and in need of healing, broken arms and twisted ankles, bruises and cuts galore.

But they were in an in-between time period, one none of them recognized. They’d come across no towns or anywhere else where they could buy supplies, just monsters and wilderness, empty forests and fields.

So it was the Great Fairy or nothing.

A soft breeze rustled the leaves around them, and Time wasn’t the only one who stiffened, his ears twitching. Something like a laugh drifted on the wind, but it faded before he could pinpoint it.

He saw Warriors swallow next to him, and Wind rub anxiously at the dark bruise on his cheek.

“...Come on. This way,” Time said finally, able to sense the same magic Hyrule was following, and they all trailed after him, walking closer together then they had been previously.

It wasn’t long before the top of a structure poked through the trees, and Time steered towards it, following an overgrown, barely-there path. An old temple-like building rose up from the trees, thick vines clawing at dark stone, and they all paused to look up at it.

“This is it,” Time confirmed. Hyrule silently nodded in agreement.

They all exchanged looks, but nobody spoke further, and they all trailed inside.

Time relaxed just a bit at the familiar brush of fairy magic that drifted faintly around them, but he realized quickly that there weren’t any fairies inside, the space oddly dark. The Links looked around, studying dark stone and broken windows, and Time walked towards the pool of water on the far side of the room.

His steps were loud on the stones, and Time studied the pool uneasily, the water inside dull and dark.

Strangely dark.

“...This is really a fairy fountain?” Wind asked as they all gathered in the middle of the area, and Wild limped over to the pool, setting a foot near the water.

��I mean... it kinda looks like one,” Wild said, leaning out over the water. “Just... weird.”

“Careful Champion,” Warriors cautioned, slowly moving to stand beside him. “Something here isn’t...”

“Oh, some Heroes have come to visit, have they?”

All of them froze at the echoing voice, strangely harsh to their ears. Hyrule flinched and Warriors stiffened, but Time barely noticed, gaze focused on the pool.

The water was rippling, bubbles appearing on its surface.

“Seems they’ve come seeking help,” the voice continued, tittering when they all took a step back. “Oh, even injured they’re strapping specimens indeed...”

“Ew,” Legend muttered.

The voice laughed, and Time stepped forward, ignoring his unease. “We’ve come in need of healing,” he spoke in a level voice, and the voice went silent a moment. Time was sure he could feel eyes on them all.

“Healing, hmm... I don’t know. You all look so dashing with blood on you...”

“This doesn’t feel right,” Four whispered as the voice hummed. Time nodded, still watching the water. Great Fairies could be on the... unsettling side, but not like this, and he could feel the dark magic in the air now, thick and pungent, like an oily weight that sank into his skin.

Time set a hand on his sword.

“No. It’s not,” he said grimly.

“Does this magic feel familiar to anyone else?” Twilight whispered, a hand ghosting along his side where the Shadow’s axe had struck.

“Something’s wrong here,” Hyrule breathed behind them, hand still pressed to his chest. Time glanced at him and saw his eyes darting around the room, sweat beading on his brow. “Something’s really wrong here...”

“I think we need to leave,” Sky whispered.

The voice laughed like it had heard him, and they all went silent, watching the bubbling water.

“Leave? You just got here! Such fine heroes deserve a rest,” the voice almost purred, and Time‘s grip tightened on his sword. “Lovely specimens indeed... in fact...”

The water abruptly stilled, and the Links held their breath, every muscle in Time’s body alert and tensed.

“...I think I’ll keep you!”

The ground began to tremble under their feet, and Time felt the hair on his neck stand up, the water somehow growing darker as it bubbled again.

“Boys, get away from the—!”

A pale hand shot out of the water at the same time Warriors shoved Wild away, the hand closing around Warriors and pulling him under with a cry.

“Captain!” Twilight gasped as Time’s heart lurched, and they all ran to the water with their weapons drawn, Four helping Wild back to his feet.

The water had gone still again, but it was still frothy from the recent movement, and Time scanned its depths, looking frantically for any sign of Warriors below.

Nothing but dark water met him.

“I’m going to find him,” Sky said suddenly, marching forward as he pulled a necklace with a scale on it from under his shirt.

Time moved to stop him, prepared to argue that he couldn’t swim with a broken arm, but then the ground lurched under their feet. They were all knocked off-balance, and Twilight nearly dropped Legend with how harshly it shook. Time had to steady Wild, and they’d all barely regained their footing when something erupted from the pool, water splashing outwards and nearly soaking them as a laugh echoed around the room, unusually harsh and high-pitched.

Hyrule gasped and several of the others did along with him at the sight, horror rooting Time in place at the sight of what stood before them.

It was a Great Fairy, but wrong.

Her skin was ashen, her hair dull and lifeless, lacking any of the usual sparkle it should hold. Her dress was tattered, and the vines twirling around it and her body were dead and grey, like bleached bones of the plants that had once grown there. The only spot of color she sported were her eyes, and those barely counted, a sickly yellow and glowing with malice.

But worst of all was the sight of the large bottle she held possessively in her hand, long nails curled around the jar as she gently caressed it.

Warriors just barely visible inside with his hands pressed to the glass, soaking wet and looking absolutely terrified.

“Captain!” Sky gasped, and Time could only stare at Warriors for several moments, unable to tear his gaze away from the hero trapped inside of the glass.

Warriors met his eyes, his own unusually bright with fear, and all of a sudden Time was eleven again.

“Great fairy, we need your help. We can’t win this battle without you.”

Mask stood to the side as the captain knelt by the pool, the clash of weapons and screams of monsters and men coming from right outside. The squad they’d brought with them shifted uneasily as something howled, and Mask swallowed.

The Great Fairy was their last hope of victory here, and if she wasn’t willing to help them... it wouldn’t be pretty.

Right when he was about to grab the mask at his hip and see if he could do anything, the Great Fairy finally rose from her pool, leaning over the edge to smile at the captain.

“Of course I can help, little hero,” she laughed, bells in her voice. “...But not without a price. I trust you are willing?”

Something in her voice made Mask frown, but the Captain nodded without hesitation, determination on his face. The Great Fairy grinned at the confirmation, and leapt out of the water with a laugh and a twirl, soaking a few of the soldiers standing too close.

Then she snatched up the Captain, and dropped him into a bottle she pulled from thin air.

“Hey!” Mask shouted, but the Great Fairy waved a dismissive hand at him.

“It’s just until we’ve won,” she giggled, holding the bottle up so she could see the Captain better. He took a step back, eyes wide and uncertain. “Unless he’d like to stick around afterwards... but regardless, I need some help, and you’re just who I need.”

Her eyes glinted a bit.

“Let’s go, little hero. Show me how well you can swing that little sword of yours.”

The harsh laugh rang through the air again, and Time snapped back to the present as the Great Fairy gave the bottle in her hand a light shake.

Warriors looked ill.

“Let him go!” Wind shouted, tightly gripping his sword, but the Great Fairy only laughed again. “He’s not yours, let him out!”

“On the contrary little hero,” she smiled, unnatural and wide. “I caught him, so he’s mine. That’s how it works.”

“As a Great Fairy you should know that that’s not how it works,” Time said as he glared up at the corrupted fairy. “Release him.”

“No,” the fairy said plainly, and Warriors pressed his back to the glass as she held him up mere inches from her face. She smirked. “I haven’t had a toy this good-looking in a long time.”

Warriors lost what little color he had left, and Twilight chucked a boomerang at the fairy’s arm.

She flicked it out of the air with a tsk, the weapon clattering to the ground, and her gaze narrowed, the bit of red around her pupils seeming to grow.

“It’s not polite to attack your hostess.”

“Then release him!” Wild shouted, nocking an arrow and aiming it towards her. “None of us are staying with you, you creep!”

The Great Fairy looked at him, and sighed.

“Well then I suppose I have no choice.”

Dark magic glowed at her fingertips, and suddenly they were all scrambling for cover, most of them only dodging the burst of darkness she threw at them at the very last second.

“This must be the Shadow’s work,” Four wheezed as he ducked behind the same piece of stone Time had sheltered behind. “What else would be able to corrupt fairy magic like this?”

“It has his dirty fingerprints all over it,” Wild snarled from nearby, pulling out a stronger bow from his pouch.

“But how did he corrupt a great fairy?” Hyrule said in dismay, and Twilight yanked him out of the way of another harsh spray of dark magic.

“It doesn’t matter how he managed it, we need to get rid of it,” Time shouted over another harsh laugh. “And save Warriors.”

“How do we do that?!”

The Great fairy kept laughing, and the piece of wall they were hiding behind was suddenly destroyed, the Links scrambling away from the debris. The bottle was swung at them all as they scattered, and Warriors flew by in a blur of color.

Wild whirled around and shot off a round of arrows, several hitting their mark, but the corrupted fairy didn’t even seem to notice, still blasting magic and swinging her bottle.

Time ran forward with his blade raised, and the Great Fairy twirled out of his way. She laughed at his attempts to hit her, then slammed him backwards with the bottle she held.

Time managed to get his shield up, but he was still knocked to the ground, pain radiating up his arm where he’d taken the brunt of the hit.

He thought he heard a muffled cry from Warriors, but the bottle was swinging around too much for him to be sure. Wind covered him while he got to his feet, and Time joined the others as they tried to get close enough to the Great Fairy to actually fight her.

There was too much magic flying around though, dark bursts that made Time’s stomach roll when one exploded too close to him. Between the magic and the way the fairy swung the bottle Warriors was trapped in, nobody could get close enough to cause any real damage.

A larger ball of darkness formed in one of the Great Fairy’s hands, and everyone ran for cover again as more dark magic exploded through the room. Most of them ended up behind a larger chunk of stone, and Twilight slid down next to Time, Legend no longer on his back.

“This isn’t working,” Twilight growled, laughter ringing through the room. “Any suggestions?”

“I’d try the Master Sword, but I can’t get close enough,” Sky wheezed from nearby, his face worried and grim. “Her magic would doubtlessly help, but I don’t know how...”

“Oh! Light arrows!” Wind said with a gasp. He wiped some dust off his face, then began fishing in his pouch. “If it’s dark magic, then light arrows should help!”

“But will it hurt her?” Hyrule asked worriedly, and Time sighed.

“I don’t know, but we don’t really have a choice. Hopefully this will purify her. We can only hope for the best at this point, we don’t have the strength for a drawn-out battle.” He looked around at them all. “If anyone has long-range light magic or weapons, use it now.”

Warriors needs us.

Dark magic hit the stone they were sheltering behind, and the Links scattered again, several grabbing in their pouches.

Wind quickly took out his bow, and pulled back an arrow, the tip lighting up in gold. It grazed the fairy’s arm, and she shrieked, the sound so piercing Time and the others put their hands to their ears.

“It worked!”

“Keep it up!” Time shouted, getting his own bow out.

He shot a light arrow of his own at the Great Fairy, but she dodged, eyes flashing with anger.

“Insolent boys!” she screamed, blasting more magic outwards.

Her attacks came twice as fast as she avoided the light magic, but her aim was less precise in her anger. Time found himself dodging so much he only had time to shoot off a single light arrow before he had to move again to avoid all kinds of stray shots.

He caught sight of Legend tucked behind a piece of stone, still looking dizzy, but shooting some kind of light magic anyway. Hyrule was beside him also shooting arrows, and the Great Fairy grew more and more enraged, shooting magic and throwing her bottle around much more violently.

There was so much noise he couldn’t be sure, but Time could swear he heard Warriors cry out more than once, and his throat tightened with fear.

We need to get him out of there, now.

Time paused in his assault, slipping behind a piece of stone and waiting for the Great Fairy’s attention to be drawn to the other side of the room. Someone cried out, and Time ran forward and went to a knee as he carefully aimed.

He shot an arrow directly at the Great Fairy’s wrist, and as it pierced her flesh, Time felt some kind of magic snap, a protection he hadn’t realized was there.

The fairy shrieked as she clutched at her wrist, and the bottle with Warriors dropped from her grasp.

“Captain!”

Wind’s cry was cut off by the bottle shattering as it hit the ground, broken glass scattering like fallen stars across the dark stone. Time was already running, and he slid to his knees beside Warriors, heedless of the glass he was crouching in.

Blood ran down Warriors’ face from a cut on his temple, and he didn’t move when Time gave him a cautious shake. Dozens of cuts from the shattered glass trickled tiny lines of red across his skin, bruises already forming from his time in the bottle. Wind ran up seconds later, and the sailor’s face went pale as he looked at the captain.

“Warriors?!” he said frantically, but the captain didn’t react.

Time quickly checked Warriors’ breathing, relieved when he felt his chest going up and down. But his leg was at an odd angle, blood still weeping from various cuts all over him, and Time swallowed, taking in how truly battered Warriors was.

His mind fell back to the war again against his will, the Great Fairy fighting with the captain in her bottle. Some of the men had muffled laughs as she’d done some especially odd attacks, and Mask had snickered at a few of them as well, ignoring the flicker of unease that had still been bothering him. His laughter had died the moment the battle had ended though, and the Great Fairy had shaken the captain out of the bottle.

Link had barely been standing, and as soon as the Great Fairy had left he’d emptied his stomach into a bush. He was shaking so hard he could barely walk, and Mask had had to help him back to camp, supporting him as they walked.

But he couldn’t do anything to stop the shaking, couldn’t take away the look in his eyes.

The bruises and other injuries the captain had gotten from being knocked around in the bottle stayed with him for days, but the fear in his eyes had stuck with Time ever since.

That was the first time he’d realized that his big brother wasn’t as unshakable as he tried to appear.

Warriors groaned, and Time snapped back to the present, looking down as Warriors’ eyes flickered.

“Captain, can you hear me?” he asked urgently, placing his hand back on Warriors’ shoulder. He flinched at the touch, breath stuttering, and Time quickly removed his hand.

“Warriors?” Wind asked again, and Warriors opened his eyes a little more, looking dazed.

And scared.

“Link, we need to get you somewhere safe,” Time said, throwing his shield up to block a stray blast of darkness. And despite knowing the answer, he added, “Can you stand?”

Warriors breathed in shakily.

“I...” he croaked, voice barely a whisper. “N... dunno.”

He begin to faintly shiver, and Time breathed out, looking at the fight, then back to him. The other Links were doing their best to keep the Great Fairy’s attention away from the three of them, but he didn’t know how long it would last with how battered their group was.

They were all flagging.

“I’ll go help them,” Wind said, giving Warriors a fearful glance before looking back at the battle. “...Can you get him somewhere safe?”

“I will.”

Wind nodded and ran off, lighting up another light arrow to shoot as he rejoined the battle. Time turned his attention back to Warriors, and saw that his eyes had slid closed again, his expression tense as his breath softly wheezed.

“Captain. I’m going to help you up, we need to get you out of here,” Time said. Warriors didn’t reply, and Time carefully pulled him up, not entirely carrying him, but supporting almost all of his weight. Warriors stiffened at his touch, then began shivering harder. “It’ll only be for a moment, hold on.”

Time stood, keeping his shield at the ready as he began to get them as far away from the water as possible. The Great Fairy screeched in rage again as she was struck by another light arrow from Wind, and Time heard someone shout.

Twilight dodged his way over to Time and Warriors, blood smeared in his hair, and wordlessly covered them as they moved further away.

Warriors’s head hung forward, blood dripping from his face as his breath shuddered, and Time didn’t stop until they were safely behind the stonework, carefully lowering Warriors to the ground. He didn’t even know if the captain was awake any more, and Time’s heart pounded loudly in his ears.

“Warriors?” he asked, patting his cheek. “Hey, wake up.”

The captain twitched a little, and let out a full-body shudder as the Great Fairy yelled. His eyes stayed shut though, and Time knelt beside him, unsure of where to begin. They had no supplies apart from bandages, and he could only do so much with those.

“Captain,” he said in a cautious voice, but Warriors didn’t move. “Link, where are you most hurt?”

Warriors only gave a small shake of his head, faintly shivering. Twilight made his way over to them mere moments later, and he kneeled beside Warriors with a wide look in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Captain?”

Warriors swallowed again, and looked like he tried to raise his head, but couldn’t quite manage to, still shaking and bleeding. He choked on his next breath, and Twilight looked at Time as Warriors’ breathing picked up, rasping and trembling.

“Warriors,” Twilight said more gently, fingers twitching like he had to fight the urge to comfort him with touch. “It’s alright, the others are handling things.”

“We need to tend to your injuries,” Time added, pulling out the few bandages he had left. “Your head is bleeding quite a bit, as is the rest of you.”

Warriors swallowed thickly, and Time watched as he shook harder than the leaves on the Great Deku Tree did when the first spring winds blew in.

His mask had cracked, the one he easily slipped on in battle and stressful situations, hiding his true emotions behind it. Warriors was trying desperately to scrape it back together, but he’d been struck too hard this time. Being put in a bottle again had slashed open scars that had been hastily bandaged in the first place, and now there was no going back.

Not until the threat was gone, at least.

Warriors’s breath hitched, and Time looked at him, bloody and broken, flinching every time the Great Fairy made a sound. Time’s hand was resting near Warriors’s own, and Time reached out, gently twining his fingers with his brother’s.

“You’re safe, Link,” he said quietly, and when Warriors didn’t pull away, he put his other hand on top of his. “Me and Twilight are going to patch you up.”

We won’t let her touch you.

Warriors’s fingers shakily clutched back at Time’s, and Time nodded at him, pulling out his canteen to hopefully wash any glass out of his injuries. Twilight stayed close, his sword still held at the ready, and Time was already planning how to convince him to also be patched up as he cleaned Warriors’s cuts. He hadn’t missed the blood in his descendant’s hair.

Warriors pulled in a shaking breath as Time worked, swallowing as he wiped some blood from his face, fingers shaking. His eyes stayed closed, but Time knew he was awake with how he flinched and kept his face as neutral as possible. He didn’t really succeed in that regard, but he tried anyway.

His other hand stayed firmly in Time’s though, and even though it made his job harder, Time never let go.

Someone shouted nearby, much closer then before, and Time glanced up, frowning as the ground shook beneath them. He held tighter to Warriors, and then jumped as Twilight shouted in alarm.

Time whirled around, and saw a face that should have been beautiful leering mere feet away from them, eyes blazing.

Somehow the Great Fairy had gotten past the other heroes.

“You... are... MINE!” she screamed, voice somehow lyrical and ragged. She stretched a hand out, fingers like gnarled branches of an old, dead tree, and her eyes glinted with desire.

Warriors finally opened his eyes at her scream, and there was such an expression of terror on his face that Time felt something inside himself snap.

He clasped Warriors’s hand that was still in his, and drew on the strength of his gauntlets to bodily throw him out of the way, tossing him towards Twilight. He knew the rancher would catch him, and in the same movement, he grabbed his bow again, calling on the dregs of magic he had remaining.

With her initial target gone, the Great Fairy lunged for Time, dark magic swelling at her fingers. The shouts of the others rang in Time’s ears, but as he drew back a light arrow, he felt strangely calm, even as the sickly feeling of darkness began to reach him.

He was doing this for his big brother.

Time released the arrow at the same time the Great Fairy shot her magic, and the two met in the middle with a shear of pure energy.

It threw Time backwards, and as a scream louder than any of the others rang through the room, something else seemed to snap, thrumming in the very air around them.

Time painfully hit the ground, an oddly-colored smoke rising off of him, but he lurched to his feet anyway. There was an awful smell in his nose and mouth, and his head spun as he stumbled backwards.

Warriors.

Where was Warriors?

Time heard a muffled shout, and turned, lurching towards the smears of green and blue he could see nearby. His skin burned as he moved, muscles screaming as loud as the Great Fairy was, and Time dove forward and covered Warriors and Twilight’s heads.

All three of them closed their eyes against the wave of energy that suddenly rushed outward, rustling their hair and making Time flinch. It only made his body hurt more, but Time gritted his teeth and held on, covering as much of Warriors and Twilight as he possibly could.

Then it went deathly quiet.

Time felt his hands shaking as he waited a moment to be sure, then pulled back, gently releasing Warriors. He seemed no more worse for wear, and Time exhaled, relieved at the sight of both him and Twilight unhurt by the magic.

Twilight was staring at him with a wide-eyed look, but Time ignored it, and somehow got to a shaky knee so he could look around the room. He saw the other Links picking themselves up, wiping blood off injuries, helping others stand.

The water in the pool had stilled, and was now light and clear, faint sparkles drifting on the surface. The whole room seemed brighter now, less oppressively heavy, and Time could feel that the dark magic had been cleansed.

The Great Fairy was nowhere to be seen.

Wild let out a weary cheer from the other side of the room, then listed to the side, Wind barely catching him. They both toppled to the ground, giggling a bit hysterically, and Twilight faintly smiled when Time looked back at him. His descendant still looked worried, but he was just as relieved the fight was over.

Warriors stayed unmoving halfway on his lap, blood still trickling from his brow.

Time swallowed, feeling again every injury he himself had sustained, and he slid back to the floor, placing his hand over Warriors’s again.

His brother’s eyes flickered open, and Time gave him a small smile.

“She’s gone,” he rasped softly, and Warriors exhaled, the sound exhausted with relief. “We did it.”

“You mean you did it,” Twilight added, looking a little awestruck. “I don’t know how you threw the captain and then turned around and shot that arrow barely a second afterwards, but it was mighty impressive.”

“Practice,” Time said with a small smile that hurt to make, and helped Warriors sit up. Warriors held on a bit tighter for a minute, then let go, still trembling just a bit. Time studied him worriedly, but he was interrupted by Twilight fussing over his own wounds, pulling away with a hiss as he touched painful skin. The magic had burned him... more than a bit.

Everyone shuffled their way over to where Time and Twilight were, giving them and Warriors concerned looks. Everyone was at least as bad off as them though, and both Legend and Four were unconscious, so Time thought they were all being rather hypocritical.

A sudden chiming noise rang softly through the room, and the heroes all tensed as the water in the pool rippled. Time recognized it for what it meant, but he still watched in suspicion when a head rose slowly from the water, hair glimmering a soft pink.

Warriors stiffened beside him.

The great fairy’s eyes were clear and bright as she looked around at them all, though her face was lined with a deep sadness. The heroes watched her in silence, hands hovering near weapons, and she let out a heartbroken sigh.

“I’m terribly sorry dear heroes,” the she apologized in a whisper, keeping only her head poking out of the pool. “Such a great darkness fell over me... I was not myself. I see I have only made your situation more dire, and I cannot apologize enough.”

She closed her eyes, and the part of Time that was raised alongside the children of the forest grieved when he saw the shining tear that fell down her cheek.

“I owe you all a debt,” she whispered.

“Healing us might be nice,” Wild spoke up, and Twilight elbowed him.

The Great Fairy didn’t seem offended. “Of course, Hero of the Wilds. It is the least I can do.”

She lifted her hands out of the pool, and as water poured from between her fingers, it faded into gentle sparkles that drifted around the room. They floated around and settled across the hero’s injuries, sweeping them away with a touch like that of flower petals.

Hyrule leaned into them, looking grieved, but calm as the sparkles healed him. Legend watched them in silence when he awoke, as did Four and Twilight, and Wind had a thoughtful look on his face as they sealed a gash on his knee. Sky sighed in relief as they twirled up his broken arm, and Wild faintly smiled when the sparkles trickled up his side, healing whatever the cause of the blood all over his hip was.

Warriors tensed as they reached him, not moving an inch as the sparkles sank in around most of his body. Time kept his hand on his shoulder as they drifted past, and Wind slid up to his side as well, both of them watching as they grew thicker around the captain’s leg and forehead for a few moments. The tiny cuts on his skin were sealed, and the bruises faded until they could only barely be seen.

Time felt his own injuries get healed as well, a smell like honeysuckle and morning dew accompanying the light. They soothed the hurt in his chest from the magic recoil, healed the burns and eased the aches and pains he’d already had in addition.

He waved the sparkles away from his scarred eye once they finished, then turned to help Warriors stand, feeling much more relaxed.

The captain looked relaxed as well, oddly enough, though not as much as everyone else. He still watched the Great Fairy with suspicion, even though his trembling had stilled and his expression had settled back to usual.

And he stiffened again when the Great Fairy’s gaze landed on him once more.

She looked at him steadily, eyes shimmering with remorse, and bowed her head. “My deepest apologies, Hero of the Shattered Eras.”

Warriors nodded, and didn’t look her in the eye.

The Great Fairy waited a moment, as if she was hoping he would verbally respond, then turned her gaze away from him and swept it over the rest of the Links.

“Heroes across the ages, I again offer you my thanks for ridding me of the shadows,” she said, her gaze resting on Time as she spoke. “If you wish to remain here and rest, you are more than welcome to stay as long as you wish. The little wings should return with my release, and I’m sure some would be happy to accompany you.”

“Thank you,” Time said respectfully, and gave Warriors’s shoulder a squeeze. “But we should be moving on. I thank you for your gift of healing, and I’m glad we could be of service.”

The Great Fairy looked disappointed. But she nodded, and with one last grieved look at them all, slipped back into her pool, a few errant sparkles the only thing left behind.

Warriors drooped when it was evident she was truly gone, and Time wasn’t the only one who looked at him with worry. Nobody said anything about it out loud though, just stayed close, and told him they were glad he was okay. Wild thanked him profusely for pushing him out of the way, and Warriors waved him off with a painfully forced smile.

Wind merely leaned on his arm, and Warriors softly ruffled his hair, the sailor looking at him in relief.

They all turned to leave then, beyond ready to get away from the fountain. But a another soft chime caught their attention, making them look back.

A few sparkles were drifting on the edge of the pool, floating together into a vaguely cylindrical shape. The light swirled around, then flashed, before fading away to reveal a small, crystalline bottle, filled with a deep purple liquid.

Looking at it, Time felt oddly sad.

The Links all looked at the bottle with emotion varying from curiosity to suspicion, and Twilight was the one who finally stepped forward and knelt down to pick it up, his eyes going wide as he studied it closer.

“Great Fairy tears,” he said softly, lifting the bottle with great care.

“What do they do?” Four asked, and Twilight looked at the bottle in wonder.

“They heal any wound. And grant a brief blessing to whoever uses them, one that protects from any harm for a short while,” he said, and Legend whistled.

“I can think of some times that would’ve been handy.”

“No kidding,” Wild said with a small glance at Twilight.

“I suppose it’s another apology,” Sky said quietly, and Twilight hummed, about to place the bottle inside of his pack, then hesitated.

“...Do you want to carry it?” he asked, turning to Warriors. “I... have a feeling it was meant for you.”

Warriors shook his head, and looked away. “No. You can take it.”

Twilight didn’t press, and he nodded and gingerly put the bottle away. Everyone took that as the signal to begin making their way out of the restored fairy fountain, and one by one they stepped out into the sunshine.

Time squinted as the light reached his face, and he looked around at the forest they’d emerged into with wonder. It barely seemed like the same place they’d left earlier—it was like a spell had been broken, and life was returning to the plants and very earth around him. Time even heard a bird singing somewhere above their heads.

Everyone was looking around with content expressions, satisfied despite the tired way they held themselves. It was always good to see evil purged from the land. They’d done a good job today, rough as it had been.

Time looked behind him at where Warriors stood back from the others, still-damp hair shining in the rays of sunlight. Time wouldn’t have guessed anything had happened to him, except for the pallor of his skin, and the blood still staining his clothes.

Time moved closer and gently set an arm around his shoulders, light enough that the captain could pull back if he wished. He felt Warriors stiffen at the touch, but then he abruptly leaned into it, his eyes squeezing shut.

“You all right?” Time asked, soft enough to only be heard by Warriors.

“Yes,” Warriors whispered back, slowly breathing in, and then out. Time moved his arm from his shoulders, and turned to face him so he could see him better. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much use in the battle.”

Time felt a sharp prick of guilt, and swallowed. He could still see his brother’s terrified face, the franticness with which he slammed his hands against the bottle, the way he’d been unable to stop shaking after getting out.

How still he’d looked, surrounded by blood and shattered glass.

“It’s hardly your fault,” Time finally replied. “I’m so sorry we weren’t able to free you sooner.”

“You did what you could. I didn’t even know those bottles could break, that was impressive,” Warriors admitted, his expression unreadable. “The light arrows were a good idea. Thank... thank you,” he said in an even softer voice. His shoulders gave one quick shudder, and Time hated how it made him feel. “For getting me out of there.”

Time swallowed, and leaned forward, lightly setting his head against Warriors’s. ”You would do the same, big brother.”

Warriors gave him a hint of a smile, and Time held him just a little closer as they leaned against each other.

They would still need to have a proper discussion of everything, figure out how the Shadow had corrupted a Great Fairy, try to make sure Warriors wouldn’t just brush over this incident like he tended to do. Warriors would doubtlessly try to avoid it, but... the discussion could wait.

For now... Time just wanted to enjoy standing here in the sunshine. The battle won, the danger past.

Warriors closed his eyes, and Time drew him into a proper hug, Warriors letting out a shaky sigh as he let himself be held.

His brother alive and safe beside him.

[nightyraven-art]

I tried to redraw s panel of @linkeduniverse and I choose Twilight, there will be more but for now, enjoy this redraw I did

I just tried to stick to the canon and add a few small hcs on how I draw him!!!

[gingersp1ce547]

A little drawing for the qsmp’s resident arsonist’s b-day

[ra-archives]

I have effectively thrown the prompts out the window and am just doing what I want :D

Lu-tober Day 17

No Prompt Just silly things I found

Nightwing my beloved. Tumblr and Instagram started showing me DC stuff again and I'm living for it, so take some redraw panels with the chain

Anyways notes on each of em

Found that picture of the pin in a Discord I was in and just couldn't shake the urge to draw Twilight after that lmao

I imagine that Twi has picked up many different ways to entertain children people over the years

Found Wild

Why is Time so hard to draw? My mans design is so complicated and for what? Also same

Also couldn't be bothered to draw the last two, but tbh kinda think its funnier like that

[sn0wbat]

sparkle on, tiberius ✨

[cosmo-64]

Love how watching through Michael Sheen’s work always leaves me with one of two thoughts about his characters:

I love you and will adopt you into my personality.

Or

Well, that definitely just happened.

[stormyoceans]

i've abandoned anonymity

but this scene is also gonna happen right. HOW DO WE PLAN TO RECOVER?

HI FRIEND HELLO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY BUT I NEEDED AT LEAST 3 DAYS TO RECOVER FROM EPISODE 5 BEFORE EVEN STARTING TO CONTEMPLATE WHAT AWAITS US IN EPISODE 6 BECAUSE BOY OH BOY WE’RE GONNA BE IN FOR A RIDE SO WE ALL BETTER BUCKLE UP

the way they’re gonna go from outright flirting with each other and being absolutely fond smitten delighted idiot fools in love ready to finally go on an actual dinner date to pain suffering torment agony anguish sadness despair?????

AND I HAVE A HUNCH ON WHO’S TO BLAME FOR THIS [GETS SLIPPER READY] (i don’t wanna reveal too much because while it’s not exactly a spoiler, since it’s a hint from the bts pictures that were shared during filming, i still don’t wanna ruin anyone’s fun)

but then again i’ve been moving like a clown all this time thinking this was gonna be episode 11 WHEN IT’S ACTUALLY EPISODE 6 (INSANITY) so. i could definitely be reading this wrong ;;;;;;;; that picture does seems to be pretty heavy and gloomy and sad BUT WHAT IF IT'S JUST VERY DECEPTIVE AND WE'RE GETTING A CONFESSION INSTEAD

THE POINT IS. IM AFRAID NO AMOUNT OF THERAPY IS GONNA HELP US RECOVER FROM THIS EPISODE OR THIS SHOW IN GENERAL WE SIMPLY HAVE TO ACCEPT OUR FATE

[stars-and-darkness]

hi! may i ask why you don't like TO? i'm still in the process of watching TVD (i've been fighting and clawing my way through season 5 and what the FUCK is this clownery) and i was about to give up and just watch TO because honestly TVD has become so boring without the mikaelsons that not even bonnie and caroline can save it (i also know pretty much everything that happens in the show and i am decidedly NOT a fan of the magical babies and all the other crap), but i've been stalking your blog for half an hour now (not in a creepy way i promise! i just LOVE your fics and fell down a rabbit hole) and it seems like it might not be worth it?

sorry, that was honestly completely incoherent😭. please forgive me, i am having some trouble creating sentences today.

i mean, as i understand it, a magical wonderchild is the CRUX of TO's plot, and personally, i was not willing to subject myself to that. and ever since then, every single thing i have learned about TO has been against my will, and every single thing made has me go ... the fuck???? i'm sorry to say, but the impression i get is that that's a show that turned its characters into carricatures of themselves, twisted the lore into nonsense (as if it had much sense in the first place ...), and suffers from Late Series Syndrome from s1e1. so in a way, maybe i should be thankful to the magical wonderbrat #1 (i shudder to type something like that) for being such an obviously terrible plotpoint that i gave up the idea of watching immediately, so none of the more insidiously terrible plotpoints could get me.

i haven't seen it, and i have come to the conclusion that i'm happier that way, but none of that means you shouldn't watch it if you want to. who am i to tell you what to do? i just don't think you should expect it to be any more interesting than the s5 you're trudging through (and s5 is actually excellent compared to the nonsense that follows, which isn't a great compliment to s5), only infinitely more frustrating.

[x-adoringvoid-x]

Part 3

There they are...

[take-ya-to-the-ghey-bar]

alt! x2 ;; gimme gimme :}

{𝓜𝓮𝓶𝓮~}

Just what was this creature stood before him? It obviously wasn't an Oocca, despite looking perhaps a little similar... Whatever this creature was, however, the wolf couldn't sense any hostility coming from them. And so, while his stance remained slightly guarded-- Link did relax enough to step just a bit closer, stretching toward the other to give a curious sniff.

"And here I thought it was strange enough to see a fish walking around in a suit..." The blonde young man sighed this comment while blue hues stared up at the other before him. This guy was some sorta bird, right?-- Yeah, he had to be... what with the tail feathers and all. "So what're you? An owl or something?" After a beat of silence, he couldn't help but ask the question-- hazarding a guess as well, rather than waiting for the other to actually answer him first.

[butterflyeffectiooon]

Hey quick question did everyone at gmmtv forget how to write good shows or?????

[skyward-floored]

An Argument (Incredibles au)

The last scene in this chunk of movie scenes! Don't know where I'm going to go next, but we'll see where my muse takes me. Time and Malon have an, erm, discussion, and Twilight worries.

Saving the day (prev)

ao3 link

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The drive home was blessedly uneventful, and Time handed Warriors’ car back off to him, his brother clapping him on the arm with a faint grin and a cough. Time sighed and returned the gesture, then watched him drive away with a shake of his head.

Neither of them had expected the evening to be quite so dramatic, and Time had thoroughly chewed out Warriors on the drive home, his brother nodding along with the lecture like he always did when Time went off on him. Warriors hadn’t seemed terribly apologetic though, probably because he knew that Time was mostly venting his frustrations. That or he was too tired to argue in return.

Either way, with their escape clean as could be and neither of them severely injured, Warriors seemed rather unbothered.

And despite how annoyed Time was at the close call and his brother in general, he had to admit that he’d... enjoyed it. Saving people again. Making a difference.

Even if nearly getting caught made him want to smack Warriors upside the head.

Why do I let him drag me along on these? he though with a shake of his head. Because you enjoy it just as much as he does, he brain helpfully reminded him, and Time huffed. Right. That.

Time quietly slipped through his front door, relocking it behind him and hanging his coat up. The house was dark and quiet, and he crept through the kitchen on silent feet, hesitating at the fridge as his stomach let out a growl.

Time shrugged, and yawned to himself as he opened the fridge, looking around for something to eat before heading to bed. Using his powers extensively like he had earlier always gave him a huge appetite, so he grabbed a large slice of cake, munching on it as he walked through the living room.

Then nearly threw it in Malon’s face as she clicked on a lamp and swiveled around on one of their chairs, wearing a bathrobe and an extremely foul expression.

Ah.

Warriors, I’m going to kill you.

“I believe you said you’d be back by eleven?” she said flatly, and Time swallowed the bite of cake that had gotten lodged in his throat. He knew exactly what time it was, and it was way beyond eleven.

“I said I’d be back later,” he clarified carefully.

Malon narrowed her eyes. “I know you said that. But the thing is, if you came back at all... you’d be "back later",” she accented with air quotes.

Ouch, Malon.

Time set down the remaining cake as Malon stood, joining his side. “Well... I’m back now?”

Malon stared at him, then her gaze shifted to his shoulder and her eyebrows went down.

“Is this... rubble?” she asked, dusting a little bit of ash off his arm.

Time took another quick bite of cake (he was starving okay?) then gave a light shrug, trying to stay nonchalant.

“We were just helping some people Malon. It was Warriors’ idea, he needed to get out and I—”

“Honey you know how I feel about you two going out and doing that!” Malon interrupted incredulously. “We can’t blow cover again! What were you thinking?”

Time held his hands out placatingly, swallowing the last bite of cake. “Darling, the building was coming down anyways—“

“You knocked down a building?!” she gasped.

“It was already on fire,” Time leapt to reassure her, “structurally unsound. It was coming down anyway, it wasn’t our faults.”

Malon put a hand to her face and groaned. “Please tell me you two haven’t been listening to the police scanner again.”

Time frowned. “Look, Malon, we helped save people. You act like that’s a bad thing!”

“Doing it like this is a bad thing, Link!” Malon whipped back at him. “Uprooting our family just so you and Warriors can get your fill of superheroing again is a very bad thing!”

“We’re not just “getting our fill of superheroing”, we’re assisting people, helping them,” Time said with narrowed eyes, “people who would have died otherwise. And if I hadn’t gone along then Wars would have gone by himself! Acting like we’re normal isn’t going to change the fact that there are people in this world we can help, Malon.”

Malon looked at him with an incredibly sad expression, though her eyes still sparked with annoyance.

“I know that. But why can’t you do it legally?” she pleaded. “You’re just going to expose us and we’ll have to move our family again.”

“I’ve tried to do it legally,” Time shot back, “they won’t let us! They hate us because of our abilities, you know what happened to Wild! If they won’t let us use them legally than this is the only way to do it!”

“Of course I know what happened to Wild, he still has nightmares about it!” Malon exclaimed. “I’m worried about him, but I’m worried about you too, Link! You’re so concerned with babysitting Warriors and proving supers aren’t dangerous, you forget to pay attention to your own family! Twilight’s having issues with his powers and Wind is having problems at school, and you don’t even want to go to Four’s graduation!”

Time huffed. “It’s not a graduation. He’s moving from the third grade, to the fourth grade.”

“It’s a ceremony!”

“It’s ridiculous!” Time shouted with a wave of his hand. “It’s just yet another way to celebrate mediocrity, there’s no point to it! There’s so many better things we could all be doing with our time!”

“Like what, following your brother around into burning buildings?” Malon snapped. “You’ve got to let Warriors make his own mistakes, Link! I know losing Sky hurt, but it's unfair to Wars that you think he's helpless without you!��

Something in Time crackled dangerously at Sky’s name. “Oh right, like we all thought about Sky? That he could handle it just fine by himself?”

“That is not what I meant Link—”

“He died, Malon! And I will not lose Warriors too!”

“You're losing your sons right now!"

A paper on the coffee table rustled as it fell to the floor.

Time and Malon froze with their faces inches away from each other, and turned to the couch, watching the papers still. Malon closed her eyes and sighed, looking suddenly exhausted.

“All right, Wild. I know you’re listening. Come on out,” she said in a quiet voice.

A few moments went by, and then Wild hesitantly poked his head around the couch. He shuffled forwards in his pajamas, not meeting their eyes, and any of Time’s remaining emotion immediately fled at the look on his son’s face.

“...Legend? Pup?” Time said, looking at a specific corner of the room. “You two as well, come on.”

Twilight padded silently forwards from behind a chair, turning hylian as he joined Wild’s side and gently nudged him.

“Legend, come on, come out. It’s okay, boys. We’re just having a discussion,” Malon said as Legend finally became visible, arms crossed as he slid onto the couch.

“Pretty loud discussion,” he muttered.

“You were talking about Sky,” Twilight said quietly.

Legend and Wild both stilled, and Time and Malon both hesitated as they exchanged a look.

“...yes,” Time said finally. “But it was just a discussion boys, it’s okay. Your mother and I needed to talk. Sometimes we just... talk with an extra...”

“Idiocy?” Malon muttered.

“I was going to say intensity, actually,” Time muttered back.

Malon turned back to their sons, who still looked worried. “We’re sorry we woke you, everything’s okay. Go back to bed, it’s late.”

“I was up anyway,” Wild muttered under his breath, then abruptly turned and went back to his room.

Twilight gave his retreating brother a worried look, then turned back to his parents, looking like he wanted to say something. But he closed his mouth, and let out a soft sigh that was too tired for his age.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, and Legend mumbled a goodnight as well before they both followed Wild out of the room.

Silence fell over Malon and Time as their sons left, and stretched between them, both of them feeling drained and uncertain of what to say.

Time couldn’t remember the last time they’d raised their voices at each other like that.

“They’re not the only ones who should be in bed,” Malon said after a moment, looking at the stairs with a quiet sigh. “We can... talk tomorrow.”

Time nodded, his voice suddenly deserting him, and he didn’t meet her eyes as he walked away, leaving her to quietly turn off the lamp.

(...)

Twilight lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as what he’d heard of his parents’ shouting echoed in his mind and refused to let him sleep.

He’d never heard them argue like that before.

Sure they disagreed sometimes, and had occasional little fights over things, but this... they’d sounded so angry. They never spoke to each other like that, and hearing it made him want to curl up under his blankets with his tail between his legs. Mom had come to check on him a bit after they’d come upstairs, but Twilight had pretended he was asleep, and she’d left again without a word.

Wild let out a small noise from where he was curled up next to him, and Twilight shifted, adjusting his position and sitting up with a sigh.

He felt awful for Wild. He’d already been having a sleepless night before they’d heard their parents shouting, and only just now been able to fall back into a restless sleep. His nightmares had been getting worse lately, and Twilight was at a bit of a loss as how to help aside from comforting him afterwards.

Which was probably why Mom had checked on them.

“Were Mom and Dad fighting?”

Twilight looked up at the quiet question to see Four in the doorway, nervously shuffling his feet as he clutched a blanket around his shoulders.

Twilight let out a small exhale, patting the sheet next to him, and Four climbed up, settling against his arm. It was a bit of a squeeze because of Wild sleeping on Twilight’s other side, but Four was small and they managed to fit without waking him up.

Twilight put his arm around his brother, and held back another sigh. It looked like everyone except Wind had been woken up— on their way upstairs, Twilight and Legend had come across Hyrule sitting on the top steps, his eyes glassy and face pale, and Legend had gone to his room with him and not come back. Twilight assumed he’d fallen asleep in there.

“They were just having an argument, Four. It’s okay,” Twilight said, ignoring how the reassurance felt hollow. “Even Mom and Dad disagree sometimes.”

Four was quiet for a few seconds.

“They disagree a lot more since Sky died,” he whispered eventually, and Twilight swallowed as he pulled him closer.

“Yeah. I know.“

Wild suddenly murmured a little in his sleep, brows pinched, and Twilight ran a hand through his hair, fingers ghosting past the scar on his face. Wild settled back down, and Twilight tugged the blanket further over him.

“Is there anything we can do?” Four asked in a worried voice, clutching at the stuffed animal he’d brought with him. Twilight sighed again.

“I don’t know, Smithy. I think it’s up to them. We just have to hope that they’ll work it out.”

Four swallowed. “...What if they don’t?”

Twilight closed his eyes, and rubbed Four’s shoulder. “They will,” he said confidently, and Four seemed to be reassured, snuggling up closer to him.

Twilight steered them both downwards and let Four nestle into his blankets, doing his best to silence the thoughts clamoring in his head so he could sleep. It was hard, but Twilight squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to believe his own words as Four fell asleep on his chest and Wild’s head pressed against his arm.

They will.

They have to.

[wonderlandflamingo]

This is arguably the best picture I took in Nova Scotia. I probably should have taken more, but apparently I’m not great at remembering to do that

[chahnniesroom]

night again

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in hindsight, visiting chan's studio right before a comeback isn't one of your best ideas. what was supposed to be a pleasant surprise leaves you spiraling into self-doubt, wondering if chan even wants to be in a relationship with you at all.

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, insecurities, reader not eating due to stress

a/n: the long awaited 'he calls you clingy' fic! title is from the english translation of 또 다시 밤 (twilight)

read it on ao3 | masterlist

You love your job. It's challenging for sure and the expectations from upper management are often unforgiving, but you’re proud of how hard you've worked and everything that you've accomplished in the past few years at your company. 

As you've gained experience, you've slowly been given more and more responsibility. You've grown out of your junior role and though you're thrilled by the pay raise and prospect of being a team lead rather than being led by one, it's also daunting.

When you and your new team are assigned an important project with tight deadlines, you're determined to prove yourself. It's implied that you're going to have to have to dedicate a significant amount of time to finish it and while you're no stranger to long hours, it means that any plans you have of seeing your boyfriend, Chan, are out the window.

The timing is not terrible, Stray Kids has a comeback scheduled in about a week so you didn't think that you would be able to spend that much time with Chan anyway, but you usually try to surprise the boys at one of the music shows with a cake and some home cooked food.

Luckily, you've already been planning for this. Although nothing had been confirmed, you had expected that this project would be awarded to your company and you've already been trying to spend more time with Chan than usual in preparation for the busy season ahead for both of you.

Still, you can't help but agree with your best friend at work after she complains how little she's going to see her partner this month. Jinjoo doesn't know who your boyfriend is, but the two of you are close enough that you’ve shared that you have one and that work takes up a lot of his time. You've gushed to her about the sweet things that Chan has done for you and you've admitted that you think he's the one.

“You should bring him dinner sometime!” she exclaims when you mention you're not sure when the next time you'll be able to see Chan will be.

“Well, he’s really busy-” you start to say.

“That’s the beauty of it. I’m sure he would appreciate if you brought him food at work, especially if he’s anything like my partner and gets so caught up with work that they forget to eat sometimes,” she insists.

“That’s true.”

“Just trust me, Y/n. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t sure that it’d work. My partner loves when I do this. It’s literally the perfect way to take some time for each other before you’re both too busy. Even if he's super busy, his work can't be bad enough that he’s not allowed to eat, right?”

You agree somewhat reluctantly. You're still unsure about whether or not Chan would appreciate you barging in unannounced, but it is a cute idea and Jinjoo's confidence is enough to convince you.

The next day after work, you head to the company and order takeout for a late dinner for you and Chan, picking it up along the way. It reminds you of earlier in your relationship before you had gotten your current position and when Stray Kids were just gaining popularity. Both of you enjoyed having more casual date nights that provided more privacy as opposed to going out to fancy places and it makes you even more excited to see his reaction.

About a year after you started dating Chan, he insisted that you get a pass to get into JYP Entertainment without having to fill out a visitor's form and have someone pick you up. It has definitely come in handy more than a few times, although you try to limit the number of visits you make. Even though you're allowed to be there, it still feels intimidating to be in the building, like someone is going to recognize that you're not an employee and accuse you of being a sasaeng.

Luckily the late hour means that you make it to Chan's studio without having to interact with anybody except the security at the door, who had waved you through without a second thought. You had double checked with Felix earlier in the day to make sure that Chan didn't have any schedules or dinner plans, so you directly knock on his door without texting or calling him beforehand. 

“Y/n?” he asks, a bit baffled when he sees you. “Did we- Did I forget that we had plans tonight?”

“No,” you say, a little nervous for some reason. It's just Chan, you tell yourself, but it doesn't make you feel any better. “I didn't think that you had dinner yet and wanted to see you.”

“Oh, I see. Come in,” Chan responds slowly, still processing your sudden appearance. “I just have something that I need to finish up-”

“It's fine! You can work,” you assure him quickly. “I don't want to interrupt you too much, I just wanted to drop by since I don't have plans and wanted to make sure that you're eating well.”

Chan’s studio isn’t messy at all, but he still gets up to clear some space on a side table for you, before returning back to where he has Cubase opened up. You pass over his food and feel relieved when he immediately digs in, but your appetite seems to have vanished, you can only get yourself to pick at your meal.

Chan is short with his responses all evening and continues to work on his laptop, even while eating. It throws you off a bit, you thought that he would be able to get to a stopping point and at least make a bit of time for you, but you did tell him that he could. Even so, you're determined to make the most of the last time that you’re going to see them for a while. You know they’ve been super busy the past few days, or more like the past few weeks, but still you had thought he would be a little bit more engaged or at the very least seem happy to see you.

Finally, after half an hour of eating with minimal conversation, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind this entire time. Chan’s finished his food and you know that you won’t be able to get yourself to eat anymore, so you shuffle everything off to the side and inch closer to Chan. 

“You know that client we’ve been trying to work with for a while?” you start tentatively.

Chan hums noncommittally, continuing to type on his computer. Not quite the reaction that you're hoping for, but you forge on anyway.

“We got awarded the job! It’s a great opportunity for the company and everyone is really excited, but-”

“Y/n,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry, that’s amazing and all, but you know that it’s not a good time for me right now. I have something I really need to work on and now that you’ve finished eating, can we please not bother with the small talk?”

“Oh,” you say, a bit caught off guard. Chan has never been the type to cut you off when you're speaking. “No, yeah, I get it. Uhm. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, just-” he sighs, sounding frustrated. “Next time can you please ask me when you want to visit in advance so this doesn’t happen again? You chose the worst timing to come by. I just need some space, from all of… this,” he says, waving a hand between the two of you.

“Sorry, I know it’s a busy time, but I just wanted to see-”

At that moment, an alarm on Chan's phone goes off, interrupting you. When he turns it off and notices the time, he swears lowly, unlocking his phone and typing out a message to somebody. You’re scared to break the silence. Less than a minute later, someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Chan calls. When Changbin and Jisung step into the room, they eye you curiously. You keep your head down and try to prevent your hands from shaking as you stand and start to haphazardly shove away all your belongings and the garbage from your dinner into bags. 

“Noona, it's good to see you!” Jisung says brightly, although his smile dims when you make eye contact and can only manage to weakly return the smile. “Sorry for interrupting you two.”

“Hi Hannie,” you reply quietly, not wanting to make conversation, but not wanting to be rude.

“It’s okay, Y/n was just leaving,” Chan says, his obvious annoyance making things even more awkward.

You say bye to the boys quietly and apologise as you shuffle past them to the door.

The handles of the bag from your dinner are digging into your hand painfully and your purse can’t close with the way that you’ve thrown everything into it. You only take a few steps before you have to stop for a moment to save a container from falling and decide to put down everything and reorganise it all.

When you crouch down, you take a second to mentally berate yourself. Everything you had worried about had come true. Instead of being a pleasant surprise, you had come across as a nuisance.

In your rush, you hadn't fully closed the studio door behind you and you're close enough that you can just barely pick up the conversation that happens inside.

“Sorry,” you hear Chan say faintly. “I don't know what's been going on, but Y/n has been… really clingy these days. She just showed up today without asking and I hate-”

You leave before he has the chance to say anything else. You look like a mess for sure, you had just grabbed all the empty containers without bothering to put them back into the plastic bag, your jacket is partially dragging on the ground, and your purse is hanging off your elbow, having slipped off your shoulder. You're pretty sure you hear an empty drink bottle clatter to the floor behind you, but you don't look back to check.

You don't have it in you to care, you just need to leave.

Even waiting for the elevator feels humiliating, so you bypass it and stumble down the stairs. You dump the garbage into a bin on the first floor, not bothering to sort it properly, and step out onto the street, bee-lining to the nearest subway station.

The ride home passes by in a blur.

It hurts, of course it hurts. 

Honestly the reason that your relationship had worked out so far was because you weren’t the kind of person that needed a lot of attention. You understood that both of you were busy and were content to just exchange messages every couple of days because you knew how important Stray Kids was to Chan. Of course you did, they were just as important to you.

If Chan wanted space, well. You were more than capable of giving it to him.

In fact, your upcoming schedule had been the reason that you had wanted to meet up in the first place, the source of your so-called clinginess. You’d never been called that before. You were hyper-independent and tended to get lost in your own mind, easily distracted by different thoughts. It had gotten to a point that most of your exes had complained at least once about you being distant or inattentive.

With Chan, you had been determined not to be the same. It had been difficult at first, to make the effort to send messages throughout the day. You had to convince yourself not to spend too long drafting replies in your head and try not to worry that you were bothering him, especially if you knew that he had schedules at the same time that you were texting.

By the time that you make it to your apartment, your pain has faded into a mixture of resignation and numbness. You don't want to talk to Chan about how you feel, it's your clinginess that he didn't like in the first place, and you don't think you'll have time or the energy for a long, emotional conversation in the next few weeks anyway. If you keep your distance for a while, it just benefits both of you, you tell yourself. You won’t be a distraction to Chan as Stray Kids has their comeback and he won’t be one to you as you take on this new project. 

As much as you want to spend the rest of your night overthinking- something you’ve done more than you’d like to admit- you know that you have a busy day at work tomorrow. Feeling a bit like a zombie, you force yourself to shuffle through your usual nighttime routine, swallowing a melatonin pill before climbing into bed.

Normally, you would send Chan a good night message. Actually, normally you would have sent him a message the second that you arrived home. It was something that he was insistent on starting from early on in your relationship, wanting to make sure that you were safe.

Tonight, you just turn off your phone, plug it into its charger, and sleep.

—

In the morning, you allow yourself to wallow in bed for 5 minutes, before you get ready for work. You’ve never been good at eating breakfast and today’s no exception. Your stomach turns uneasily at the thought of food so you only force yourself to drink some water before you leave.

Your team at work has agreed to get to work earlier than usual just to get a headstart on everything. Though you’re more of a night owl, you’re grateful to find that deviating from your usual routine means that the subway is empty enough that you can find an empty seat, a luxury that you’ve rarely experienced.

It feels eerie to walk through the streets of Seoul when the sun has just started to rise and you’re relieved when you finally make it to your office.

Unsurprisingly, you’re one of the first to arrive. You’re grateful for the time that you have to unpack your things and make a much needed coffee before the rest of your team shows up.

“How did it go last night?” Jinjoo asks you excitedly when she comes in.

“Uhm, it was okay,” you reply noncommittally. “He was definitely surprised.”

“Oh,” Jinjoo pouts at your lack of enthusiasm.

“I mean, it wasn’t bad,” you backtrack, hating to see her disappointed. “It was just so short, he was kind of… busy. But that’s what I expected anyway so that's fine I guess. Thanks for suggesting it to me though! I really appreciate it.”

“That’s good,” Jinjoo brightens. “At least you got to see him one last time.”

“Oh yeah for sure! I think that after seeing him yesterday, it’ll be easier to deal with how busy we’re going to be for the next few weeks,” you say truthfully. 

It’s not a lie, you justify. For the first time since you started dating, you’re not looking forward to the next time that you’re going to see Chan.

You know that your communication is about to reduce to an all time low for the next few weeks, and while you had originally been worried about how Chan would react, now you’re thinking that he’s just going to be relieved not to hear from you. You’ve never thought yourself to have been overly chatty with Chan during the day though, preferring in-person conversation over texting and knowing that he’s generally not available to read your messages anyway, much less send you a reply. It seemed that you were wrong. 

Luckily your team now has to use a shared box that you’re required to put your personal phones into during working hours and only have a little bit of time during lunch and dinner breaks, if you take them, to fish them out. It’s a policy that your company enforces when teams are working on confidential projects and you can’t blame them due to past litigation that they’ve been involved in after a former employee leaked sensitive information.

For once, you're glad for this excuse to not look at your phone, even if you feel a little bit naked to look at the side of your desk or reach into your pocket and not have your phone there. You’re relieved to bury yourself in your work and forget all about your personal life. Even though your project is just starting, you feel like you're already behind. 

When you're finished work for the day and take back your phone, you find yourself reluctant to check your notifications. It's only when you're waiting for the subway to arrive at your station that you finally force yourself to take a look.

No new messages or calls from Chan.

You’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you’re still disappointed.

You get back to your apartment late, you had wanted to finish a couple of things before you left the office and it had led to you being one of the last to leave. You had also stopped by the convenience store closest to your place, not having the energy to cook anything for yourself.

You pick at your dinner half-heartedly. You're used to eating alone, Chan often had his meals at odd times due to his schedules, but tonight the silence feels more oppressive. 

It haunts you, the tail end of the overheard conversation. You have no idea how Chan was going to complete the sentence, but your mind unhelpfully fills in the blanks with worse and worse suggestions.

He hates the timing of your visit.

He hates that you visited at all.

He hates that he has such a clingy girlfriend.

He hates that you are his clingy, annoying, bothersome girlfriend.

He hates you.

In moments of clarity, you can recognize that it's not true. That's not the Chan that you know and he would never say something like that about anybody, least of all you. It's just hard when a small part of you has never really been able to believe that someone as talented and amazing as Chan would want to date someone as unremarkable as you.

You find yourself falling into a new routine, waking early, working overtime, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep. You succeed most of the time, you keep yourself occupied by thinking about work and you're so physically exhausted by your long hours that you fall asleep the second that you get into bed. Luckily, your coworkers are just as overworked as you are and it’s easy to blame your declining condition on the project. Weekends don't help you rest at all, you've committed to your manager that you can work on Saturdays and Sundays are spent completing the chores that you've neglected during the week.

You still talk to Chan sometimes, either right when you wake up or on the way home after work. The conversation is stilted though, both because of the long delays between messages when you text and the limited time that you have when you call. It's enough of a difference that Chan asks you multiple times if everything is okay. Even though you try your best to assure him that you're fine, just busy, you're sure he knows that something is off, although he doesn't question you further.

Most exciting is the day that the new Stray Kids album releases. You've already heard most of the songs for this comeback, perks of dating the member that's the most involved in the writing and production of the album, but it's different now that they're available to the public too. You make sure to organise your schedule so that you're on break when the music video drops and you send a number of messages in the group chat that you have with the group cheering them on. Usually, you try to take a day off to deliver some food to them at the music shows, but you've had to settle for arranging with one of their managers to treat them to a meal.

You can tell when they get breaks because when you check your phone after work, notifications from the members are all in the same blocks of time. It's mostly them thanking you, taking pictures of the food you sent, flowers that they've been gifted, and letters from fans. They have a short promotion period this comeback, but it's packed with different interviews, performances, and fanmeets. At one point, Felix even sends you a picture of Chan sleeping slumped over on one of the waiting room couches. As much as you're relieved to see that he's able to get some rest, the picture has your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

You're proud of Chan, of all of the boys. They've worked so hard and each comeback seems to be more and more successful. Even if you're not confident in what's going to happen with you and Chan in the future, you want to celebrate with them while you still can.

—

After almost four weeks, your project is nearing completion and you've never been more grateful to have a deadline arrive.

You only have a couple more days left until your last submittal is due and after getting off work, you want nothing more than to collapse into bed even though your stomach has been growling the whole walk from the bus to your building. You had caught a significant mistake in a document right before it was going to be sent to a client and the whole afternoon had been spent trying to fix it in time. Your team had just barely managed it, but your head has been pounding for hours and your whole body is tight with stress.

You’re not quite sure how you make it to your apartment, your exhaustion has made you clumsy. You struggle a couple times to enter in the code to unlock your door and trip over a pair of shoes that are scattered in the entryway.

You manage to catch yourself before you fall, then squint back. Yes, you haven’t had the chance to tidy your apartment in a couple weeks, but you’ve never been the type to leave your shoes on the walking path.

A light is on, further in your apartment. You know for a fact it wasn’t like that when you left this morning, it would have been obvious since you've been leaving before the sun rises. Someone else is here.

You stare at the light for a few seconds in disbelief, then slowly reach to grab something, anything that you might be able to use to defend yourself. Your shaking hands close around a full sized umbrella that you keep beside your closet. 

You’ve already made enough commotion that there’s no way the intruder didn’t hear, but you try to keep your footsteps light as you creep down the hall to where your kitchen is. It’s stupid to try and confront them, but the idea of someone in your space, potentially taking your things, is enough to inspire a sudden bout of bravery.

You hold your breath as you turn the corner, launching forward to attack the second that you see someone. You recognise the figure halfway through your swing, and though it’s too late to fully stop, you manage to pull back enough that they’re able to easily catch the umbrella before it hits them.

Chan wraps his arms around you then eases the umbrella out of your hands, resting it against the wall. You sag into his embrace, adrenaline draining away, leaving you exhausted again. 

“Chan?”

You've missed this. His warmth, his comforting scent, the reassuring steadiness that he always provides. You can almost pretend that everything is fine.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he says, sounding more amused than apologetic.

“You should be,” you grumble into his shirt. “I could have seriously injured you if I didn't realise it was you!”

“I don't think that was going to be a problem.” Even though you can't see Chan, you can hear the grin in his voice.

“Hey!” You lightly smack his arm. “You take that back!”

“Fine, fine,” Chan acquiesces, holding up both his hands in surrender. “I'm very glad that I didn't have to experience the full power of your self defence.”

“Yeah yeah,” you huff. “What are you doing here anyway? Other than trying to give me a heart attack, that is.”

“I made you dinner,” Chan says shyly, turning pink.

“For what?” you ask suspiciously. It's easy to fall back into the banter that you typically exchange with Chan, but you can't help but be a bit wary these days.

“No reason. I uh, just haven't seen you in a while,” Chan says sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck where it’s now flushed red. “We had so much preparation to do and then all our schedules… Anyway, I wanted to surprise you, so I thought I could cook for us.”

Now that he's mentioned it, you can see that he's set your tiny kitchen table and that there's a couple of pots on the stove. Chan doesn’t cook often, but he’s expressed a desire to learn before and you’ve taught him how to make a few of your favourite recipes.

You stare at him for a moment, lost for words.

It's only been a few weeks, but you feel like you've forgotten how to act around Chan. Instead of a comfortable silence, it's almost awkward, neither of you knowing what to say.

“Oh,” you say finally, touched and still a little shocked that he's actually here. “That's- that's so nice, I just- is it okay if I wash up a bit quickly first?”

“No, yeah, of course. I'm sure you had a long day,” Chan says. “Go ahead, I’ll- the food should be reheated anyway so I’ll get on that. Take your time.”

You skirt around him to go to the bathroom, taking a moment to splash yourself with water. This feels like a bizarre dream and you wonder for a moment if you’re making this all up. But when you leave to go to your bedroom, Chan’s still there, puttering around in front of your kitchenette. You change your clothes slowly, mind racing as you try to puzzle together why Chan has decided to visit all of a sudden.

You eventually settle on the most logical reason that you can think of.

He’s finally decided to break up with you.

You’ve figured that this was coming for weeks by now, but somehow it still hurts. Instead of feeling resigned, it feels like you’re shattering into little pieces. You twist your work blouse into a tiny ball as you try not to cry, even though you know the fabric is going to wrinkle terribly. You finish cleaning up in a daze, already drafting what you're going to have to message your manager later. There's no way that you're going to be in any shape to work tomorrow if you’re right.

“Y/n?” Chan calls eventually. You know you're procrastinating leaving your room, but you want to put this off for as long as possible even though you know it’s just delaying the inevitable. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a heavy heart. “I’m fine. I'll just be another second.”

You can tell that Chan doesn’t quite believe you. He hovers around you when you emerge from your bedroom, knocking away your hand when you try to pull out your own chair from the table.

He's set the table, going so far as to fold little napkins under your utensils. There's even a tiny vase with your favourite flowers as a centrepiece. All this effort just hurts more.

“You look exhausted. You got home so late. Where were you?” he asks.

“I was at work,” you reply stiffly. You know that if you try and say any more, your emotions are going to spill over and you're either going to scream or cry. Maybe both.

“So late?” Chan's forehead creases with some sort of emotion. You can't quite tell if it's concern or scepticism.

“You're not the only one that has a demanding job.”

“Y/n, you know that's not what I meant-”

“Sure,” you say. “Whatever, let's just eat. Thank you for the food.”

You don't want to deal with this. You're so tired.

You have no idea why Chan’s dragging this out longer than it needs to be. Why he’s forcing you to sit through a meal with him like he’s not about to break your heart. Chan is one of the kindest people you know, he’s probably trying to make this easier for you, giving you one last nice memory, but it just feels cruel.

Chan reaches out, stopping you before you can pick up your chopsticks. He stares at the way his fingers overlap each other around your wrist.

“You’ve lost weight,” he says quietly. You look away, watching steam curl from the bowl of rice that has been set in front of you instead of returning eye contact.

“I’ve been busy.” Is all you can say in response. 

You don’t want to tell him that you’ve been basically subsisting on iced americanos and various convenience store meals in part because of your work schedule, but mostly because of your lack of appetite. Every time you thought of Chan, it made your stomach turn and well, everything reminded you of him. You hadn’t realised how much it had actually affected your physical condition until now though.

“You're not taking care of yourself,” he scolds you. You can feel yourself bristle at his comment even though you know it’s true. “I haven't been around to take care of you either. I'm sorry.”

“Chan,” you protest. It has been weeks since you last saw him in person and you’ve spent more time that you’d like to admit micro analysing your relationship, but you still can’t make sense of his behaviour, especially how he keeps switching between criticism and tenderness.

“What?” he asks in genuine confusion.

“Why are you here?”

“I missed you,” Chan says, sounding hurt and confused. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I just- I don’t understand what you want from me!” You run your hands through your hair in frustration. “One day you don’t want me around, we go weeks without seeing each other, then you’re at my place cooking me dinner? You said you needed space, I gave you space."

“Woah woah woah, what do you mean I don’t want you around?” Chan asks, alarmed. “When have I ever said that?”

“You made it pretty clear that you didn’t appreciate it when I went to bring you dinner that day,” you start.

“No, baby!” Chan stands up abruptly before you can say anything else. He falters when the loud scrape of his chair causes you to flinch back. He slowly walks towards you and kneels in front of you, reaching out to hold your hands in his. His eyes are wide with earnestness. “Of course I wanted to spend time with you. I always want to be with you.”

“So why did you call me clingy?” you ask in a small voice. Gone is your anger, replaced with a self-consciousness that you can’t hide. You look away as tears prickle your eyes.

Gently, Chan lets go of your hands and cups your cheeks instead, turning your face so that he can see you better. His thumbs swipe under your eyes, brushing away the tears that have managed to escape.

“Baby,” he says, sounding even more upset and angry than you feel. “I'm sorry. Did someone tell you I said that?”

“Nobody had to tell me, I heard you say it myself!” you burst out, pushing Chan away. You know that you’re being dramatic, that you keep oscillating between different emotions, but you don’t care. “That day, in your studio, you told Han and Changbin that I was really clingy.”

“You heard me talking to Binnie and Hannie?” Chan asks slowly.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sniffle. One of Chan's hands shifts and he carefully tucks behind a lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face. The gentleness makes even more tears well up.

“It's okay, I think I know what you overheard now. It must have hurt, right?”

You can't muster up a response, choosing instead to just nod slightly.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” he soothes you. “Can I explain myself?”

You pause for a moment, then slowly nod again.

“I don't mind that you're clingy, actually, I like it. I shouldn't have used that word. I like that you want to spend time with me, Y/n,” Chan says carefully. “I like that you take time to visit me, even though I know that your work is busy too. I think that it's cute and thoughtful that you think of me and try to take care of me by bringing me food. I know that you intentionally take the time out of your day to text me because you know that I like hearing from you, even though I might not see it or respond right away.”

Chan pauses for a second and you use it as an opportunity to pull away slightly. His hands tighten briefly, before he lets them fall away, giving you the space to process.

It's not that you don't like what Chan is saying, it's just hard to reconcile it with the thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past few weeks. You still don't understand what you overheard though, how it fits into all of this. When you voice your concerns to Chan, he sighs, before continuing to speak.

“I don't know what I did to have someone as caring and thoughtful as you in my life.” You want to protest, but Chan carries on before you can say anything. “It's just that- you visited me without notice and were the sweetest person in the world. I wanted to spend time with you, believe me, I did, but I can't just ignore my deadlines when the rest of the members are relying on me. It makes me feel like garbage when I can’t give you all my attention. That's the thing I hate the most. That I can't be the boyfriend that you deserve. That I can't show you how much you mean to me the way that I want to.”

It makes sense, in some sort of twisted way. You know that similarly to you, Chan often feels insecure. It had taken a while before you had been able to convince him that you really did want to be in a relationship with him even with all of the difficulties that were associated with being an idol. You hadn't realised that your visit had fed into his worries that he wasn’t enough.

“I didn't know,” you say quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, I didn't tell you how I was feeling and that's on me. I’m the one that’s sorry, you have no reason to be. I should have been clearer about what was going through my mind and it wasn't any excuse for the way that spoke to you. Even if I wasn't at my best, I can't believe that I made you feel like I didn't want you to be around.” Chan shakes his head and you can tell that he's beating himself up about it. This time, you're the one that reaches out to him, grabbing one of his hands in both of yours.

“I am sorry that I put you into that position, though. I got caught up in the idea of how fun and romantic it might be, that I didn't give enough consideration to your schedule. Even though I wanted to surprise you, it would have been better to check with you beforehand. I don't ever want you to have to feel like you have to choose between me and work.”

“It was a really nice surprise,” Chan agrees. “I wish that I hadn't been so wrapped up that I wasn't able to enjoy spending time with you. I really hated not being able to see you these past few weeks.”

“It was really hard for me too,” you admit.

“I missed you so much. I missed your beautiful voice, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile. I missed all the texts that you usually send, they make me feel like I'm not as far away, that I'm a part of your day too. You kept saying that everything was fine and- I know it's hard for you, especially during comeback periods when I'm not as responsive. I didn't want to pressure you into messaging me more often if I'm not able to do the same.”

“No, it's not that. It doesn't bother me. Work was, is still really busy for me,” you explain. “I was trying to tell you that day, but-”

“But I basically shut you down,” Chan realises. He laughs bitterly. “I’m just the worst, aren't I? No wonder you were so confused by why I was here.”

“I thought you were going to break up with me tonight,” you whisper. Chan looks devastated by your statement.

 “No- you know I wouldn't-” Chan stumbles on his words in his haste to correct you.

“I don't think that anymore,” you reassure him. “I understand everything now, it was just that we didn't communicate well and I assumed… It's okay, we're together now, this won't happen again.”

“I promise that I will make it up to you. I love you and I will prove it to you in every way possible. And I'm going to start right now. You still haven't eaten yet, please go ahead.” Chan moves back to his abandoned chair and doles out a portion of the stew from the pot that's on the table. 

“I am really hungry,” you confess. Your stomach chooses that exact moment to growl loudly and the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. 

Just like that, it feels like things are back to normal.

You know that there's still more that you and Chan have to talk about. The two of you have only scratched the surface on your insecurities, communication, and how those things led to such a significant misunderstanding.

But tonight, it's enough that you get to share a meal with the man that you love.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[swordgrace]

& 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ gwayne hightower x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: you and your husband decide to take advantage of the quiet gardens near the red keep.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: drabble — requested by anonymous.

{ WORD COUNT: 4.1K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), porn with little plot, risk of getting caught, semi-public sex, gwayne is a switch, cunt-drunk gwayne, sex in the red keep gardens, teasing, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, groping, making out, dirty talk, mild praise kink, p in v sex (unprotected), mild scratching, soft ending.

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am on the Gwayne train right now, I just adore writing for him. This is a smaller story, and I think writing some drabbles might do me a bit of good! I hope that you all enjoy! ❤️ Thanks so much for the love & support!

𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐩, 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚.

The smell was akin to a perfumed dowager, the air thick with roses and honey, petals drifting along in the evening breeze. It was a stark contrast to the pungent scent of the rest of the city — perhaps that is why you favored the gardens.

Orange tendrils of a waning sun spread across the leaves, verdant and bright, turning the gardens all sorts of colors — shades of emerald and gold, intermingling with the many flowers there.

Most souls that had occupied the gardens had made themselves scarce, turning it into a paradise that only you shared with another. You often admired the general splendor even when it was crowded, but now, it gave you a rather unobstructed view.

The various palette of the gardens, particularly any deeper shades of forest-green, matched that of your husband’s doublet, embroidered with golden thread. It was strange to see Gwayne removed from his armor, his silvery vassal that kept him well-protected.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, there were days spent in respite, much to your delight. Though, war would steal him away from you again — you intended on making the most out of each moment, beseeching him to remain by your side. He obliged you, fortunately, and you never objected to it.

A golden hour, brightest before dusk, painted you in shades that Gwayne had committed to memory, your features bathed in dying light. You were swathed in gowns of cerulean, a deeper shade of azure that had brought him to heel when you emerged with it on.

Merrily, he often touted that he had the most beautiful wife in all of the realm, and such a sentiment didn’t change nor waver. It was resolute, done with a fondness that made its way to you.

“Perhaps, once this conflict comes to a close, you and I shall return to Oldtown,” Gwayne’s gallant resonance cut through the contented silence, his timbre often filled with regality, the elegant poise of a well-learned Knight. “I’ve grown surfeited by this grisly place.”

If Gwayne had not been so proficient with a blade, you suspected that a quill and his sharp tongue would’ve done him a world of good in another lifetime. His flowery speech had charmed you time and time again, and you were left captivated.

Oldtown had become your home, a sanctuary of which you and Gwayne had built a peaceful life together. With Prince Daeron in your care, it was something of a family — one that you suspected would grow in the near future.

“As have I,” With a gentle sigh, your fingers danced along his velvet-clad forearm, your arm interlaced with his as he led you through the teeming labyrinth. At twilight, it had become wonderfully quiet, a place of solace away from the bustling hum of the Red Keep. “It is a dour place.”

Dour was a mere understatement — Gwayne knew what harm this city could do, crushed beneath the oppressive weight of the Red Keep. Even in its architectural splendor, it remained a shadow, haunting your every step as it loomed above the both of you.

Even in the sanctuary of the Gardens, one could not escape it. He did not envy his sister for being sequestered here for most of her lifetime — he imagined that it likely led to a path of misfortune and frustration. Being in Oldtown, he could afford many liberties, freedoms that weren’t permitted in King’s Landing.

As you continued on your path, a stone terrace opened before you, a comely overlook with a sizable gazebo, marked by dimly-lit torches. Save for the picturesque view of Blackwater Bay, it was surrounded by foliage and flora on all sides.

Gwayne felt your concern in waves, an unspoken sentiment, knowing that he would be called to leave again. Cole’s armies were rallying to march to Harrenhal, and he was summoned to ride alongside him, the second-in-command. You had made your disdain for this known, and Gwayne couldn’t fault you for it.

“I would sorely dislike it if our time together was to be spent in silence,” He watched you through cerulean hues as you rounded the gazebo, moving toward the overlook. Waves gently lapped at the outcropping of rock, breaking upon it, saltwater kisses peppering your cheeks. “I have a duty, dearest.”

A begrudging sigh tore past your lips, and you staved off the sudden onslaught of turmoil. You had come to-terms with the inevitability of his departure — you had dealt with it once before, but the sting never lessened. “I understand. I loathe you and love you for it.” You murmured, your smile threadbare.

Your answer retained a twinge of lightheartedness to it, in the face of a bleak future. Gwayne couldn’t help but scoff, visage dancing with amusement as he stepped toward one of the massive walls of gardenias. Plucking a pale blossom from its stem, he crossed the stone to you, a gesture of affection.

“Loathe me, is that it?” Gwayne wouldn’t have your last moments together spent in melancholy — and you seemed to be in agreement. He placed the blossom behind your ear, carefully tucking it into place. “Have I vexed you so easily?”

Planting a palm against his chest, you allowed your fingertips to trace across plated velvet, dancing toward the Hightower sigil, embroidered into the collar. He was resplendent in noblemen’s garb, painfully handsome and fresh-faced, save for the healing cut upon his lip and bruised brow.

A taut, muscled arm moved to snake around your waist, effortlessly caging you in against him. Your saccharine scent invaded his senses, swarming around his head like a thick haze, one that he delighted in. Beneath the evening sky, he made his ardor for you known, a real and living thing.

“You are swift to credit yourself, husband. I may resort to knocking you from your pedestal.” You teased, tender voice growing softer, a mere purr to his ears. Gods, you were wonderfully divine — Gwayne brazenly squeezed your hip through your gowns, auburn brows lifting in amusement.

Instead of puffing his chest with a playful retort, Gwayne could no longer resist the tempting curve of your lips, craning down to kiss you. It was a sweet mingling of mouths, slow and exploratory, happy to take their time with one another.

The first inklings of an amorous heat crackled between the both of you, a rapturous hunger that hadn’t been sated since he returned from Rook’s Rest. You simply could not get enough of your beloved husband, hands clamoring from his plush doublet to his mane of copper tresses, gripping them tightly.

Even with the thicker material of your dress, Gwayne greedily grasped at your curves, able to feel the pliant swell of your physique beneath. You had already seduced him with your steep necklace and ample bosom — sometimes, you were more of a salacious minx than you were a maiden. He enjoyed you both ways.

Your chambers in the Red Keep seemed so far away, and neediness began to take root, desire flourishing where propriety could not. As you insistently tugged upon his auburn locks, Gwayne felt his cock stir to life within his trousers, twitching as if to remind him of his carnal need for you.

“Incomparable, I must confess,” Gwayne exhaled, hot breath fluttering across your visage. Hints of wine retained their presence upon his tongue, skin smelling of woodland musk and fine soaps. “Not a single wandering eye to find us here.” His timbre dropped into a delectable purr, lips pressing themselves to the curve of your jaw.

Exhilaration struck at the pit of your stomach, coupled with the familiar wave of arousal, its inklings slick and warm between your legs. “What are you implying, husband?” You asked, breathy and wanton, clinging to him like a drowning woman.

A low, teasing hum slipped betwixt his lips, mouth molding to your flesh, gliding across the slender column of your throat. One hand dropped to cup your derrière through the thicker material of your dress, longing to see it around your feet, instead.

A sheepish moan tore past your mouth, unabashedly stoking the fire that simmered between the both of you. Gwayne greedily lapped at your sweet skin, like a thick honey upon his tongue. “It is just you and I, sweetling. Might you indulge me?” He hummed, desperate to have you now that desire had taken hold.

Gods, you wanted him terribly.

It was a fascinating twist, with Gwayne wanting to have you here, given the publicity of the locale. He was often a man to take you to your chambers in the name of chivalry, but this daring, yearning side to him — you quite enjoyed it, his change of heart.

“Gods, I love you.” You sighed, feeling him relocate the both of you towards one of the thick, stone columns that held the gazebo aloft. It was rough against your back, but you cared little for it, hastily unlacing the bodice of your dress. The silken smallclothes you wore beneath would suffice.

A low, stifled groan escaped Gwayne’s mouth, cerulean hues sharp and amatory, roving over you with a thinly-veiled desire. “Seven Hells, you drive me to the brink of madness, wife.” He murmured, swiftly relieving you of that mound of azure velvet.

The simple slip you wore beneath clung to your curves, accentuating your physique in pale shades of ivory, nipples peeking through the thin material. His hand slithered beneath, seeking to find the slick heat of your cunt, pushing your legs apart with his thigh.

Gathering your slip within your hands, you tugged the material up, until it pooled around the swell of your hips, giving him unhindered access. Gwayne careened forward, mouth colliding with yours, lips desperately craving every fiber of your being.

His other hand moved to cup your breast through your gown, thumb languidly swiping over your pebbled nipple, teasing the bud as he rolled it between his fingers. A sharp, noisy gasp escaped you, followed by the unrestrained sound of a moan.

Your hands clamored to perch atop his shoulders, sinking down into the velvet, longing to see him naked. If you closed your eyes, it was easy to imagine, but you desired the real thing. With haste, your digits slipped toward the line of golden clasps along the front, aiming to get it unbuttoned.

“You minx.” Gwayne panted into your mouth, digits beginning to stroke along your slit. Much to his delight, you were already warmed, wet and honey-thick upon his fingers. Lips twined in hot clashes, and he never allowed it to devolve into something sloppy. Each kiss possessed meaning, a fervent love for you.

As you unclasped his doublet, he moved his arms enough to relinquish the stuffy weight of the fabric, musculature lean and taut, his skin pale and glittering in the gentle twilight. It let you squeeze his shoulders, tracing over the freckles there, reveling in his bare flesh.

Gwayne released a few breathy ‘I love you’s’ into your lips, before he relocated to the sensitive column of your throat. He spoke with reverence, as if he had come to worship his goddess, lay himself down at your feet. Your fingers wove themselves against the nape of his neck, tugging on his copper locks.

Practiced, dexterous digits continued to caress along your cunt, before pushing past your folds. He grazed your clit, sending a rush of goosebumps cascading down the length of your spine. “Gwayne,” You moaned, the sweetest melody to his ears as you rocked forward, desperate for any shred of friction. “Please!”

His cock twitched again within his breeches, aching with something powerful, needing to be inside of you. Patience was his virtue and his agony — he still wanted to taste your first. He continued to knead into your breast, evoking another blissful whine from you.

Despite wearing his honor and chivalry like a coat of armor, he cared little for the consequences of potentially being caught. He would ravish his beloved wife here in these gardens — there was no sin in such an act. Kissing along your jugular, he felt you grip and pull on his hair, filling him with an excitable fire.

“Gods, I must taste you,” Gwayne groaned, voice tinged with an alluring husk, palm continuing to caress the plush swell of your breast. The thin, silken strap of your slip began to sag, and he did not fix it, exposed to the unblemished plane of your collarbone. “If you will permit me to do so.”

“You needn’t ask, husband,” A wanton whimper left you when Gwayne’s digits abandoned your cunt, though it would soon be replaced with the fine heat of his greedy tongue. Through a lovesick gaze, you observed in rapturous silence as Gwayne sank to his knees, as if he were preparing to pray. “I belong to you.”

Watching his auburn crown move towards the apex of your thighs was a most tantalizing sight, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. Molten heat surged within your belly, churning with a violent anticipation as you braced one hand atop his shoulder.

A sight to die for, to kill for — Gwayne would’ve fought a thousand battles if it meant that you were the reward at the very end, a resplendent maiden in all of your glory. He would’ve endured torture unimaginable for you, razed down armies, destroyed cities all for you.

The first lap of his tongue caused your knees to buckle, raking hot embers across your cunt. He wedged his way in between your legs, shoulders keeping you apart just enough. Gwayne was quite candid about his enjoyment of tasting you — thoroughly cunt-struck.

A groan stirred within his chest as your fingers grazed through his copper tresses, finding their purchase near the base of his skull. He did not relent, tongue carefully splitting past your folds, greeted by the saccharine onslaught of your arousal.

“Gwayne.” A breathy sigh tore past your parted lips, lulled into subservience from the steady, exploratory laps of his tongue. He was sluggish, allowing the anticipation to mount, nose brushing along your mound.

Your taste was ambrosial, thick and heady, like a haze that he had no desire to escape from. There were many moments where he’d dreamed of this, on the march to Rook’s Rest, sprawled across his cot, fantasizing of you again and again.

He quite enjoyed the way in which you sighed his name, passion bubbling forth from your chest, head rolled back against the stone column. Careworn palms reached for your haunches, delighted to take their fill of you, caressing along the backs of your thighs.

“Exquisite,” Gwayne exhaled, catching his breath to press a string of kisses all along the inside of your thighs. “By the Seven, you taste divine.” He groaned, drunk and dizzy from your cunt. A soft moan escaped you as you coaxed him back, and he willingly obliged.

With another hot, eager lap of his tongue over your core, your knees rattled like leaves in the breeze, feeling his shoulders bully their way between your legs. A brusque, warm breeze fluttered throughout the gazebo, bathed in the waning light of the sunset. Stars began to glisten overhead, unhindered by the clouds.

Gwayne’s eagerness was palpable, able to be felt as he buried his face into your cunt, cerulean eyes fluttering shut in an expression of bliss. A groan stirred within his throat, fluttering throughout his chest as you fisted his auburn tresses, soft beneath your palms.

You could not get enough of him, keeping your hands on him in whatever way you could, chest heaving with wanton sighs. Carnality and desire permeated the air, the atmosphere thick with desperation. You always treated each moment as if it would be your last.

His mouth fervently worked against your slick cunt, sending pleasant shockwaves into the pit of your stomach. Goosebumps danced along your spine, followed by a shiver that made you moan. Your hips rolled forward, shamelessly grinding yourself into your husband’s waiting lips.

With a flick of his tongue, Gwayne sought the pearl of your cunt, lips eagerly kissing their way to your clit. He planted feather-light kisses around that sensitive clutch of nerves, causing you to tremble, digits tightening within his hair. Your grip was ironclad, but it was pleasurable for him, knowing you were enjoying yourself.

“Gods, Gwayne,” You whined, listening to the lewd noises of your chivalrous paramour suckling on your clit. Another onslaught of molten heat swirled within your stomach, seeping into your bones, manifesting as arousal between your thighs. “Do — Do not stop!” The urgency in your voice had increased exponentially.

If there were any evening stragglers in the Royal Gardens, you prayed to the Seven that they would not stumble upon the both of you.

The sight itself was inherently sinful, with you haplessly pressed against the stone column, gallant dress strewn across the ground, slip sagging along your physique. Gwayne’s emerald doublet had joined your garments below. You reveled in the sight of his head between your thighs, causing you to whimper.

Gwayne could detect when you were accelerating towards your release, able to feel the twitches and tremors in your thighs. He soothingly stroked along your silky flesh, interchanging between the greedy suckling of your clit, to long, broad strokes of his tongue.

His lips glistened with a sticky sheen of your nectar, of a finer stout than many, more delectable than any wine that had befallen his mouth. Gwayne worshiped you, kissed the ground you walked upon, and he did not feel an ounce of shame in it.

His cock throbbed with a desperate ache, precum slick around the head as it strained against his trousers. Your own satisfaction spurred him on, and your delightful noises only sent him spiraling into the depths of depravity. You hadn’t a clue of the things you did to him.

In a brazen maneuver, his tongue prodded against your entrance, gingerly thrusting inside of you. You gasped, biting at the inside of your cheek, digits raking through his auburn locks. You let your grip loosen, hips careening forward into his mouth again.

Gwayne ravished you, with the ravenous appetite of a starving dog. He moved back just enough to lap at your cunt, making a blazing trail from your entrance to your clit. “I’m close,” You huffed, issuing some warning to him before the dam had burst altogether. “Gwayne!”

It was the only word you knew in the present, his name — it rolled from your tongue in a delighted cry, laced with ardor and reverence. You reached your peak, shamelessly spilling yourself upon his tongue, and he was enamored with you.

With careful, sluggish strokes of his tongue, he delicately cleaned the mess he made of you, allowing you to bring yourself down from your peak. Even if the intensity had made you burn at a fever pitch, you were far from finished, tugging on Gwayne’s tresses to get his attention.

“Take me, husband,” It wasn’t a request — it was a demand, a command made upon a yearning wife. Desire glistened like a thick sheen within his cerulean eyes, which happened to widen at the sight of you. “Please.” You didn’t have to beg — Gwayne wanted you just as terribly.

He swiftly rose from between your legs, pupils dilated with lust as he steered you toward the stone bannister of the overlook, wide enough to support you. You sat down, hastily fumbling with the leather ties of his trousers. Gwayne parted your legs again, bending over you as he sought your mouth.

The taste of arousal — yours — fell heavy upon your tongue, lips clashing together as you desperately sought to free his cock from its confines. “I need you,” Gwayne husked against your mouth, pearlescent teeth briefly snagging on your lower lip. “Gods, how I’ve missed this, missed you.”

“Gwayne,” A moan escaped you, intermingling with his husky pants and sonorous groans. His forehead nudged against yours, lips hot and needy, and you were more than happy to reciprocate. “I need you, I …” Your voice tapered off when his cock slid against your folds.

He kept you steady, hands caging you against the bannister, the stone biting into your back as he kept you at an angle. Silk gathered around your hips, friction wafting between the both of you as he thrust forward, cock sinking into you.

Hitching a leg around his waist as best as you could, your hands roamed to his chest, nails digging into his collarbone as he began to find an erratic pace. He was loving and passionate, even still, but there was something inherently quick about his rhythm.

Perspiration glittered along his brow from the warm evening, yet it did not stop him from pounding away at you. His cock filled you perfectly, providing a delectable stretch that made your toes curl. It wasn’t an intimidating thing, but it was pretty, just like the rest of him.

Through his clenched teeth, Gwayne sang your praises, savoring the way in which your cunt constricted around him, as if drawing him in. “Seven Hells, your cunt is perfection,” Such lewd, crass words sounded so eloquent coming from his lips, as debonair as a Prince. “I cannot get enough of you, sweet wife.” He groaned.

Despite his crudely-spoken compliment, you were lost within the throes of your own pleasure, body rocked into submission by each snap of his hips. His cock bottomed out within you, movements swift yet punctuated, as if every thrust possessed meaning.

You loved Gwayne unconditionally — perhaps too much, if such a thing were possible. Your chest heaved with sweet, passionate sighs and gentle moans, forehead occasionally brushing against his. His hands kept themselves firm along your waist, curling into the silk of your slip.

His cock battered away at your slick cunt, aided by your mounting arousal. Everything felt so feverishly warm, as if you had been set ablaze, nerves feeling like they were steeped in fire. “More,” You moaned, and it effectively caught Gwayne’s attention. “Gwayne, please.” He was weak to your soft pleas.

Your beloved husband lacked harshness when it came to intimacy, something you adored about him. Even when his thrusts became desperate and erratic, chasing after his release, he never resorted to using you. His lips sought the column of your throat, nose brushing along your jugular.

A string of kisses peppered themselves against your sweet flesh, with the occasional suckling of his lips to your neck. A myriad of throaty whines and whimpers continued to leave you in droves, cunt pathetically clenching around him.

Buckling forward, Gwayne planted one palm against the stone bannister, the other caging in around you as he continued to pound away into your needy cunt. He kissed you wherever he could, dwindling into desperation and the innate desire to taste your sweet flesh.

His lips parted slightly, a strained grunt escaping him as he thrust forward again, until there was nowhere left for him to go. Gwayne pulled back just enough, the head of his cock still inside of you before he moved forward again. The friction made you shiver, fingers grasping at the nape of his neck.

His name continued to slip from your mouth, over and over again, like a whispered prayer. Your nails left behind red crescents upon his skin, sharp brands of your lovemaking. Gwayne groaned against your throat, desiring to kiss you once more, lips laying claim to yours with a fervor.

With another snap of his hips, Gwayne shuddered, nearly collapsing into you as he reached his peak. Hot ropes of seed brazenly spilled inside of you, warming your insides as he attempted to catch his breath. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing with him, allowing your hands to slack.

Gwayne politely removed himself from you, mindful of your garments as he fixed your gown back into place. The slip itself was disheveled, but he ensured its tidiness before you got dressed again.

“How divine you are,” Gwayne hummed, planting gentle kisses along the side of your face before it ended at the curve of your jaw. “Beautiful beyond comprehension.” He murmured, using two digits to delicately place the strap of your slip back upon your shoulder.

“You flatter me, husband,” Your smile was warm and amiable, the brightness of springtime, bringing a rosy flush to his features. “I quite enjoyed your brazen streak.” Through a smitten confession, Gwayne kissed your brow, lips twitching into a debonair smirk.

“I am not ashamed of ravishing my wife, be it in our chambers or in the garden,” He replied, reaching for his velveteen doublet and your azure dress. It was easy for him to slip back into the stuffy material, and he was more than happy to assist you. “I cannot get enough of you.”

His words were tantalizing, as if intended to bring about another string of salacious thoughts. Gwayne stood behind you as you stepped back into your dress, helping to lace your bodice up again. He planted a kiss along your exposed shoulder, and then to the crook of your neck.

You reached for his hand, letting it drape across your shoulder as you pressed a delicate kiss against his bruised knuckles. “You shall have me, Gwayne — for as long as you desire me.” You sighed, feeling his nose brush along your cheek, the warmth of his body pressing in behind you.

With a kiss to your temple, one oozing with such fondness and ardor that you feared you might melt, Gwayne’s lips hovered near the shell of your ear. In the twinkling dusk, he held you close. “Forever, then.”