Sweets

Sweets

[Attack On Titan] Modern! Annie Leonhart x G!N Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Proof-Read: No

Content Warnings: None!

[A/N]: Sorry for kinda just...disappearing! I've had a bunch of exams already, and I got overwhelmed. I'm working on different stories/preferences/imagines for all kinds of characters, so bear with me as I try to start writing again! Also, thank you all so much for the support on my first three posts! I was really nervous to post my works on here, but I'm so relieved to know you enjoy them!

I hope you enjoy this as well!

-Okay, so–

-We know Annie has a sweet tooth and absolutely loves sweet foods like pastries

-So, when she comes home one day to the smell of something deliciously sweet, wandering into the kitchen to investigate who could be responsible for her mouth watering and stomach growling, she’s surprised to see you in front of the oven

-She examines you for a moment

-You’re in a apron dusted in flour and sugar, and your hair is tied back to keep it out of your face

-She has always adored seeing you get focused and enthusiastic about your interests, so when she sees your concentrated face as you level off the cakes, she can’t bite back the smile that paints her lips

-You can bake?

-And it actually looks and smells good?

-She falls in love all over again

-After a moment of her staring, you finally notice her

-You turn back with a smile and wave

-”Oh, hi, Annie! You’re just in time! Wanna help me frost and decorate these cakes? I’m making them for Sasha’s birthday.”

-She absentmindedly nods and walks over to you

-She takes a small part of the layer of cake you had cut off to level it, pops it in her mouth, and hums

-Her outward reaction is minimal, but inside she’s ecstatic

-Not only does your cake look and smell good, it tastes incredible too!

-She fails to realize that a cheeky grin crosses her face, so she’s really confused when you chuckle

-”I’m guessing it tastes good?”

-She looks at you in confusion

-You point to your own mouth and then to her

-She finally registers that she’s smiling and blushes, turning her head away to hide herself a bit

-She still nods though

-You smile and turn back to the cakes

-At length, she turns back and watches as you layer the cakes with buttercream

-”What do you need me to do?” She asks

-”Oh. I was gonna see if you could help with the decorating. You’re really good at painting and drawing and stuff, so I feel like it’ll look way better if you decorate it instead.”

-If Annie’s blush wasn’t noticeable before, it certainly was now

-Sure, she’s used to getting compliments, but never on her personal hobbies

-And the fact that compliment came from you? Her favorite person?

-That alone made her heart flip

-”O-Oh, uh…sure.”

-She mentally slaps herself for stuttering

-You nod and finish putting the cakes together

-Once you finish, you wash your hands and dry them before handing her a spare apron

-She puts it on and waits as you gather the materials

-”What exactly is she wanting on the cake?”

-”Oh, she said she wanted something, like…forest-themed? I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that. That’s kinda why I was hoping you’d agree to helping me decorate.”

-You let out a nervous chuckle

-Her expression is dead serious, however, as she puts a finger to her chin, the gears in her head visibly turning

-She takes her art very seriously

-She’s not going to goof around for this

-She grabs a piping bag with green frosting and gets to work

-You watch her for a bit, occasionally asking if there’s anything she needs help with, but she only shakes her head each time, her eyebrows furrowed together as she focuses on keeping her hands steady

-You realize after a moment that she wants to work on this on her own

-Instead of standing around and just watching her, you work your way around her and clean up the mess from everything else

-She’s still working by the time you finish, so you head into the living room and put on a movie

-It’s nearly two hours later when she emerges from the kitchen, small splatters of green and brown icing peppering her face and apron

-”I'm finished if you want to take a look.”

-She seems almost shy as she says this

-As stated before, she takes her art very seriously because it’s a very important personal hobby to her

-She wants you to approve of her work

-Your opinion is very important to her, even if she’s not the best at expressing it

-You smile and walk with her back over to the counter

-Leaning over to get a full view of the cake, your lips part themselves in awe

-You stay silent a little too long as Annie watches anxiously, and she assumes the worst

-”If you hate it, you can just tell me…”

-You turn to her, confused, barely realizing why she seems so upset

-”Oh! No, Annie, I don’t hate it at all! I love it. I-I’m sorry it came across that way. I’ve just…I’ve only seen your art a couple times. It just always blows me away how you know just what to do with the colors and concepts. You truly are incredible at doing what you love.”

-Your words make her heart flutter, yet another layer of blush dusting her cheeks

-She bows her head down to stare at her feet, unsure of how to properly thank you for your compliments

-Finally, she mumbles a soft, “thank you,” before wringing her hands together

-”Do you mind if I take a picture?”

-She shakes her head and takes the time you use to snap a photo to calm herself down

-You both wait for the icing to dry a bit before covering the cake and storing it in the fridge

-As you take your aprons off, Annie taps your shoulder

-You turn to find her blushing yet again and averting her gaze

-”U-Um…If you, uh…If you need help decorating anything next time you bake something, I’m willing to help.”

-You don’t respond, so she finally looks up

-Her blush worsens as she sees you staring at her with a warm smile, your eyes soft and welcoming

-”I think that’s a really good idea, Annie. We could be a little baking team.”

-She rolls her eyes at your slight enthusiasm, but she still smiles at the thought

-Each time you bake something after that, no matter how small, Annie’s always there to decorate it with or for you

-Sometimes you’ll switch things up

-She’ll bake the treat, with plenty of your guidance, and you’ll decorate, with constant suggestions and reassurances

-Holidays are especially fun because she gets really extra with designs and colors

-On Halloween, she’ll decorate your cookies and cupcakes to make them look like creatures such as spiders and roaches

-It always grosses everyone else out at first, but they truly do admire both the taste and the visuals

-Annie starts to get more compliments on her art and even starts to share it publicly

-She creates an Instagram account after plenty of your encouragement and occasionally posts pictures of her sketches, paintings, and always tags you in her posts of what you’ve created together

-Gains a large following rather quickly, and she’ll never admit it out loud, but she’s much happier and more confident in her work

-After a while, she even starts to consider going back to college to finish her Major in Art

Playing Minecraft with Boscha

[Just a few general headcanons on how I think playing Minecraft with Boscha would go if she were ever introduced to it. It's been a while since I've just written preferences instead of a full short story, so I hope it's up to par.]

Enjoy!

-Okay, so–

-At first, when you introduced Boscha to Minecraft, she didn’t really care for it.

-She thought it was just some random game for little kids.

-It wasn’t until you finally convinced her to join your game while you played with Luz, Amity, and Willow that she gave in and decided to see why it was so popular in the human realm.

-After figuring out the controls, she was HOOKED.

-A game where you can control pretty much everything you want? Sign her up!

-She’d definitely prefer to play on creative so she could fly around and not worry about having to constantly type in cheats to get the materials she needs, but she’s not upset about playing on survival either.

-Defintelyyyy loves being one to farm for XP. It gives her the chance to kill enemies in the game and even get creative with it. She LOVES it without a doubt.

-For a while, she didn’t want to play alone. She had been introduced to the game with other friends, meaning she could kind of rely on them to help her gather resources and fight tougher enemies. She started playing on her own, however, upon realizing she could impress you and the others with her newest designs for her skin and builds (which she totally didn’t look up multiple online tutorials for at all).

-After a while, she really started to enjoy just being able to hop online and play with only you.

-It was really fun getting to spend time with you alone on such an intriguing game. She got to vent about her day and absolutely loved being able to crack jokes with you and just laugh and talk until the early hours of the morning when the two of you would finally log off and go to bed.

-Definitely expect her to spam you with requests to join her game whenever she isn’t busy.

-”Boscha, hun, you’ve gotta stop spamming me.”

-”But look at this thing I just found out about! If lightning strikes a creeper, it supercharges it and–”

-Will absolutely find a way into the Nether before she even has any of the gear remotely needed to survive.

-She doesn’t even know how Nether portals work, she was just messing around with lava and water, or somehow stumbled upon an abandoned portal and managed to ignite it.

-Speaking of ignition, you’d better hope she turned “fire spread” off because once she gets her hands on Flint and Steel, she’ll be setting everything ablaze.

-Will 100% go spelunking without any torches or backup pickaxes/shovels, and then complain when she finds out that she has to have a certain kind of tool to mine up diamond ore.

-Will also be the one who tries to take on multiple creepers, skeletons, or even the Enderdragon at once without a proper weapon. “I’ll beat your ass with my bare hands! Or–eh–whatever the hell these square-looking things are…”

-*QueenBoscha was slain by an arrow*

-"No fair! How'd you kill me, you bony bitch?"

-If, for some reason, she can’t play on her own console, she’ll invite herself to your house and either play split-screen with you on yours, or slide up behind you and hold you, resting her head against your shoulder while she watches you play. She’d definitely be interested in watching you play since you’ve played it much longer than her. She can learn different building techniques, ways to get around different terrains without boats and similar transportation, and hey, maybe she’ll actually learn how important it is to cRaFT A TOOL.

-Playing with her is always fun because she’s so quick to act snarky towards the fictional enemies in the game. Sure, she’ll jokingly yell at a zombie if it smacks her, but she gets so defensive if something attacks you.

-Sometimes it seems like she forgets that the game is entirely fictional and you aren’t actually being hurt. After a while of you teasing her about it, she starts to make fun of herself in a way. She’ll use the voice she had when mockingly reading one of the Azura books aloud. “I shall avenge thee!”

-For sure has pink-themed “equipment,” as she calls it. I’m talking pink controllers/keyboard + mouse, pink (probably LED) headphones, pink wrap for the console itself, etc. And not, like, pastel pink. Neon pink or a really bright shade of magenta.

-Her voice actress (Eden Riegel) said she’d absolutely be one to set trends in the human realm, but I think one of the trends she’d follow herself is trying to start a gaming channel.

-She’d definitely expect you to fully support her and even create a channel of your own so you could collaborate on the game.

-Eden also said Boscha’s favorite human snack would be Takis, so I can picture her snacking on those while she’s playing anything online.

-Overall, Boscha would absolutely love playing Minecraft, especially with you, and would kinda grow a little too obsessed with it for a while before moving on to a new game, though she'd always come back to Minecraft if she needed to relax.

Make Up for It

[The Owl House] Boscha x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.01k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Mentions of abandonment.

[A/N]: None!

Enjoy!

A heavy sigh pushed its way through Boscha’s lips, echoing throughout her bedroom as she sat at her vanity, waiting impatiently for her scroll to ping the way she had been expecting it to for over an hour. Three eyes met her reflection in the mirror that sat in front of her. She seemed to search her own gaze and think to herself, wondering if any of this had been a good idea. Ever since the defeat of Belos and the peace brought upon the island by The Collector, the citizens of the Boiling Isles worked together tirelessly to reconstruct their home–both physically and diplomatically.

Boscha had been one of the students at Hexide who worked among others to help rebuild the school. Just recently, they had finally repaired the auditorium where every school event–every pep rally and dance–was held. Principal Bump, after talking it over with multiple teachers, decided to bring Grom Royalty back to tradition, although he made sure more than one student was allowed to fight at a time to ensure there wasn’t a repeat of Grometheus’s near-escape.

Thankfully, Boscha hadn’t been chosen as Grom Royalty. A few random girls from the Beast Keeping Track were selected instead. It was a relief to know she wouldn’t have to face her greatest fear, especially considering how humiliated she would feel if everyone knew just how vulnerable she could get over something so small.

In her mind, she knew it wasn’t necessarily small, but her insecurities festered underneath the surface like the same boiling concoctions Boscha found herself working with almost every day. She felt as though no one would take her seriously if they found out about her worst fear: abandonment.

They’d see me as weak, she’d tell herself, and that was something she couldn’t allow.

Although Grudgby had been put on hold during the repairs, Boscha’s teammates still looked up to her when it came to the sport–amongst other things. As she had told Willow during their confrontation several months prior, everyone else seemed to fall apart the moment the leader was to show any sign of weakness. She wanted her friends to rely on her–to feel as though they could trust her strength.

How could they possibly trust that strength if they knew what broke her? With that information at their disposal, they could shatter her already crumbling reputation at any instant. All she had at that time was her reputation, and she did her best to maintain it.

That included now. As she sat in front of the mirror, gazing absentmindedly at all she had done in the past half hour, she wondered if her plan falling to ruin that evening would dampen her reputation even further. She had gone all out for her date to the dance: she made sure her suit was flawlessly cut and lacking any wrinkles, her perfume was high-dollar, and that her hair was perfect. The usual strands of hair that framed her face remained there, though they had been curled to give a more gentle effect. She styled the rest of her hair to match. Half-up half-down is ultimately what she decided on, and each strand was waved to match her curtain bangs, including the ones that were pinned up on the back of her head.

Everything about her outfit had been meticulously planned. She just hoped it would get the ultimate approval of her peers. More importantly, she hoped it would get the approval of her date for the night.

After a while longer of waiting, she finally decided to head to the dance alone, telling herself that her date for the evening just forgot to let her know that she had already left. How that would be possible, considering it was the biggest event of the school year, she didn’t know, but she refused to believe she was being ditched. As she hopped onto her palisman, Maya, she sent a quick message off to Skara to let her know she was headed towards the school.

On the flight there, she searched the ground below in hopes of spotting her date. Even as her eyes scanned the land without fail, she didn’t spot her there. Occasionally, she’d feel a spark of excitement, thinking she spotted her among the scattered students headed in the same direction, only to feel utterly deflated.

With a huff, she stopped at the entrance of Hexside, allowing Maya to retreat from her physical form as she headed inside, all the way to the auditorium. The large, wide doors were propped open, revealing the scenery behind them: the glowing floor of the stadium, littered with students laughing and cracking jokes together as they danced. Streamers were hung high on the walls, providing enough room for the disco ball to stand out and aid the colorful lights in shimmering around the room.

Boscha couldn’t help but smile at the sight. After all that had happened recently, it was a breath of fresh air to see everyone so carefree. She’d never admit that to anyone though.

She sauntered inside, once again checking her scroll for the message she had been waiting for. Nothing, of course. “Boscha!” She jumped at the sudden voice, her head perking up to let her eyes search for the source. She found Skara waving her over to get her attention. She stood beside Amelia and Cat, who waved to her as well.

A small smile cracked across her lips, Boscha waved back and headed over. She hugged the three before asking if any of them had seen her date. “No, I don’t think I’ve seen her tonight,” Amelia hummed in thought as she recalled seeing the other students throughout the evening. “Me either,” Skara started, “but didn’t she say she’d message you to let you know when she got here?” Boscha nodded. “Yeah, but I haven’t gotten anything.”

“Maybe she’s just running late?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Even as she agreed, Boscha couldn’t help the feeling of overwhelming doubt that crept over her senses. Surely she had to be here somewhere. The service on the Isles hadn’t been great in the area, so maybe her message just didn’t send through? She didn’t know. Instead of physically walking around to find her, she opted for heading up to the top of the bleachers to scan the crowds alone. She told Skara it was so she had a better chance of spotting her, but the reality was she didn’t want anyone to see the pure worry on her face.

An hour and a half had passed, and if Boscha’s nerves hadn’t gotten the better of her before, they certainly did now. Still no word of her date, and no sight of her either. After a while, she had rejoined her friends back on the dance floor, awkwardly ignoring their suggestions to dance for a bit to ease up with a forced grin. “I just wanna save my energy for my “big dance,” you know?”

To try and shake the nerves, she walked around the room here and there, all while checking her scroll. Still nothing.

Just as she made it a few feet away from her friend group again, her scroll finally pinged. She clicked it, and confusion riddled her features at the sight that her date had posted something on Penstagram. So much for her reception being bad.

With a newfound hesitancy, she clicked on the post to view it. Her heart dropped at the sight of her date with someone else at the party that was being held at Glandus High, their opposing school. She held the stranger tight in the photo, clearly posing for a selfie. She felt her limbs grow numb as her gaze dropped down to skim over the caption, unable to swallow or hear any of the surrounding noises as she processed the words.

There wasn’t even the slightest mention of her name, but she knew that it was directed towards her.

“Ditched a would’ve-been mistake, loving this party! Shoutout to Glandus for giving me the best replacement for both a lame party and date!”

She hadn’t even realized she had finally looked up from her scroll. One moment, she was reading the caption in shock, and the next, she was met with several gazes from the other students in the room, all of which were a mix of pity, confusion, and sorrow. Skara and Amelia motioned for her to come over, likely to try and sympathize with her and comfort her.

She’d have none of that.

The night had been ruined long ago, she just wasn’t made aware of it until then.

Her date didn’t think she deserved to be spared the humiliation, and decided to publicize it on top of everything? She hadn’t let the girl know about her worst fear, and yet she somehow managed to make it known to everyone anyway.

How predictable.

How pathetic.

Through blurred vision, in which she cursed herself for starting to cry, she shook her head and began to walk backwards. It soon turned into a sprint once she turned, then she was quickly running. How could she have been so stupid? She should’ve noticed the signs immediately, and yet she decided to turn a blind eye and only embarrass herself further by going all out. She ignored the concerned calls from her friends and desperately rushed to the furthest bathroom from there that she could find.

Once she stumbled across one, she wobbled inside and stood in front of one of the mirrors to the sinks. Her hand shook violently as it twisted the knob, and only shook harder as she dunked it under the running water before letting it resurface to splash the water in her face. She repeated this motion with both hands, all while letting out several curses under her breath.

She lost count of how many times she splashed herself, going on and on until she could no longer tell the difference from the tears that streaked her face and the sink water that soaked her skin. Her hearing had returned, though everything sounded muffled. She had been rejected here and there in the past, but she had never been publicly made fun of and humiliated in the process. It was heartbreaking. That was the only way she could possibly describe it at that moment.

Eventually, she pried herself away from the sink, barely mustering the courage to turn it off before wandering to the roll of paper towels and using a few to pathetically pat her face dry. She shivered, barely realizing then that she had soaked part of her blazer. She glanced down to find that a large amount of the water had trickled down her jaw and neck and soaked through the collar of her shirt as well.

Reluctantly, she tore the blazer from her torso, tossing it on top of the lid of the trashcan. With the same paper towels she had already partially soaked, she lazily tried to dry her shirt as well. After one failed attempt of wringing the collar dry, she sniffled and gave up, tossing the crumpled up sheets aside. She shakily left the room and subconsciously found herself roaming the halls. She couldn’t go home just yet, she knew, or her moms would ask what had happened. She didn’t have the energy to explain it all.

And she couldn’t return to the party. She just couldn’t. She didn’t want to deal with giving any fake responses when people offered their sympathy, nor did she want to hear anyone else mentioning what had happened while watching them side-eye her from a distance.

Again, she found herself scolding her mind for sobbing, though when she let her fingers graze her face to wipe the tears, she studied them with confusion upon seeing they were dry. She strained her ears, forcing them to hear past the dull ringing. Somewhere nearby, she could hear someone weeping. Although she knew she didn’t have the energy to talk to whoever it was, her curiosity got the better of her. Maybe knowing she wasn’t the only one having a horrible night was what gave her a small burst of energy–enough to find the source anyway.

She narrowed down the possibilities of which hall they could possibly be, grumbling at how the empty halls amplified the noise and had the echoes reverberating throughout the walls. Finally, after pin-pointing where the sound was coming from, she neared the corner to the intersecting hallway ahead of her and slowed her steps before ultimately stopping to listen.

Around the corner, a strangely familiar voice choked out pained sobs and murmurs, unaware they were no longer talking to themself. She peeked out cautiously and found [Y/N] [L/N], a girl she knew of but didn’t know personally, curled into herself against the wall, her body trembling with every heave and wail.

“What the hell did I do?” She asked herself repeatedly in between sharp gasps for air, her phone tossed to the side and long forgotten. Boscha glanced down and found the small device near her feet, face-down on the chilled, marble floor. As silently as she could, she picked it up and studied the screen, which was somehow still on. Her eyebrows lifted in shock, surprised to discover this girl was in the exact same situation as she was.

She sighed inaudibly. With one hand still holding onto the phone and the other tucked into the pocket of her slacks, she walked forward, clearing her throat to push past the voice cracks she knew she’d produce if she tried to talk. Startled, [Y/N] jumped and reeled back. She wiped furiously at her eyes and peered up at Boscha, who held the phone up a bit further. “Rough night?”

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know anyone was over here.”

“No, you’re fine.”

They stayed there in silence, unsure of what to say. With a small grimace, Boscha moved forward and sat a couple of feet from [Y/N], leaning against the wall and handing over her phone. “Thank you,” was her soft reply. She only nodded before turning her head to stare blankly at the lockers across from them.

She wondered if there was any possible way to salvage the night. Even if she returned to the party, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. There was no one to dance with, and she’d constantly be stared at the entire time. Maybe she should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and locked herself away. Or even gone home after all and snuck back into her bedroom. She just didn’t want to face the world anytime soon.

“So…you’re Boscha, right?” A gentle voice questioned beside her. She turned her attention to [Y/N] again and nodded. “Yeah. And you’re [Y/N], right? The human?” “Yeah, that’s me. Why aren’t you at the party?” Boscha scoffed and scratched the back of her neck anxiously. “My date ditched me, that’s why. Decided I was a mistake, and that I deserved to feel ridiculous by not telling me ahead of time that she wasn’t interested.”

“Oh…”

She hummed, then turned back to her again. “What about you?” “Same here.”

She wished she could’ve been surprised, but after seeing what had been left on the screen just a moment ago, she couldn’t even muster a proper reaction. “Guess we’re in the same boat then, huh?” She muttered with a fake chuckle after waiting for a beat. “I guess so.”

Silence settled upon the two of them again, though it wasn’t as uncomfortable as before. Boscha wracked her brain for something to say to lighten the mood, grasping desperately at anything that could make the night better. If she knew the situation better, coming up with a solution would be far easier. She thought of what Willow or one of the others would do in her place, wincing at herself for becoming so soft in the past few months.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

The two had sat there for a little under an hour, just talking about what had happened at first, but eventually started chatting about more positive things. It was relieving when the two of them shared a laugh for the first time that evening. Their situations were pretty much the same, although [Y/N] was able to escape the auditorium without much notice. Her date had bailed on her and made it public pretty early on in the evening, meaning there were very few students around when she saw the post.

All the while as they talked about whatever came to mind, Boscha couldn’t help but find herself urging to ask [Y/N] to come back to the auditorium with her and prove both of their dates wrong–to show them that they were better off without them. She wasn’t sure how to ask in a smooth manner, so ultimately, she built up the courage to ask it as bluntly as possible.

While [Y/N] searched on her phone for something that related to a story she was talking about, Boscha scooted a bit closer. “So, what would you think about just heading back and going as each other’s dates instead?” Shocked by the sudden question, [Y/N] glanced over at her and tilted her head. “Huh? What do you mean?” Boscha shrugged, unable to bite back her smirk. “Well, I mean…we shouldn’t let the night go to waste. We can still salvage it. Plus, we’d get to prove to everyone that we don’t need people who’ll ditch us.”

She gently nudged her shoulder with her own. “We can show them that we’re better than that, y’know?” [Y/N] stared at her for a moment before laughing anxiously. “I don’t know, Boscha. I’m not sure I could go face everyone in there again. Aren’t you afraid of how they’d look at us? At you?”

“Of course I am. Ever since I made it to high school here at Hexside, I’ve had to work hard to make sure people look at me with respect. Didn’t matter if they hated me or not, I had to pretend not to care. I was the “star,” the Team Captain of the Grudgby Team. I’m always terrified of how they look at me, if I’m being honest. But…you kinda learn to ignore it after a while and just do your own thing. Shouldn’t we be allowed to enjoy our night, even if we get weird looks for it?”

For the first time that evening, [Y/N] felt confident. Not drastically more confident than before, but Boscha’s words got the gears in her head working again after being rusted with stress and tears. She had been so distraught by the whole incident that she hadn’t been able to think logically about how she still deserved a good night.

Maybe dancing with Boscha that night would make up for it.

She glanced down for a moment in thought. At length, she looked up again and smiled with excitement. “Yeah, you know what? Let’s do it!”

At that, Boscha laughed and pumped her arm triumphantly the way she did when she won a Grudgby match. She stood and offered her hand for [Y/N] to take, hoisting her up to stand in front of her when she did. [Y/N] pocketed her phone, giggling as Boscha tugged her forward towards the auditorium with a newfound pep in her step. The two laughed the entire journey there, Boscha’s hand never leaving [Y/N]’s.

Before they made it, they stopped and glanced at each other to suck in a quick breath, steeling their nerves and grinning as they walked inside. Boscha was quick to bring her over to her friend group, introducing her to the others and explaining what had happened–first asking [Y/N] and confirming that it was okay to talk about the situation. They seemed confused, but ultimately were glad that the two of them had found a way to improve what they went through.

They smiled and waved at them as they headed to the dance floor, Boscha hugging [Y/N] tightly against her as they swayed to the beat of the song. As they circled the others, occasionally having to apologize as they bumped into a couple here or there, they kept their eyes trained on one another, warmth growing in their chests as they studied the smallest features.

Boscha watched in awe as [Y/N]’s eyes squinted shut tight enough for the bridge of her nose to crinkle slightly with every wide smile and laugh. She could swear that she’d catch [Y/N]’s [h/c] eyes flickering down to her lips when she’d crack another joke.

[Y/N] noticed with pure glee that not once did Boscha’s eyes leave her own. Her third eye seemed to focus on her the most, seemingly showing what the witch was truly thinking in that moment as its pupil overtook the majority of the iris.

By the time Grom royalty headed to the arena, once everyone parted to sit in the bleachers of course, Boscha and [Y/N] were in tears. They were glad, however, that they were from the constant laughter they shared rather than from the initial heartbreak they experienced merely two hours ago. They waited until everyone was settled and focused on the fight before sneaking out and jogging out the front doors, laughing all the while.

Finally, the two of them made it outside, a good distance away from the building. They fell to the floor in yet another fit of giggles, struggling to gasp for breath as they added on to the previous jokes. [Y/N] playfully reached over far enough to smack Boscha on the shoulder, snorting in the process and laughing even harder at the sound. “Boscha, stop it! I can’t breathe!”

They continued like that for a while until the jokes settled down. They snickered occasionally, but sighed once they were able to calm all the way down. As [Y/N] let her hands move up to swipe the stray tears from her face, Boscha couldn’t help but stare with a smile that could only be described as smitten or lovestruck. How had she never met this girl before tonight? She was so carefree and warm. They had only spent the past few hours together, but in that time, in between all of the playful banter and dancing, they had learned so much about each other. It felt like they had known each other for so long.

Like they were old, close friends.

Although the mere thought of her ex-date was painful, she was a thing of the past at that moment. She was able to keep her mind clear with [Y/N], and she wondered if it was because they knew what the other had been through, or if it was because they had actually managed to grow pretty close in such a short amount of time. Either way, she was grateful that they had met. Maybe she was being too bold, but she felt like this wasn’t just going to be something that lasted for one night.

As cheesy as it sounded, she had never felt that way before. Usually, she only spent time with people if she pitied them or wanted to leech off of their status. With [Y/N], however, she wanted to spend time with her because it felt right–it felt natural. It wasn’t a forced formality like what she had had with Amity. It was genuine. There didn’t seem to be any kind of ill-intent or fake gentleness that she sensed with others.

She couldn’t recall the last time she was able to laugh like they had together, or even when she was able to talk so casually about things she could remember from her past–the memories that brought joy and didn’t have to make her look good, anyway.

It was an amazing, freeing feeling that she never wanted to let go of. She told herself, no matter what anyone else thought, she’d make sure this continues. Just looking into [Y/N]’s eyes as they talked told her that she didn’t want this to end either.

“You know, as weird as it sounds, I’m actually kinda glad we were ditched tonight,” [Y/N] admitted softly. Almost immediately after, she covered her face and laughed anxiously. “Oh god, that really did sound horrible. That’s not what I meant by that at all.” Boscha chortled and shook her head, letting the back of her knuckle tap [Y/N]’s arm. “No, it didn’t sound bad at all. I know what you mean. I feel the same way. I mean, if that hadn’t happened, we wouldn’t have met, and…well, even if our dates had both shown up, I don’t think we would’ve enjoyed the night.

“Not to assume anything, but it seems like my date tonight wasn’t the only asshole in this situation. Whoever ditched you didn’t realize what they were losing.” [Y/N] rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her arm to gaze down at Boscha, a confused grin toying at her lips. “What are you talking about? I’m not much of a loss.” Boscha rolled over as well, though she stayed solid against the ground, peering up at [Y/N] from below. “You are so. You’re amazing. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

Again, a soft, confused chuckle sounded from [Y/N]. “C’mon, Boscha. You don’t know that. I mean, we just met, for god’s sake.” At that, the three-eyed witch finally sat up to make direct eye contact with her. “Well, yeah, maybe. But I can already tell how incredible of a person you are. Not once during this entire night have you judged me for anything. You’ve made it clear that you’re attentive and aren’t selfish. I just…I hope I don’t come across as selfish to you. It would honestly surprise me more if you didn’t think of me that way, actually. I’m not exactly the most compassionate witch.”

[Y/N] scoffed and scooted over to gently bump her shoulder against the other girl’s. “What? Are you crazy? Of course you’re compassionate.” “Huh?” “Boscha, all you’ve done since we’ve met is make sure I’m happy. You’ve cracked jokes nonstop to make me laugh. I probably would’ve still been in that hallway crying right now if you hadn’t checked on me to make sure I was alright. And you didn’t just ask if I was okay and then move along when I said I wasn’t. You sat with me and helped me talk things through until I really was.

“And then you convinced me to save the night by going back into the auditorium and enjoying the dance, even after all that had happened. I don’t think I’ve had this much fun since…well, ever, actually. You made tonight worth it. I loved being able to meet you and spend time with you.”

Boscha could only gawk at her in awe. No one had ever thought that way of her–not in a genuine way that they would actually admit aloud. It brought forth a new feeling that she had no idea how to process. As far back as she could remember, people would stare at her with pure fear or disgust. But now, as she looked up and gazed into [Y/N]’s eyes, all she could see was admiration. And from what had just been said, it seemed that admiration stemmed from affection rather than terror.

She couldn’t think of anything to say for a long while, and she could see [Y/N] growing unsure of herself.

“I loved spending time with you too,” she finally whispered at length. After a moment or so, she steeled her nerves and gently took [Y/N]’s free hand into her own. She glanced down and watched as she let the pad of her thumb gently caress the back of her knuckles. “And I really hope I get to spend more time with you in the future.” She tried her best to glance back up to gauge her reaction, but her eyes averted that direction each time and settled back down at their connected hands.

The soft blades of grass that were once comforting merely minutes ago now made her exposed skin burn and itch uncomfortably as she shifted around, unable to sit still and maintain her composure.

“I’d love that,” was her response after a while. Finally, she managed to glance back up, her breath shuttering as she studied the breathtaking smile that graced [Y/N]’s lips. Her face brightened at the answer, turning a soft shade of red. “Really?”

“Yes.”

She knew then, at that very moment, that everything that had happened was for a reason. She never thought she’d be thankful for the fact that someone had ditched her, but she knew she never would’ve met [Y/N] otherwise. Likewise, she never thought she’d think of anything other than showing off to others about what she had achieved. She figured she would’ve wanted to take the best possible photo with the other girl to post online–a silent jab at her ex-date from that night. She thought she would’ve used PDA as a way to “claim what’s hers,” but none of that ever happened.

It was a few weeks after the two started dating–at a much later date, of course–that she finally posted something relating to her relationship. There were no undertones of bitterness towards her ex, nor were there any mentions of being controlling or overprotective of her girlfriend. Instead, she showed off her favorite videos and photos she had taken during their first few dates with pride, simply feeling honored to be able to show off the girl she loved most of all.

She didn’t want the world to think that [Y/N] was hers.

She wanted to show that she felt lucky to have her.

She wanted to make [Y/N] feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

To give her everything she deserved.

To help her see that just by being herself, she was worth everything.

Requited Love

[Resident Evil: Village] Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Spoilers for the game, angst, mentions of past trauma, death, anxiety.

[A/N]: This was a prompt swap with one of my friends, and I've written one more from this challenge with her for Samantha Giddings, though I don't plan to post it anytime soon. I have a masterlist in my drafts that lists all of the characters I want to write for, but I'd like to post three stories for each of those characters before I upload the masterlist--that way I can figure out which ones I will actually write for, and which ones I won't.

Enjoy!

 “C’mon, Aunt Donna! I’m telling you: if you take her out on a date like that, she’ll have to say yes!” Daniela chirped excitedly from her seat against the armrest of the sofa. Bela elbowed her gently in the arm, scoffing and shaking her head. “Dani, [Y/N] shouldn’t feel pressured to say she feels the same way. She should have every reason to feel comfortable enough to say no if she’s not interested.” She turned to Donna, who had been fidgeting with her fingers. “Of course,” the blonde said in a much softer tone, “I don’t have any doubts that she won’t reciprocate your feelings. I’ve seen just how thrilled and lively she gets whenever your name is even mentioned.” The doll-maker’s head perked up at this, her shoulders tensed as she stared with pure hope behind her veil at the eldest daughter.

Angie jumped up onto the sofa and bounced on top of Bela’s lap. “Really?” She squealed. Bela smirked knowingly at her as she side-glanced at Donna. “Yes, of course.” Daniela leaned forward. “Yeah! She really does love you, Auntie! We’ve all seen it–even Cassandra! Right, Cass?” She turned to her older sister, who was seated at the far end of the couch with her arms crossed, seemingly disinterested. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. It’s sickening to see how oblivious the two of you are around each other,” she retorted. Bela sent her a threatening glare. “Cass, watch it. It’s not their fault they’re too nervous to confess. Rejection is a painful thing to experience.”

The brunette turned to her. “Yeah, I know, but they aren’t going to reject each other. We all know that.” “They don’t know that. Well, Donna knows now, but [Y/N] doesn’t.” She turned to her aunt with a comforting smile. “I can assure you that the love you have for [Y/N] is requited.” Donna smiled softly under her veil, looking to her lap as the three daughters turned to Angie. “Don’t worry,” the small doll spoke while waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll make sure Donna doesn’t chicken out.” Donna turned to her. “Angie,” she scolded as Daniela and Bela chuckled–Cassandra even snickered a bit to herself from the opposite end of the group

The doll-maker sighed and tugged Angie over to sit in her lap. “What if I mess something up?” She voiced softly after a moment. Daniela stood from the armrest and moved to sit next to Donna, squishing herself in between her aunt and Cassandra. “Hey, watch it!” The redhead ignored her and gently grasped one of Donna’s hands. “You won’t ruin anything,” she reassured in an uncharacteristic tone. “Bela and I can even help you set everything up so you can focus on making the food!” The veiled woman looked to Bela, who smiled back at her. “You two would be willing to do that for me?” The blonde nodded. “Of course. Since it’s warm enough outside, we should be able to stay out without much layering.”

Cassandra cleared her throat, prompting everyone to glance over at her. She stared at them expectantly. When she got no answer, she growled and planted her hand flat against her chest. “Am I just supposed to stay here on my own? Do you three really not trust me enough to contribute somehow?” Bela and Daniela looked at each other with confusion. “We thought this kind of stuff annoyed you,” the blonde responded. “It does, but I don’t like being left out of things. I hate it almost as much as I hate all of this cheesy romance shit.” Bela rolled her eyes and Daniela giggled. “I’m not really sure what you could help with. Dani and I can take care of the table and decor pretty quickly on our own.”

Cassandra growled again, but before she could speak and bicker with her sister, Donna turned to her. “Actually, Cassandra, if you’d really like to help, it might be nice for the main part of the meal to be hunted and homemade instead of being bought from the Duke. It would add a more meaningful aspect to it.” Cassandra’s eyes lit up as she smirked. “Say no more. Name the day, and I’ll be there with whatever you need.” She shifted into a swarm of flies and flew up the stairs, leaving her sisters there to finish planning with Donna.

T////////S

[Y/N] giggled as Donna led her over behind the house to the edge of the waterfall. “Donna, where are we going?” The doll-maker had covered the girl’s eyes with her hands so she’d hopefully be surprised by the setup. “Somewhere special, but not far from home. I…” She hesitated, her hands trembling against [Y/N]’s face. The [h/c] girl raised her own hands to cover Donna’s, gently caressing them with the pads of her thumbs. “Hun, just relax. I’m sure I’ll love wherever you take me.” Donna smiled warmly down at her. Her tensed hands slowly relaxed as they continued walking forward, but quickly grew rigid again as they grew closer to her desired spot.

Finally, after a long while of stumbling and trying not to trip each other, the two women came to a stop. [Y/N]’s eyes were still covered, but she was able to hear the rushing water of the nearby cliff flowing down rapidly somewhere far below them. Donna sucked in a deep breath. “I-I really hope you’ll like it,” she whispered, internally slapping herself for stuttering. Even after failing to steel her nerves, Donna managed to remove her hands and drop them down to her sides, where they only remained temporarily before finding each other in front of her torso to pick at one another. [Y/N]’s eyes slowly fluttered open. They quickly widened shortly after as a small gasp slipped past her lips. “Oh, Donna, it’s beautiful!”

Donna sighed in relief, glancing over to take in the view herself. There, a good distance away from the edge of the cliff, stood a suitably sized table with two seats placed opposite of one another. A pastel tablecloth draped itself atop the wooden surface of the table, the edges rippling with the soft breeze. Resting on top of the cloth was a small vase filled with dicentras as the centerpiece, two plates of lasagne, and a small tray of antipasto. Two wine glasses full of Barbaresco positioned themselves beside the plates, the rims of the glass shimmering underneath the moonlight. Even from where she stood, [Y/N] recognized the craftsmanship of the wood used for the table and chairs–Donna had made them quite a while ago, but she never knew why until then.

Donna stepped forward and softly placed her hand on [Y/N]’s shoulder. She squeezed it to gain her attention, prompting the girl to look up at her. “Do you really think it’s beautiful?” [Y/N] beamed brightly at her, turning to her and grabbing her hands. Donna blushed. “Of course I do,” she responded cheerfully. The ravenette sighed softly in relief. “I’m glad.” They stared at each other for a moment, not entirely sure what to say next. Finally, Angie came bounding from the opposite side of the house. “Sit down and eat before the food gets cold,” she yelled while tugging at [Y/N]’s pant leg. “Donna and the mean sister from the Tall Lady’s family spent a lot of time on it! I’ll bite your ankles if you don’t go sit down.” [Y/N] chuckled. “Okay, okay, fine.”

She and Donna walked over. Before [Y/N] had an opportunity to pull her chair out to sit down, Donna rushed over and did it for her. She thanked her with a sheepish grin and watched as the doll-maker forcefully sauntered over to her own seat. Once they were both seated, they picked up their utensils and hesitantly began to eat. [Y/N] hummed once the flavor hit her tongue. She covered her mouth as she spoke. “Oh, wow, this tastes incredible, Donna! And Angie said Cassandra helped with this?” Donna nodded and blushed. “Yes. She helped hunt for the meat in the dish, and Bela and Daniela helped me set the table, chairs, and decor up. They’re, um…they’re actually the ones who encouraged me to do this tonight.” [Y/N] smiled. “They’re all so sweet, even if they don’t like to show it.” Donna nodded in agreement.

She took a shaky breath, unsure of how to even bring up her confession. Her hand trembled as she continued to take small bites. She went to reach for her glass, but decided against it when she noticed just how badly her hand was shaking. She didn’t want to spill the wine on herself and end up embarrassing herself while ruining the moment. ‘How am I supposed to ask her? There has to be a way to bring it up in a smooth manner.’ Panicked, her mind went back to a few weeks prior when she had been discussing the plan with the Dimitrescu sisters.

F////////B

“How do I even go about asking something like that? I don’t want it to be sudden and make it even more awkward than it already will be,” Donna anxiously said aloud, surprisingly not using Angie as her voice. The three sisters all turned to her, each one carrying their own expression: Bela seemed distressed, Cassandra appeared annoyed, and Daniela looked as though she was about to burst with the ideas she had been keeping private about the date. “I don’t want to screw this up–I’m already enough of a screw-up as it is.” The sisters’ expressions all shifted into one of uniformed concern. They sat next to Donna on the bed, Bela and Daniela taking either one of her hands. “Hey, what are you talking about? You’re not a screw-up,” the redhead assured softly. Donna lowered her head in an attempt to hide the tears pricking her one good eye, even though her veil was still covering her face.

“I am. I always have been. I don’t know what [Y/N] even sees in me.” Bela tilted her head as the pad of her thumb brushed over the back of the doll-maker’s hand in a soothing manner. “What makes you think of yourself that way?” Donna sniffled and slipped both hands out of the girls’ grasp, allowing her to bring them up under her veil to wipe her tears and hide her face even further. “I’ve always been able to tell how people think of me,” she started softly. “My parents always favored both of my sisters, and once they passed, they didn’t seem to care enough about me to stay. I remember crying to myself each night–telling myself that, if I had been good enough, maybe they would’ve stayed. Maybe they would’ve loved me more.”

“Oh, Donna, you–” “And then I met Mother Miranda. I thought I could be a perfect daughter, even if I wasn’t fit to be a vessel for Eva. When she told me I was part of the family, even though I wasn’t a perfect fit, it didn’t upset me because I was happy to finally have people I could rely on. But then I read her entries about the experiments she performed on me.” She wiped her face again, her fingernails digging lightly into her scalp. “She…she said I was almost a perfect fit, but she was disappointed to learn that I’m “mentally underdeveloped.””

The three women beside her remained silent, unsure of what to say to comfort her. They listened with disheartened gazes as their aunt began to weep. She curled her legs up onto the bed and clutched them to her chest, allowing her to bury her head in between her knees. “I don’t want [Y/N] to see me as a disappointment,” she finally rasped at length. “She means way too much to me–I can’t lose her like I’ve lost everyone else.” Bela pulled her to lean against her shoulder. “Hey, I may not be able to say anything about what Mother Miranda said about you because that’s out of my control, but I can assure you with all of my heart that [Y/N] loves you. She would do anything for you, yes, but that also means she wouldn’t lie to you about how she feels. If she thought of you in a low manner, you would’ve been able to tell. Has she done anything to make you doubt how she feels?”

Donna stayed quiet for a moment, seemingly thinking back on what Bela had asked her. After a moment, she shook her head. “No, she hasn’t. She actually…does the opposite.” “She does? How so?” “She just–she makes me so happy. She always compliments everything I do, and supports me, and constantly helps out around the house so I have more time to work in the shop. She even,” she chuckled, letting her legs fall back down to hang over the side of the bed again. “She even plays the piano and sings for me while I work so I won’t be alone.” Daniela grinned beside her and gently shook her shoulder. “See? There ya go! Just focus on the positive.”

Donna giggled, and she nodded as she moved to stop leaning against the eldest daughter so she could straighten out her clothes. “I suppose you have a point. I just–I still don’t know how to confess how I feel or ask her.” Cassandra stood and stepped in front of the three, crossing her arms. “Just do it. I don’t see why you’re so anxious about this.” Bela scoffed and stood up as well. “Cass, you need to–” “No, listen to me. I may not understand why people fall in love, but I do know that Aunt Donna and [Y/N] love each other. It’s not a temporary thing–especially for them–so she doesn’t need to worry so much about what could go wrong.” She turned to Donna, who had been listening intently. “She won’t say no, I promise. Just find whatever courage you need and tell her how you feel.”

The doll-maker smiled up at her, though no one could see it, and nodded. “I’ll do my best. Thank you–all three of you.”

They all beamed at her warmly. “Of course,” Daniela responded. “So, how’re you going to confess?” Donna blushed, her shoulders growing tense. “Oh, well…I’m not entirely sure. I know you said I couldn’t–and shouldn’t–use Angie, so I’m having to find a way to rehearse what I want to say for myself.” “And what do you have so far?” “Well…”

E////F////B

Donna cleared her throat, twirling her fork around and moving bits of food across the plate. “So, [Y/N],” she mumbled barely loud enough to hear. [Y/N]’s head perked up at the sound of her name. “Yes?” “I-I, uhm…” She glanced up at the girl across the table and blushed once they made eye contact, quickly averting her gaze and staring down at her lap. She looked over to find Angie giving her a thumbs up from several feet behind the [h/c] girl. With a shaky breath, Donna’s hands dropped down to pick at themselves underneath the table. She felt her heart hammering against her ribs, silently wondering if [Y/N] could hear it as well, and she found it hard to breathe properly. She whispered a few words of encouragement to herself under her breath.

Finally, she looked back up, though she couldn’t maintain eye contact, and she felt her arm jerking its way slowly above the table. Her palm presented itself face up–a silent plea for [Y/N] to hold her hand, which she did happily. Donna felt herself sigh. Holding [Y/N]’s hand always calmed her down–she truly felt at peace with her. “Can I be honest with you about something?” [Y/N] squeezed her hand softly, a small smile painting her lips.

“Of course you can. What is it?” Her calm tone felt welcoming–like it had no judgment behind it. Donna cleared her throat again. It felt too soon into the evening to be confessing like this, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She had to know if [Y/N] felt the same. “It’s about why I brought you here tonight. I wanted it to be special because what I need to tell you is…very personal. It’s important to me.” “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me this then.” Donna chuckled, mindlessly rubbing her face with her free hand as she felt her face heating up even more.

“I have more than trust for you, [Y/N], believe me.” [Y/N] tilted her head, suddenly growing anxious. “Is something wrong?” “No, no, nothing is wrong. I just–” She finally looked her in the eye. “You mean the world to me [Y/N]. You’ve made my life so much better from the moment you arrived. You always know what to say and do to make me feel happy. You make sure I eat enough throughout the day, that I take plenty of breaks, that I get plenty of rest. You always help with the cleaning and cooking, so I have even more time to work on my projects, but you still manage to sit in the room with me to keep me company. I’ve never felt so…loved and important to someone. I truly hope you feel the same way about me.”

[Y/N] was awestruck. Her blush was evident as she responded. “I do, Donna. I do feel the same way. You mean the world to me as well. It might be really corny for me to say this, but I just can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to imagine my life without you.” Donna felt the tears already trickling down her cheek and across her jawline. She felt her fears slowly easing up. This was a great sign–she shared the same feelings about how important they were to one another. She smiled, squeezing [Y/N]’s hand even tighter. “I’m so glad.”

They stared at each other for a long while, both too afraid to say anything in fear of ruining the moment. Angie, however, came bounding over and pulled on Donna’s pant leg. “Tell her how you feel already! It’s getting dark, and I’m getting tired!” Donna shooed her away silently, her head perking up when [Y/N] giggled. “Angie, don’t rush her. She shouldn’t feel uncomfortable no matter what she has to say.”

Donna felt her heart beating faster. She stared at her for a long moment, her mind racing. “Donna? You okay?” She jumped. “Y-Yes!” [Y/N]’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at her sudden urgent tone, making Donna blush as she reflected immediately on how she answered. She cleared her throat and covered her mouth. “I-I apologize. Yes, I’m alright.” “Okay, that’s good.” “But what Angie was talking about–about me telling you…how I feel?” “Yes?” “Before I tell you, could I possibly ask if you’d promise me something?” “Of course.” “Can you promise me that you won’t leave me? That nothing will change between us?”

[Y/N] laughed nervously, but quickly composed herself a bit when she saw just how terrified and expectant Donna seemed. “I promise, but what exactly are you wanting to tell me? I’m sure nothing could be bad enough to damage our relationship.” Donna nodded, wiping her tears away and gripping [Y/N]’s trembling hand in her own. “I suppose we’ll see. I just want–I want to tell you,” her voice trailed off, her confidence faltering and crumbling.

“Take your time, okay? Don’t feel like you have to rush.” Donna remembered every word of encouragement from the people who knew about that night–Bela’s, Cassandra’s, Daniela’s, and even [Y/N]’s. She needed to get this over with. The feeling of being a burden returned–she was taking too long to get it out there. She gripped her leg tightly and took three deep breaths. Steeling her nerves, she blurted it out before she could lose her courage and back out of it again–the way she had done so many times before.

“I love you.”

She felt a weight lift off of her shoulders, though it wasn’t much. She still needed to know if [Y/N] felt the same. She pried her eye open and finally darted her gaze back up to find [Y/N]’s, only to discover that the [h/c] girl was blushing profusely. They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, making Donna even more anxious. “Did…did I ruin this?” She asked softly. [Y/N] slipped her hand from Donna’s to wave them dismissively in front of her. “Oh, no! No, Donna, not at all! I’m so sorry, I just—wasn’t expecting you to be the first one to confess.” Donna’s heart fluttered at the statement. She wanted to smile, but she needed to make sure she didn’t misinterpret the last part of the sentence.

“So…do you feel the same way?” “Yes! Yes, I do.” “Say it!” A random voice suddenly called from around the corner of the house. Both women jumped and turned to find Daniela peeking around the corner while Bela and Cassandra tried to pull her back into hiding. “What the hell?” Donna muttered, turning her attention back to [Y/N] when she laughed. “Sorry, they just really scared me,” she said in between breaths. Donna smiled warmly at her and let out a small snicker of her own. “They scared me as well.”

They gazed at each other with love-stricken grins. Finally, [Y/N] brought her hands up and took Donna’s into hers, caressing them softly before bringing her left hand up to press a light kiss to her knuckles. “I love you too,” she confessed. Donna’s heart flipped as a wide smile cracked across her lips. She stood, pulling [Y/N] to her feet, and tugged her into an embrace. “I love you so much. You have no idea how long I've dreamed of saying that to you,” she whispered. The faint sound of buzzing grew louder, and soon, Daniela was beside them, pulling them into a hug of her own. “Yes! See? I told you you could do it!” Bela and Cassandra joined nearby–Bela began to try to pry Daniela off of the two while Cassandra laughed at how ridiculous her sister was being. “Dani, leave them be! You just ruined the moment!” Donna giggled and leaned back from the hug just far enough to look over at her.

“Actually, Bela, she didn’t ruin anything. It’s alright, I promise. It’s nice to see that she’s so supportive of how [Y/N] and I feel about each other.” Bela sighed. “I’m glad, but Dani, you still need to let them go. This is their moment,” she said as she finally managed to yank her sister away from the two. Donna and [Y/N] both giggled at them before turning to stare at each other again. “So what does this mean? Are you two a thing now?” Cassandra suddenly asked as she stepped closer to the group.

The two women glanced at her before returning to each other. They studied each other’s gaze for a while, seemingly communicating without saying a word, and finally turned back to the sisters. “Yes, we are,” [Y/N] announced. Donna looked back down at her, unable to wipe the grin from her face.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Bela replied, softly patting Donna’s shoulder. “I told you this was a requited love.”

Shielded Tranquility

[Resident Evil: Village] Cassandra Dimitrescu x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.07k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Blood, threats, handling a small panic attack, mentions of torture, suggestive dialogue, language, soft angst, and fluff.

[A/N]: Here's Cassandra's part for the continuation of Shielded! I'm working on the story for Daniela, so expect that sometime soon! Bela's part can be found here.

Enjoy!

//////////

Faint laughter rolled down the crumbling hallways of the dungeon linked to the kitchen, softly rumbling its way past cracked bricks and snapped planks that littered the cold and rugged stone floor. Having noticed just how overwhelmed and stressed the majority of her fellow maids were, [Y/N] offered to assist them with the most anxiety-inducing task: cleaning out the remains and partially-dried bloodstains in each cage. After working with House Dimitrescu for so long, most maids and visitors–who later became victims–grew accustomed to these scenes.

The reason so many of the maids grew frail and hesitant with every action they took while on the lowest floor of the manor was because they were never sure if their predators would join them, taunt them, and ultimately torture them relentlessly, laughing at them and mocking them heartlessly as they took their final, strained breath. No matter how many times they were reassured by the head matriarch of the castle known for the bloodshed and lack of mercy, each maid felt their heart sink to their stomach each time they heard they were being assigned to work downstairs.

Knowing this, and wanting to help her coworkers feel at ease while working, [Y/N] made sure to crack jokes at every given opportunity. She kept a smile on at all times and forced herself to appear as though she had no concern for the potential punishment or death any one of them could receive at any given moment.

The maids, even those among them who had been fortunate enough to survive and work under one of the Four Lords for years, found themselves astonished at her carefree attitude. Although they weren’t sure how genuine she was being towards them, they couldn’t help but feel their own anxiety flicker away with each grin and pun sent their way. Within an hour, they had all begun to share jokes and laugh. They convinced each other to stay as silent as possible, but after a decent amount of time that lacked scolding from one of their employers, it was becoming much harder to stifle their giggles.

Each woman had grown comfortable enough to let their guard down, though one by one, they grew tense again and gasped as a familiar figure prowled past them, accompanied by the overwhelmingly strong smell of blood, sweat, and something rotten. Confusion riddled each maid’s face as the middle child, Cassandra Dimitrescu, paid no mind to them, not even gracing them with a single glance in their direction. Instead, she lurked forward with a smirk on her face. She had clearly just gotten finished with a hunt, which was evident from the way warm, wet, fresh blood had been splattered over her lips and gradually trickled down her jawline and throat. It seeped into her cloak, though it didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. Likely the same blood that enhanced her wicked grin also drenched her tattered gloves and sleeves. Wherever she was going seemed to be more important than cleaning up after herself.

Then again, she tended to prefer keeping a wild appearance. She was thrilled when others feared her and viewed her as unhinged. It helped accomplish her desire to be intimidating and in control, which satisfied her even further each time she toyed with her prey. Knowing that her wicked, sadistic glare would be the final thing so many of her victims saw was addictive. Being feared was one of the most important, exhilarating things to her.

Her sickle dangled loosely from her belt, rocking and thumping against her hip with each sauntered movement. Strangely enough, it didn’t seem it was what she had used. The silver still gleamed effortlessly under the dim lighting from the candles burning punily against the walls. It seemed as though the blade had been sharpened recently, which only added to the bewilderment pouring throughout the entire level.

Pure terror and a feeling of helplessness riddled through the women’s bodies as they managed to shuffle closer to the wall and watch from the corners of their eyes as Cassandra continued to glide towards her target–which they quickly realized was the woman providing them with their only sense of comfort: [Y/N].

The maids closest to [Y/N] noticed her presence far too late to warn her. They instinctively stepped away and bowed their heads to both show obedience and to avoid potentially making eye contact with the cruelest daughter of Alcina. [Y/N] noticed their sudden change in behavior and tilted her head in confusion, never once twisting around far enough to see the woman mere inches behind her. Cassandra’s emergence from the stairs instantly became known to her, however, as cold, damp, strong arms encircled her waist and pulled her backwards far enough to lean against the partially-solid body of the taller woman now standing directly behind her. She yelped, puzzled at how she hadn’t heard the buzzing growing louder or noticed the tension returning to the room. A shiver crept through her body upon feeling the blood begin to seep into her uniform, once warm in the body of the victim, now frigid against her skin.

Before she could turn to face her, Cassandra’s strong jawline and chin, doused in thick blood, planted themselves into the crook of [Y/N]’s neck. Her voice hitched as the woman’s hot, staggered breath caressed her ear. She could feel everyone’s eyes on the two of them, as well as the sensation of a slick, crimson red substance instantly bleeding through her white cotton shirt-collar and streaming across her shoulder, all the way down to the skin just above her right breast.

She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs so violently, and given how enhanced Alcina’s daughters’ senses became after the experiment they unwillingly participated in, she was sure Cassandra could hear it as well. Her anxiety spiked immediately once she realized neither Bela nor Daniela were down here with her. She never had to fear what would happen around Cassandra as long as they were around to keep her in check, but now she was down here on her own. Thinking as quickly as she could, she did her best to remain calm and prevent the other women in the room from getting hurt. She took a sharp breath in and turned her head to peer at Cassandra through the corner of her eye.

“Lady C-Cassandra, what are you–” “Hello, [Y/N]. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why’re you down here wasting your precious time with these pathetic maids? You weren’t assigned to work in here.” [Y/N] swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. She didn’t mind having to stand up for herself, but as a child, she had been forced to learn how to defend others after learning of the other kids in the village bullying her younger sister. She knew the other women who worked here were too terrified of the heads of the house to put their foot down, but she wouldn’t allow herself to stand aside and let them be thrown around and treated like they were worthless. In her mind, it would feel like she was letting her sister get hurt–like she would let her down. “Lady Cassandra, please. I’m no better than the other women here, and you know it. I’m a maid just like the rest of them, and none of them are in any way inferior to you or your family.”

A dark, forced cackle erupted from Cassandra’s lips as her fingertips dug into [Y/N]’s clothed skin. “Oh, you really do amuse me, my little maid. You know very well these pathetic, shoddy women mean nothing outside of their work. And even then, they can all be replaced.” She lowered her voice so only [Y/N] could hear her and tugged her closer. “All except you,” she husked with an impish smirk. A shudder jolted down [Y/N]’s spine. Before she had a chance to send back a retort of her own, Cassandra continued, instantly changing the subject.

“Aside from that, you still haven’t given me a reason as to why you’re down here. You weren’t assigned to clean out the cells, so why have you gone against orders? Don’t make me repeat myself again.” She turned her head, allowing her bloodstained, needle-like fangs to graze against [Y/N]’s soft, warm, tempting skin. “You know exactly what will happen.”

[Y/N] found herself suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. Cassandra was one who tended to put on a facade around others–especially those she deems to be lower than her–but her mask would periodically falter long enough to show her more sensitive nature, in which she always seemed ashamed of. “I didn’t go against any orders, Lady Cassandra. I was told–by your mother–to take the day off and do as I please, so long as I don’t interfere with her work. That’s why I’m down here: I’m doing as I please, which is helping the other women down here so they don’t overwhelm themselves with such a daunting task. I’m in no way interrupting your mother’s work. I hope that answers your question.”

The maids pinned to the sides of the, now dead-silent, halls held their breaths, mortified at how bold [Y/N] had been as she spoke to Cassandra–the sister known to be the most sadistic, aggressive, and short-tempered of the three. They feared they’d watch their friend be torn apart right in front of them, limb by limb. Rigid as boards, they shared silent looks with each other before a mocking laugh bellowed deep from inside Cassandra’s gut. Their eyes shot back to the two women secluded from the rest.

Cassandra cackled once more at [Y/N]’s remark, audibly growing annoyed with how confidently she was biting back. She sighed, gripping the smaller woman tightly by her right bicep and twirling her around to look her in the eye. “I suppose it does, maid. I just hope you haven’t made any other plans. You’re coming with me,” she sneered as she yanked her back towards the staircase leading up to the kitchen. She glared daggers at each maid this time as she passed them. Her footsteps echoed loudly as she stormed up in a swift movement fueled by her wavering pride. “Let this be a warning to all of you. No one speaks to me this way. If you’d like to be drawn to the most horrendous pain you’ve ever experienced, then by all means, be my guest and follow her example.”

Mortified gazes trailed after the two as they vanished through the arched doorway and up the stairs. The maid closest to where they left strained her ears in an attempt to hear anything further.

Once she knew they were both out of earshot and sight, Cassandra softened her grip on [Y/N]’s arm as she led her up the stairs in the main den. “Lady Cassandra, where are you taking me?” The brunette sighed and waited until she found a secluded room where there were no other maids stationed. She tugged her forward before practically slamming the door shut and locking it, flying over to the other entrance leading to the adjacent room and doing the same. At length, she spun around on her heel and glared down at [Y/N] with furrowed brows. “Why the hell would you speak to me that way in front of them? Do you know how humiliating that is for me? How difficult it makes it to maintain some sense of intimidation and control?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “No, of course you don’t.”

[Y/N] sucked in a shaky breath to steel her nerves. She stood up straight, strained her features to mirror neutrality, and steadied her voice to appear confident in herself. “Lady Cassandra, it wasn’t my intention to upset you. I just don’t enjoy watching how ashamed you and your sisters make my coworkers feel each time you speak to them. I’m sure they’d do much better while working if you treated them with the respect they deserve.” Cassandra laughed again. “Respect? You really think those lowly maids deserve respect? Even with how worthless they are?” Irritation overwhelmed [Y/N]’s senses. She stepped forward with a look in her eye that Cassandra had never seen before. It enticed her. “Listen. I don’t care what you say about me, or even what you say about your sisters. You know very well that they’ll have the courage to fight back, and so will I. But I will not stand by and watch while you degrade those women who are too terrified to speak up for themselves. They may not have your respect, but you sure as hell have theirs.

“I may be speaking out of place here, and you may very well have my head for it, Lady Cassandra, but it seems to me that I’m the only one here who will stand up for what’s right, and I won’t apologize for it. If you showed any decency towards the people who worked day and night for you, you would know better than to constantly berate them at every given moment. Any child who was taught basic proper manners knows that.”

Stunned, Cassandra only stared silently at the fuming woman in front of her, her mouth slightly agape as she blinked. After a moment of the two women staring awkwardly at each other, [Y/N] sighed heavily and took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head down to gawk at the floor beneath her as if it were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. She cleared her throat.

“I apologize, Lady Cassandra. I didn’t mean to go that far. I’m just so sick of seeing you hurt others like that. I care about those women so much, and I don’t want someone else I care about to be the reason behind their suffering.” Another sigh slipped through her parted lips. “I suppose I should’ve expected this, though. After all, your family is known for being merciless towards those deemed even less valuable than the dust on the bodies of those you toy with and torture. Those that are unwillingly brought into this world with dreams and ambitions of their own, only for it to be taken away over several grueling hours that you seem to enjoy.”

The seconds that followed felt like hours, both women at a loss for words. [Y/N] continued to avert her gaze and stare at different objects decorating the same room that grew heavier with tension. Cassandra, however, couldn’t tear her eyes away from [Y/N]. She had always known the woman wasn’t afraid to stand up for what she believed in, but she had never heard her grow so aggressive and insulting. It piqued her interest. Aside from her sisters, Cassandra wasn’t used to anyone talking back, even to defend themself. She felt herself going to war inside her mind, desperately racking her brain for something to say.

“Just…” she started in a hushed tone. “Just call me Cassandra, for god’s sake. I think you’re already aware that you’ve earned my trust. You know I don’t have it in myself to hurt you, especially after you defended my sisters and I when that disgusting man-thing broke in a couple of weeks ago.” It was [Y/N]’s turn to be surprised. She had never heard Cassandra speak so calmly, even when she had rested against her after the invasion a few weeks prior. She cleared her throat. “But that’s…that goes against everything I was taught. I mean, you know I don’t think of anyone as superior or inferior, but I do know how important it is to show respect. It’d feel so improper to address you that way.” Cassandra sighed, though it shifted more into a low growl that rumbled in the back of her throat.

She stepped forward. “Oh my god, why are you–ugh! You’re so damn annoying!” “What…?” She stepped closer, prompting [Y/N] to cower back a bit and begin to trail backward. “You heard what I said, god dammit! You’re annoying! God, this is disgusting. I’m disgusting. I never wanted to feel this way–especially about you!” “Lady Cassandra, wh-what are you talking ab–”

“I hate you, okay?” She finally shouted. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, the hue beginning to flush her face matching the blood still dripping down her chin. She began to pace back and forth in a panicked manner, her gloved fingernails digging into her scalp. “I hate the way you make me feel, I hate the fuzzy feeling I get when I so much as think of you, I hate how beautiful and selfless you are, I hate how you’re afraid to address me casually, and I hate how you always make me feel so good about myself!”

Processing the words and replaying them over and over again in her mind like a record player, [Y/N] could only watch in a daze as Cassandra continued to walk around in frantic steps. At length, the troubled woman halted her movements and buried her face in her trembling hands. She heaved, wishing she could shrivel away at that moment. She had never imagined she’d be so vulnerable around anyone. In her mind, any emotion aside from anger or sadistic pleasure was weakness. How had this young maid managed to break down her walls in such a short amount of time? Surely saving her wasn’t enough to make her fall into such shameful vulnerability.

Oh, how desperate she was to drown away in her own puddle of shame, far away from everyone and everything that could see how pathetic she felt.

“But, Cassandra, why does that seem like it’s such a bad thing in your mind?” Unwillingly, a pained sob tore through Cassandra’s lips as she once again clawed at her hair. Her lips curled up as a rough laugh followed soon after. “Because I don’t deserve it! Any of it, dammit! You should be afraid of me!” Her eyes screwed themselves tightly shut as another cry erupted from her throat, which was growing raw from the hysteric weeping.

She couldn’t hear anything over the sound of her own sniffling and sharp gasps for air. The feeling of two warm, gentle hands firmly taking her own made her visibly jump, recoiling back and nearly spiraling into the nearest wall out of shock. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” [Y/N] whispered reassuringly, holding her hands up in front of her shoulders, palms facing towards the terrified woman. “I need you to breathe, alright? Just breathe. Here, give me your hands. If it’s alright for me to hold them, of course.”

Cassandra looked down as she panted fearfully, wrestling with her conscience to come back to her senses. Her golden eyes flickered back and forth between [Y/N]’s hands offering themselves to let her hold and the girl’s soft, yet stern, steadied gaze. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Hesitantly, Cassandra found herself stepping forward at a painfully slow pace before outstretching her arms far enough to rest her hands in [Y/N]’s. She looked back up at the one trying to calm her down.

“Breathe, okay? Take three deep breaths, and then we’ll go from there.” She had to take a moment to understand the words, but Cassandra eventually nodded. She attempted to take the first one, though it came out in a strangled manner. “Hey, just look at me. Breathe with me, alright? We’re going to breathe in for three seconds, hold for three seconds, and then take the same amount of time to breathe back out. Got it? In three, hold three, out three.”

Too puzzled about what she was feeling, Cassandra nodded again and did as she was told. She watched as [Y/N] began to breathe in slowly and held up her left hand to count to three. Shakily, she followed her example, and after a few attempts, she had finally managed to take three deep breaths. “Good,” [Y/N] whispered. She began to kneel down into a sitting position, gently tugging the trembling woman with her. Once seated, [Y/N] squeezed Cassandra’s hands in her own.

“I want you to focus on your five senses, alright? We’ll take it one at a time. First, tell me what you can feel.” Cassandra’s hands twitched uncomfortably, tingling from being numb. After taking a second to muster her strength, she curled her fingers far enough to grip [Y/N]’s hands. She blinked, eventually closed her eyes, and let herself focus. “Y-Your hands. I f-feel your hands in mine.” “Try to describe them for me.”

She stammered, struggling to properly form the correct descriptive words. “Uh, s-soft, warm, and…” She squeezed her grip again. “They’re smaller th-than mine.” “Good, you’re doing great. Now tell me what you can hear.”

Her brows furrowed together tightly as she strained her ears, trying urgently to push past the rushing sound of ringing. “I–I can hear my v-voice, and our heartb-beats.” “Good. What can you smell?” She inhaled deeply, failing to notice that her breathing had already returned to normal. “Your scent, and, um…the ashes in the hearth. I-I think there was a fire going recently.”

“Taste?”

“Blood. I, well, you can see why. I forgot to wipe it off on the way up here.” Cassandra felt herself smile tiredly as [Y/N] chuckled in response. “Yeah, I know. You’re almost done. Now you just need to tell me what you can see. You might want to open your eyes for that, though.” Cassandra let out a snicker of her own before she let her eyes flutter open. Having to take a moment for her vision to adjust from being blurred from her tears, eventually her eyes focused on [Y/N]’s. She couldn’t see it herself, but her pupils–which tended to slit themselves as if she were constantly preying on something–were blown.

“I can see you. I see your gaze, your smile, and–” she paused and nervously glanced down. “And the bloodstains I accidentally left on your waist.” [Y/N]’s smile grew wider. “You did great. Do you feel any better?” Too uncharacteristically bashful, Cassandra could only nod as she stared at the ground beneath them.

“I’m glad. Now, why don’t we get you to bed? You look exhausted.” As if on cue, Cassandra felt herself yawn, her hands slipping from [Y/N]’s and rising above her head to stretch. “Actually,” she murmured while rubbing her eyes, “could we just sleep in here? Kind of like how we slept that night, but just you and I?”

[Y/N] froze for a moment. “Are you sure? I don’t want to overwhelm you. I mean, I’m sure you’d like some space and privacy while you rest.” Cassandra didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest about keeping each other company, which was very out of the ordinary for her. “I’m sure. We’d just need to get the fire going again and gather up some pillows and blankets. I could go grab those if you wouldn’t mind getting some of the spare driftwood and lighting it up in the hearth.”

The two women, although they experienced different reactions to the proposal, both internally felt the mutual urge to be near one another. Neither one of them were sure what their relationship was, but they both craved a more intimate, romantic connection, though both were too afraid to make the first move. Cassandra’s fear was her pride being crushed because of her phobia of dealing with rejection. [Y/N]’s fear was the thought of ruining what it was they already had established, feeding on her linked dread of being despised and abandoned.

After realizing that Cassandra was already half-asleep, [Y/N] could feel her hesitation begin to fade. She sighed at length and nodded. “Alright, I can do that. I’ll be right back. I’m not sure how many pillows or blankets are up here though.” Cassandra shrugged and stumbled onto her feet. “I don’t know either, but I’ll see what I can find. Hurry up though. I’m about to collapse, and I don’t want to do that in this cold-ass room.” Finally, [Y/N] giggled again. “Alright, alright. Fair enough.” She hoisted herself back onto her feet as well and headed towards the door leading out into the main hallway, unlocking it and beginning to head out.

“Oh, and [Y/N]?” She halted her steps and peered back into the room. “Yes?” Cassandra gazed at her gently. “If you so much as breathe a word about any of this to anyone, especially my sisters, I’ll have your head,” she threatened emptily with a smile. [Y/N] paused before laughing. “I was honestly waiting for a wink or something with that last part.” Cassandra couldn’t help but roll her eyes as [Y/N] left, though she also couldn’t bite back her smirk. “Yeah, that’ll come later on,” she mumbled under her breath. She turned to the sofas lining the far wall, drifting towards them to retrieve the throw pillows propped up against the armrests and the soft, red cotton-weaved blankets folded neatly in the center of every other cushion.

//////////

Flames began to crackle loudly as they grew in the hearth. A soft light illuminated the room, casting wavering shadows throughout the room, which brought attention to the only highlighted spot shielded from the darkness. A few feet in front of the base of the fire, [Y/N] and Cassandra had bundled themselves together under layers of blankets and on top of piles of pillows. Similar to what she had done two weeks prior when recovering from the attack, Cassandra had huddled against [Y/N] as closely as she could. Her nose had nuzzled itself into the girl’s neck, allowing her to effortlessly breathe in her scent as she rested.

They had both stayed quiet for a while, watching the fire grow larger, though [Y/N] eventually broke the silence. “Hey, Cassandra?” The fatigued woman leaning against her, clinging to her for warmth, hummed almost inaudibly in response. The lack of clarity in the noise was caused by the lower half of her face being buried underneath the covers–as well as how she had positioned her head to bask in [Y/N]’s aroma. “Hm?” “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you come looking for me earlier when I was downstairs?” Cassandra huffed and yawned. “Because I was originally going to ask if we could come upstairs and do exactly what we’re doing right now. I just lost my temper, so things kind of took…a turn,” she slurred out sleepily.

“Ah.”

Silence fell upon them again. Several minutes passed before either one of them spoke. This time, it was Cassandra who broke the hushedness. “I cannot tell you how tempted I am to bury my face underneath your shirt.” [Y/N] coughed, attempting to stifle the sudden choking on her spit. “I-I’m sorry?” Playfully, yet tiredly, Cassandra smacked her shoulder. “Not like that, you dork. Well, not yet anyway.” Again, [Y/N] had to prevent herself from choking. “I meant because you’re really warm, and having your shirt over me would keep the heat in. I’d probably fall asleep there and never come out.”

“C-Cassandra, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“Honestly? I don’t even know anymore. I’m exhausted. I probably won’t remember half of the things I’ve already said once I wake up. It’s a nice thought though–I’d get to be close to you, I’d be warm, and your shirt would block out the sunlight so I can actually sleep in.” [Y/N] smirked, playing along. “Yeah, but then you’d have to hear all the weird noises my stomach makes 24/7.” Cassandra hummed out a small laugh, already on the verge of falling asleep. “Ah, I’d say it’s worth it.”

The two smiled, the tranquil setting returning comfortably this time. As Cassandra began to dream, [Y/N] reflected on all that had happened so far. Although she knew it wasn’t necessarily a permanent issue, her mind kept wandering back to the arguments and insults. It began to eat away at her consciousness.

Afraid Cassandra was still upset from her unintentional outburst earlier, [Y/N] desperately grasped at ideas on what she could possibly say to lighten the mood. She squeezed Cassandra’s shoulders to pull her closer. “Y’know, next time you get angry and I can tell you’re about to have a completely different mood or reaction, I’m going to yell “plot twist!” like I’m solving some kind of crime in one of Daniela’s corny mystery books, and then carry on. You think your sisters will be confused?” Cassandra, although she didn’t understand why she was asking, chuckled breathily. “Oh, definitely, but I will be too.”

[Y/N] grinned. “Yeah, but then that means I win.” Cassandra’s head perked up a bit to face the woman holding her. Her eyebrow raised as the gears visibly turned in her brain. “Huh?” [Y/N] beamed down at her. “I win because I managed to switch your attention to something else. That way you’re not entirely upset anymore.”

Finally, after a long moment of thinking her exhaustion was rendering [Y/N] as incoherent, Cassandra laughed and yawned. She let her head fall back gently to return to its resting spot on [Y/N]’s chest. She sighed as the familiar heartbeat behind the girl’s ribs filled her ears.

“You’re so stupid. I love you so much.”

[Y/N] froze, surprised that Cassandra was the first one to say it. Eventually, she felt herself smile in a tired, smitten way, before leaning her head back against one of the many pillows they were both propped against. Her head then tilted far enough for her ear to come into contact with Cassandra’s soft brunette locks. Her fingertips dug lightly into the blankets they shared and pulled them further around themselves, then driving further up and finding themselves scratching softly at Cassandra’s scalp, prompting her to purr in response. Pure bliss flooded both women’s senses. [Y/N] could feel her eyelids beginning to droop from exhaustion. Listening to the way her body begged her to rest, she finally closed her eyes and let her tensed muscles relax.

“I love you too.”

One-Sided

[The Owl House] Boscha x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.82k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Pure angst: one-sided love, a small fight at the end between Amity and Boscha, toxic (?) friendships, language.

[A/N]: Final story for Boscha for now. It might take a while for me to upload again, but it's because I've got multiple drafts already written for several other characters that I need to finish.

Enjoy!

 “Amity, look at Boscha,” Skara whispered with a knowing smirk as she nudged Amity’s shoulder to gain her attention. Amity, who had been staring down blankly at her book, unable to study with all the nearby commotion, huffed and flipped the cover shut. She lifted her head to glance up at Skara, then followed where she was pointing. From surprise, her eyebrows raised. “Did she forget that other people are around?” She replied just as quietly. Even from her angle at her seat in the middle of her group’s cafeteria table, Amity was able to watch as Boscha held up her scroll.

She had been asked to take a picture of a few people, one of which was [Y/N] [L/N], the girl everyone knew Boscha had fallen for. She had her camera up on her screen, but it was very clear that she had zoomed in to get a visible shot of [Y/N] instead. A soft crimson managed to dust itself across the witch’s features as she bit back a smile. Before she turned her scroll to show the group, she snapped a much quicker photo after carelessly zooming back out in an attempt to hide what she had just done. [Y/N] grinned upon seeing the group photo and thanked her. She asked Boscha to send her the photo before she sat back down at the table across from Amity.

Boscha enthusiastically agreed and typed away on her screen. Within seconds, [Y/N]’s phone went off to show she had done as requested. She grinned up at the taller girl, whose face reddened even further as she giddily took a seat next to her. “Thanks!” “Yeah, no problem.”

Curiously, Amity cocked an eyebrow at her. When Boscha turned and made eye contact, she seemed awkward about something–almost as if she was wanting to ask a question. Instead, she turned to the surface of the table in front of her, her gaze landing on a drink she had brought in with her a few moments ago. With a small breath to steel her spiked nerves, she slid the drink over to [Y/N], who glanced over at it with confusion.

“I heard you liked that drink from a few people, so I figured I’d get it for you.” The grin she was met with as a reply made her own lips stretch up into a wide smile. “Oh, thanks! You didn’t have to do that.” “It was no problem, really.” Almost immediately, [Y/N] took a sip from the small cup, humming happily in satisfaction once she placed it back down.

Amity could see how Boscha got lost in a daze–much like the ones she found herself in once Luz arrived in the Demon Realm. The three-eyed witch’s gaze softened, a small smirk playing at her lips again as she continued to stare at [Y/N], who had turned away a bit to strike up a conversation with Amelia and Kat once they questioned the drink. Happily, [Y/N] explained to them that Boscha had bought the drink for her out of the kindness in her heart, to which the other girls glanced at each other. “That’s awfully sweet of you, Boscha,” Kat snickered. Boscha hadn’t even paid attention to the conversation, which was evident from the way she blinked at the sound of her name and finally managed to tear her eyes away from the girl sitting next to her. “Huh?”

Stifled chuckles were her response. She glanced at them in confusion, but ultimately shrugged it off and turned her attention back to [Y/N]. Amity pretended to open her book to continue reading, but she kept her hearing focused on what Boscha said, all the way up to where the bell rang. She had pretty much been talking about nothing at first, but eventually asked [Y/N] if she’d be at her “big Grudgby game” in a few days.

[Y/N] assured her she would be and started packing up her things from the table. She stood to toss her empty tray into the bin once the bell went off, then slugged her backpack onto her shoulders, still sipping from the drink Boscha had gotten her. She waved to the table and told them she’d see them at lunch. Before she could make it to the cafeteria door, however, Boscha practically bolted up from her own seat and darted over to catch up to the smaller girl, offering to walk her to her class.

No one at the table saw it, but they all knew [Y/N] had accepted her offer.

A groan of pure annoyance slipped past Skara and Amity’s lips as they tried their best to tune out Boscha’s words. All day every day, for the past several days, Boscha had been talking almost nonstop about [Y/N]. It only worsened after the final Grudgby match of the season, where she had shamelessly tried to flirt with [Y/N] after meeting up with her after the game. She messed up each line she tried to use, but didn’t mind it when the sound of [Y/N]’s sweet giggles met her in reply. It was hard for her team to witness, only because they had never seen Boscha act that way around anyone before.

That, and they weren’t sure how to let her know that [Y/N] wasn't interested in her in that way.

On top of the entire match being awkward, it had been clear that Boscha was trying to show off the entire time. More than she usually did, anyway. This time it was obvious why she was doing it. It wasn’t because she wanted to intimidate her opponents, nor was it because she wanted to impress her own team. Instead, she was showing off to an extreme because she wanted to catch a certain girl’s eye. She hadn’t been so aggressive during the first round, but that almost instantly changed once she finally spotted [Y/N] in the bleachers cheering her on.

Today seemed to be worse than the others. From the moment she walked in the building, Boscha had been talking nonstop about her, all but gushing about how incredible of a person she was. “Oh my Titan. Boscha, could we please talk about something else? Anything else? Anything at all,” Skara whined as the three of them sat down at their table for lunch. “Yeah,” Amity started, equally as exhausted, “I know I was pretty bad when I first started crushing on Luz, but I knew when to stop talking about her the way you’re talking about [Y/N]. I mean, talking about a conversation or a game or something is one thing, but the way you’re pouring out compliments left and right is kind of… tiring.”

“Yeah. Plus, there’s no way you have a chance with her,” Skara muttered, thinking no one had heard her. Amity stiffened in her seat, her breath hitching as her head snapped over to glare at her and her hand lifted to smack her arm. Upon realizing what she had said wasn’t just heard by herself, Skara gasped silently and covered her mouth, wishing she could take her words back. No one in the group had the heart to break the news to Boscha. They didn’t want to either.

Ever since [Y/N] had torn down her walls, Boscha started to soften up and take on a much kinder approach when dealing with others. They didn’t want her to find out the truth and revert back to her old ways. They were proud of her for showing she was willing to change for the better, and they didn’t want to ruin it for her or anyone else.

Boscha frowned as she turned to them. “What do you mean? Wouldn’t she tell me if she wasn’t interested? I’m pretty sure it’s clear to her what I’m doing. I mean, it’s obvious to everyone else, apparently.” She grimaced and looked down at her hands, watching as she tapped away at the backs of her hands with her nails. “I thought I was hiding it well, honestly.” Amity sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, mentally preparing herself for the conversation she knew she couldn’t avoid any longer. Silently, she turned to Skara and gave a small motion, to which Skara nodded and stood, slipping away to another table and making sure the others left them alone.

“Boscha, I have to be honest with you. I can’t see you do this to yourself any longer. Just… promise me you won’t freak out and make a scene, okay?” Now, with her expression entirely riddled and contorted with confusion, Boscha could only nod. She subconsciously felt her hand sneak up to toy with the charms on her bracelet–the one that [Y/N] had given to her as a thank you for her first gift after stumbling into the Isles.

Letting out a shaky exhale, Amity pulled out her scroll and clicked onto a specific conversation she’d had with [Y/N] about a week or two prior. Upon finding it, she turned it around for Boscha to see, watching as she scanned through the messages. A nervous chuckle escaped her throat as she gripped at her charms tightly now. “Wh-What is this?” Amity frowned. “You know what it is, Boscha. These are texts between [Y/N] and myself. And, based on your reaction, you read the whole thing.” The taller witch now averted her gaze and dipped her head down to hide her face, staring at her lap.

Attempting to comfort her, Amity placed her hand on Boscha’s shoulder, only for it to be shrugged off. “I’m sorry, Boscha. I figured you would’ve found out for yourself, but I guess you were too focused on how you felt for her instead.” She waited, staring expectantly at her for some kind of reaction. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“She already likes someone else.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Amity could only watch as Boscha trembled before forcing herself to stand. She picked up her bag and finally looked back at the youngest Blight, whose eyes widened only a fraction once seeing how dull Boscha’s eyes now seemed to be. “Tell the rest of the teachers that I wasn’t feeling good, alright? I’m going home.” She nodded as an answer and frowned as her eyes followed Boscha leaving the room.

She glanced back over at Skara, who was already looking over at her. Her features crinkled with concern, a sign she wanted to know what happened. Amity huffed, ran her hands down her face, then moved to join her and the others at the other table to explain.

 Nearly a month had passed since Boscha was made aware of [Y/N]’s feelings for someone else. For the first two weeks, she tried to move past it and pretend she was still fine. She wanted others to think she was mature enough to understand it wasn’t the end of the world. She knew it wasn’t, logically speaking, but it felt so much like everything was crumbling around her. She had been trying to change herself for [Y/N], hoping to catch her eye, only for it to all fall apart.

Amity tried to tell her that she shouldn’t have been trying to better herself just to impress someone, but quickly stopped bringing it up after seeing how distraught Boscha seemed at the mere mention of anything that had happened. [Y/N] hadn’t been made aware of anything, although she thought Boscha knew anyway. She could still sense something was wrong, however, and slowly shifted where she sat in the cafeteria to give the witch some space. Ultimately, she ended up sitting at the table Luz shared with Willow and Gus.

It only sent Boscha spiraling further. Soon enough, she started to hide from the others during the times they’d usually meet up. During breakfast and lunch at school, she’d eat in the auditorium, out by the Grudgby field, or would skip eating altogether. Anytime Skara or Kat tried to invite her to hang out with them like they used to, she’d come up with some excuse to stay home.

As much as she hated teenage angst, and as much as she knew she was likely being overdramatic, Boscha couldn’t help but feel heartbroken. Her world seemed to shatter around her. She eventually stopped attending Grudgby practices and matches, only showing up when absolutely necessary to avoid getting kicked off of the team. To add insult to injury, because of her absences, she was demoted from Team Captain, the role instead being given to Skara.

It made it harder for her to keep attending classes or practice, even after Skara offered to ask the coach to give her the role back. Boscha denied it and told her she’d give the team a better chance anyway before ghosting her again, the same way she had been doing to everyone. It became rare for anyone to get a response from her. Most of the time, she could be found lying face up on her bed, her eyes blank and dull as she mindlessly stared up at the ceiling. She knew her social life was ruined, and she knew she needed to start moving on, but even a small glimpse of [Y/N] or something that reminded her of the girl had her curling up and away from the outside world all over again.

Amity and the others had to start bringing her the schoolwork she had missed, much to the dismay of their teachers. They eased up, however, once being made aware of the situation. They sympathized with her, but still continued to tell her she needed to try to keep up. After all, a love life wouldn’t get you anywhere in life. You needed to focus only on your future career, and that included any work that was involved. That’s what Amity’s mother, Odalia, had been saying anyway.

Amity eventually stopped bringing the events up around her family. Boscha had enough on her plate. She didn’t need her mother complaining to Boscha’s moms about it–that would only lead to them bombarding her with endless questions and unintentionally making her feel more guilty.

One day, Boscha seemed a little more hopeful than she had been. She came back to school and managed to make it throughout the whole day, attending each of her classes and even participating as much as she could. When Amity asked if she was feeling better, Boscha grinned, though it was clear it was forced. “Not exactly,” she muttered. She yawned, the lack of sleep visibly getting to her. “But I think there’s still a chance.”

Before Amity could ask what she meant, the final bell of the day rang, echoing down the halls to announce the dismissal. Boscha almost immediately headed out the door and hopped onto her staff once making it outside the building. She flew off. Amity sighed and looked over at the now empty seat next to her, spotting Boscha’s bag still resting on the ground.

She picked it up and carried it in front of her as she walked out to place her books in her locker. Once making it there, she gently let the bag settle on the ground in front of her, then tugging her books out from her own backpack and tucking them away in the large maw of her locker. “Amity, hey!” Luz called out, joining her over towards the wall. “Whose bag is this? I saw you carrying it over here. Is it some kind of collection of yours? Maybe like the ones Eda has piled up everywhere?”

Softly, Amity laughed at her excitedly laced words and shook her head. “No, no, nothing like that. It’s Boscha’s bag. She left it in class by accident.” Luz tilted her head, now concerned. “She forgot her whole bag? Jeez.” A short moment passed. She wanted to think ahead of how Amity might react to her next question. “Is she okay? She’s been seeming so… down lately.” The witch’s frown returned, and she shrugged. “Yeah, I know. She’s not doing so well. I can’t exactly talk about it, but she’s pretty heartbroken right now.”

Luz nodded, not wanting to pry any further. She glanced back down at the bag again. “Are you gonna bring this to her tonight? I know it’s the weekend now, but I’m sure she has plenty of work to catch up on. Kinda hard to do that without all of her folders and binders.” Amity nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to go give it back after dinner. I want to message her to let her know ahead of time so I don’t just show up unannounced.”

Amity knocked on Boscha’s door urgently, the bag she had tugged along the entire flight there long forgotten. She had messaged Boscha after dinner, just as she had told Luz she would do, only to receive a response for her to get there immediately. “Boscha? Are you alright?” She reached to twist the doorknob, only for it to rattle and rotate from the other side. She jumped and stepped back a bit once the door swung open.

Amity couldn’t help but gasp at Boscha’s appearance: hair tangled and matted, clothes wrinkled and messily thrown on, and tears streaking rapidly down her face. “Amity,” she choked out between sobs, instantly pulling her into the room and tugging her into a tight hug. Her body trembled with each cry and whimper that wracked throughout her body. She eventually collapsed to the ground, Amity barely managing to catch her.

“Boscha, what happened?” A much louder chain of weeping erupted from the three-eyed girl, making Amity’s heart stop for a moment. What had happened in the span of a few hours that had left her so devastated? “I fucked it up. I fucked everything up,” she finally responded after a moment.

“What do you mean? What did you mess up?”

Finally, Boscha pulled back from the embrace, summoning her scroll and clicking on her most recent conversation. She continued to sob as she handed it to Amity, who read through everything quickly. “Oh… Boscha, I’m–” “She rejected me. I finally managed to tell her how I feel, and she told me she didn’t see me that way: she doesn’t love me. That she loves someone else and–a-and,” she stopped mid-stutter before she could choke on her ragged breathing.

“And wants to confess to them and ask them out,” Amity finished for her. Boscha hunched over, now letting her head press against the rough, wooden floorboards beneath her, her arms flying up to cover herself. Another cry slipped through, though it was far weaker, her shoulders finally slumping with defeat. “I shouldn’t have said anything to her,” she managed to whisper after a long moment. Amity had no idea what to say. She could only stare down at her friend with tears pricking her own eyes and blurring her vision.

She tucked the scroll away to let the only source of light dwindle off before lifting Boscha enough to take her into her arms. Soft words of affirmation managed to leave her lips as she rubbed soothingly at her back. “It’ll be okay, Boscha. I promise it will. These things just take time to heal from. I know you can do it, though.”

Gently, she lifted Boscha’s head to look her in the eye as best as she could. “You have me and Skara, and I’m sure Amelia and Kat wouldn’t mind helping you through this too. We aren’t going to leave you to deal with this on your own.” Boscha sniffled, straightening her back a bit to sit up. She wiped at her wet eyes, though more tears spilled soon after.

“But I don’t want to do it without her. I don’t want to do anything without her.”

Amity nodded with a small sigh. “I know. But you can still do it either way. I know you don’t want to, but just give it a chance, okay?”

Boscha’s eyes flickered back and forth for a bit, as if reading a script. A concoction of emotions flooded her senses, fury and sorrow leading the brew. Chipped fingernails dug into the fabric of her shorts as she shuddered. There were so many things overwhelming her mind–so many things she wanted to say, all out of her need to channel her anger after bottling it up for so long. She didn’t know what to do, and certainly didn’t know what to say, but she tried for an exhaustingly long moment to come up with something.

Finally, with her brows furrowed tightly together, she sniffled and managed to stand, using the collar of her t-shirt to wipe away her tears. “I’m not promising anything. I don’t want anyone’s help either. I can do stuff on my own. I have all my life. I don’t need anyone else.”

“Boscha, don’t–”

“Get out.”

She stepped forward and practically shoved Amity out the door once she stood to meet her eye-to-eye, slamming it right after and locking it. Amity, surprised by both the sudden motion and change in mood, knocked repeatedly and rattled the doorknob. “Boscha, please, open the door. You can’t lose yourself over something like this. You have to move on.”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me to move on!” She hollered back from the other side of the door, punching it to emphasize her anger. “I’ll do whatever I want, got it? Get out. Leave. Just– leave me alone already!”

Amity tried for an hour more to convince Boscha to let her back in, but quickly slipped out of the house once she heard the front door downstairs opening and closing, followed by familiar voices. Once she was sure she was alone, Boscha curled back up on her bed and threw her covers over her head to muffle out her cries.

Her heart throbbed uncomfortably in her chest, hammering against her ribs. She hated the feeling. She hated all of her feelings lately, including the ones that led her to believe making a last attempt of confessing would fix everything. She bit down harshly against her blanket, trying to prevent herself from letting out another audible cry. The last thing she wanted to deal with was her moms trying to comfort her. She wanted to be alone, even if it meant dealing with her bubbling emotions on her own.

Every nerve throughout her body felt numb, making her limbs feel impossibly weak. She couldn’t have even lifted the blankets back off of her if she tried. She closed her eyes, trying desperately to stop her silent rivers of tears and fall asleep, hoping it would ease the headache pounding in her skull. She hated all of the pain, both physical and emotional. She wanted it to disappear forever.

The feeling was only temporary, she knew. The one-sided love that had destroyed her and her life, however, was eternal.