#mint’s fanfiction

[minty-mumbles]

Shifting Hues (Ch. 4: Rose Petals)

Summary: A fic that follows Wild’s journey to discover themselves. This chapter: The chain attend a banquet in Warriors’ Hyrule, and Wild gets a new outfit

(Read on AO3 Here)

~~~

Wild eyes a skirt that’s displayed on a nearby mannequin with no small amount of greed. It’s a beautiful piece of artistry, made with a pale yellow fabric that fades to a rosy orange color at the edge of the fabric. Its wide waistband is embroidered with red roses and vines that curl delicately over the fabric. The skirt is long enough that if Wild were to wear it, it would fall nearly to their ankles.

Even without touching the fabric, they can tell that it’s a heavy, slightly stretchy material. If someone twirled around while wearing it, it would flare out beautifully. For a moment, Wild wonders what it would be like to dance wearing it.

Unfortunately, Wild can’t have it, even if they would love to wear it.

They drag their attention away from the skirt and turn it towards the tailor. She’s hurrying towards them from the back of the store, over to where Wild is standing awkwardly in the men’s section of the shop. Her arms are loaded with more outfits that Wild will try on and inevitably find something wrong with. She looks haggard, her elegant features twisted with a hint of frustration.

Wild knows they’re not being a gracious customer to Warriors’ sister. Warriors had asked the other heroes to not cause trouble for her. She’d only recently taken over the family’s tailoring shop from their parents, and she’s being very kind to allow them in after the shop had technically closed for the day.

Warriors had begged her too, seeing as his family's shop was the only place they could hope to get appropriate outfits in time for the banquet that Athena had invited them to tonight. His sister had taken one look at the scruffy traveling clothes the heroes all wore and had agreed with him immediately. She’d declared that they couldn’t be seen at any sort of formal function in the state they were in, and then swept Hyrule and Legend away to choose their clothes first.

There could be no doubt that she was Warrior's sister, all right.

But that was beside the point. The point was that Wild didn’t want to cause a scene. Warriors had even specifically pulled Wild aside and asked them to not cause any trouble tonight, pleading with his eyes for Wild to behave themself. Warriors had meant at tonight’s celebration, but Wild was sure he wouldn't appreciate them giving his sister a hard time either.

Wild wishes they can just accept a halfway-decent option and be done with it. They’re even tempted to pull the green waistcoat back out of the reject pile- the one that has pretty yellow flowers embroidered on it- and say that was good enough.

But even that option hadn’t been right.

Traveling clothes are much easier. Men and women alike wear simple tunics and pants. Armour, if they can afford it. Skirts and dresses are too fiddly to be worn while traveling. Even Legend wears shorts under his long tunic. Wild never feels out of place in their champion’s tunic when they’re on the road.

But when considering what to wear tonight, at a formal event where the women will all no doubt be wearing gowns with beautiful full skirts and delicate swirling fabrics, it feels wrong for Wild to wear a men’s formal tunic and stiff ironed trousers like most of the other heroes will be.

Here, in a shop so firmly divided down the middle- with women’s clothing on one side and men’s on the other- Wild feels so wrong and out of place.

“Alright.” Her words drew their attention back to the tailor. “Try this one on.” She hands him a black tunic. It’s simple, and when they take it from her, the fabric feels nice against their skin. The fabric almost shimmers in the light, strands of silver woven into the black fabric.

Wild heads into the changing room with low hopes, and the shirt does not exceed them.

They look at themselves in the mirror and have to admit that they look good. They look very handsome. They look not at all like themselves.

If they were a man, it would be perfectly fine. But they aren’t, so it’s not. It makes them want to claw at their own skin, curl up into a ball on the shop’s floor, and scream. Not necessarily in that order.

They take their gaze away from their image in the mirror and put their own tunic back on. They hesitate before leaving the changing room and brace themself. Taking a chance, they ask the tailor, “Do you have anything that doesn’t have… pants?”

She blink slowly, and Wild thinks maybe they’ve given this woman too much, bared too much of their soul to her. Wild fears she'll take what they’ve given her and use it to break them. But she only nods, and pulls them over to a different section of the store.

She pulls one more outfit off the rack and offers it to them. “I’ll probably have to make a few alterations, but nothing major. It won't take too long.” She hands them a sleeveless rose-colored tunic that’s as long as Legend’s usual fare.

After some consideration, she pulls out a pair of white leggings, and a length of white fabric heavily embroidered with roses in all shades of pink, which Wild realizes is a sash to tie around their waist. The last thing she shoves into their arms is a large piece of gauzy pink see-through fabric. Wild can’t parse what it’s meant to be, and at their raised eyebrow, she explains. “It’s to wrap around your shoulders like a shawl.”

The outfit isn’t overtly feminine even with the pink colors, but to Wild’s utter relief, there aren’t any pants. It’s also not typically masculine enough that if they were to put it on, they would want to curl up and scream.

They take it and slip back into the changing room with more haste than they’ve had all evening.

Wild doesn’t dare look in the mirror until they’ve put on the whole outfit. When they have, they turn to look at themselves in the mirror, hoping desperately that this outfit works for them. They want to get out of this shop. Warriors’ sister is perfectly nice, but Wild is getting tired of this whole ordeal. It’s exhausting, having to shift through all these clothes that aren’t quite right.

Especially now that they’re a little less forgiving about it. They would have tolerated the discomfort before, but they can’t now. Not when they’ve been shown the slightest bit of acceptance from Zel and Riju. They just can’t.

Gritting their teeth, Wild pushes away memories of the mocking laughter from when his vai clothes had been discovered, and Hyrule’s gentle words that had burned like a scalding reprimand.

They won't put up with having to force themself to be something they aren’t. Not for anyone, not even the other heroes. They won’t. They’ve never been one to care about what other people thought of them, and they needed to stop doing it now.

Smoothing down the front of the tunic, Wild turns to look at themself in the mirror. They’re satisfied with what they see. The stress that’s been building since Legend and Hyrule came back from the tailor looking dapper and so very gentleman-like lessens.

In a moment of inspiration, they retrieve their pair of ruby earrings from their slate, swapping them out with their amber ones. They can’t stop grinning stupidly at their reflection.

Wild runs their hands over the short skirt of the tunic- because that’s what it is, it's a skirt- and a thrill shoots through them. It’s not everything they want. They wish it was longer, that it fell past their knees. They wish that if they twirled, they could see the fabric flare out around them in the mirror. It’s not the beautiful yellow skirt they’d seen earlier, it’s not perfect, but it’s something.

And for now, ‘something’ is enough.

~~~

When Twilight sees the outfit Wild has on, he opens his mouth and says “Oh, Wild, that’s a-” and damn it all, Wild is not going to let anyone ruin this for them.

They flash a bright grin at Twilight, quickly striking an over-dramatic pose. “An amazing outfit? Yes, thank you, I know.” Playing dumb almost always worked. Everyone thought they were a bit of an idiot and completely socially oblivious due to their amnesia. Might as well use it to their advantage when they could.

Twilight shrugs, and no one else mentions anything about their clothes.

~~~

Wild doesn’t like banquets. It’s an easy opinion to form, even after only attending one for half an hour.

Athena is hosting the event inside a grandiose hall with marble flooring and a gilded ceiling. Marble columns line the walls, and grand glass doors show a view of the vast castle gardens, which are in full bloom. Wild privately thinks all the decoration is a little ostentatious.

The ceiling above them is painted with scenes of heroes past- some stories Wild recognizes, and some they don't. Wild’s glad they don’t see any scenes depicting themself, though. They suppose that’s one advantage to being the furthest along in the timeline- they never have to worry about stumbling across a reminder of their journey in one of the other eras.

The hall around them is packed with people, mostly nobles and military officers, with a few servants lingering amongst the attendees. Despite the crowd, the noise in the room never rises above a quiet chatter. The atmosphere feels unnaturally still for the number of people in the room.

Even when the dancing starts, it doesn’t shake the stillness in the air. The dances Wild sees being performed are all unfamiliar to them. For the most part, they’re slow waltzes that barely stir the air around the dancers. They hope no one asks them to dance. It looks like a horrible experience.

It’s nothing like the festivals and parties Wild has been to in their own era. Those are rowdy affairs, filled with fast dances and loud cheering. Since the defeat of the Calamity, they seemed to have gotten impossibly more lively as the people celebrated being able to live without threat once more. Wild likes to join in the dancing occasionally. The beat of the music that plays always makes their heart pound in excitement, and they get sucked in.

(And if Wild is desperately jealous of the beautiful skirts the women wear and the way they flare out around the legs of the dancers, they say nothing. And as Wild dances, they try to pretend they’re wearing one.)

Still- Wild’s never been one for crowds. They always feel like they’re being watched and judged when they’re in the middle of a crowd. So even though they like to occasionally join the dances, usually they just watch the festivities from the sidelines, simply observing the lively atmosphere.

Even though they rarely join in, Wild still likes the parties of their era much more than the one they’re attending right now. This event has just as many people as the parties in Wild’s era but lacks even a fraction of the excitement or energy.

Wild takes to circling the dance floor. They try to move casually, as if they’re trying to get somewhere or find someone. So far, it‘s kept anyone from trying to draw them into a conversation or ask them to dance.

As they circle, they seek out the other heroes, keeping track of their placement.

Warriors seems right at home. How much of that is him actually feeling comfortable and how much of it is practiced poise was up for debate. Regardless, he looks like he’s having a good time. He’s standing off to the side, engaged in a conversation with Sky and a group of other military officers. Wild passes near enough to hear them discussing the differences between the duties of knights in Hyrule and the “far-off kingdom” that Sky is from.

Wild, not wanting to be sucked into any conversation pertaining to their previous knighthood, quickly moves away.

Time and Twilight look to be surviving, although barely. They wear matching awkward expressions as a woman dressed in expensive-looking clothing speaks to them. Even as socially unaware as Wild is, they can see the overly flirtatious body language she’s aiming at both of them. Wild suppresses an inelegant snort and sends up a prayer to Hylia for the pair, but leaves them to their fate of fending off the woman’s advances.

Surprisingly, Legend seems to be fitting in as well as Warriors is. He’s entertaining a man who looks to be about the same age as him. Wild remembers Legend mentioning that he spends a lot of time with his Zelda. Perhaps he’s had to attend a few banquets while doing so. It would explain how at ease he looks.

Legend notices Wild’s restless pacing when they pass him for the third time and sends them a raised eyebrow. Wild can only grimace and shrug in return, fading back into the crowd. They see Legend shake his head slightly and turn back to the man he was talking to, offering him a hand and leading him onto the dance floor.

The only members of their group Wild can’t locate are Wind, Four, and Hyrule.

Wind and Four had been allowed to leave half an hour ago after the banquet portion of the evening had concluded. It seems that Wind had finally found one benefit to being young and Four hadn’t had any qualms with letting people assume he was a child this one time. If Wild had to guess, they’d say the pair had found their way to the kitchens and were terrorizing the chefs into giving them extra desserts.

Wild can’t see Hyrule anywhere, and they’re starting to think that the traveler found some way to escape the party without anyone noticing. Wild sighs heavily, which draws some looks from a group of nobles gathered nearby, so they quickly scuttle away.

This is turning out to be a miserable night, and they can’t wait for it to be over. At least the food at dinner had been good.

If only they could figure out how Hyrule had managed to sneak away, Wild would make his own way down to the kitchens and ask the cook for some of their recipes.

Speaking of food…

The only upside to this banquet was the servers floating around, holding platters of little desserts and drinks. In Wild’s era, you had to bring your own food to parties or buy from overpriced vendors. Here, it was free.

One of the servers moves through the crowd ahead of them, offering something to those around her. As Wild draws closer to her, they can see that her tray contains little tubes of pastry filled with some sort of white cream. It looks like it’s dipped in chocolate, and dusted with powdered sugar to finish it off. The treats look far more decadent and rich than anything you’d typically find elsewhere, but that was the benefit of ruling a nation. Royalty always had access to good food.

The server must see them eyeing her platter as they pass, as she holds it out. “Would you like a cannoli, ma’am?”

It takes Wild a second to realize that she is indeed talking to them. When they do, they freeze, barely containing their urge to gape open-mouthed at the tired-looking server. They pause for a moment, waiting with bated breath for her to correct herself.

It happens sometimes, people looking at them and actually seeing a woman. Wild’s sure it’s mostly due to their long hair. It never lasts long- they get a better look at Wild, and then almost fall over themselves in their haste to apologize. Then Wild has to perform a whole song and dance of telling them that it’s fine, that it was just a misunderstanding. They had to act as if the little scrap of acknowledgment hadn’t set their heart racing as fast as a wild horse on the plains.

The server doesn’t correct herself, though. She doesn’t say anything at all and only starts to move away as if Wild had refused her offer. From her perspective, Wild probably has, by not responding. Wild doesn’t doubt that she’s encountered plenty of nobles that deem it beneath them to even speak to the servants.

Wild splutters, just a little. They stop her and snag a cannoli off her tray. “Thank you,” They say a little breathlessly, and they don’t just mean for the dessert.

The server blinks at them, looking a little taken aback. “You’re welcome.” She says politely with a stale and automatic smile, and moves off to offer the platter to a nearby man.

After she moves off, Wild stands frozen, blinking after her in shock. They feel like the entire ballroom is swirling sluggishly around them. Something deep inside them bubbles with joy. The room seems a little brighter now, and this event somehow becomes a little more bearable. Wild feels like they're going to be walking on air for the rest of the evening.

“Hey,” The word- spoken into their good ear- and the hand that lands on their shoulder makes them squeak and spin to quickly face the newcomer. It’s Hyrule, and he gives them an apologetic smile, holding his hands up in surrender.

He jerks a thumb towards one of the balcony doors. “Want to come outside? It’s a bit stuffy in here.” Wild jumps on the opportunity. They hadn't even considered sneaking out to the gardens, and they kick themself for it.

With a furtive glance around, Wild realizes that none of the other heroes are paying a lick of attention to either Hyrule or Wild. Grabbing Hyrule’s hand with the hand they’re not using to hold their cannoli, they drag him through the crowd, startling a laugh out of him. Some of the nearby guests glare at them for the disruption, but Wild pays them no mind.

The pair makes their way out of the ballroom as quickly as possible, and the crispness of the night air is so refreshing it nearly makes Wild dizzy. They continue to jog, gradually picking up speed as Wild tugs Hyrule to run faster.

Soon, they’re sprinting through the gardens, and the quiet noise of the party fades from their hearing. Wild takes random turns as the hedge-lined paths split off into different paths, and eventually, they have to skid to a stop as the path they’re on leads to a small bench sitting against the boundary wall of the garden.

The adrenaline from the run and the euphoria from being called ma’am mingle together in their veins, and they can’t stop themself from grinning stupidly at Hyrule. He returns it, but there seems to be an undercurrent of hesitation behind it.

“You were in a real hurry to get out of there. Something make you uncomfortable?”

Wild tilts their hand side to side in a so-so gesture. “Warriors’ era sure has a weird way of throwing parties. Very boring.”

Hyrule nods but doesn't meet Wild’s gaze. Eventually, he seems to come to some conclusion and steel himself to say something.

“I heard what that server said.” Wild’s heart sinks, their grin falling. They look away, gaze falling on the flowers that were growing along the wall. Ironically, they realized the flowers were red roses. Without their permission, their unoccupied hand comes up to fiddle with the embroidery on the sash they wear.

Hyrule seems to be choosing their words carefully, and when they next speak, they talk slowly, as if they're trying to pick their way through a field full of bomb flowers. “I know what it feels like, for people to call me something I’m not, and it doesn’t feel good. I just wanted to say that you can wear anything you want. It doesn’t matter if it’s feminine, people should still respect what you are.”

“I’m sure she was just tired. It’s not a big deal,” Wild mumbles to Hyrule. They pat his shoulder absently and take their first bite out of the cannoli so they won’t have to say anything else. It’s delicious, but Wild feels too guilty to savor the sweet taste. They don’t know why. They don’t have anything to be guilty for.

They think they do a poor job of hiding their sudden mood change because Hyrule is looking at them with curious eyes. The traveler looks taken aback, like he’s two seconds away from apologizing to Wild for what he said.

Wild shoves the other half of the cannoli at Hyrule without thinking. Their stomach has turned, and the sweet cream lingering in their mouth suddenly tastes sour. They don’t want to eat the rest. “Here, do you want the rest of this? I don’t care for it.”

Hyrule takes it silently, and Wild’s glad, as that means that Hyrule’s mouth will be full and he won’t say anything else.

Wild can’t be mad at him. What Hyurle said was correct, really. What Wild was wearing didn’t automatically make them a man or a woman. Women could wear pants and still be women, men could wear dresses and still be men.

It wasn’t Hyrule's fault he didn’t know that Wild wasn’t a man.

It’s not like Wild had ever told him.

Wild hadn’t told him.

The thought brings a sudden clarity to their mind. They've been spending so long- ever since that night on the roof- worrying over whether Hyrule knew, wondering if he’d somehow found out, that they hadn’t thought maybe they were reading too deep into what Hyrule said. And for him to be so reassuring about the fact that Wild don't have to worry about their masculinity now…

And like he’d said, Hyrule would know better than most how it feels to be thought of as something other than what they were. He and Warriors would be the ones most likely to support Wild in this, and the ones least likely to be worried over what legends and myths said the hero had to be.

Maybe Wild had been completely misinterpreting what Hyrule had said.

[minty-mumbles]

You’re so right actually. Here 1.5k words about how right you are, except I kind of got off track, and most of it is actually about Hyrule being a little shit (affectionate)

~~~

Hyrule probably shouldn’t be doing this, but he had gotten permission. Kind of.

He’d been helping Twilight muck out the horses’ stalls and lay down new bedding for them. When they'd finished, Twilight had said “Go get something to eat. It’s nearly noon.”

When Hyrule had asked when Twilight would be in for lunch, the rancher had waved him off, saying that he’d head up to the house soon. Hyrule doubted that. More likely Twilight would continue working until someone came to get him. Whenever the group of heroes happened upon Time’s ranch or Twilight’s own farming village, the rancher had a tendency to forget the time and accidentally skip meals. Someone would inevitably have to pry Twilight away from the animals.

Hyrule was more than happy to leave Twilight to his work, though. Time or Wild or Malon would eventually drag Twilight to get something to eat, and Hyrule had his own mission.

The last time the chain had been at the ranch, Malon had shown him the plates of milk and sugar she and TIme set out every day for the fairies around the ranch.

When Hyrule had warily asked if they put out the milk and sugar to capture fairies. she’d told him that they did it in an attempt to find a long-lost fairy friend of Time’s. Quietly, Hyrule doubted that the fairy that they were looking for would show up again, but, well. Malon had been right. If this fairy had been important to Time, then they had to try.

It didn’t take long for Hyrule to find one of the shallow bowls, partially hidden in a bush at the edge of the ranch’s property. The bowl was filled with milk, along with enough sugar cubes to make it sweeter than any Hylian could stomach.

Luckily for Hyrule, he wasn't just a Hylian.

Again, he probably shouldn’t be doing this. Time and Malon hadn’t given him permission to take any of the milk, and they hadn't intended it to be for him. It was probably rude of him to take it. But a little wouldn't hurt, right?

Twilight had told him to go find something to eat, and he hadn’t specified it had to be Hylian food. And since Twilight was Time’s descendant, it was basically like Hyrule had basically gotten permission from a family member to take some food. Kind of.

Hyrule winced. The excuse sounded flimsy, even to his own mind.

It was just that Hyrule hadn’t had anything this sweet in ages. Wild’s cooking was fantastic, but he didn’t often take the time to make anything for dessert. The sweetest thing Hyrule had eaten in the past several months was the wildberry crepes Wild sometimes made for breakfast.

And sue him, but Hyrule had the biggest sweet tooth, no doubt due to his fairy form.

No one would miss a bit of milk. After all, he would only take enough to fill the stomach of one little fairy.

Turning into his fairy form without anyone seeing was easy. The only one who was still outside was Twilight, and he was in the barn being thoroughly distracted by the horses.

All it took was slipping behind the bush and a quick bit of magic, and when he emerged, he was a Hylian no longer. In his fairy form, he was a bit larger than a normal fairy and he glowed green, unlike the pink or blue hues that were normal for a fairy. Other than that, no one would be able to tell he wasn’t a completely normal fairy.

He was the only fairy at the bowl, the others no doubt hiding in the woods to avoid the heat from the midday sun. Perching precariously on the edge, it took some maneuvering to reach down and scoop up some of the sweet milk with his hands, but he managed it.

His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head when he took his first sip. The milk was so rich it was more like cream than milk, and it had been sitting in the sun for several hours- not enough to spoil, but enough to warm it to the perfect temperature. The sugar cubes placed in the milk had mostly dissolved, so the milk was amazingly sweet.

Hyrule’s ears wiggled happily as he leaned down to get another handful of the milk. He’d need to wash the stickiness off when he turned back to a Hylian, but that was a problem for future Hyrule.

~~~

An hour later saw Hyrule back to his regular size, laying sprawled in the sun behind the bushes. His stomach was full, his sweet tooth was satisfied for the first time in ages, and the sun was delightfully warm.

Nothing could make this better.

“Hyrule!” Hyrule sighed at the call of his name, feeling slightly disappointed. He'd hoped for a little more time to snooze before one of the other heroes discovered his hiding place. But he’d gotten his fill of the sweet milk and a little chance to unwind, so he wasn’t complaining.

When he opened his eyes, though, Hyrule discovered it wasn’t Legend or Time coming to fetch him to help with some task or chore. It was Wild, leaning over him with a grin. “You missed lunch.”

Hyrule smiled back. Leave it to WIld to worry about whether someone else had eaten. “I ate a little.”

Wild raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You ate a full meal?”

Hyrule grinned sheepishly. “Not exactly.” Wild huffed, extending a hand to him. Hyrule took it, allowing Wild to pull him into a seated position. Wild dropped down next to him, pulling some stuffed rice balls out of his slate.

Hyrule almost refused- he was full of sugar and milk already and he didn’t really feel hungry.

But if he refused Wild’s food, the champion would look at him all sad like he did every time someone refused the food he made. And besides that, Wild was right. The milk hadn’t been real food. It might have satisfied his fairy form, but as a Hylian, Hyrule needed something more filling.

Hyrule took the rice balls without protest, which earned him a blinding smile from the champion. The food was filling, and by the time Hyrule had gotten through three of them, he was feeling stuffed full, and like he could really use a nap. Wild, who had a bottomless stomach and managed to eat four of the large rice balls, seemed to have the same idea.

The champion flopped back onto the ground. He looked remarkably like a cat who, content after drinking its fill of cream, was stretched out in the sun to soak in the warmth.

Hyrule, never one to turn down the opportunity for physical contact, flopped down against Wild’s chest, using his shoulder as a pillow. He’d been wrong before. Now nothing could make this better.

This was the perfect chance to take a nice little nap. No one would mind, he was sure. He shut his eyes, stretching out with the full intention of not moving until one of the other heroes came to drag them back to the house.

“Hyrule?” Wild spoke into the silence.

“Hmm?” Hyrule hummed, not bothering to reopen his eyes.

“Why are your hands sticky?”

~~~

The other heroes had kept busy for the rest of the day, and it was only when they came back together for dinner that anyone realized that two members of their group were missing.

“Hey, has anyone seen Hyrule or Wild recently? It was Wind who spoke those words which had become dreaded by the other heroes.

Twilight lifted his head. “Last I saw Hyrule, I had sent him up to the house for some lunch.”

Time frowned. “Hyrule never showed up, so I assumed he got caught up in something out in the fields. I sent Wild to go get…him...” Time trailed off with a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Neither of them came back.”

Malon tilted her head, those words not inducing the same dread in her as they did with the rest of the people at the table. “I looked for Wild before I started dinner to ask if he would help me cook, but I couldn’t find him. I assumed he was with one of you?”

The other heroes shared wide-eyed looks, and Time buried his face in his hands.

“Gods damn it. They couldn’t not wander off for one day?”

Headcanon that Hyrule and Wild are like cats: if the go quiet for too long, it’s suspicious. They’re either wandering off getting into trouble, or sleeping somewhere weird like in a horse stall with the horse or in the well.

[kithtaehyung]

minted: part two (snippet) (m) | myg

snippet: minted: part two (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au series: masterlist | part one summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! enjoy this snippet since i missed the initial part two drop! note 2: this series is for @sailoryooons, @joonary, and @minttangerines! love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma, poor reader :(((, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee…, tension, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn est. drop date: september 16th, 2024 snippet word count: 1.5k est. total word count: 9k >:))

—

—

There’s something to be said about the human gut. 

Not because it’s the source of multiple health aspects, or the way it’s connected to the brain. 

But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.

Who is this person next to you? 

Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 

You don’t know if you released your hand or if Yoongi let it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.

How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.

Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 

To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”

No answer.

Alright.

“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”

All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 

Okay. Well.

You can face forward, too. 

“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”

“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”

Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”

As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 

Mm. Does he?

From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 

If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…

What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?

Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.

Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 

Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 

But that taxi drive…

Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 

Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 

All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 

How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.

That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”

A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.

But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 

One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…

Floor…

There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 

But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 

And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 

“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.

Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?

Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.

You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.

The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?

How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 

And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 

Perfect.

“What.” 

You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”

He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 

…Is that really his only response?

“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.

“But it’s what you need.”

“Say what now?” 

The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 

But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 

This is all too much. 

“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 

You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm, and the voice you hear courses through your ears, “The fuck are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”

“You serious?”

“Yes, I am. So move.”

Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 

…Oh.

That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. Nor man, for that matter.

But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 

No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him than you are by yourself right now. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 

He did keep you alive that whole chase.

But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with Yoongi, either. You don’t even know who he is anymore—maybe you never did.

So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.

Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 

Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 

And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 

Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 

Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 

No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 

You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 

Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 

And someone’s inside?

Wait.

Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.

Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a hotel employee, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 

However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 

Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 

You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 

And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions and words you can’t name.

Yeah.

You fucked up.

Fuck.

-

-

tbc. :))

-

are we ready for the drop?! | join the taglist!

a/n: this is just the beginning!! who knowwwws what's gonna happen during the rest of the 9k+ lsdkfjdskl thank you all so much for hanging in there for me as i navigate multiple hobbies and endeavors. it means a lot to see your words of encouragement! always appreciated, and i hope you look forward to the real drop hehehe. more links: masterlist

[strangenewwords]

i'm genuinely curious, so answer in the tags:

how did you first consume fanfiction? and/or, what was your first fanfic obsession?

[the-last-quest]

While Nine isn’t the same as Tails something they have in common is their love for mint.

But like most things their experiences with it were very different.

[2152 words]

Tucked away in an alley a small kit winced as he tried to hide himself away from the glaring eyes and harsh fists that the city was filled with. He had already had an unpleasant encounter earlier in the day, and while not being the worst he’d experienced he was still left with a throbbing ankle and the taste of blood in his mouth.

His ears perked up as he heard faint footsteps heading towards the alley. He pressed himself against the wall as much as he could, eyes squeezed shut. He tried to quiet his breathing but as the footsteps drew nearer it picked up as his thoughts began to race. ‘What if the same cat from earlier came back for more? What if he doesn't stop after a few hits this time? What if he brought others to help him? What if-’

“Are you alright dear?” A female voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.

He waited for a moment before opening his eyes to look at the owner of the voice, an older red cat lady who seemed to be concerned for him. He didn’t answer her, knowing she hadn't noticed why he was in this state. He knew he needed to be ready for when she did, for when her kindness would turn to attacks that he was far too used to. He watched as her eyes scanned over his small frame, the exact moment she noticed obvious to the fox as her face changed from a look of concern to one of disgust.

He flinched at the change of expression and curled into himself, eyes screwed shut again, he didn’t think that she would hurt him, but one can never be too trusting in this city. Anticipating an incoming impact he didn’t see what the lady was doing. He was about to look up again when something came flying towards him, just barely missing. He braced himself for more, but none came. The only thing he heard was the sounds of footsteps fading away,

Only after the sound had long faded into the distance did the kit open his eyes again. He peeked out of the alley looking both ways down the road. It was empty now as it was getting later, less people venturing out of their homes. As he returned to the safety of the alley something on the floor caught his eye.

It looked to be a candy of some sort. He picked up the candy and held onto it as he dragged himself to the end of the alley, ignoring the shooting pain that came from his ankle. Despite it being late he didn’t want to have an interaction like that again. In the safety of the back of the alley he sat against the wall ready to settle in for the night.

He opened his paw to examine the candy the lady had thrown at him. He had never seen anything like it before. It was a remnant of before the chaos council took over, the small treat lacking any of the council’s usual obnoxious packaging, instead wrapped in a thin clear plastic, the green and white swirl intrigued him. He wondered if he could trust the candy. The cat didn’t seem to have malicious intent, leaving the fox to his own devices for the most part, but she obviously didn’t care for him. As he stared at the candy in his paw, pondering whether or not he should eat it his stomach let out a low rumble. He bit his lip, the candy wouldn’t help his hunger much, but at the moment he would take anything he could get.

With shaking fingers he cautiously unwrapped the plastic wrapper. Taking the candy up to his nose he took a small sniff of it.

He coughed, not expecting how strong it was. The scent made its way through his nostrils down to his mouth, the flavor ghosting in his mouth. It gave his mind something else to focus on. It distracted him from the taste of copper in his mouth, even with just the faint flavor from the scent.

‘This could be useful in the future.’ He thought while he lowered the candy to look over it again. The attack from today wasn’t that bad compared to others he had in the past, and he’s certain he’d have worse ones in the future. It would be a good idea to hold on to the candy for later, to have a distraction. He grabbed the plastic to wrap the candy up when his stomach growled again.

His eyes glanced from his stomach to the candy. ‘It won’t do anything, save it for later.’ The rational part of his mind told him. ‘Save it for later, it'll be more useful then.’ But that didn’t take away the situation he was in right now. He was hurt, hungry and tired and tucked away in a cold alley in the city and right now that small candy, while not being able to fix any of that, could take his mind off of it.

He popped the candy into his mouth.

Just like when he smelled it the taste overwhelmed his senses. He never had something that strong before and in this moment that was all he needed. As he got used to the flavor he leaned his head back onto the metal walls of the city. Right now he didn’t care about the state he was in, he just focused on the flavor hanging in his mouth. He focused on it instead of the throbbing pain coming from his ankle. He focused on it instead of the difficulty he had breathing. He focused on it instead of the ever growing emptiness of his stomach.

On the streets of New Yoke the fox focused on the flavor of the candy for as long as he could.

——————————-

Many things had happened after that night in the alley.

The young fox grew older and more tired of the attacks he endured in the city. He built himself mechanical tails to protect him, along with giving himself a name.

He distanced himself from others in the city, none of them cared for him so why should he care for them. He grew cold as he focused on surviving.

Then a blue hedgehog had broken into his bunker and turned his life upside down.

He learned many things from the hedgehog. He learned of friendship and care. Of hope and heartbreak.

After everything he was left in a state worse than before. In a castle that represented his rage as he lashed out against the shatterverse, with no long term hope to survive, and with a corner that he couldn’t bear to look at.

As he stood and looked at the green portal in the distance he decided this wasn’t going to be the end of the story.

——————————-

It was nighttime in Green Hill. A large moon casted its light onto two figures walking along the grass.

Sonic and Nine moved in silence. The hedgehog had just found the fox in the cave where the prism had lied. It was a rough reunion with neither of them expecting it, but each of them having something they needed to say to the other. With emotions running high and both of them becoming exhausted it had been cut short when Sonic had offered Nine to stay for the night, for both of them to get rest and clear their mind so they wouldn’t run themselves dry. Nine was hesitant until the hedgehog had mentioned that Tails wasn’t going to be in their shared home for the day so they could deal with one thing at a time.

The two reached the house that Sonic and Tails shared. Sonic opened the door and held it open for Nine with a weak smile. Nine didn’t return the smile, but the small nod he gave as he walked through the door made the hedgehog’s smile grow just a little.

As Nine walked in and waited for Sonic to lock the door behind them his eyes were drawn to a small bowl of candies on a table next to the door. They were the same candies that the lady had given to him years and years ago, a candy that he never thought he would have again.

Sonic must have noticed him looking at the bowl as he let out a quiet amused chuckle. “Those are Tails’ mints. He has them out in case he’s had a bad day and needs one as soon as he gets home.” A fond smile formed on his face as he thought of the fox so different yet so similar to the one in front of him. “You can take one if you want.” He offered. Nine thought it was some sort of olive branch to release the tension the two had between them. He glanced at the hedgehog and back to the bowl of candies and decided to take one, as long as it made Sonic happy.

There was another silence between the two, much lighter and much shorter than before as Sonic spoke up again.

“Come on, room’s this way.” He said with a gesture to follow him.

Nine followed Sonic as he brought him further into the house. When they reached a hallway Sonic stopped at the first door and pushed it open for Nine silently.

As Nine stepped into the room he looked over the interior. It was simple, being an obviously very underused guest room, the only furniture being a bed and a side table and a lamp. It had very minimal decoration and looked like it had been untouched since the bed was brought in.

Sonic sheepishly scratched the back of his head, “It’s nothing much but-“

“Thank you” Nine interrupted with a small murmur, looking up at Sonic, a light ghosting on his face. While the room wasn’t much to look at it was still better than any of the ones he had back in the city. Even with all his decorations it couldn’t hide the cold metal that made up the space. This room, even while being barren, gave Nine a sense of comfort that he had never had in his one space.

Sonic returned the smile and placed his hand on Nine’s shoulder giving it a small squeeze. “Get some sleep okay kid? I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

Sonic exited the room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

Nine rubbed his hand down his face wearily as he made his way to the bed and plopped himself onto it. He opened up his other hand which contained the ‘mint’ as Sonic had called it. The green and white swirl taunted him as his mind raced with thoughts

In the back of his mind he cursed at having another similarity to Tails. Another part cursed about his counterpart having easier access to the candy if the bowl full of them was anything to go by while he had only had the treat once in his life.

And yet another quieter part of him reminded him of why he liked the candy so much, of how he got his first taste. If the two were really that similar could Tails have been introduced to it in the same situation? Could it be a comfort for the other fox as well?

Letting his thoughts fade away, Nine unwrapped the mint. Holding it in between his fingers he brought it up to his nose and took a sniff of it.

The scent had a similar effect as the first time, traveling up his nose and into his mouth, the flavor bringing him comfort as it had so long ago. Along with the comfort the scent brought back memories of a time he longed to forget. Being hurt and alone, with the only comfort being an act of pity that didn’t even last.

But right now he wasn’t alone. Past the door he could still hear soft footfalls that belonged to a certain blue hedgehog. A hedgehog who had cared for him since they first met. Even when he realized that Nine was different than he initially thought it didn’t waver. Even after showing him the ugliest sides of himself and nearly destroying everything the hedgehog had ever loved, he opened his door for the fox to stay in.

The rational part of his brain told him he didn’t need the mint. He was safe right now and should save it for when he really needed it. Just as he did before he didn’t listen to it. Sure he was safe right now he didn't need the mint, but he wanted it. Plus they weren’t in short supply either so he didn’t have to hold onto it forever.

Nine popped the mint in his mouth.

It tasted exactly like he remembered it.

[bluediva]

Me scrolling through tumblr and seeing some fanart for Tokyo Mew Mew.

And now I can't stop thinking about a fanfic with a My Hero Academia crossover. Uncle Shota and niece Mint maybe?

[goodbyevanny]

(The full pic is posted on my AO3) Crowley and Aziraphale spend some quality time together, based on Ch. 3 of CopperBeech’s fic “Mint Tea,” which is now complete! The sex is so hot, and the story of them coming to trust each other and mutually take care of each other was so beautiful!

You can find me on Twitter, Instagram and AO3!

[yallemagne]

Question! I guess I'm gonna have to write the X-Men going to an ice cream parlour for Operation Birthday, so... what ice cream flavours do the X-Men like?

Note: I encourage non-dairy/sherbet options as well. There are definitely sherbet enjoyers on this team.

I've already decided that Jubilee will be eating Superman ice cream, and I'm giving Morph mint chocolate chip because I'm a self-projecting fiend, and I also think Morph would totally be the type to bring up the mint chocolate chip debate to start meaningless arguments on purpose.

Note: if anyone throws a fit over mint chocolate chip on this post, you are blocked. It is an ice cream flavour, please grow up.

EDIT: for clarification, the people that appear in this scene are Beast, Rouge, Gambit, Wolverine, Magneto, Roberto, and aforementioned Jubilee and Morph. Storm is on the other side of the country being sad and Cyclops and Jean are dealing with politics. Shoulda mentioned that, obv most people who see this post will not have read the fic already. And technically yeah I don't need to establish the flavour for everyone, but it's good to have in mind if any of them come up naturally.

[pondphuwin]

title: better love a dream

fandom: pluto the series

wc: 655 words

aioon character study drabble, oonmay mentioned

🌌✨🌌✨🌌

just a little something i wrote after the first episode, might expand on it and post on ao3 another time ^__^ enjoy reading, pls reblog and lmk your thoughts if u do!

Aioon has never been in love. She's always had other things in life to think about.

When she was a child, she supposes other little girls dreamt of getting married, having children—of finding someone safe and strong to hold onto, through the good and the ugly, and never letting go. Aioon was not a little girl that dreamt of falling in love. Instead, she dreamt of getting rich and going somewhere far away. She dreamt of her grandmother's hand on her shoulder, saying she was proud of her. She dreamt of for once being right and getting her sister to admit she was wrong.

She knew some little girls prayed to God that their dreams would come true. Aioon thought that if there really was a God, she wouldn't have to wish so badly for her own family to like her.

Aioon did not pray (but at least, neither did Oaboom).

Growing up, Aioon was a troublemaker. Quick to start a fight, antagonistic to teachers and school counselors and bosses at part-time jobs alike, loud with nothing particularly important to say. People didn't expect much from her, and though the part of her that dreamed may have wanted to prove them all wrong and crush those expectations to bits, the bigger (jealous, bitter, awful) part of her knew it was futile. Why should she work so hard to be half-decent at things her snobby sister already did with perfect ease?

And of course the one time she does try, makes that idiotic bet with all the confidence and none of the planning, it ends in mindless violence and humiliation. It ends in a guilt so heavy it follows her around for years in the form of her sister's resentful scrutiny. Aioon knows the lines of her own face so well when angry because of Oaboom.

Having a twin is a funny thing, see.

Pang once dated a talk therapist, whose specialty was in Marriage and Family. If she hadn't been on her best behavior the one time they'd met, in case the situationship with Pang happened to last more than two weeks (it didn't), Aioon would have asked her:

What does it mean to be so angry at someone with your own face that on your worst days, you flinch at the sight of her staring back at you in the mirror? What does it mean when the thing you're secretly most afraid of is that you've actually been the evil twin all along?

(Why does one of you have to be evil, Pang had asked when Aioon confessed this months later, both of them splayed on Pang's tiny couch and drunk on cheap wine.

In the movies, one of them is always evil. It's like. Rule #1 of being a twin.

That's not a rule, Pang said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Anyway, people aren't totally good or evil. We just sometimes make good decisions and sometimes make bad ones. She was very wise even with half a bottle of rosé in her.

You're full of shit, Aioon had snickered and thrown a pillow at her face. She had mostly done it so she wouldn't have to think about all the many, many, many bad decisions she'd made in her life.)

It makes sense that in all her years of not-trying in an effort to distance herself from her sister's Aioon-but-better face and Aioon-but-better life, she would still end up here—suffering the consequences of Oaboom's selfish pride and her own stupidity. Digging her own grave while her sister lays unconscious in a hospital bed somewhere, dangerously close to hers. Making another one of those bad evil twin decisions.

Aioon has never been in love, and she does not pray to God. Aioon has never once gotten close to the things she selfishly dreamed and wished for as a child.

But touching May, she thinks, is the closest she's been to any of it.

[minty-mythos]

Bull Horns and Webbed Hands (Ch. 2)

Summary: Since Percy became an instructor at camp, he knew first hand how stressful is was to be in charge of the health and safety of over a hundred demigods. Which was why he offered to travel to Olympus in Chiron's place to give the Olympians the monthly camp status report. All he had wanted to do was give Chiron the day off.

He hadn't planned for anything exciting happening. He certainly hadn't planned on accidentally adopting the Ophiotaurus while he was there. As usual, nothing ever goes as planned for Percy Jackson.

(Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Read on AO3)

~~~

The doors of the throne room swung shut firmly behind Percy, cutting off all sound from within. He was left with only the distant sounds of the city below and the excited sounds Bessie was making.

The throne room’s doors were placed at the tops of a wide step for marble stairs that led down to a wide road paved in gleaming white and gold. The road led to the main part of the main part of the city, where all the shops, parks, and homes for minor godlings and nature spirits were located, but the throne room of the Olympians was isolated, with only buildings near it being the Olympians’ main temples. The temples functioned as the Olympians’ main places of worship on the mountain, as well as their personal living quarters for when they were in Olympus. Each temple was as grand as the last, which always made Percy roll his eyes slightly at the grandeur.

The effect was stunning, if a bit dramatic. The throne room and temples shone like a beacon of light above the rest of the city. They loomed, ever-present, reminding all inhabitants who the rulers of this city truly were. 

Percy had always thought it was a bit overkill, but Bessie was looking around in awe at the gigantic buildings. Percy realized that the kid must not have seen Olympus before, or had only gotten a very brief glimpse of it. The whole time the kid had been on the mountain, he’d been locked away in the throne room. If Percy had been the one in that situation, he knew he’d have gone stir-crazy within the first day. 

His heart panged with sadness for the kid. Hephestus and Poseidon had collaborated to make him a large tank that sat off to the side of the throne room, which was nicely decorated with underwater plants and small structures for the Ophiotuarus to hide in, but It still must have been cramped.

A small part of Percy wanted to take Bessie to see everything Olympus had to offer. There were many lakes, rivers, and streams on the mountain that were beautifully maintained by the nymphs and naiads living in the city. Percy loved to explore them when he had spare time on the mountain, and he would bet Bessie would love them too. The gills on his neck told Percy he would be just as comfortable underwater as he was above, after all.

But Percy would never forgive himself if Bessie was harmed, even accidentally. (Also, the gods had made it clear they expected him to look after and protect Bessie until they called for the two of them to return to the throne room. If anything happened to the boy, he knew he would be blamed for it.) 

The safest place for them to go now would be his father’s main temple. Even if the council decided to destroy Bessie, they would be unable to enter Poseidon’s temple without his permission. (It was a rare day when Percy was actually thankful for the ancient laws. This was one of them.) They’d be safest there.

Thankfully, his dad’s temple wasn’t very far from the throne room. Percy hurried past the looming white marble of Zeus’ and Hera’s grand temples, down to where his father’s was situated, facing Hestia’s across the way. 

The building was just as grand as the king and queen’s, but something about it felt far more welcoming to Percy. From what he’d heard from other demigods, it was normal to feel that sort of draw to your godly parent’s shrines. The buildings were shrouded in an aura of sorts, radiating the god’s energy so strongly it drew their children in, not dissimilar to their respective cabins at camp did.

Poseidon’s temple was made of rough gray and black stone, perpetually wet as if it were sitting on the shoreline and being drenched in the sea’s spray. Colorful coral in greens and golds grew out of the stone, and little fish swam through the air, weaving through the towering pillars that lined the front of the building. 

Bessie was still wiggling- Percy was getting the impression it would be hard to get the boy to ever stop moving- and it only seemed to intensify when he caught sight of the fish’s scales flashing in the sunlight. 

“I wanna see!”

Percy tightened his grip just a little bit more to ensure Bessie couldn't escape his arms. “There’s more fish inside. A whole room with fish in it, it’s awesome.” He grinned at Bessie, because it was awesome. The fact that he was also trying to distract Bessie and avoid the pout that the kid was sending his way was irrelevant. His promises of more and better fish worked, and Bessie was now laser-focused on getting inside the building.

As they started up the steps to the temple, Percy felt his father’s presence. Poseidon’s attention was like an unrelenting wave as it swirled around them. It felt affectionate as it always was when aimed at Percy, but the god was also clearly distracted like he was focusing intently on something else. Most likely the debate no doubt raging inside the throne room. The presence was gone a split second later.

Even without his dad’s direct attention, the feeling of the ocean’s embrace made Percy relax as he stepped over the open threshold to the temple’s interior.

The main public room of the temple was grand, with towering marble pillars, statues of Poseidon and his godly family, and murals depicting his father’s myths. Fountains of both fresh and saltwater spouted from the walls, gathering in small pools set into the floor. 

A ginormous waterfall covered the back wall of the room, appearing from nowhere as if spouting directly from the solid rock ceiling, and disappearing the second it hit the floor. The spray from the water filled the entire temple with a heavy mist of water and the pure scent of ocean brine. 

The entire room was dim, with the only light coming from softly glowing pearls the size of basketballs mounted on the walls, and a large hearth directly in front of the temple’s entrance. 

Any other mortal would’ve barely been able to see in the gloom, but Percy had never had any trouble seeing in the dark. It was a perk of being a child of the sea god. Percy was perfectly adapted to surviving in the depths of the ocean, and since no sunlight reached that far he had no difficulty seeing in the dark. Bessie didn’t seem concerned by the dark either, which also made sense as he had originally been a sea creature too. 

This was where the citizens of the mountain came to worship Poseidon. It was probably the largest of his father’s temples that was still actively used. (Unless there was an even bigger one in Atlantis, which wouldn’t surprise Percy.)

Percy had been here before a few times, during solstice celebrations when demigods were officially welcomed onto the mountain, and then once after the battle of Manhattan. He’d never been here without his dad though, and anyone who’d been in the temple before Poseidon entered always fled before the pair got inside, so Percy had never seen anyone else there.

This time, Percy didn’t have the presence of one of the most powerful gods in the pantheon to scare off the worshippers.

Percy stopped in his tracks momentarily at the sight of a small group of nymphs who were all holding water jugs, with the last of them filing their jug at one of the freshwater fountains. His presence immediately drew the group’s attention. They giggled amongst themselves at the sight of him, gathering closer together to whisper. 

The sound of the waterfall drowned out what they were saying, but it was clear they were talking about him. Percy sighed internally. He was used to drawing attention to Olympus by now. The very first time he’d visited the mountain, people had bowed to him in the streets in thanks for stopping a war. People’s reactions to him hadn’t gotten better after that. 

He’d been hoping the temple would be empty, but wasn't surprised he wasn't that lucky. Thankfully, Percy knew he was allowed to enter his father’s private rooms which were tucked away at the back of the temple. That area was strictly off-limits to everyone except those Poseidon had personally invited. Though Percy had never been there without his father, the god had made it clear Percy would be welcome any time he wished to visit. They’d be able to find some privacy there.

“Hello!” 

Percy twitched at Bessie’s greeting to the nymphs that rang through the temple, not having expected the child to speak. The sound broke the respectful quiet. The nature spirits looked equally shocked, all of them whipping around to stare at him, apparently only now noticing the small child he held in his arms.

There was a moment of silence as the nymphs took in the sight, until one of them set down her water jug and stepped forward to the front of the group.

She looked middle-aged by mortal standards, with smile lines creasing the corners of her eyes. It made her the oldest of the group based on appearance, though that meant very little for nature spirits. Her skin was tinted slightly green, and her moss-green hair was bound up in a delicate silver hairnet. Her long skirts rustled as she offered a bow in his direction.

She looked slightly familiar, and Percy was fairly sure he’d seen her around camp occasionally. What was her name? Otonia? That sounded right.

“Forgive us, our prince,” she said softly, head still bowed. Percy bit his tongue to hold back his objection to the title. He was, unfortunately, used to his father’s subjects calling him a prince after his time spent in Atlantis. He couldn’t get too upset, since they weren’t technically wrong. He was the son of a king, a bastard though he was. 

“We did not know you were coming. We will leave you now.” 

“It’s alright, Otonia, there’s no need for that,” Percy said. Her head shot up and she looked at him with wide eyes. One of the nymphs behind her covered her mouth to muffle a soft involuntary gasp, as if they were shocked he remembered her name.

At least that’s what he hoped. There was always the possibility he’d just confidently called her by the wrong name, but that fear was quickly assuaged, as Otonia relaxed and her wide-eyed look melted into a small smile. She straightened up and moved to pick up the jug she had set on the floor.

“It’s no trouble, my prince, we were just finishing up anyways.”

Percy didn’t protest that, since from what he could see they had nearly finished collecting the purifying water from the wells when he’d entered. The rest of the nymphs followed Otonia’s lead, scooping up their jugs and following her out of the temple. 

Percy stepped out of their way as they drew near, and they inclined their heads respectfully as they passed. Bessie waved at them, still safely tucked into Percy’s arms, eliciting several coos of delight as the nymphs waved back. Soon they were out the door, leaving Percy and Bessie alone in the temple.

There was a moment of silence before the nymphs incorrectly decided they were far enough away to be out of Percy’s hearing range and broke out into excited chatter. 

“Did you see-”

“-cute little thing-”

“He knew your name-!”

Then a single voice rose above the rest of them in an excited squeal. “Our lord has a new godling?” 

That… wasn’t at all what was happening, but in retrospect, it was an understandable conclusion to draw if you didn’t know what was going on. 

Honestly, if Percy hadn't been there when Bessie had first shifted, he might’ve also thought his father had sired another demigod. The confusion was understandable; Bessie looked a lot like Percy, which meant he looked a lot like Poseidon, and as a sea creature, his magic would also feel more similar to Poseidon's than any other god. And though it was rare, it wasn’t unheard of for demigods to have nonhuman traits, so Bessie's horns wouldn’t have raised any questions. (Nico was one such example, with his black ram horns. The Stoll brothers were another, with small white feathered wings that fluttered at their ankles.)

“But they look so much like Perseus! Are we sure the child isn’t his?”

There was a pause as the other nymphs considered this before he heard Otonia speak. Her tone wasn’t exactly sharp, but it was reproachful. “No, of course not, we would have heard about it before if the little prince had sired a child. This isn’t the place for this discussion, anyway.” The group erupted into more giggles which faded as they moved further away from the temple, until they were too far away to hear. 

Percy heaved a sigh. 

This was just great. Even more confirmation that even though it had been years since the wars, his life was still a hot topic of gossip on Olympus. He wondered how quickly news of this would sweep through the mountain and beyond. 

“Where’s the fish?” Bessie’s curious inquiry split the quiet of the temple. Percy forcefully pushed the thought of the gossiping nymphs from his mind, and walked toward the waterfall in the back of the temple.

“Just over here.” Percy offered him a grin, nodding in the direction of the waterfall. Bessie gave the wall of water a suspicious look, clearly dubious when met with the sight of no fish.

Percy stepped right up to the falling water, unbothered by the saltwater spray. He reached his hand through the water, pressing it firmly against the stone wall hidden behind it. As soon as his hand touched the stone, his father’s presence returned. It was slightly more forceful than before, carrying a warning for those who shouldn’t be meddling where they weren’t welcome. Bessie whimpered slightly, pressing tighter against Percy’s chest. He could clearly feel the sea gods’ displeasure as well. 

But as soon as Poseidon’s attention brushed over Percy and Bessie, recognition sparked, and the feeling gentled once again. Up at the top of the waterfall, the flow of water split. The gap in the water opened further, slowly revealing a pair of large double doors set into the dark stone of the back wall. Apparently distracted from his fear, Bessie let out a small awed noise, reaching out to touch the shifting water. 

The hidden doors were god-sized, easily thirty feet tall. They were too large for any mortal to open, and Percy knew he wouldn’t be able to move them, no matter how hard he shoved them. 

Thankfully, he didn’t need to open them. The doors swing open under his touch as easily as he would open any normal door.

“Thanks, Dad,” he murmured as he entered the god’s private rooms. There was a sensation like his hair was being ruffled by an invisible hand as Percy stepped through the doors. They swung shut behind him and then his father’s presence was gone once more. 

The area they had entered was the most public-facing of Poseidon’s living quarters. It was a family room, so to speak, where Poseidon could entertain any guests he chose to allow entrance. There were several doorways leading off into separate rooms on each wall, some of which Percy knew led to the private chambers for Poseidon and his wife, and some of which led to guest rooms. 

Percy himself had spent the night after the battle of Manhattan in one of them. After the mess with Rachel becoming the oracle had been sorted out, his father had rather forcefully insisted that Percy spend the night where Poseidon could keep an eye on him. Percy hadn’t complained, still being too exhausted from his fight against Luke and Kronos to protest too much at the time. In the end, he was glad he hadn’t refused, as the night spent sleeping in his father’s temple had ended up being one of the most peaceful nights of rest he’d ever had in his life. The knowledge that his father was looking over him had been a new feeling, but it had led to him getting a deeper sleep than he could have managed anywhere else that night.

Now though, Percy didn’t head toward any of those doorways. Instead, he headed towards the main focal point of the room, a large pool set into the floor of the room. It was probably larger than an Olympic-sized swimming pool and took up most of the floor space. 

There was also a small seating area with lounges and chairs off to the side in case Poseidon needed to entertain anyone who wasn’t comfortable with being underwater, but it was clearly an afterthought. Percy knew from experience that the most comfortable seating area was in the pool.

Bessie pointed at the water, giving him a curious look. “Fish?”

“Yeah, buddy.” Percy grinned. “Fish!”

With confident strides, Percy walked straight over the surface of the pool. Once he was a few feet away from the ledge, he let himself drop down, submerging both of them in an instant. 

Immediately, Percy’s senses expanded. He could feel every inch of the pool and every minute temperature change and tiny current that ran through it. 

Because there were currents, even though there were no jets or anything that should have been needed to form a current in a stagnant pool like this, the water felt fresh and alive. It swirled around him as his senses reached out to meet it. 

The pool was deep. So deep that they sank for a good minute before they finally stopped, touching down on the soft sand lining the bottom of the pool. It was even darker here, all ambient light from the upper room depleted before it could reach them. The only hint of light came from a nearby jellyfish, which was the size of a small horse and glowed a soft pink. The glow wasn’t even enough to light up the group a few feet below it, but still, neither of them had any difficulty seeing.

If Percy didn’t know any better, he would have thought he’d been transported to the sea floor. It looked like they were truly at the bottom of the ocean, with soft sand beneath their feet and rocky outcroppings popping up irregularly. Corals of all shades and shapes surrounded them, forming a beautiful riot of colors. A shoal of fish swam by, and a few crabs scuttled away from where they had landed, surprised by their sudden appearance. 

Most of the animals ignored them, but a few came up to greet Percy, bumping into him happily.

Little snippets of their thoughts entered his mind. Fish as small as these didn’t have the same level of sentience as hippocampi, whales, dolphins, or other large animals did, so Percy couldn’t pick up any complete thoughts, but they still filled his mind with a small chorus of “little-lord-hello-prince-hello-hello!” 

Bessie made a soft mooing noise in excitement- which tugged on Percy’s heartstrings way too effectively in his opinion, who gave him the right to sound so cute- and wiggled out of Percy's arms. Percy finally let the boy go, knowing he wouldn't come to any harm or get lost here. 

Then, there came an unexpected flash of light, and Bessie was no more. Or rather, Bessie the human was no more, and in his place now swam a bull calf with a serpent's tail instead of hindlimbs.

Percy’s immediate reaction was panic. Was Bessie going to turn back into animal form every time he was in the water? Was he only able to stay human for a short amount of time? Had this been a one-off fluke, and Bessie was now forever going to be stuck in his creature form, unable to turn back again?

Percy’s noise of panic must have alerted Bessie something was wrong, because the small creature swam back around to his side, nudging against his shoulder with a soft black nose.

 Percy sighed shakily, trying his best to push away his panic and all the horrible scenarios that had flooded his mind. Bessie didn’t seem in distress, so Percy tried to reel in his emotions before he scared the boy. Creature. Whatever Bessie was. 

“Bessie-” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Bessie, can you turn back into a human?”

Bessie mooed, then in another golden flash, there was a human boy floating next to him, big brown eyes looking at him curiously from a thankfully human face. 

“Why?” the boy asked, not noticing Percy’s relieved slump. 

“Nothing!“ Percy said, trying his best to ignore the fading anxiety the scare had given him. ”It just startled me, that's all. Why did you change back?”

Bessie looked at Percy and cocked his head slightly with furrowed brows. 

“It’s easier to swim with a tail.” Bessie finally answered, with an exasperated inflection, as if to ask ‘Are you stupid?’ It was a scarily familiar tone of voice, one Percy himself made semi-regularly.

Internally, Percy wasn’t sure if he should be proud that Bessie was mastering such sass so early, or feel a dawning horror at the fact that he was now in charge of a boy who seemed to mirror him in so many ways. He knew he wasn’t easy to deal with as a child for several reasons, not least because he was so sarcastic and blunt. He knew he was still a pain for anyone who claimed to hold authority over him, as he wasn’t afraid to point out when they were acting like idiots. (At this point in his life most of the people who claimed to hold any authority over him were mainly gods, but…)

“Oh.” Well, it made sense, Percy supposed. There was a reason the Merpeople of his father’s kingdom had tails instead of legs. “Is it difficult to hold on to your human shape at all?”

“Not really,” Bessie answered, but then paused and sheepishly admitted, “Maybe it does make me a little tired.” 

”Alright, thank you for letting me know.” Percy said, which made Bessie perk up and beam at the praise. 

“One more question, then you can go back to the fish, okay?” Bessie nodded seriously.

“Your human form, did you choose what you looked like, or was that… automatic? Because it looks a lot like me.” Percy blushed a bit at having finally asked the question that had been lurking quietly in the back of his mind since he’d first seen Bessie.

Bessie shrank back a little and started to play shyly with one of his curls, which were floating freely in the water. 

“I’m not upset by it,” Percy assured him. “I’m just curious.”

“It’s mostly just what I looked like,” Bessie mumbled, not making eye contact. Percy raised an eyebrow at him, and Bessie continued after a pause, clearly reluctant. “But… I knew I already looked a lot like you. And I like you!” That part was said eagerly, as if to reassure him. “So… I decided to change it. Just a little bit so I would look even more like you.” 

He was mumbling so quietly by the time he finished that Percy could only barely make out what he was saying. His small voice melted Percy’s heart even further, and he really wasn’t sure what to do with all the new emotions that were swirling through him.

After a moment, Bessie peeked out from behind his bangs to check Percy’s reaction to what he had just said. Percy, who could barely contain the swell of affection at the sight of Bessie’s shy expression, ruffled the boy’s curly hair until it was floating unruly in the water. 

“Alright, kid, you can go back to playing with the fish now.“ he smiled as Bessie perked up, clearly forgetting his momentary shyness, and rushed off towards the nearby shoal of fish, which scattered at his approach.

Percy nodded wordlessly, letting Bessie swim off. As Percy half expected, there was another flash of light, and Bessie was once again back in his calf form.

The Ophiotaurus did a twirl in the water, flipping around as if to regain familiarity with his fins and hooves, before shooting off to explore.

Percy followed Bessie around the pool dutifully for at least an hour, watching as the boy explored every corner and crevasse, and examined every creature. He seemed to have a fondness for the giant bioluminescent jellyfish and kept herding the creatures over towards Percy as if to allow him to enjoy the glow too. It brought a smile to Percy’s face every time the calf did it, and he half suspected that was why Bessie kept doing it. 

Eventually, the pair of them ended up in the center of the pool, where the main sitting area was. The chairs were a bit different from the ones on the surface, being made in common Atlantian styles. Bessie ended up landing on a large fluffy white sphere that slightly deflated under his weight, which honestly reminded Percy of mortal bean bag chairs. There was another flash of light, and Bessie reappeared as a human boy, lying face down in the puff.

Percy heard a yawn as the kid relaxed even further into puff before he stopped moving. He was clearly still awake, but his breathing was already starting to slow. Percy remembered what Bessie had said about holding his human form making him feel tired, and also that this was, for all intents and purposes, a four-year-old, and four-year-olds need naps.

The puff was large enough for a god to sit comfortably, so there was more than enough room for the human-sized Percy to lay down next to the kid with room in between them. Bessie looked up when he felt the movement of the puff. 

“Tired?” Percy asked, suppressing a grin.

Bessie only blinked slowly at him, before wordlessly rolling over, ending up pressed against Percy’s side. Percy tucked Bessie closer to him on instinct, taking up a position all too familiar thanks to Estelle’s habit of making him her favorite napping spot every time he visited his mom’s apartment. The only difference he found was that Bessie was a good deal smaller than Estelle was now, and he had to be careful that Bessie’s horns didn't knock him in the chin for all that they were still small nubs.

Percy ran his hands through Bessie’s wild curl, eventually starting to mindlessly braid it back into a crown style to keep the curls from floating into his face thanks to the underwater currents. 

It only took a few more minutes of snuggling before Bessie dropped off to sleep. Percy, a little tired from the day's events and not daring to move less he disturb Bessie, inevitably followed him into Hypnos’ realm. 

[minty-mumbles]

For the bingo: Struggling against the caretaker! If you want a character, Wild or Hyrule?

Also, I feel like the mind torture is a little too mean to throw at Wild with his memory problems…but maybe that just means it’s perfect 👀💀

Here's some Hyrule struggling against his caretakers, Twilight and Warriors. Hyrule might have gotten a little bit poisoned. Just a little ���� He's fine though, promise!

~~~

“He won’t stay still!”

No, he bloody well wouldn’t, Hyrule thought weakly, putting all the energy he had into trashing against the restrictive arms holding him. The person behind him grunted but was otherwise unmoved by Hyrule’s efforts.

Hyrule was… confused. He didn’t know what was going on. Racking his brain, he tried to remember what had led up to this moment. Why was he on the ground? Why was he being restrained? Where had he been before he’d found himself in this situation? All of these questions remained unanswered as 

He didn’t know what was going on, but he was being restrained, and whatever was happening to him hurt. He needed to get away. He kicked out with his legs, but another pair of hands appeared out of nowhere and easily grabbed hold of his ankles. They held him gently, not needing to use any force to stop his weak attempts at striking out.

Hyrule was growing weaker by the second, and he knew if he didn’t get away soon, he wouldn’t be able to get away 

He whimpered softly, unable to keep himself quiet. His throat was burning from the inside out. His lungs too. Making a noise just made it hurt more, so he fell into pitiful silence. 

For a moment, he didn't even realize he’d stopped thrashing.

“He stopped fighting!” The voice proclaimed. “That’s good right?”

Another voice sounded from behind him, answering the first. “No, that just means he’s too tired to struggle anymore. Go get the antidote.”

Hyrule couldn’t concentrate on what the voices were saying. His mind kept getting caught up in the fact that they sounded familiar. It sounded like Warriors and Twilight. 

That was a funny thought. Hyrule might have laughed if he had the energy to do so. This couldn't be Warriors and Twilight, because they would never hurt him like this.

Distantly he wondered once again where he was, and where the other heroes were, but his capacity for complex thought was quickly slipping away as his head started to pound.

Hyrule’s mouth tasted metallic. Was that blood? He couldn't tell. He swallowed thickly, just in case it was. Despite how it burned traveling down his throat, he didn’t dare spit it out. He couldn’t let his blood touch the ground. He couldn’t remember why, exactly, it was so imperative he did not spill any blood, but he knew it was important. Vitally important.

When Hyrule felt something smooth and cool pressed against his lips, he blinked his eyes open blearily. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them, but that wasn’t important right now.

Hyrule’s field of vision hadn’t been great before, but it was narrowing even further now. The edges of his vision were growing dim, and Hyrule knew he wouldn’t be able to see soon. But he could still see what was directly in front of him.

A gloved hand was pressing a glass bottle filled with disgusting brown sludge.to his lips. The liquid was thick and oozed slowly down the neck of the bottle toward his mouth.

Hyrule pursed his lips, not letting the bottle nudge his mouth open. He didn’t know what was in the bottle, but it couldn't be good. When he tried to turn his face away, he found that his head was being cradled in someone’s hands and held firmly tilted back. 

The voices returned, but they were too soft and blurred for Hyrule to make out what they were saying. The whole world was swirling slowly around him.

After a moment, fingers prodded at his mouth, trying to get him to relax his jaw. Instinctively he tried to bite them. If he were any stronger, the person would have lost some fingers. As it was, all he managed was weakly chewing on the intruding appendages. The person pried open his mouth, and Hyrule braced for the inevitable. 

Sure enough, the bottle was back and its contents were poured into his mouth. It tastes sour and medicinal. Hyrule choked on the taste of it. He whined, trying to jerk his head out of the hold it was in, but he wasn’t strong enough. All his movement achieved was a painful throbbing in his skull. 

He would have tried to spit it out, but the hands seemed to have predicted this and were now forcing his jaw closed. A hand was rubbing firmly at his throat, and Hyrule had no choice but to swallow the bitter liquid.

That proved to be the last thing he could take. His body went limp. He simply had no more fight left in him.

He gave one last pitiful squeak as the world narrowed down to a singular point of light and then winked out of existence. The last thing Hyrule remembered before he fell unconscious was thinking how strange it was that his throat wasn’t hurting anymore.

~~~

Warriors sat back, his muscles slowly relaxing for the first time in hours. 

Slowly, he breathed out, trying to manage his adrenaline crash. It was all he could do to go from crouching in front of where the prone form of Hyrule was splayed out in Twilight’s lap, to similarly sprawled on the ground next to them.

It was an undignified position, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

It’d been one hell of a night, that was for certain. And Warriors hadn’t been the one to stay with a delirious Hyrule while the other ran to the nearest apothecary shop for the antidote.

Twilight was watching him cautiously, his eyes asking if it was really over. Warriors waved one of his hands dismissively. “It’s done. He’ll be alright now. It’ll take a while, but… he’ll recover.” Twilight cautiously removed his hands from where they’d been holding Hyrule's head steady. The traveler’s head flopped backwards, landing bonelessly on Twilight’s shoulder. 

The boy looked so helpless like this that it pulled on Warriors’ heartstrings.

Lady Hylia help him, but he held a soft spot for children. And although none of the other heroes could be called children- not after all they’d gone through- those who were younger than him had a firm grasp on his heart.

He never wanted to see any of them in pain. Too bad that was unavoidable, given that they were all heroes. Still. It had been hard to witness Hyrule squirming in agony. It’d been even harder to force that potion down his throat. 

Thank the goddess that the poison that’s been used on Hyrule was relatively common. Common enough that Warriors could identify it, and common enough that the apothecary knew exactly what antidote had been needed. 

If he hadn’t, Hyrule wouldn’t have lasted long enough for them to figure it out.

[unreadpoppy]

That Which Lies Beneath - a Minthara x Galatea Medieval AU (Chapter 5)

Chapter 4

Read on AO3

Taglist: @littlemoondarling

After a few rounds of cards, and many bottles of wine that had been stolen from the cellar, Galatea was positively drunk. 

“I don’t…I don’t know how you’re still…up.” She said, in a slurred speech. The two were sitting on the floor, by the fire, surrounded by pillows, the cards spread in between them, long forgotten. Minthara could not even remember how they got there. 

“The beverages of Menzoberranzan are stronger. This is nothing.” 

“Well, if I ever…go there or…visit your house, remind me not to drink the wine.” Galatea chuckled. “I’d pass out instantly.” 

She smirked playfully, lifting a brow. “Visit my house?” 

“Why, yes���it’s what friends do” she hiccuped “isn’t it?” 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have a lot of friends.” She shrugged. “Do you consider us friends?” 

“Yes. I mean… we have played cards, drank wine and shared stories. That has to count for…for something.” She picked up the rest of the bottle and raised it up. “One last drink. To friendship.” 

Minthara picked up her glass, and raised it too, downing the rest of it in one go. Galatea did the same, but in her state, half of the drink spilled down her face. 

“Oh, fuck me.” She said, trying to wipe the drink from her chin but making more of a mess. 

“Allow me.” Minthara chuckled and crawled over to her, grabbing one of the trains in her dress and dabbing her face with it.

Galatea inhaled deeply, realizing how close they suddenly were. “But…your dress…it’ll stain.”

“I’ll burn this blasted thing once I’m gone. A wine stain will not be a problem.” 

“Okay.” She breathed out, a blush forming on her cheeks and she hoped Minthara wouldn’t notice it. She lifted her hand and traced the tattoo on her neck. “What…what does it mean?” 

Minthara sighed at the touch, Galatea’s sharp nail causing goosebumps. “It’s the symbol of House Baenre.” 

“It’s very pretty…it looks like a-a spiderweb.” She looked into her eyes. “Fitting.” She chuckled and then looked down as Minthara stepped back. 

“Done.” 

“Thank you.” Galatea whispered. 

She nodded and stood up, offering a hand to Galatea. “You should get some sleep. I’ll be on my way.”

“Good…good idea.” The tiefling nodded and took her hand, standing up and stumbling on the bed. Minthara was almost out when she lifted her head to say “Thank you…for tonight.” 

“Of course.” 

She closed the door gently behind her, and when she turned around, she was face to face with Galatea’s younger sister, Briseidas.

“What are you doing here?” The young princess asked, crossing her arms. 

“We were playing cards.” Minthara said plainly, holding her hands behind her back. 

Briseidas eyes narrowed. “Why would you two play cards?” 

“Is she not allowed to play cards?” 

“No.”

“Then why do you care?” 

“Because she’s my sister. And no one’s supposed to be in her room.” 

Minthara eyed her, noticing the uneasiness she had and smirked. “You think I hurt your sister.” She chuckled. “Don’t fret. The times I’ve poisoned entire families, I always began with the annoying little sisters first.” 

Briseidas gulped and her eyes widened and Minthara took a step closer and whispered in her ear “Now, go to your room and leave your sister be. You can talk in the morning.” Minthara brushed past her and marched towards her chambers. 

. 

Galatea woke up the following morning with a splitting headache. Everything hurt: the sun peaking through the window, the sound of the maid entering her room, even the smell of the wine that still clung to her felt like an attack on her nostrils. 

Were it up to her, she’d stay in bed for the rest of the day, but a hand nudged her shoulder. 

“Your highness, the bath is prepared.” The maid said. “You have to go while the water’s still hot.” 

“Let me sleep.” She said, covering her eyes with her arm. 

“I cannot. You’ve already missed breakfast.” The covers were ripped from her and before she could react, the maid beat her with the pillow, like a child would to their sibling. 

That got Galatea to sit up. Her maid, Jenevelle Hallowleaf, looked at her with a mischievous smirk on her face. She had been hired a few years ago, after the princess’s nanny had passed away. Little was known about Jenevelle’s past, as she came from a small village of Selune worshippers, but that hadn’t mattered much to Galatea’s family, so long as she did not speak about Galatea being a tiefling. 

“You do know I could have your head for that.” 

Jenevelle shrugged. “You could, but I doubt you would. Besides, if you don’t bathe, everyone will know you snuck out last night.” 

“How do you-”

“Besides the fact you slept in your costume, I can smell the wine from here.” 

Galatea grumbled something under her breath before standing up and discarting her clothes before walking to the adjacent bathroom where the tub filled with steaming water was. She sighed at the feeling of the water on her skin, and a few seconds later, Jenevelle was beside her, washing her hair. 

“So…how was the ball?” She asked. 

“Curious, are we?” Galatea turned around to look at her with a raised brow. 

“What can I say? I like knowing what happens in these events.” 

“Very well. I didn’t stay long but it was like most balls. Nobles dancing and drinking and young men hounding my sister to get her attention. I was barely able to speak to her.” 

“Speaking of her…I heard a rumor in the servants quarters today-”

“Heard a rumor is your way of saying you were eavesdropping on the other maids?” 

“It’s not my fault they were speaking so loudly and I just happened to be nearby. Anyways, they said that the princess was quite upset.” 

Galatea turned fully around, a frown on her face. “Why?”

“Well, I couldn’t hear the rest because I had to come here, but the princess was seen crying.”

“Oh, for hells sake.” Galatea sighed. “Hurry up. I have to speak to her.” 

“Of course.” 

. 

Once she was ready, Galatea made her way to Briseidas room. She knocked on the door three times and one of Briseidas lady-in-waitings opened it, letting her inside. 

“Sister.” Briseidas said. She was sitting next to the windowsill, a book in her lap. “What are you doing here?” 

“I want to speak with you. Alone.” 

“Can’t it wait?” 

“No.” 

Briseidas sighed, dismissing her ladies. Galatea walked to her, sitting in an empty space near her, and pushed her veil aside to look at her sister.

“What do you want?” The young princess asked. 

“I was told you were crying. I got worried.” 

She crossed her arms, looking out the window. “What did you hear?” 

“Only that you were upset.” Galatea inched closer to her. “Did something happen last night?” 

“Why do you care? It’s not a matter that concerns you, anyways.” 

“Well, unfortunately for you, the gods cursed you with a sister that cares a lot about your well-being.” She reached forward, placing a stray hair of Briseidas’s behind her ear. “Besides, it is unlike you to be like that after a ball.” 

Briseidas looked at her, conflicted. “I…I can’t say what happened.”

“Why not?” The girl shook her head. “Briseidas, if you tell me, I can help you.” 

“You don’t understand, Gal.” She took in a deep breath, and Galatea could see the tears forming in her eyes. “If I say anything-” she hid her face behind her hands as she began to sob, and Galatea brought her close to her chest, shushing her and rubbing her eyes soothingly.  

“Yo-you have to promise me you tell anyone.” Briseidas said, her voice wavering. 

“I promise, now tell me what happened.” 

“That…that drow woman…I-I saw her, walking out of your room.” She sniffed, and Galatea tensed. “Sh-she said she’d poison us all if I said anything.” 

“Minthara said that to you?” 

Briseidas gave her a small, quizzical look before saying “Yes…Lady Baenre didn’t like me questioning her presence.” 

“What did you ask her?” 

“I wondered why she was leaving your room. She said you were playing cards, and then threatened to poison us all if I said anything. I-I got scared.”

Galatea cupped her cheek and smiled softly. “Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen. I’ll make sure of it.”

Briseidas nodded, and hugged her sister.

.

It did not take long for Galatea to find Minthara, as she was in the garden. What she did not expect was for her to be accompanied by Erzoured. 

“What are you doing out of your room, Galatea?” He asked harshly. 

“Father.” She lowered her head. “I need to speak with the Lady Baenre.” 

“And what in the hells could you want with her?” 

“Actually, it was I who sent for her, my lord.” Minthara said. 

He raised a brow. “Indeed? And why have you?”” 

“I, well-” “Lady Baenre is having issue of the…female persuasion, father. You would not understand.” Galatea took a step forward, linking her arms with Minthara and bringing her under her parasol. 

“I see…and was Briseidas not available for that task?” 

“Tis the sort of thing your youngest would not understand, my lord.” 

“Indeed. Besides, my sister is quite indisposed after last night’s ball, we must let her rest.” 

He narrowed his eyes, looking at both of them before rubbing his forehead and sighing. “Alright. But be quick. Lady Baenre and I have much to discuss.” 

“Of course.” Galatea bowed her head and walked away, bringing Minthara along. 

“What is so pressing?” The drow asked, once they were out of earshot from Erzoured. 

“My sister told me she saw you walking out of my room and that you threatened her and our family. Is it true?” 

“Yes.” 

Galatea sighed. “What happened, exactly?“

“Does it matter?” 

“To me, yes.” 

Minthara huffed. “Very well. I exited your room and she was outside of it. She thought I had caused you harm and did not believe when I told her we were playing cards. I then said that if I ever decided to poison your family, I’d begin with her, especially if she mentioned it to anyone else.” 

“Minthara.” Galatea said in a scolding tone. “You can’t say things like that to her, she believes them. Had father visited her first, you could have been in trouble.” 

“Your father’s a weak man, he wouldn’t have done anything.” 

“If it were anybody else crying, perhaps. But for her, he’ll do anything.” Galatea sighed and turned to look at Minthara. “I just…we have important plans set in motion. I wouldn’t want them to be compromised by you getting in trouble.” 

Minthara raised a brow. “I do not get in trouble. But…I’ll try to mince my words next time.” 

Galatea smiled, although Minthara could not see due to the heavy veil covering her face. “Thank you. I’ll retire to my chambers, but we can speak after supper.” 

Minthara nodded, with a small smile on her face. “Of course.” 

And with that, Galatea left.

. 

Later that evening, Minthara was sitting in her chambers, after having dinner, waiting for the princess to arrive. She looked at the fire, thinking about what she had to say. 

It didn’t take long for her to hear a knock on the door and to Galatea make her way inside, sitting next to her.

The two stayed silent for a moment, before Minthara said “I shall return home in the next few days. I had already overstayed my welcome and there’s business there I must attend to.” 

“Oh.” 

Then, Minthara added “However, I do want us to continue our conversations, even if it is through the written word.” 

Galatea raised a brow. “Is that your way of saying you want to exchange letters?” 

“Yes.” 

Galatea chuckled. “Is there a particular reason for that? Besides keeping each other updated on our plans.” 

She hesitated before answering. “I…enjoy our conversations. I would not like for them to end simply because of distance.” She smirked. “Besides, isn’t that what friends do?” 

“Ah, yes. Friends.” The tiefling smiled and shook her head. “Alright. I’ll write you letters.” 

“Good.” 

[slayfics]

Girl talk about villains.

Warnings: nsfw themes

650 words

Featured OCS:

💚 Kansatoki Hikari

💚 Yume Hoshino

💚 Asumi Tachibana

"Ugh," Asumi sighed lying down on the floor dramatically. "I'm so tired of studying," she complained.

"We could take a break," Kansatoki suggested.

Yume nodded in agreement, her own eyes beginning to feel heavy from the long study session.

"Hey, I have an unhinged question for you both," Asumi said sitting upright.

Kansatoki eyed her suspiciously, while Yume sweetly replied, "What is it?"

"If you had to fuck a villain, who would you choose?" Asumi asked.

"Overhaul," Kansatoki answered before Asumi finished her question.

"Oh, that was too fast, you've definitely thought about that before," Asumi said laughing.

"Kansa!" Yume exclaimed. "I thought you were over your Stockholm syndrome!" Yume whined.

"I didn't have Stockholm syndrome!"' Kansatoki snapped. "I just think he'd have the cleanest dick out of all the villains."

"KANSA!" Yume exclaimed, hiding her face, flustered by her friend's vulgarness.

"I bet he's got a girthy one too," Asumi added.

"Oh, he does," Kansatoki agreed.

"Hu?" both girls looked at her. "What did you just say?" Asumi clarified.

Kansatoki's eyes widened, "I just mean- I saw him up close and he radiated big dick energy. Anyway, what's your answer Asumi?" Kansatoki asked forcing the attention off herself.

Asumi thought for a moment before answering, "I have to say Compress."

"Hmm," Kansatoki hummed. "He wasn't bad looking when that ugly mask came off."

"I just want to show him a few tricks myself," Asumi said, with a snicker. "Gonna make that dick disappear."

The two girls erupted with laughter while Yume tilted her head to the side trying to understand the joke.

"All right Yume, your turn," Kansatoki said, her laughter subsiding as she turned her attention to her friend.

"Hu?!" Yume looked between the girls with a panicked expression on her face.

"What villain are you fucking?" Asumi asked.

"Are you insane!" Yume exclaimed, "I'm not-," she looked around as if someone else might hear before whispering, "making love with a villain."

"Of course not, this is just hypothetical, just pick one." Kansatoki urged.

"Fine! Hmmm," Yume thought for a moment, "If Red Riot became a villain, I'd pick him."

Asumi and Kansatoki looked at each other with a pointed glance, before turning back to Yume. "That's cheating you can't choose your boyfriend," Asumi said.

"It's not cheating! It's hypothetical right!? So hypothetically if Eijiro became villain I'd choose him," Yume said matter-of-factly placing her arms on her hips.

"That's it, hold her down Asumi," Kansatoki instructed.

"What?!" Yume yelled as Asumi followed Kansatoki's directions and held Yum's hands behind her back.

Kansatoki slinked over to Yume's stuffed animal collection before grabbing her beloved shark plushie. "Answer now or sharky gets it!" Kansatoki examined squeezing the stuffed animal.

"Put it down! Eijiro gave me that!" Yume squirmed in Asumi's grasp.

"Come on Yume, just say a name and we'll leave you alone," Asumi encouraged.

"Yeah, you can even agree with one of us! Are you thinking Overhaul or the lame magician?" Kansatoki asked.

"Hey! At least Compress isn't a germ freak like that beak brain!" Asumi reported.

"What is it with you both and villains with missing arms!" Yume yelled, still struggling to get out of Asumi's grasp.

"Wrong answer!" Kansatoki said, pulling on the shark's tail.

"DABI!" Yume yelled, causing Kansatoki to stop in her tracks.

"What?! EW!" Kansatoki said, repulsed, and dropped the stuffed animal.

"What do you mean ew!?" Yume questioned.

"Have you seen him?! He's only got half his skin! How do you know he hadn't burnt his dick off!?" Kansatoki questioned.

"I bet he's a freak in bed though," Asumi said letting go of Yume's arms.

"Oh, so you're into freaks?" Kansatoki asked Yume.

"KANSA!" Yume whined, bringing her knees to her chest and hiding her face, embarrassed with herself.

"I'm just teasing ya, I like that answer." Kansatoki laughed.

"Yeah, who knew you had it in you," Asumi agreed.

[yourbiggestfan2020]

This is accurate.

[mint-mumbles]

Anyone who talks about the “ao3 curse” needs to learn what causation vs correlation is. Saying that this “curse” is real is only harming people

The perpetration of this myth spreads paranoia, which harms people who genuinely believe in it. This is especially harmful to people who experience psychosis.

There are legitimately people who believe in this curse, which ends up making them paranoid and stressed

I see people who say that they want to write fanfiction, but won’t do so because they’re afraid of the curse

So for those who are scared about the curse:

Your loved one didn’t die because you wrote about a character you like dying

You weren’t hospitalized because someone commented that you were punctual on updates

You didn’t get sick because you wrote a sick fic

It’s okay

Everything is going to be okay

This cute kitty is cheering you on! ❤️

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Tokyo Mew Mew

Sample Size: 437 stories

Source: AO3