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blueblossomrose · 2 months ago

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This special post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, FLUFFY, TOO MUCH FLUFFY 😭 my obsession with old Disney movies screaming, fem!afab!MC, family n children, MC having a dream of getting married, reference very slightly to Cinderella (1950) obviously, diasomnia boys having their happy ending.

Note(s): I AM SO SO SO SORRY ABOUT THIS HIATUS, GUYS 😭😭😭 My mind was so busy these last few months with all my works thinking about writing that fluffy fluffy special to make up for my days of writing block after going on vacation for Carnaval 👽 I hope you guys love it as much as I... that cried writing it 💀 and I hope this excuses this long inactivity ☠️

All gifs edited by me, but divider got from here.

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Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

A Wish Your Heart Makes

Have faith in your dreams and someday Your rainbow will come smiling through No matter how your heart is grieving If you keep on believing The dream that you wish will come true

“Are happy endings fairy tale's thing?”

Malleus couldn’t say. Human inventions had always been a mystery to him. He always had a distant and almost skeptical view of the happy endings that human stories so extol. To him, these narratives were like the light breeze of a summer night, pleasant and fleeting, but difficult to grasp and truly understand. As a fae, his nature made him see the world from a different perspective, and the idea of an ending — whether happy or tragic — was, to him, a human thing. He found it curious how humans always yearned for a definitive outcome, as if it were a vital necessity of their ephemeral existences. They sought in stories the hope that, in the end, everything would work out.

Malleus had never given much thought to his own dreams. Not in the others sense, at least. He understood dreams as manifestations of the mind, echoes of the subconscious, scattered fragments of reality shaped by desire or fear.

To him, dreams were almost tangible, an intrinsic element of his own magic — and yet he had never stopped to consider what it was that he, Malleus Draconia, truly desired.

Not that Briar Valley didn't have its own stories... but thinking about it that way, humans are far removed from theirs.

Happy endings… the concept was foreign to him. Fairy tales were — ironically — human stories, created to comfort fragile hearts, tales where love always prevailed and heroes were rewarded for their virtue.

Dragons like him, however, were supposed to be the obstacles that prevented such happiness. Beautiful and powerful beings... but lonely.

But then, there was [Name]. The magicless human who one day appeared in his life and in a few months, made his already apparently consolidated worldview turn upside down.

It was [Name] who taught him to dream.

She spoke of dreams as something beautiful and fragile. When they were still in school, he had heard her whisper to herself, with a twinkle in her eye, about how she wanted to marry one day. Because she wanted true love.

“A dream is a wish your heart makes,” she had said once, and it's been stuck in his head ever since.

Such a simple explanation for something that took him a long time to elaborate. Maybe that was the simplicity that comes with such a short life. He admired it, even back then.

The thought did not linger, however. No, he knew. He was in love. Happy endings...

The great hall of Briar Valley Castle glowed with enchanted candlelight, reflecting off the stained glass windows that adorned the ancient stone walls. The air was filled with the soft melody of a waltz as nobles and ambassadors watched with interest as the king and queen’s eldest daughter, Princess Aurora, danced with her suitor, as her pink gown swirled gracefully.

It was a grand celebration, the 16th birthday of the half-fae princess.

The old senators of the council, those whom Malleus deeply despised, were present, but they kept to themselves. Their accessibility was limited, limited by the changes Malleus and his human had brought about over the years. There was still resistance — whom Malleus called idiots and fools when he was particularly angry — but most of the councilors and palace staff had already surrendered to the strength of [Name]’s kindness, which contrasted with her husband's sometimes skittish temperament.

Aurora, the star of the night, twirled around the ballroom, she looked a beguiling sight, wearing the pink gown she had specially ordered for the occasion — certainly influenced by a certain bat fae she referred to as 'Grandpa Lilia' — along with the jewelry she received as a gift from her great-grandmother, Maleficia.

From where they stood, Malleus and [Name] watched in silence. His green eyes shone with something between pride and nostalgia.

“She’s beautiful,” [Name] murmured, a soft smile on her lips as her eyes followed her daughter’s every graceful movement.

Malleus watched her for a moment before answering. “Yes… but I confess I didn’t expect this day to come so quickly. I still remember when she had to climb on a chair to reach my stomach.”

[Name] chuckled softly. “I guess now she might just look at you.”

Malleus let out an amused sigh, but his gaze returned to his daughter with a touch of melancholy. “Humans grow up too fast...”

Before [Name] could respond, a movement beneath one of the large buffet tables caught her attention. She frowned as she noticed two small silhouettes sneaking stealthily between the legs of the furniture.

The six-year-old twins Magnus and Kyrval were under the table, trying to steal sweets from the silver trays. Their green eyes glinted with mischief as they reached out for honey cakes and candied fruit. But before they could escape with their stolen candies, two soldiers scared the two by pulling them out from under the table.

“My lords... you can't just crawl through the royal hall like that!” one of the soldiers scolded, the respectful but firm voice.

“But we're hungry!” Magnus protested, holding a piece of cheese as if it were a precious treasure.

“And small meals taste better!” Kyrval added, blinking innocently.

“Magnus! Kyrval!” she scolded them almost immediately as Malleus held back a laugh.

“They inherited Lilia’s mischievous spirit… and a little of yours, perhaps.”

[Name] gave him an indignant look. “Mine? Malleus, I don’t remember myself going around stealing sweets at royal balls!”

He chuckled softly, leaning toward her. “No… but I do remember a certain young lady who stole my heart many years ago.”

[Name] felt her cheeks flush, but she smiled sweetly almost automatically with the phrase. “... Do you regret that, your majesty?”

Malleus didn’t answer right away. His green eyes roamed the hall — his children, his wife, the castle lit up in celebration... faes, half-faes and even some humans... not alone.

Then he looked at [Name] again, his expression softening in a way only she could see. “Never.” He gently took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

He never imagined he would have something like this.

Everything changed when the girl from another world appeared. No fear. No hesitation. No one knows why the magic mirror brought [Name] to Twisted Wonderland... but honestly? Malleus was glad it did. She was the deepest desire within his heart. His dream.

Dragons aren't usually given happy endings. Maybe, just maybe... he was an exception to the rule.

He looked at [Name], his eyes meeting hers with a soft glow. And he’s happy with it.

To dream is to wish.

Lilia had been thinking about this idea for years. In his long life of over 700 years, he had experienced many misfortunes, losses, and sorrows — wars that devastated kingdoms, bitter goodbyes, and the feeling of carrying the weight of everthing on his shoulders.

But he had also been able to find happiness.

In raising Silver, in the tenderness of caring for Malleus, in the moments of pride in watching Sebek mature, even if in fits and starts.

He had never really dreamed of anything more than that. If he were honest with himself, his wish was simple: peace. How it would come, in what form, with whom — it didn’t matter.

But, as always, life had decided for him. With his children grown up, with their own homes, paths and families, he thought it might be time to explore the world. To wander. To be in distant cities. To sleep under the stars, free from worries. But that was not what happened.

A sweet wife from a distant world without magic and lively triplets had made his life much more noisy. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

The kitchen was scented with lavender and some sweet-smelling incense he had bought on a trip they took a year ago. He remembers getting a huge scolding from [Name] for buying so many, but he light them almost every day. Lilia, wearing an apron embroidered with small berries — a gift from the girls last Father's Day —, washed the dishes while humming softly.

“Dad, come see!” Aisha’s voice cut through the air with excitement. “I’m humiliating Arista at the Kart again!”

Lilia raised his eyebrows with a smile on his lips. With a light snap of his fingers, the utensils began to wash themselves, floating gently around the sink. He took off his apron, drying his hands with a cloth and headed to the living room.

“Humiliating me?” Arista replied with a joking frown. “All I saw was you losing it and pushing all the buttons!”

It was Lilia's first time raising girls, and it was in this chaotic and adorable process that he came to an inevitable conclusion: raising children would always be a constant learning experience — regardless of your experience in the subject.

“Battle tactics, you wouldn’t understand!” Aisha declared with exaggerated confidence, lunging forward as if that would speed up her character in the game.

“I win.” Arista said in a calm and satisfied tone, leaning back on the sofa like a queen on a throne, the controller resting gently on her lap.

"Whaaat?!" Aisha screamed, jumping from where she was sitting as if she had just been stabbed. Her wide eyes stared at the screen where the dots shone mercilessly: Arista - 1st place.

Lilia, who was watching the scene from the kitchen door, laughed softly.

"Wow, Arista..." Adela said softly, briefly looking away from her book to her older sister. She wasn't the most competitive, but she was always there to support her sisters, even with her shy and quiet personality. At the moment, she was gently stroking the silky fur of one of Lilia's bats, which was sleeping curled up in her lap like a fluffy, furry ball.

Count Fabulous — as [Name] gave him when she and Lilia were still studying at NRC — was the most spoiled of Lilia’s bats. Ever since Adela was a baby, he had followed her around, perching on nearby furniture or on her head as if he were her personal protector. Now, he dozed heavily, his ears fluttering slightly, lulled by the girl’s soft voice, but with Aisha and Arista moving on the couch, he ended up waking up and squeaking when he looked at the screen.

“Even Count is surprised,” Lilia murmured humorously, watching the bat stir fluttering the fabric of Adela's dress.

Adela smiled, stroking his back with a finger. “He bet on Aisha, I think.”

“Cute little traitor.” Arista said, smiling despite the line.

With the girls still vibrating with the echoes of the game’s contention, the front door opened with a soft creak, followed by the familiar sound of [Name]’s footsteps. Lilia looked up with a soft glow in his red eyes and smiled as he saw his wife’s figure crossing the threshold of the house.

Without saying a word, [Name] walked over to the couch where the triplets were spread out and, with a theatrical movement, threw herself gently on top of them, like a human blanket. She didn't press too hard, of course — just enough to cover them with her body and elicit immediate reactions.

"Mom!!," Aisha protested between laughs, trying to free herself.

"Rescue mission! Fabulous, save us!" Arista shouted, laughing, while Count Fabulous just opened one lazy eye on Adela's lap before settling back down, oblivious to the commotion.

"Mama, you're feel cold... stay a little longer..." Adela murmured, hugging her mother's arm affectionately.

"My days off are coming..." [Name] said, her voice muffled between her daughters' hair and the pillows. "I missed my noisy gang so so so much~"

Lilia approached the couch with his hands on his hips, his eyes half-closed and a mischievous smile curving his lips. “Can I join you?” he asked with false innocence.

Before any of the four could respond, the couch rocked gently, and then, with a soft green glow, it tilted forward as if it had a life of its own, gently dumping all of the girls onto the living room’s plush carpet. A bundle of giggles, messy hair, arms and legs all jumbled together, collapsed to the floor like a pile of animated pillows.

“AH! Dad!!” Aisha and Arista shouted in unison, Aisha louder than Arista, actually.

"I was comfortable, papa!" Adela grumbled, sitting down with Count Fabulous all ruffled on her lap, flapping his wings indignantly before landing again, huffing softly.

"I can't believe it, Lilia!" [Name] said, trying to look angry, but already with a smile on her lips and her eyes shining with laughter. Lilia approached slowly, as if he were going to seal a peace agreement with a kiss, and so he did — he leaned over, laughing softly, and kissed her forehead sweetly before lying down on top of everyone like [Name] did moments ago.

"Not agaaaain!" the three shouted in unison, between laughter and attempts to escape from their father's arms.

Still stretched out on the rug, the girls pointed to the ceiling, commenting excitedly on the floating ornaments — small enchanted lights that spun gently like fireflies caught in a whirlwind. They were souvenirs left by 'big bro' — Silver — on his last visit.

To some people, the idea of a house still full of young children might seem like the complete opposite of a peaceful retirement. And by traditional standards of rest, it was.

But to Lilia it didn't matter. It never mattered. Being with his family was what he dreamed of. It was all he wish for. “In dreams you lose your headaches, whoever you wish for, you keep.”

There was his rest. Not in the empty spaces, but in the constant presence. In the sound of clumsy footsteps in the mornings, in the voices calling "Dad!" throughout the house, in the tight hugs, in the fights over the last cookie, in the notes left on the table and the stories told under blankets.

Yes, he still traveled. He had his moments of adventure, exploring new places with the girls strapped to backpacks, [Name] with the map in hand. It was in family. It was messy. It was noisy.

This was Lilia’s rest. A rest in true Lilia style: full of voices, chaotic, but overflowing with love.

Silver knew dreaming well. It was what he had done for most of his life, and it was also an instinctive part of his own magic. Dreams were a sweet treat, a place where his worries melted away and all that was left was the best, most beautiful sky and peace.

“Have faith in your dreams and someday, your rainbow will come smiling through,” When he thought of this, what came to mind was his desire to serve Malleus, to be the knight that Lilia trained him to be. At the same time, he wanted to be with his family and friends, but he didn’t expect to fall in love.

It came subtly, with dreams. He saw her. A charming girl, who in his opinion was beautiful. She was there, in his deepest dreams, and he did not understand who she was… until he saw [Name] for the first time.

He was lying on the couch, his head resting on [Name's] lap. She was gently stroking his hair, her fingers running through it like a gentle wind. With the book on one of her hands, she was quietly reading an old story, pausing only to smile at the faces Silver made when his bangs fell into his eyes because of her caresses. He had returned from work tired, not with the same chronic drowsiness of his adolescence, but with the normal tiredness of someone who dutifully fulfills his duties. As one of the most trusted knights of the king, Silver carried great responsibility on his shoulders. But at home, with them, he could truly rest. The sound of pages turning mingled with the distant ticking of the wall clock and the rustling of leaves outside.

"Daddy!" Hana yelled happily, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor as she ran across the room. Without stopping, she threw herself at Silver with an enthusiastic hug, nearly knocking him off the couch. Her blond hair flew like gold threads in the wind, and her auroral eyes sparkled with joy. Silver jumped a little on the couch, a gasp escaping him at the impact—more from surprise than pain.

[Name] let out a light laugh, covering her mouth with her free hand as her gaze danced between her husband and daughter. Silver, even exhausted, gave a gentle smile, his half-closed eyes opening a little wider to look at his beautiful — literal — princess. And she loved being called that. Every time she heard the title come out of her father's calm voice, her little face lit up.

Hana wasn’t old enough to know exactly everything about her family, so Silver tried to tell her what was appropriate for a child to know, sometimes with the help of Lilia and [Name]. He had long realized that his daughter loved the concept of princesses. But not political princesses, more 'real' ones— she liked the ones who sang with the animals of the forest, the fairy tale ones. He would never forget the almost heavenly glow in her eyes the day Malleus bowed slightly, placed his crown on Hana’s little head, and said with a faint smile: "There, now the princess has a crown." Hana was ecstatic. She spent a whole week wearing tiaras made of flowers or paper.

“Daddy, you came home early today!” she said, her adorable little voice filling Silver’s ears like sweet music, while those little arms wrapped tightly and lovingly around his neck.

"I was able to be released early by order of General Zigvolt, my princess." Silver said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

[Name] laughed again. She gently tugged at a lock of Silver’s hair. “Sebek released you? Now that’s a surprise,” she said, raising an eyebrow humorously.

Silver couldn’t help but laugh at [Name’s] words. Sebek was adamant about schedules most of the time, and that was no secret to anyone. On the one hand, it was good. He kept everything in order, like a true general. On the other hand… well.

Hana, who was squirming between her parents with the energy that children normally have, rolled over with such excitement that she almost slipped off the couch, but Silver was faster. With a fluid movement he caught her with one strong hand, wrapping it around her waist and pulling her back safely.

“Careful, princess,” Silver said, his auroral eyes resting on her with tenderness and attention.

Hana lifted her chin proudly, her little hands on her hips and a glint in her eyes. “I knew Daddy would catch me, so I’m not afraid!”

Silver smiled once more. “I will always catch you, but take care of yourself too, my flower,” he said, his voice as serene as ever.

“Okay!” Hana smiled at her father, that innocent smile that lit up the soul, before stretching backwards like a little cat in the sun. As her arms stretched lazily, her voice filled the living room, chattering about her day. Silver listened to everything with full attention, his calm eyes fixed on her, and his hands always ready in case she slipped off the couch again.

In a moment of pause, Hana began to play absentmindedly with the wedding ring on her father's finger, slowly turning it with her small, delicate fingers. Without warning, Hana simply sleep. She slid softly onto Silver’s chest, her breathing even and calm, her golden eyelashes resting on her rosy cheeks. Silver felt her soft weight and had to suppress the urge to laugh. Hana was a thousand times more energetic than he had been in his childhood, — which, honestly, wasn’t much of a feat, considering his old constant sleeping habits — but when she got tired, there was no warning. She would simply pass out, as if someone had flipped a switch in her.

Silver rested her little head on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her, his hand resting on her back. He felt his daughter's heart beating softly, and the warmth of her pressed against his chest was all he needed to know that he was at home.

For a moment, all was silence and peace—the kind that only existed within the purest dreams. When he thought about his life now, about everything he had experienced—he never, not in a million years, expected to be graced with such happiness. His rainbow had come. And now it slept softly on his chest, in a little flowery dress, with her little hand still holding his finger.

"Daydreaming again?" [Name] whispered to him as she noticed his gaze.

"Living a dream, actually." He replied.

Dream? What he had was not a dream. It was conviction. A solid goal, an unbreakable purpose. He would become a knight worthy of serving Malleus.

Sebek trained until his bones ached, endured thunderstorms —literally— and never took his eyes off the goal. The half-human blood he carried? An obstacle to be overcome with discipline and hard work. “No matter how your heart is grieving, If you keep on believing...”

If anyone, back then, dared to insinuate that he would marry — how awful — a human, he would scream so loudly in their ear that their eardrums would beg for mercy.

But as a wise old man once said — or perhaps it was Lilia in one of his absurd proverbs: "The earth doesn't turn, it capsizes with style."

And now, here he was — Sir Sebek Zigvolt, General, loyal knight to King Malleus Draconia... beside his lovely human wife and their two radiant children.

“Ivan!” Sebek called, his voice still naturally strong, but intentionally softened— an effort he made for only one person. “Don’t pull on the reins so hard! You’ll hurt the horse!”

Ivan, atop a sturdy horse with a grayish coat and a mane that shimmered faintly, turned calmly to his father. His eyes gleamed with amusement. “I know, father. I was just testing whether he responded well to my voice,” he replied, with that subtle teasing tone that only Sebek recognized as a direct inheritance from [Name].

Nearby, sitting under the shade of a cherry tree with their daughter, [Name] held back her laughter. The pent-up sound still escaped in joyful sighs. “Where did you get that horse again?” she asked, arching an eyebrow with an amused smile.

Sebek huffs, trying to maintain his composure. "For training, of course."

"Of course it is." [Name] held back a slight loving eye roll at Sebek's words, that kind of response so typical of him.

She then watched him approach Amelie with affection visible on his naturally stern face—a softness that only emerged in front of his daughter.

As quietly as his voice would allow, he knelt down at her level and said, “Are you enjoying the stroll, my lady?”

Amelie looked at him with shining eyes. A small, bright smile spread across her face. “Yes, Daddy!” she answered happily, and raised her short arms toward him, asking to be held.

Without hesitation, Sebek picked her up with the greatest care in the world. He positioned Amelie against his chest, shielding her ears from the loud tinkling sound.

Ivan, who was watching everything from the top of the horse, arched an eyebrow as if he was about to make a sharp comment. But when he saw his sister nestled against his father's chest, her little fingers playing with the brooch on Sebek's clothes, he simply got off his horse and approached in silence.

"General Zigvolt, you are breaking the knightly protocol again," Ivan said, his tone exaggeratedly serious, but his eyes barely concealed the amusement.

Sebek gave him a half-closed look. "When you turn a father, you will understand that there is no protocol more sacred than that of protecting your children." He adjusted Amelie better in his arms. "And put on those gloves properly, Ivan. A knight must always be ready."

Ivan sighed at the drama. Then, he knelt down beside his dad, leaning down slightly until he was at his sister’s level.

“Are you having fun, Lie?” he asked softly, touching her nose with a finger.

Amelie laughed softly. “Yes! Ivan looks beautiful in his armor!” he declared, as if it were the greatest truth in the universe. Ivan blushed slightly, and [Name] could barely contain another laugh.

Sebek would be lying if he said he’d never considered having children. Perhaps, in some distant future—if he reached the pinnacle of his career as a loyal and worthy knight—he might be granted the honor of marrying a pure-blooded fae. It was the kind of future he’d always been pictured as: respectable, honorable…

But now… now, when he looked at his little Amelie against his chest, or at Ivan laughing as he receives a sweet stroke of his hair from his mother— the image seemed absurd. Almost laughable.

All his life, he had been taught, indoctrinated, encouraged — partially? Completely — by his grandfather Baul, to hate a part of himself. To deny it. To hide it. To regard his human half as inferior, weak, inconvenient. To view his own father with disdain. And for a while… he believed it. He carried that hatred like a banner.

He wasn’t crucifying his grandfather, of course not. Old Baul had fought in a cruel war, with countless losses. He was a marked veteran —scarred, traumatized, and horrified.

But the truth was this: Sebek was happy. Happy that this human girl without magic, from another world, had stepped through the magic mirror and—clumsily—interfered in his life. And stayed.

[Name] had changed him. More than anything else, anyone else. Sure, Silver, and even his insufferable classmates at Night Raven College had their part in deconstructing his prejudices. But the real turning point came with her.

He remembered well the day of his first visit to his old home. [Name] squeezed his hand. And he remembered the look in his father’s eyes. The way Mr. Zigvolt — that loving, always clumsy, always smiling dentist — looked at him with so much love… and no hurt. Even after all the years of rejection. Sebek bowed. And apologized. He saw his father’s eyes fill with tears. And yes — of course he had always been that emotional fool, and Sebek used to get irritated by it. But now, no. Now, he understood. And it didn’t bother him anymore.

In the middle of his thoughts, Sebek heard soft voices breaking through.

“Grandpa and Grandma will definitely make that recipe when we visit them next weekend. I mean, I bet great-grandpa will be there too,” said Ivan, with the confidence of someone who had already foreseen the entire menu and the habitual discussion from his grandparents' house.

“Haha, great-grandpa is so funny!” replied Amelie, swinging her legs back and forth. “He always fights with grandpa to hold us back..."

Sebek sighed with a tiny smile. The sight of Baul arguing with Mr. Zigvolt over who would pick up Amelie first was, in fact, more frequent than he cared to admit.

Sebek helped Ivan mount again, adjusting the saddle with practiced precision. When Amelie asked to climb on too, he didn't hesitate - his arms lifted her as if she were a feather, carefully placing her in front of her brother. She held the reins with wide eyes of excitement, and Ivan guided her with the same care that their father showed her. It was beautiful to see. It was in these moments that Sebek realized that he was indeed an example.

[Name] watched everything with a growing warmth in her chest. She would never have imagined — ever — that this half-impossible dream would end like this. No. It wouldn't end. It had started like this. A home. A family.

“The dream that you wish, will come true.”

And the funniest part? Sebek said,with all the letters, that he would never be like his father. But there he was, discreetly pushing a small, colorful package of magic candy into his children's hands after successfully dodging the horse.

"Don't tell your mother," he murmured, with a half-smile on his lips. [Name] watched the scene in silence, holding back her laughter. She saw Ivan and Amelie exchange knowing looks, make the silence symbol with their fingers on their lips and smile mischievously.

And that was true for Sebek, too. When he saw himself with a smile on his face — sincere, wide, light —watching his children share the candy, laughing and whispering among themselves… He realized. This was more than a dream. It was a reality.

His wish to become a knight, which had once existed only for honor, glory, and pride, had transformed. It wasn’t just for Malleus, or even for himself.

To protect his home. His wife. His children. That human part of him that he had once despised… but now, finally, he loved.

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sillysiluriforme · 3 months ago

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Would the teens go to parties on the street? Like raves? When they’re older obviously. Sorry I have been seeing way too much bloquinhos de carnaval ads lately and can’t get the image of Adrien wearing the goofiest, most meme-you-find-on-a-white-woman-instagrams-page inspired outfit ever with glitter on his skin

The raves would be too loud and noisy their PTSD would be flaring up from everything. They probably had to defeat a glitter themed akuma that would give them sparkly nightmares for years. Adrien does love his awful graphic tees though

#silu responds

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norathianprincess · 1 month ago

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I feel like i am unable to express into words how important the HTTYD books are for me and what an fantastical experience it was to grow up with the characters, so instead i will express my feelings by talking about my first time reading the last books, How to Fight a Dragon's Fury.

For context, i read book 11 before book 12 was published and i didn't knew when book 12 would come out, i didn't look in the internet or anything. I only found out the publication of book 12 when i saw it in the shopping mall bookstore. Me and my dad where about to exit the mall when i decided to visit the bookstore, i went straight to the children's and youth section i saw a big display in a table to a new book with a turquoise cover. Surrounded by other children, I approached the table so I could see the cover of the book, the first thing that caught my attention was the gigantic reptilian eye, then i noticed the name right above : Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.

Recognizing that this was the long-awaited conclusion to my favorite series, I nearly screamed in the middle of the bookstore before picking up the book and begging my dad to buy it. He bought it and I was so excited to find out what happened that I started reading it in the car, even though I have severe motion sickness when i am in a vehicle and not looking directly at the windows. When I got home I just read, non-stop, because I needed to know what was going to happen to Hiccup and Toothless. I started reading in the middle of the afternoon and when it was 2 in the morning my mother came back from a Carnaval party and noticed the lights of my room were still on, she opened the door and found me lying on my bed in the fetal position crying desperately. I had finished the book, but I felt like my childhood had ended with it and I felt so much pain saying goodbye to the characters I had followed for so long. These feelings, along with the grief I felt for Furious and that beautifully written epilogue made me burst into tears, but I didn't feel bitterness or frustration, the ending was perfect, the message was perfect.

To this day i say that How to Fight a Dragon's Fury is one of if not my favorite book, because even though I've grown up and read many wonderful works since then, nothing will ever stay with me more than the story of a little Viking who had to become a hero the hard way.

#httyd #httyd books #httyd rtte #httyd hiccup #literature #book!hiccup #books and reading #books #httyd furious #hiccup horrendous haddock iii

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claramelooo · 4 months ago

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WOVEN FATES (4/20)

The Carnaval week are coming, so I am having a few moments to chill and write for you.

Just enjoy my perfection!

MINOR DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Summary: External events take away your control of your own life.

Hey! Now I've a masterlist.

Control

The day began like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. The plants, once vibrant, now wilted in their pots, as if the universe itself were draining the life around you. The weather, unstable and oppressive, mirrored the chaos settling in your mind. And the headache—oh, the headache—hammered at your temples like a warning that nothing else would go right. It felt as if the world were conspiring against you, and you had no idea just how true that was.

As you descended the stairs of your building, you nearly tripped over the yellow envelope waiting innocently in your mailbox. The landlord’s notice was a dull blade, cutting without mercy: "Building sold. Demolition in 60 days. Mandatory eviction."

Your hands trembled as they clutched the paper, your fingers pressing into it with the force of despair. That tiny 23m² box was all you had—a precarious refuge, yes, but yours. The only place where rent didn’t devour your waitress salary at the café. It didn’t get much sunlight, and the leaks never failed to show up when it rained, but it was home. And now, even that was being taken from you.

But there was no time for panic to settle. The bus arrived honking, and you ran, your broken heel striking the asphalt like a metronome of misfortune. Traffic was at a standstill, the bus’s air conditioning spat out moldy air, and your phone vibrated. It was your father. You answered out of instinct, never imagining that call would be yet another blow.

"What the hell are you doing?!" His voice cut like a jagged saw, rough and filled with fury. "Your brother... that disgusting excuse of a brother…"

Your heart stopped. Josh. You imagined him dead, beaten, run over. But the truth was worse.

"I caught him with a man in our house! In my bed!" Your father spat the words as if they were poison. “And you’re going to fix this. Now. He should be on his way.”

"Dad, I… I’m on my way to work, I can’t—"

"You’re the only one he listens to!" He roared, and you pulled the phone away from your ear, embarrassed. The other passengers were staring, their gazes pressing into you like silent judgments. "Fix it."

The call ended. You swallowed your sobs and despair, chewing them down as you bit your nails until they bled. The bus finally reached your stop, but you couldn’t even remember getting off. Your thoughts were scrambled, your mind racing in every direction. Work, your brother, the eviction—it all blurred into a fog of agony.

The bus terminal smelled of stale coffee and desperation. Flickering fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow on cracked plastic benches, illuminating weary faces staring at the ground as if the answer to all their troubles was written in the dirty linoleum. You ran between platforms, your heart pounding in rhythm with the loudspeakers announcing departures to distant places. Each destination sounded like a farewell.

And then you saw him.

Josh was sitting in the darkest corner of Platform 4, his worn-out backpack clutched in his lap like a shield. His right eye was swollen shut, purple and bruised, a red gash splitting his eyebrow. And yet, he smiled when he saw you—a shaky smile, full of broken teeth and shame.

"Josh…" You swallowed the lump in your throat, approaching slowly, as if he were a wounded animal.

"Hey, sis," he said, his voice hoarse. He tried to stand but stumbled, and you rushed to steady him. His body smelled of dried blood and cheap menthol ointment.

You sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, just like when you were kids hiding under the stairs from your parents’ fights. You pulled a damp tissue from your bag and started cleaning the blood from his face, your hands trembling.

"Did he hit you?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

Josh laughed—a bitter sound. "Not just him. A friend of his... thought I was hitting on his son. So he and two other guys waited for me in the alley." He rested his head against the wall, closing his good eye. "Three against one. I did okay, though."

You couldn’t hold back your tears. You remembered him at sixteen, teaching you how to ride a bike, his hands already calloused from work. You remembered the nights he came home late from the grocery store job, his uniform stained with grease, yet he still helped you with your math homework.

"Why didn’t you ever tell me?" you whispered.

Josh opened his eyes, staring into nothing. "You were too young and already had too much on your plate. Work, school, taking care of Grandma... How could I throw one more problem at you?" He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faded tattoo of a bird in flight. "Besides, the world out there... it’s not made for people like me, sis."

You grabbed his hand, his fingers rough from carrying boxes. "You are not a problem, Josh. You never were."

He looked at you, his good eye glistening. "You know the worst part? It’s not the beatings, not Dad calling me a freak… It’s having to pretend for 32 years. Pretending I liked it when he talked about women, pretending I was with my fiancée when I disappeared from home…" His voice cracked, and you felt the weight of every word.

You knew you had to do something. With your heart clenched, you stood up slowly, determined. You helped Josh up and took him to your apartment, silently promising yourself you’d find him a job. If your father didn’t want him anymore, maybe you could give him a fresh start.

On the way, as you waited for a taxi, your thoughts tangled into a storm: the eviction notice, Josh being kicked out, your father’s relentless demands.

The taxi carried you through the maze of the city. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you typed a quick message to América:

Family emergency. I’ll be late. Can you cover for me?

After settling Josh in, you ran to work. América greeted you with a look of exasperation, muttering something like, “You’re impossible.”

And during your lunch break, you scrolled through apartment listings, but none were within your budget—not with you and Josh living together now. You huffed in frustration. Josh. You needed to find him a job. And then, an idea struck you.

Someone.

You reached into your bag, fingers searching frantically for a solution, until they found the card. Black, with elegant silver lettering. It looked almost out of place among your simple belongings. You hesitated for a moment but knew you had no other choice.

Dialing the numbers on your phone, you heard the line ring only twice before a familiar voice answered.

“Hey, Rio.”

"Little gem! To what do I owe the honor?” The woman’s cheerful voice made the confusion in your mind dissipate slightly.

“I… I need help.” Your voice cracked. You barely knew the woman, but you didn’t have many options.

The hesitation in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Rio. On the other end of the line, you could hear the smile forming.

“Of course you do,” Rio replied, with an almost irritating certainty. Her voice was sweeter than usual, but with an underlying firmness that made your nerves dance. “Tell me what’s going on, little gem.”

You took a deep breath, trying to organize your thoughts. The headache was still throbbing, and the pressure of the situation made your throat feel even tighter.

“It’s…” Your voice trembled with shame, “I’d rather say it in person, if possible.”

Rio let out a small chuckle, as if savoring each of your words.

“Oh, you want to see me?” The teasing in her voice was clear. “That makes me curious, little gem.”

You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Can we meet today?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. When Rio spoke again, her voice was lower, more enticing.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll send you the address. Come alone.”

The call ended before you could respond.

You stared at your phone for a few seconds, your heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

There was something about the way Rio spoke that made you feel like you were falling into a carefully woven web… and the worst part was that maybe you didn’t want to escape.

Minutes later, your phone vibrated with a message from Rio.

Urth Caffé. 7 PM. Don’t be late, little gem.

You frowned as you read the name. Urth Caffé was one of the most sophisticated and exclusive cafés in Los Angeles, the kind of place where you needed a reservation just to breathe near the entrance.

For a moment, you wondered if it was some sort of test. Or if Rio just wanted to make clear the difference between the worlds you two lived in.

But that didn’t matter now.

You put your phone away and tried to focus on work, but it was impossible. Your stomach was tied in knots. It was a mix of the meeting with Rio and the uncertainty of the future that made you restless.

Hours later, as your shift was about to end, the worst happened.

The café was busier than usual, the noise of espresso machines and the buzz of conversations blending into a constant hum. You picked up a full tray—three hot coffees, two slices of pie, and a glass of juice—and turned to take it to table 12.

Your body froze.

For a moment, you felt a presence. Something cold, like invisible fingers brushing the back of your neck. Your vision blurred, and it was as if the world around you had folded in on itself.

The tray slipped from your fingers.

Time slowed down. You saw the coffee flying through the air, the cups spinning as if suspended in zero gravity. The sound of glass shattering on the floor echoed through the café, followed by absolute silence.

The hot liquid spread across the floor and, worse, splashed onto the expensive pants of a man sitting near the accident.

He cursed loudly, standing up suddenly.

The blood drained from your face. You couldn’t understand what had just happened. Your grip on the tray had been firm. You were sure of it. But something… something had pulled it from your hand.

Before you could react, a shadow loomed over you.

"You’ve got to be kidding me!"

The tone of disdain was like a slap.

Your boss approached with heavy steps, his eyes full of fury. The entire café was watching.

"You already did me the favor of arriving late, and now this?" His voice cut like a razor. "Are you really this incompetent?"

"I… I don’t know what happened…" Your voice came out shaky. You tried to crouch down to clean up the mess, but he gestured sharply for you to stop.

"You don’t know?!" He laughed, a cruel and impatient sound. "You’re a walking disaster! I should have fired you weeks ago!"

Your face burned. You felt everyone’s eyes on you—some filled with pity, others just entertained by the humiliating spectacle.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly. The cold sensation on your neck was still there. You wanted to turn around, to look for something—someone. But there was no one.

"Leave your apron at the counter. You’re fired."

The words cracked like a whip.

You blinked. For a moment, you thought you had misheard. But then, América, who was behind the counter, widened her eyes and stepped forward.

"Mr. Howard, don’t you think that’s an overreaction? It was just an accident…"

"I don’t pay for incompetence, América." He turned to you again. "Out. Now."

Your fingers trembled as you untied your apron. You felt your eyes welling up, but you didn’t want to cry there. Not in front of everyone.

You placed the folded fabric on the counter, grabbed your bag, and left without looking back.

The air outside felt heavy, as if the whole city was about to swallow you.

The phone vibrating in your hand was the only sound that managed to pull you back to reality.

A new message.

I hope you have a good excuse for your delay, my dear.

Shit.

Maybe you needed to apply for two jobs now.

Urth Caffé was the kind of place where every detail screamed exclusivity. From the delicate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling to the tiny porcelain cups holding absurdly expensive coffee. You had never stepped into a place like this before. Never felt the weight of so many expectations pressing down on you.

And at that moment, you felt the weight of Rio Vidal’s gaze, piercing into you like a sharp blade.

She was leaning against a white leather armchair, her fingers tapping lightly on the armrest as if keeping time with her own impatience. The moss-green tailored suit she wore had a deep V neckline that dipped into the valley of her breasts, making her presence seem even larger in the room. You swallowed hard, feeling the urge to lean in just a little closer to get a better look.

Her light brown eyes scanned you from head to toe, stopping at your hands, still marked by the red of shame.

"Almost an hour late, little gem," she said, her voice as soft as the edge of a scalpel. "And I hate waiting."

The words were simple, but they carried a crushing weight.

You averted your gaze, looking down at the table. You noticed a cup of black coffee sitting in front of her. A fine piece of white porcelain with golden details. The dark liquid, with no trace of milk or sugar, looked almost like a stain against the cup’s purity.

Bitter.

Your stomach twisted. You opened your mouth to speak, but your tongue felt tied. Rio wasn’t like your boss. She didn’t yell, didn’t make a scene. But her pressure was much worse.

You swallowed hard.

"I’m sorry. I…"

The words failed before they could even leave your lips. Your heart pounded. Rio arched an eyebrow, her impatience evident.

"I got fired." Your voice came out softer than you intended.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she said nothing. She just gestured with a slight tilt of her head for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, trying not to break down.

"I just… I don’t know what happened. I just dropped the tray. Like—" You stopped, shaking your head, pushing the thought away. "It doesn’t matter. He fired me on the spot."

Rio let out a small chuckle, followed by a scoff.

She leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, her woody perfume wrapping around you like a trap.

"And you think the universe conspires against you, darling? That hidden forces knocked over your tray?" she said, clearly mocking your attempt to justify yourself.

You clenched your fingers against the fabric of your skirt, averting your gaze from hers. "I don’t know what happened," you repeated, more to yourself than to Rio.

And you sank further into the cushioned seat, feeling your cheeks burn with pure embarrassment. You hadn’t thought that... But things had happened in such a... strange way. So out of your control.

She let out a slow sigh, as if enjoying your confusion. The corner of her mouth curled into a lopsided smile, but her eyes were sharp, analyzing every little reaction of yours.

"So you need a job."

You nodded, feeling your face burn. "Actually… I need two."

"Two?" She tilted her head slightly. "And why do you think I would give you a job, let alone two, to a clumsy little girl?"

Her smile widened. Her eyes gleamed with an interest that made you shrink into the seat.

Your stomach twisted at the way she said that. As if she had already decided you were nothing more than a child stumbling through the world.

Rio leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand, studying you like a predator sizing up its prey.

You clenched your fists in your lap, trying to steady yourself.

"Because I’m dedicated." You spoke, your voice firmer now. "I learn fast. I’m not stupid."

"Oh. Of course you’re not," if Rio had seemed annoyed before, now she looked at you with her usual bright, playful eyes. "You’re a smart girl, aren’t you?" She took a sip of her coffee, but the shadow of her smile was still there.

Your jaw tightened at the thought of her mocking you, treating you as inferior—as a child.

"Don’t pout." She warned, startling you. You really had no control over your expressions. "Come on, say it to me."

Heat crept up your neck, burning your skin. You felt your fingers tighten against the fabric of your skirt again, a reflex of the tension taking over your body.

It was a game.

Everything was always a game with her.

But then, why did you feel so suffocated? So trapped in this web that Rio seemed to weave around you with such patience?

"I—" Your voice failed, and Rio raised an eyebrow, waiting. You hated how much she seemed to enjoy your discomfort.

Your pride screamed at you not to say it. To stand your ground. But at the same time, there was something in the way she looked at you… in the weight of that moment… that made you feel that if you didn’t give in, she would simply lose interest.

And the worst part… you didn’t want her to lose interest.

You needed her.

"I am," you finally murmured, almost in a whisper.

"Louder," Rio said, stirring the spoon in her cup absentmindedly. Her tone was lazy, but her eyes… her eyes were sharp.

Your cheeks burned. You hated yourself for giving in. "I’m a smart girl."

Rio’s smile spread fully now, satisfied.

"Good girl," she praised, and your stomach twisted again, an uncomfortable mix of shame and… something else. Something you didn’t want to admit even to yourself. "That was very convincing." She ran her fingers along the rim of her cup before finally asking, "And why two jobs?"

You hesitated. Part of you wanted to lie. Say anything but the truth. But you knew Rio would notice.

"I have a brother." Your voice came out softer. "He needs me."

Then, as if the moment had never happened, she relaxed in her seat and crossed her legs. "Interesting."

Rio’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

For an instant, just one, her expression seemed to soften. But it was so quick you almost thought you imagined it.

She picked up her cup and took a sip, keeping her gaze locked on yours the entire time. Then, finally, she raised an eyebrow, a small amused smile playing on her lips.

The silence that settled between you seemed to compress the air around you. You felt the tension vibrating in every cell of your body, as if you were about to make a mistake that could cost you dearly.

Rio twirled the cup between her fingers, studying you with an expression that revealed absolutely nothing. Then, with that exact calmness that made you want to shrink, she tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Your brother."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"I want to meet him." She said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "If I’m going to give you a job, it’s only fair that I know who I’m investing in."

Your hands clenched over the fabric of your pants.

"S-seriously?" You asked, surprised.

Then your mind went to Josh. His face bruised in shades of purple, green, and yellow. You would have thought this would take a bit longer, enough time for Josh to recover his health and his pride.

The woman seemed to ignore your stupid question.

"Tomorrow. At the gallery. Six in the morning." Her authoritative voice fired off commands, making your head spin.

"Is this… is this really necessary?" Your voice came out more hesitant than it should have.

Rio raised an eyebrow, and you immediately knew the question was a mistake.

"I never do anything without a reason, little gem." The way she dragged out the words sounded like a veiled warning. "If you want my help, you shouldn’t question it."

Your stomach twisted. You wanted to refuse. Say that this was unnecessary, that your brother didn’t need to be involved in this. But you needed the job. Needed it desperately.

"Now, as for you…" She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "You still need to prove to me that your hands can stay out of trouble."

Your chest tightened.

"I can do anything." You tried to sound firm. "I learn fast."

Rio let out a low chuckle. The sound made your skin prickle.

"Learning fast doesn’t mean actually being useful," she leaned forward, her presence filling the space between you. The woody perfume mixed with the faint aroma of coffee felt more intense, as if the air around had thickened. "And I don’t have time to train you."

"Then test me." The words slipped out before you could think. You hated the pleading tone in your voice, but it was too late.

Rio stopped. Her eyes widened for a brief second before her pupils dilated, swallowing almost all the golden honey. Her mouth slightly open, as if she was about to speak, but no sound came. Just a subtle movement of her throat as she swallowed dryly. The tip of her tongue moistening her lips, the previously relaxed hand now resting on the table with fingers tensed.

"Test you?" Her voice came out rougher than before, scraping through the silence between you. Her jaw tightened, as if she was holding something back. You nodded, feeling your own chest rise and fall faster than you would have liked.

You nodded, swallowing hard.

She stayed silent for a moment, just watching you. Then, she smiled again.

"Great." She replied, her voice slightly husky.

Your stomach twisted.

She stood up, without saying goodbye, without looking back. She just left, leaving behind the unsettling feeling that, somehow, you had already lost this game before it even began.

As you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day, you glanced at the clock, and your heart skipped a beat.

Damn. It was already time for your internship.

You stood up hurriedly, grabbing your bag. You couldn’t be late—not if you truly wanted to impress Agatha. Your legs barely kept up with the urgency of your pace as you headed for the exit. But just as you were about to step through the door, a hesitant voice called out to you.

“Hey... wait a second.”

You turned around and found the waitress watching you with an uncertain look. In her hands, she held a paper bag carefully.

“What’s this?” you asked, frowning.

The girl swallowed hard before replying. “Someone asked me to give this to you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You took the bag, feeling the light weight of its contents and the lingering warmth of something freshly baked. With trembling fingers, you peeled the paper back slightly and found a meticulous selection of snacks—iced coffee, a dense brownie, a cinnamon roll, and a cheese croissant.

But it was the note that made your chest tighten.

You felt your throat go dry.

“A hard day, isn’t it?

Eat, little one.”

It was almost impossible to reconcile the pieces of who Rio Vidal was. The woman who made you feel small, fragile, always pressing you against the wall… and the same woman who made sure you ate after an exhausting day.

Was it a game? You didn’t understand. She pulled you in and pushed you away, confused you and ensnared you until there was no clear line between where your resistance began and where your surrender ended.

Your stomach twisted at the duality of the gesture. How a simple note and a few carefully chosen snacks had the power to warm your chest with something dangerous.

You swallowed hard and clutched the bag against your chest before stepping out the door, feeling, once again, trapped in the web Rio was carefully weaving around you.

By the time you arrived at your internship at the studio, exhaustion seemed to weigh down every cell in your body. Silent tears slipped down your face as you desperately tried to maintain a neutral facade. The weight of the day was truly crashing down on your shoulders, and you didn’t want to hold it in anymore.

Your superiors’ words passed over you like a distant breeze—you heard them, but you didn’t absorb them. You only responded when necessary, moving like a broken puppet, soulless.

Following orders, delivering documents seemed like a mundane task, but when the door opened for you, the air shifted. It was heavy, almost electric, and your eyes were immediately drawn to the unmistakable gleam of Agatha’s blue eyes. They stared at you, glowing in the dim light like two enchanted sapphires.

Agatha’s trailer was a world of its own. The soft, diffused light came from Himalayan salt lamps, creating a warm and inviting aura that contrasted with the coldness of the studio outside. The scent of sandalwood incense floated in the air, mingling with her woody perfume, which seemed to seep into every fiber of your being. Your legs wobbled as you stepped inside, as if the very space was conspiring to make you more vulnerable.

Agatha was seated on a burgundy velvet chaise lounge, her blue eyes gleaming like beacons in the dark. She watched you enter, her lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Honey,” she said, her voice so soft it felt like a physical touch. “You look… exhausted.”

You tried to maintain composure, but your hands trembled as you held the documents.

“Here are the papers you requested,” you murmured, extending them to her with a voice that barely concealed your fragility.

Agatha didn’t take the documents immediately. Instead, her gaze traveled over your face, as if reading every line of exhaustion, every shadow of despair.

“Sit,” she ordered, with a gentleness that left no room for refusal. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

You hesitated, but your feet seemed to move on their own, carrying you to the chaise lounge. As you sat, the weight of the day finally crashed down on you, and you felt the burn of tears behind your eyelids.

“Sorry,” you whispered, staring down at your hands in your lap. “It’s just… it’s been a rough day.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Agatha’s voice was a low, soothing whisper, like the sound of a gently flowing river. It was warm, almost intoxicating, and you felt your shoulders relax against your will. It was dangerous, but it felt so good you couldn’t resist.

She rose with the elegance of a predator who knew exactly how to hypnotize its prey. Slowly, she approached you, her movements carrying a deliberate grace.

“Come here,” she said, gesturing to the chaise. When you hesitated, she kept moving closer until her hands found the top of your head. The touch was gentle, yet carried a weight that made your mind go blank for a moment.

“What’s been happening, huh?” Her voice was strangely maternal, filled with a sweetness that seemed impossible for someone so calculated.

Your already weakened defenses crumbled. The tears began to fall uncontrollably, and you felt your face heat up.

“I… everything is going wrong,” you began, your voice breaking with sobs. “My parents… they hate me. The difference is that my mother was brave enough to abandon me for good. My boss… he… he humiliated me and then fired me.” Your voice wavered, choking up. “I have no friends, no one. I’m so tired of this pressure. Working, studying, being good… it’s so—so impossible.”

Agatha gently pulled you into an embrace. You didn’t resist, letting your limp body collapse into her arms. Your face was buried against her clothed chest, and her floral perfume seemed to embrace you along with her. The warmth of her body was so comforting that, for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared.

“Poor baby…” Her voice was a soothing whisper, but it held something deeper. “No mother to comfort you.”

The way she spoke made you feel small, protected, like you had finally found a safe place. But there was something hypnotic in her voice, something that made your mind waver and your body relax more than it should.

You melted into that touch, into that warmth, unable to notice the satisfaction hiding behind Agatha’s mask of compassion. She watched you with keen eyes, analyzing every detail of your vulnerability. The smile that formed on her lips was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

The kiss on the top of your head was the last thing you felt before everything faded into a warm, comfortable haze. The exhaustion that seemed rooted in every cell of your body finally relented, and the world around you ceased to exist.

When you opened your eyes, it was like being transported into a movie scene. The room you were in was massive, with large windows that allowed sunlight to stream in, reflecting off the dark wooden furniture and the golden details that adorned the space. The curtains, made of a fabric that looked more expensive than your entire bank account, were pulled to the side, revealing a perfectly lit garden.

The soft scent of lavender lingered in the air, probably coming from the sheets of the bed you had slept in. A crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, shining as if each piece were cleaned individually every day. For a moment, you just sat there, trying to understand where you were.

“Good evening, sweetie.”

Agatha’s voice echoed behind you, calm yet full of presence. When you turned around, there she was, impeccable as always, a slight smile on her lips. There was something comforting in her tone, but also something that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Where… where are we?” Your voice sounded hesitant, with a touch of confusion still evident.

“At my house. Pacific Palisades, to be exact,” Agatha answered casually, gesturing toward the window with an elegant motion. “Don’t worry, it’s a very peaceful neighborhood.”

Pacific Palisades. You knew it was one of the most exclusive areas in California. Knowing that only made the situation feel even more surreal. The idea of being there, surrounded by so much luxury, was almost suffocating.

“But… what happened? Why can’t I remember anything?”

Agatha walked toward you, the sound of her heels barely audible against the wooden floor. She stopped a few steps away, hands neatly folded in front of her. “You were unwell. Very unwell,” she explained, her tone firm yet carrying an unexpected gentleness. “You had no one to take care of you, so Rio and I decided to help. It was necessary.”

You frowned. Her words were direct, yet they left something unspoken, a gap you couldn’t quite fill. “But what about Lucky? And my plants? My brother…”

Agatha tilted her head slightly, her sharp eyes assessing every nuance of your reaction. “Rio is taking care of everything. She went to fetch your belongings. As for your brother… He’s an adult. I’m sure he can handle himself.”

“But—”

“Darling,” she interrupted, her voice low, almost soothing. “You need to rest. You were exhausted, and frankly, it was beginning to take its toll.”

Despite her calm tone, something in the way she spoke made you feel like you were being controlled without even realizing it. You stood up, restless, walking to the window. Outside, the perfectly manicured garden seemed like an extension of the suffocating perfection of the house.

“That still doesn’t explain…” you began, turning to face her.

“There’s no need to explain everything right now,” Agatha replied, smiling again. She gestured casually toward the door. “Why don’t we leave these worries for later? Dinner is ready.”

Reluctantly, you followed her out of the room. The staircase you descended together felt endless, each step echoing in the impeccably silent house. When you reached the dining room, the setting was just as luxurious as the bedroom. A small army of staff moved around, carrying trays and adjusting the table’s details as if preparing for a formal event.

“Why are there so many people here?” you asked, frowning as you watched the staff work with near-military precision.

Agatha smiled, and this time, there was a hint of amusement in her expression. “Just the staff, honey. Nothing unusual.”

With a simple gesture, she dismissed them all, and they left in silence, without question. The room suddenly felt empty, and somehow, even more oppressive.

“Doesn’t that seem… I don’t know… unprofessional?” you asked nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Agatha let out a soft chuckle, the sound echoing through the space. “Perhaps it is. But you’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

You tried to think of something to say, but the words caught in your throat. There was something in her gaze, something in the way she moved the pieces around her, that was both reassuring and unsettling.

“Now, sit down,” she instructed, pulling a chair for you with an almost ceremonial gesture. “You need to eat.”

You hesitantly sat, feeling like a misplaced piece on a board you didn’t yet understand. As Agatha moved with her usual grace around the room, the persistent feeling that something was off continued to gnaw at you.

Before you could respond, the door opened again, and Rio entered, carrying a large box filled with your plants and a cage with Lucky inside, already meowing in protest. She smirked slightly, as if she had just solved the world’s biggest problem.

“Brought everything,” Rio announced, placing the cage on the floor and setting the plants carefully on a nearby table. Lucky immediately jumped out, inspecting the new environment as if he owned the place.

“See?” Agatha said, her tone almost maternal. “Everything’s taken care of. You don’t have to worry about anything now.”

Rio smiled at the sight of the two of you and went straight to Agatha, leaning in to kiss her deeply, unreservedly. The kiss was intimate and possessive, the kind of display that made their bond unmistakable. You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks, quickly looking away as if you were intruding on a private moment.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Rio pulled away, smirking as she noticed your reaction. Before stepping back completely, she pinched your cheek between her fingers. “Hello, little girl,” she murmured, amusement flickering in her eyes as she watched your flustered expression.

Rio stepped away, sitting next to Agatha. The filet au poivre on your plate was tender, the sauce rich and peppery. But you noticed that both women were drinking wine, while you had a glass of orange juice.

That made you furrow your brows. Your age allowed you to drink legally—so why weren’t you having wine too? Your thoughts were interrupted by a sound from Rio.

“So, how are classes going?” she asked after taking a sip of the crimson liquid. Rio seemed genuinely interested.

You swallowed your food slowly, feeling the weight of their gazes as you processed her question. Something about her tone, combined with the way you were being treated, sent a chill down your spine.

“Classes… are fine,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but there was hesitation in your voice. The orange juice in your hand felt like an almost childish contrast to the elegant wine they were drinking.

Agatha arched an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on her lips as she rested her chin on her hand. “Just ‘fine’? That doesn’t sound very convincing, little gem. Don’t tell me you’re letting your grades slip.”

You looked at her, slightly confused by the almost scolding tone. “No… My grades are good. It’s just that… things have been a bit intense lately.”

Rio let out a low chuckle, leaning forward as she twirled her wine glass between her fingers. “Well, that’s part of adult life, little girl. But you seem to be handling it well. Right, Agatha?”

“Hmm,” Agatha hummed, her eyes fixed on you in a way that made your stomach twist. “She has potential, but perhaps she needs a bit more… guidance.” The woman murmured, sipping more of the intoxicating liquid as she turned her body to face you. “Have you considered that maybe you’re taking on more than you can handle alone?”

“I can handle my own life.” You retorted, feeling a slight discomfort in the way her words echoed in the room. The sensation of being diminished, as if you were inexperienced or incapable, was starting to irritate you.

"Of course you can, darling," Agatha replied softly, but there was something in her tone that made it sound like she was merely humoring you, as one would with a stubborn child. "But that doesn't mean you couldn't benefit from a little help every now and then."

Rio chuckled, raising her glass toward Agatha as if toasting silently. "She’s got a point, you know. Everyone needs someone to hold their hand sometimes. And frankly, you seem to need it more than you realize."

"I'm not a child." You protested, feeling your cheeks burn.

Agatha tilted her head, an indulgent smile on her lips, a softness that seemed to contrast with the weight of her presence. She reached out and brushed away an invisible crumb from your cheek. "Oh, aren’t you?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the condescending and challenging tone of Agatha bubbling in your stomach. Rio interrupted your intense stare-down. "Agatha, darling…" she murmured calmly.

Rio had been silently observing, but there was something in her gaze that unsettled you, as if she was waiting for a reaction from you, something only she seemed to understand.

"So," Rio said after a few minutes of silence, resting her chin on her hand as she watched you with curiosity. "What's the story behind all this? You, alone, taking care of a cat and an army of plants… sounds like the life of a busy single mother for someone so young."

The tension in the air began to dissipate slightly with Rio's more relaxed tone—she seemed to know exactly when to step in. Her question had a touch of genuine curiosity, different from Agatha’s provocative tone.

You let out a sigh, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks and the feeling of being studied like a specimen. "Yeah, maybe I am a single mother… But I like my plants. And Lucky… well, he’s a little grumpy, but it’s nice to have someone waiting for me at home."

Rio tilted her head, her lopsided smile softening the atmosphere even more. "Grumpy… Sounds like he matches someone here, doesn’t he?" she teased, winking as she took another sip of wine, glancing at Agatha.

The remark pulled an involuntary smile from you, though you still felt uneasy about what had happened before. "He’s very selective with people. He doesn’t trust just anyone."

"Cats… always with high standards," Rio replied, laughing quietly.

Agatha looked at Rio, and something unspoken passed between them, as if they had an entire conversation just through their eyes. Then, Agatha leaned back in her chair, her smile now less sharp. "I suppose he’s happy with the choices he makes."

You weren’t sure if that was a compliment or another provocation, but before you could respond, Rio changed the subject again.

"Well, you seem to manage just fine on your own," Rio continued, her tone now almost warm. "But it must be nice to have a little help every now and then. Lucky is good company, but he’s not going to cook dinner for you, is he, darling?"

You let out a short laugh, relaxing a little more. "Definitely not. In fact, he’s a professional mug-knocker."

Rio burst into laughter, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "I like him more by the second. Maybe we should keep him around for a while. I bet he’d love to explore the chaos." She murmured with intention, though you seemed not to notice.

"Chaos?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"With Agatha around?" Rio replied, winking at you conspiratorially. "There’s always a bit of chaos. The controlled kind, of course, but chaos nonetheless."

Agatha feigned offense, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. "Chaos? I prefer order," she corrected, though her voice held a trace of amusement.

"Order on your own terms, isn’t that right, my lady?" Rio teased, raising her glass as if toasting again.

You chuckled, feeling the atmosphere finally lighten. Lucky, now settled near the plants, let out a low meow, as if confirming his presence in the space.

Rio leaned in, resting her chin on her hand again, this time looking at you with something more genuine in her eyes. "I think Lucky already feels at home."

You hesitated for a moment, but something in her tone made you relax a little more. "I think… yeah."

Agatha smiled slightly but remained silent, watching as Rio continued to smooth out the edges of that strange evening. The balance of power still lingered in the air, but for now, it felt like you could breathe again.

Agatha’s chin lifted slightly, and a satisfied smile curled on her lips as she gestured for you to follow her. "Come, darling. We have something to show you."

They led you to a nearby room, which looked like a dream materialized. It was spacious, with a large window that let in the perfect amount of sunlight. Your plants were already carefully arranged on shelves, and Lucky had seemingly already claimed the space as his own.

"It’s the guest room," Agatha said, a glint in her eyes. "I thought it would be perfect for you."

You stood still for a moment, taking in the room and feeling a whirlwind of emotions. The fear and distrust were still there, but the sight of the space—so inviting and warm—along with the relief of seeing Lucky safe, started to weaken them.

Rio and Agatha exchanged a discreet glance, their smiles carrying a silent triumph. You didn’t realize how carefully you were being drawn in, but they knew exactly what they were doing.

You remained there for a moment, watching the room as Lucky curled up on the bed as if he had found paradise. But there was something more in the air. Something that made your skin tingle slightly, like an invisible energy pulsing around you. It was strange, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

"Why are you doing this for me?" you finally broke the silence, your voice hesitant, filled with genuine confusion. "I mean… I barely know you."

Agatha crossed her arms, her gaze firm and assessing as she answered with almost disarming simplicity, "Because you needed it."

Rio, on the other hand, let out a quiet laugh, stepping closer to sit at the edge of the bed. "Do you really need more explanation than that, sweetheart? You were alone, exhausted, crying… We couldn’t just leave you like that."

You swallowed hard, still uncertain. "But… this all seems too much. I don’t even know how I’m going to thank—"

Agatha cut you off, her voice sharp yet controlled. "In time, you will know how to repay it."

There was something in her tone that made it sound more like an order than a suggestion. You averted your gaze, nervously fidgeting with your fingers. "You both came into my life so suddenly… It’s strange. Why me?"

Rio stood up, walking towards you with a smile that was both warm and disarming. "Because, darling, some people get lucky. And apparently, today was your day." She tilted her head, as if studying your reaction.

"I do just fine on my own," you retorted stubbornly, your voice carrying a resistance that made the tension in the air spike again.

Agatha closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if searching for patience. When she opened them, there was a determined glint in them. "You think you do. But you’re far too young to understand just how much you need someone to guide you."

"I don’t need anyone to guide me!" you snapped, your voice louder than you intended. Lucky, lying among the sheets, lifted his head at the sound, watching intently.

Rio chuckled softly, trying to ease the weight of the exchange. She leaned forward, threatening to come closer. "You’ve got fire, little girl, that’s clear. But you know…" She paused, glancing briefly at Agatha before looking back at you. "There’s nothing wrong with accepting a little care. You don’t always have to fight, you understand?"

Your throat went dry, but you held your ground. "I don’t need that," you muttered, but the words sounded weak even to yourself.

Agatha narrowed her eyes, her expression hardening with a patience that seemed about to snap. "Oh, of course," she said in a sweet, almost sickening tone as she stood from her chair, walking slowly around you. "You don’t need it. After all, you’re doing so well on your own, aren’t you? No job, a failure of a brother, and a father draining you dry. You look absolutely fantastic!" she concluded sarcastically.

You straightened in your chair, feeling each of her words like a small blow. "I… I do my best," you shot back, trying not to sound defensive, but her sharp tone made your confidence waver.

"Your best…" Agatha repeated, almost mocking, as she turned to face you again. Her eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "And how’s that working out for you? Oh, wait…" She gestured dramatically with her hand, a sarcastic smile on her lips. "You were alone, exhausted, crying like a lost child—but sure, you don’t need anyone. You don’t need us."

"Agatha," Rio intervened softly, her voice calm but with a hint of warning. She reached out, touching her wife’s arm, but Agatha didn’t back down.

"No, Rio," she replied, her voice still sugary but laced with frustration. "If she insists she can handle everything alone, who are we to say otherwise? Maybe she enjoys drowning by herself."

You felt your face burn, Agatha’s words hitting deeper than you wanted to admit. They didn’t understand. You had acted like an adult your entire childhood and teenage years—and now, two women you barely knew expected you to relinquish control over your life.

"I never asked for anything from you," you said, your voice coming out firmer than you expected.

"You didn’t ask," Agatha countered, leaning slightly forward. "But you accepted. And that’s the problem, darling. You don’t know what’s best for you, yet you insist on acting as if you do."

A heavy silence hung in the air as her words lingered, and for a moment, you felt small under her gaze.

Rio let out a quiet sigh, but you noticed the brief glance she gave Agatha—something like a silent warning. She leaned toward you, a soft smile appearing on her lips. "Listen," she began, her voice a balm after Agatha’s cutting tone. "It’s not about being right or wrong. We just… want to help you, you understand? This isn’t a battle. It’s just… care. And maybe you need it more than you’re willing to admit."

You hesitated, Rio’s words almost reaching a part of you that still resisted. But the weight of Agatha’s gaze remained—fierce and piercing.

"I don’t…" you started, but your voice faltered.

"Don’t want help?" Agatha finished for you, crossing her arms. "Or don’t want to admit that you need it?"

Her tone was relentless, and for the first time, you felt your walls begin to crack. It wasn’t just exhaustion; it was something deeper, a part of you that wanted to allow trust, even against your will.

The energy in the room seemed to thicken, and that tingling sensation returned to your skin. It was as if both women exuded a magnetic presence you couldn’t understand—but it made you curious.

"You two are so… different," you murmured, observing them. "Like, the way you talk, act… It doesn’t seem like you—"

"Match?" Rio finished, laughing softly. "Yeah, a lot of people think that. But we work, you know? Like two pieces of a puzzle."

Agatha didn’t laugh, but a small smile tugged at her lips, as if she silently agreed. "Different, yes. But complementary. That’s what matters."

You hesitated, trying to absorb it all. "And now? You want me to stay here?"

Rio slipped her hands into her pockets and leaned slightly toward you, her eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite place. "We want you to rest, to breathe. One step at a time, sweetheart."

Agatha nodded, her posture relaxing. "We’re here to make sure you have what you need. No rush, no pressure."

There was something comforting, almost hypnotic, in their words. But there was also an unease in the back of your mind. You didn’t understand why, but even with all the apparent kindness, the energy radiating from them made you feel small, vulnerable.

"Alright," you replied softly, trying to ignore the invisible weight in the air.

Rio smiled again, a subtle glint of triumph in her eyes. Beside her, Agatha kept her gaze on you, as if measuring every word, every reaction.

The silence that followed was broken by Agatha’s low, satisfied chuckle. When you looked up, you saw the smile that had formed on her face—bright and triumphant, yet still carrying something darker.

"That’s a good girl," she murmured, her voice low and filled with an almost dangerous satisfaction.

The words hit you like a wave of warmth, making your chest tighten in a confusing way.

Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.

Something about the way she said it made you feel… strangely good.

Rio’s soft smile lingered as she leaned back in her chair. "See? It’s not so bad." She said gently, touching your shoulder with an almost protective lightness. "Tomorrow is a new day. You’ll see, things will get better."

They stepped away, leaving you alone in the room. As you sat on the bed, watching Lucky sleep peacefully, you tried to convince yourself that this was just kindness. Just good people appearing at the right moment.

[...]

The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room, casting shadows on the walls decorated in deep shades of blue and gray. The space was luxurious, but there was something intimidating about the way every detail seemed meticulously calculated.

Agatha sat on the right edge of the bed, her posture erect as if authority itself rested in the way she carried herself. She was underlining notes on the script for the new feature film, the precise movements of her pen accompanied by the contemplative glint in her eyes. There was something almost ritualistic about the way she worked, as if each correction was a crucial piece in a puzzle.

Rio, on the other hand, seemed to belong to another world. Leaning casually against the edge of the bed, her legs crossed in an effortless manner, she slid her fingers across the iPad screen with a serenity that contrasted with Agatha’s intensity. But beneath her apparent calmness, there was an undeniable firmness, a silent vigilance.

“She accepted,” Agatha remarked, her voice low and measured, but not devoid of pride. “One way or another, she accepted.”

Rio smiled, one of those smiles that could be either affectionate or a warning. “Oh, my love, she’s tough. She grew up carrying the weight of the world, but deep down...” She lifted her gaze from the iPad. “She’s still just a girl.”

Agatha tilted her head slightly, humming in agreement. “And the brother?” Her voice remained unhurried, but her eyes betrayed genuine interest in the answer. “Did you make sure he won’t be a problem?”

Rio closed the iPad with a sharp click, placing it on the mattress. “He’s not a threat. Just a frustrated man trying to rebuild himself.” There was a calculated lightness in her tone, something reassuring yet dangerously final. “The interview is tomorrow. Everything is under control.”

Agatha glanced up from the script just enough to look at her over her glasses, measuring her words. “Be careful.” Her voice was low, deliberate. “They can’t think she’s getting any kind of special treatment.”

Rio let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for that, director?” Her eyebrow arched in provocation. “Little Gem is sleeping in the room next door.”

Agatha sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “That doesn’t mean we should make things easy for those vultures.” Her voice tensed at the thought of greedy journalists. “She needs to learn to fight for herself. If we treat her like a princess, she’ll never grow.”

Rio leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that made Agatha hesitate for a moment. “She already fights, Agatha. Every day. You saw the state she was in today. She’s exhausted, hurt, and yet she’s still here. Isn’t that strength?”

Agatha held Rio’s gaze, but her expression softened slightly. “She is strong, yes. But strength without direction is just wasted potential. We need to guide her, not spoil her.”

Rio smiled, but this time there was genuine sweetness in her eyes. “And what if I want to spoil her a little? Doesn’t she deserve some kindness?”

Agatha frowned but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she set the script aside and crossed her arms, studying Rio with a look that mixed disapproval and affection. “You’ve always been like this. Intense. Impulsive when it comes to this.”

Rio stood up, walking toward the window. The moonlight illuminated her face, highlighting her striking features and the determination in her gaze. “I’m just saying she needs someone to see her for who she is, not as a project.”

Agatha remained silent for a moment, watching Rio with an expression that was difficult to decipher. “And you think you can be that person?”

Rio turned to face her, lips curving into a smile that was both challenging and tender. “Her favorite person? I already am. And you know it.” She teased.

Agatha sighed again, rolling her eyes, but this time there was amusement in her voice. “Just don’t ruin her, Rio. She’s important to me too.”

Rio walked back to the bed, sitting beside Agatha. Her fingers found Agatha’s, intertwining with the kind of ease that only years of intimacy could create. “I won’t ruin her. I’ll take care of her. In my own way, of course.”

Agatha looked down at their intertwined hands, and for a brief moment, her expression softened. “Your way has always been... intense.”

Rio chuckled, a low, melodic sound. “And you love that.”

Agatha didn’t respond, but the gentle squeeze of her hand was answer enough. She knew Rio was right, but she also knew the path they were on was dangerous.

Rio turned to face her again, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “And you? What did you do?” There was undeniable amusement in Rio’s voice as she looked at Agatha. Her chocolate eyes sparkled, her prominent cheeks alive with emotion. “It happened faster than I expected.”

Vida.

Agatha snapped out of her trance, averting her gaze from her wife’s. “I did what was necessary.” She cleared her throat, trying to shake off the warm and comfortable feeling in her chest.

Agatha’s eyes gleamed with approval. “Well... Either way, she’s going to need it. Our little one still doesn’t understand that she can’t overburden herself.”

Rio chuckled softly, a feeling swirling in her chest. She turned her body to face Agatha directly, locking eyes with her wife’s piercing blue gaze. “She’ll learn. And when she does, she’ll never want to leave.”

Agatha shifted on her side of the bed, a kind of insecurity creeping into her mind.

“Do you think she’s ready for what’s coming next?” Agatha finally asked, her voice unsteady.

“I don’t think so,” Rio admitted, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “But who ever is? What matters is that we found her.”

Agatha smiled slightly, but it was impossible to tell if it was out of tenderness or something darker.

“She’ll understand, my love,” Rio assured her, her voice now softer. “And when she does, she’ll know she has never been so well taken care of.”

Agatha didn’t reply, but the glint in her eyes indicated she was already several steps ahead, calculating, planning.

After all, this wasn’t just about care—it was about control. And that, Agatha knew, was something she did better than anyone.

~*~

I am nothing without my plants and cats, I'm just a lesbian :)

Tag List <3

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@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

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#lgbtq #lgbtqia #wlw post #mommy k!nk #agatha all along #domme mommy #mommys little girl #agatha x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x rio #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #wlw yearning #sapphic #lesbian #lesbianism #wlw

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frost-queen · 6 months ago

Text

Circus lights (Reader x Jeremiah & Jerome ft. Bruce)

Requested by: @chaand-sitara, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22 @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic , @p0nycurtis , @eliscannotdance

Summary: Reader is a sick rich kid that loves to go to the circus. Yet no one wants to befriend her till the Valeska twins do. Yet one faithful day changed their days of fun. Jeremiah was send away and Reader's ilness didn't allow her to come anymore. Angering both the Valeska brothers. Years later you return to Gotham, staying with Bruce till the Valeska's find their way back to you.

The entrance was the jolliest you had ever seen. All bright lights illuminating the darkening skies. Carnaval music and bells ringing from all around the park. With a gleam in your eyes, you couldn’t wait to enter. Holding your ticket very firmly in your hand. The guard that was holding your hand firm, stepped up to the ticket booth. – “Tickets please.” – a young man with a stripey shirt asked.

You curled up a smile, proudly holding your ticket up. He reached his arm out through the small gap, taking your ticket. It got two puncture holes, laying it away. He then gestured for your hand, holding a stamp. You happily showed your hand, watching as it got stamped with a cartoon clown’s face.

The guard tugged on your hand as the young man cleared his throat. – “What?” – the guard asked. The young man looked down at his hand, hinting he needed a stamp as well. – “Must I really?” – the guard asked, looking behind him to his colleagues. Some of them were snickering. – “All visitors must have a stamp.” – the young man made clear. The guard let go of your hand with a loud sigh.

Pulling his sleeve back to receive a stamp. He took your hand with a grunt, pulling you under the archway into the park. The young man whistled the others over with a cheeky smile. Showing his stamper at them. They all groaned, going in line to receive one. Your eyes gleamed even more as you saw younglings around your age run around.

Holding balloons and eating popcorn. – “Alright miss, have fun, we’ll be close.” – the guard spoke, searching his pocket for a round of tickets. He handed them to you. – “When will father be here?” – you asked. – “Later.” – the guard responded, giving you a slight push to set off. You hesitantly went forwards, wondering when your father would join you. He had promised to come along with you to the circus. A promise was a promise. The guard took a few steps back to give you some space.

The sounds of the carnival drawing your attention away as the memory of your father faded to the back. You ran towards a balloon stand as it was the first thing you wanted. Seeing so many kids and younglings walk around with them. You wanted one too to fit in. – “Good evening young lady, interested in a balloon?” – a dashing chap said. He also wore a stripey shirt and matching hat with it. You nodded.

“You’ve come to the right place, we have balloons in all sorts of colours.” – the man said moving all dancey. It made you laugh, finding him funny. – “I want a red one.” – you spoke, going for a classic. You looked over your shoulder to the guard, pointing at the balloon. He came closer, paying the man. Unable to control your excitement, you received your red balloon. – “Have a bouncy day young miss.” – the man waved goodbye, taking his hat off with a wide smile. The guard tied the balloon around your wrist so you wouldn’t lose it.

Turning around, you were looking around for what was next. There were a group of kids your age gathered around. You ran over to it, wanting to see for yourself. – “What are you looking at?” – you asked, getting on the tips of your toes to see. Trying to overlook the older kids of sixteen and older. They wouldn’t move as you needed a new plan.

You bend through your knees, pushing yourself a way through. Elbowing their bodies aside to clear a path to squeeze through. You reached the front, straightening yourself once more. There your eyes widened with delight. A little monkey was jumping around on a cart. The man with it, turning a handle for music to hear.

It easily got boring as you drifted off. Following some other kids, they stopped at a throwing ball booth. You watched as they gave a ticket to the woman behind it. You came to their side to join them. – “Hi.” – you said all cheery in an attempt to make friends. – “Go away.” – the boy called out, pulling an arm around his sister to keep her away from you.

Hurt, you turned around to leave. There were other kids heading for the mirror palace as you followed them. Keeping your distance, but remaining close. One of the girls noticed it, whispering to her friends. They looked back at you as well. – “Hi…” – you said ending with a cough. The girl and her friends nodded before scrambling off. Each running away in a different direction that you couldn’t keep up. Sighing soft, you gave up trying to make friends.

It was clear to you that no one wanted to have you around. You started drifting away from the main path. Sitting on a barrel by one of the tents. Looking saddened down at your hands. The red balloon still up in the air near your head. Wiping your nose, you sniffed loud. A few more coughs came as you didn’t held them in. At this moment you wanted your father to comfort you.

To care for you like your mother did so many years ago. She would always comfort you. Being a sick kid wasn’t the most fun, but she made the most of it. Ever since her passing, it was as if your father couldn’t handle it. Distancing himself from you and using his guards to ‘parent’ you around.

“The fun is that way.” – you heard a boy’s voice say. It made you gasp loud, looking up. A shy boy with glasses stood before you. Slowly pushing his glasses further up his nose. – “I know…” – you replied with a soft sigh. The boy looked around for any of your parents. – “Are you here alone?” – he asked. – “You can say that.” – you responded. – “Jeremiah!” – another boy’s voice came through.

You got startled by another boy bumping hard against the other one. The popcorn he was holding, decorating the ground. You watched them, they were very much alike. Brothers. Twins. The one without glasses pulled Jeremiah under his armpit to tease him with a head rub. Jeremiah protested in every way. The moment the other boy noticed you, he stopped.

Jeremiah straightened his clothing as the other one approached you. – “What is a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” – he said trying to sound more mature than he was. It made you laugh. – “Jerome.” – he introduced himself, holding his hand out. – “Y/n.” – you answered shaking it. – “I’m Jeremiah.” – the other one pitched in, wanting to be included.

The boys were still waiting for an answer as you sighed soft. – “Nobody wants to play with a sick child like me.” – you told them. – “Are you ill?” – Jeremiah asked concerned. You nervously nodded. – “Nothing contagious, my body isn’t just as strong as others.” – you further informed them. Jerome puffed loud. – “Let them be idiots!” – he scolded at the others not wanting to befriend you.

Jeremiah nodding beside him. Jerome took you by the wrist, pulling you off the barrel. – “Come we’ll show you all the great places.” – before you knew it you were dragged along. Jeremiah following close by. Jerome lead you to one of the larger tents. – “Are… are we even allowed in here?” – you asked as they didn’t go through the main entrance. – “We are.” – Jeremiah told you.

Jerome opened the flap, fitting through with you. Sneaking up closer, he pulled you down behind some of the crates. – “What if someone sees us.” – you whispered to him. Jerome shushed you, taking you by the chin and forcing you to look in a direction.

You gasped loud. Eyes lingering on a cage with sleeping lions in it. – “Are… are they going to perform?” – you asking keeping your voice low. – “Not yet.” – Jeremiah answered setting his hands on your shoulders, hovering over you to have a look for himself. – “They need some more training, but soon they will.” – Jerome informed you. – “I want to be there when they do.” – you spoke with adoration.

Jerome tugged on your wrist once more, leading you out of the tent. Your balloon bouncing in the air with your movement. Outside you rarely thought back of the guards that must be searching the entire circus for you. Let them. The Valeska twins were able to give you free food. They knew all the knacks for winning prices at the booths.

After a while, you started to feel weaker. Worn down from running around from place to place. Yet there was one attraction you needed to do. – “Come Y/n!” – Jeremiah called out. He paused, seeing how you were faltering behind. Needing to use every might to push your feet forwards.

Jeremiah jogged over to you, taking you by your shoulders to prevent you from falling forwards from exhaustion. – “Are you alright Y/n?” – he asked. – “I…I am fine…” – you breathed out with a hard swallow. Coughing as you nearly lost control of your balance. Jeremiah held onto you to prevent it. – “We can stop if you like.” – he offered. You quickly shook your head.

“One more ride.” – you told him with a worn out smile. – “One more ride.” – he whispered back. Jeremiah turned himself around. Offering his back to you. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he set you on his back. With you on his back, he ran a bit to catch up with his brother.

You had laid your head down on his shoulder. Arms dangling over his shoulders. Needing a breather. Jeremiah caught up with Jerome. – “Y/n.” – Jeremiah said making you lift your head up. Dazzling lights flickering in your vision. It made you blink a few times to unblur the lights. Now they were clear. A Ferris wheel standing tall and mighty.

Jerome helped you off his brother’s back. They both helped you onto the Ferris wheel. Sitting each at a side from you. The wheel got in motion, taking you higher and higher. Till you could overlook the entire circus. Making you gasp in delight at how wonderous Gotham was from above. You reached the ground once more.

You just got off when a group of your guards came running over. Panting loud. – “There you are miss.” – one of them said. Someone else spoke into a walkie, letting others know you were found. They noticed how worn out you were. Sweat on your forehead. One of them ran over to you, picking you up.

Jerome and Jeremiah coming after them to stay close to you. – “We’ll get you home soon miss.” – the guard said. – “We staid here too long.” – another one spoke. Jerome started to get angry feeling as if they were blaming them. His brother held him back by his arm to not interfere. – “Take care Y/n.” – Jeremiah called out to you. – “Please come back!” – Jerome shouted.

“I will!” -they heard you respond. Promise made, promise kept. You returned to the circus, more times than ever. Always hanging out with the Valeska brothers as they became close friends of yours. You went as most as you could, till your visits dimmed out.

Unable to get to the circus due to your illness wearing you more and more down. Barely having the strength to take a full lap around the house. Drastic matters had to be made. You weren’t allowed to go out any longer.

“No!” – Jeremiah shouted loud. Being handled by two men. His mother standing by her caravan. Jerome pushed her aside to reach his brother. He tripped, falling to his knees. With tears in his eyes, he watched them drag his brother away. He turned his head, looking with fury at his mother. – “You can’t send him away!” – Jerome called out. His mother wouldn’t care.

“It’s already bad enough I need to feed your mouth too.” – was the only thing she said. - “Mother!” – Jeremiah begged tears streaming down his face. – “I have to stay… I have to… Y/n…” – he said trying to fight off the men, but they were stronger than him. All the struggling made his glasses fall down. One of them men stepped unknowingly on it. – “Tell Y/n I’ll come find her.” – he shouted at his brother.

Their mother made a dismissive gesture. Jeremiah shouted in anger, trying to fight his way out. They shoved Jeremiah in a car. He didn’t leave without kicking and shouting at the door for a way out. The car riding off. Jerome got up, spurting towards the broken glasses of his brother. He picked them up, all muddy.

He blinked curious when he noticed a figure approach him. He recognized him from many visits. One of your guards. – “Is Y/n here?” – was his first response. For almost a year you had been visiting the circus. Perhaps there was some joy to this dreadful day. The man didn’t show any reaction. – “There will be no more visits.” – he let out. Jerome’s happiness was drained.

His hand clenched into a fist. – “You are lying.” – he let out. – “She’s not coming to this stupid circus anymore.” – he reminded him with a clear warning. Jerome became angry, giving the man a hard push. It barely did anything. Angered and heartbroken, he took a run for it. Not only his brother had left, but you as well. Making him wonder what life was good for.

Seasons past as did the years. It felt strange to return to Gotham, but it was home. – “Y/n.” – hearing your name made you turn your head. Bruce entered the room handing you a cup of warm tea. You accepted it, eying the fireplace once more. Bruce came sitting with you with his own cup. You smiled politely back at him. It was very funny actually.

When you younger you didn’t want to hang out with Bruce. Whenever your parents dragged you along to social gatherings, he was there as well. Your parents would nudge you to play with him. Yet with the 3 years apart, at that time you thought he was too young to play with. He seemed like a mere baby in your eyes. Now that you have grown, those feelings have flourished away.

He had offered you to stay with him as you settled back in Gotham. The first thing you did after your return was search for the circus, only to find out it was gone. No sign of Jerome or Jeremiah to be found. Feeling alone, you came knocking on Bruce’s door. Leading to you settling in.

“I’m really pleased you have returned to Gotham and are all well.” – Bruce spoke. You hummed loud in your cup before taking a sip. – “I just wish you didn’t have to leave Gotham for it.” – he continued turning his posture more towards you. You moved your cup down on your lap, turning more to him as well. – “If I staid, I probably wouldn’t have gotten better.” – you responded.

“True.” – Bruce answered placing a hand on your knee. You smiled politely back at him. Bruce removed his hand from your knee. The door rang as it made you quirk your eyebrows up. – “Are you expecting someone?” – you asked him. Bruce shook his head. Bruce knew Alfred would open up to see who it was. Yet when he heard a commotion.

The sound of a person falling over something, made him get up. – “Alfred?” – he said concerned. Moving a bit closer to the door. Bruce held his hand out to you to stay put. He moved closer to the door, standing in front of it. It was deadly silent till a few knocks on the door startled him.

Bruce looked over his shoulder to you. Ushering to you to hide. You set the cup of tea down, getting out of the sofa to crouch out of sight down. Bruce took a deep breath before opening the door. It barely moved as it got pushed open, making Bruce stumble a bit back. – “Brucey!!” – a man’s voice said teasingly. – “What are you doing here?” – Bruce answered with clear disgust.

“Alfred!” – he then shouted. – “Yeah, your butler is taking a nap on the floor.” – the person replied. Bruce glared back at him. – “A little birdy told me Y/n is here.” – hearing your name made you get up. Eyes widening at Jerome. You caught his attention. – “Y/n!” – he said opening his arms to you. Tearing up, you ran over to him.

Jumping into his arms. Jerome wrapped his arms tightly around you, swaying you back and forth in his grip. – “I’m so sorry.” – you cried out. Apologizing for disappearing so suddenly. Not that you had a say in it. The only power you had over them was to deliver the message to the Valeska boy’s.

“There, there.” – Jerome said patting you on your head. It made you laugh between the tears. Bruce cleared his throat, arms crossed. Glass breaking interrupted the moment. It made you and Jerome pull apart. A figure landing through the window. – “Jeremiah!” – you called out in joy. – “So I came to the right place.” – he panted out.

You ran to him, leaping into his arms. Jeremiah lifted you up, holding you tight. Setting your feet back down, he started kissing your cheek. – “Hey!” – Jerome said with jealousy. – “Not even I get a kiss from you brother.” – he laughed out. – “Alright enough!” – Bruce let out.

Jeremiah and you parted, but he kept an arm around you. Not wanting to let you go so easily. – “You can’t just barge in my house!” – Bruce made clear. Jeremiah looked over his shoulder. – “Relax Wayne I’ll pay for your window.” – Jeremiah spoke. Bruce sighed loud, shaking his head. Jerome jumped over the sofa to get closer to you as well.

Jerome took your hand, leading you to the sofa. Each Valeska brother sitting at a side. – “Sure make yourself comfortable.” – Bruce spoke with irritation. – “I couldn’t find the circus when I returned.” – you told them. – “Yeah that ship has sailed a long time ago.” – Jerome informed you.

“Well perhaps I should tell you now than that I am cured.” – you told them. It was something you were dying to tell them ever since you got back. – “That is wonderful Y/n.” – Jeremiah said giving you a kiss on the cheek afterwards. Jerome gave his brother a slight push.

Giving you a kiss on the cheek afterwards as well. – “Are you ever going to leave?” – Bruce wanted to know. – “Brucey, can’t you see the adults are talking.” – Jerome said tauntingly waving him away. It made Bruce scoff. Coming to sit in one of the chairs to keep a close eye on them till Alfred awoke once more.

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