Requited Love

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.”

Warmth

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

Word Count: 826

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: None!

[A/N]: This one is really short because I wanted to get something out quickly before writer's block hits me like a train. I'll try to write again in a few days once I find a way to gain inspiration again.

Enjoy!

Warmth flooded through Donna’s senses as a soft hand tapped away at her arm. She hummed, blearily opening her eye and subconsciously pulling the source of heat closer to her body. She inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of the shampoo [Y/N] used. She was too exhausted and caught in her state of bliss to realize that the one in front of her was speaking. The tapping returned, this time a bit harder. Donna grumbled, cursing under her breath softly as she woke up a bit more. “Donna, are you listening to me?” She nodded after a moment of processing the words and leaned forward to press her forehead against the back of [Y/N]’s neck. “Mmhm.” “We need to get up and get ready for the day. You’re usually up so early. Are you feeling alright?” Donna groaned at the question.

“I’m fine,” is all she mumbled. “I’m glad. We still need to get up though. We’re really off on our schedule. It’s nearly two hours after we usually eat breakfast.” The doll-maker shook her head in response. She pulled her closer, not wanting to leave the state of resting vulnerability. She had never felt this relaxed in all her years–it was entirely foreign to her. She welcomed it without hesitation, however, and made sure to savor every moment of it.

She had craved this for so long–even before she and [Y/N] had started dating. Ever since she grew to be a young woman and saw all of the couples around the village–all the romance in the books she read–she craved the same. She wanted to hold someone and be held. She wanted to feel someone trusting her enough to hold her close and provide her with the warmth she had been longing for. She knew this wouldn’t be the only time she and [Y/N] slept like this, but she was afraid to let go in case it took too long to do it again. She didn’t want to miss out on this warmth for another long, extended period of time. [Y/N] shifted in front of her, turning to glance at her from the corner of her eye as Donna opened her own. “Donna,” she spoke softly. Donna hummed in response, letting her eye flutter shut again. [Y/N] sighed quietly in front of her. “Never mind. Just rest for now, okay?” The ravenette nodded and moved forward to nuzzle her face back into the soft [h/c] locks in front of her. She yawned before sighing heavily. Her lips perked up into a small smile of content as [Y/N] gently rubbed her arm with the pad of her thumb.

[Y/N] knew Donna had been exhausted over the week. She had multiple orders come in for dolls, a family meeting that completely drained her, Angie was being herself, and she still had to cook and clean to take care of herself and [Y/N]. It made the [h/c] girl frown each time she thought about it. She wanted to help, but she wasn’t sure how. She could clean, but Angie always got in the way and distracted her. She offered to cook multiple times, but Donna refused, too prideful of her own food to let her take over. She couldn’t help with the orders because she didn’t have any experience in making them, and she wasn’t allowed to attend the family meetings.

She felt guilty for not being able to ease Donna’s stress, so she figured she could do something simple now–letting her sleep in so she finally got the rest she deserved. And if that meant their daily schedule got messed up by a few hours, that was fine.

She sighed with a smile of her own, earning a soft groan as she traced patterns against Donna’s arms with her nails. She brought the doll-maker’s hand up to her lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “I suppose sleeping in would be alright,” she said quietly. “It’d be nice to have a day off to just relax.” Donna nodded in agreement, pulling [Y/N] even closer to her and letting the muscles in her arms relax again. They stayed in silence for a while, both enjoying the other’s presence. Donna was drifting in and out of consciousness, worried she’d miss something [Y/N] said if she fell asleep again like her body was begging her to. At length, a familiar tap touched her arm again. She hummed to show she was listening.

“You know, if you want, we can cuddle like this more often. It doesn’t just have to be at night while we’re sleeping.” The doll-maker felt the crimson red heat flush her cheeks as a smile unwillingly cracked across her face. She brought her hand up in search of [Y/N]’s, lacing their fingers together once they found each other and squeezed it tight. “I would love that,” she mumbled.

A Place to Go

[The Owl House] Amity Blight x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.02k

Proofread: Yes

Content Warnings: Yelling, crying, general angst, Odalia being Odalia, and talk of an unsafe home environment.

[A/N]: Here's story 1/3 for Amity!

P.S. the reader / [Y/N] / you essentially replace Luz in the story. It doesn't change how anything plays out, I just figured I should mention it to explain the relationship.

Enjoy!

“Amity, I don’t care about whatever it is you think is more important than your schoolwork, but this is unacceptable! You’re hardly trying anymore, for Titan’s sake. Are you trying to make me look bad?” Odalia sneered down at her youngest daughter, waving Amity’s report card in front of her face to show her recent grades. “Mom, I still have almost all A’s! I don’t see why that’s such a bad thing to you,” she hollered in return, glancing to the side to find Edric and Emira peering in anxiously from the doorway. “Almost isn’t good enough, dear. You know that. You’re doing so much worse than you ever have. I feel like you’re doing this intentionally,” came her mother’s retort.

Amity sighed and ran her hands down her face, already beginning to feel the anger boiling and bubbling up to the surface. “Mom, I’m not intentionally doing anything. I’ve just been…distracted is all.” Odalia scoffed and rolled her eyes. Her free hand came up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “So I’ve noticed.” Her mother then grumbled something underneath her breath, glancing back over the sheet of paper in her hand before handing it over to one of the Abominations that stood in place of a servant. “Ever since that human came to the Isles, it seems you’ve been distracted every day. Honestly, I don’t see what interests you so much about her. She’s beneath us, Amity. You know that.”

The twins winced at the statement, watching as their younger sister tensed up and visibly grew irritated. They glanced at each other, silently wondering how they could step in without escalating the situation even further. “How dare you talk about her that way?” Amity yelled in return, stepping forward. “You know nothing about her! She’s actually the one who’s been listening to me and making me genuinely happy!” Odalia’s eyebrow perked up as she thought for a moment. She hummed with a knowing smirk.

“Is that so? So she’s the one who has been distracting you from your responsibilities? I suppose your father and I will just have to do something about her in that case.”

Amity’s body froze, her blood running cold as she stammered. “Y-You wouldn’t. You can’t! She’s all I have!” “All you have? Amity, have you forgotten all I’ve done for you? I gave you a name, a title, a reason for others to fear you. I gave you power and status! You’d be nothing without me, and you know it. [Y/N] is nothing but a pest who needs to be squashed. If that’s what it takes for you to return to normal, then so be it.”

Trembling harshly, Amity stepped back and tangled her hands together in an attempt to steady them and ground herself. “But…I don’t want to be feared,” she whispered. “I-I don’t want to have power and status if it means I can only use it for something bad.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and sucked in a shuttered breath. “[Y/N] treats me with the respect you never have,” she started again after a moment of silence, finally looking back up to her mother to look her in the eye as she forced her confidence once more.

“[Y/N] is a better person than you’ll ever be.”

Odalia gasped at that, her features contorting as she grew infuriated with her youngest daughter’s attempt to fight back. “Amity, you have no right to speak to me that way. And how would you even know that? It’s not like she means anything to you.”

“She means everything to me! She’s my girlfriend!”

Her hands came up to clasp themselves over her mouth as she gasped. She didn’t want to tell her mother about her relationship with [Y/N]--she knew she’d be disowned for being involved with someone her mother saw as inferior. Had she ruined everything? What if she had to break up with her? She let her gaze drop down to the floor. If that’s what she had to do to make sure [Y/N] was safe, she would, but she knew how painful it would be. There had to be a way to avoid her getting hurt.

“Girlfriend? Oh, no, Amity. You’re mistaken. You can’t date someone so far beneath us. We’ll find you a new girlfriend–one who’s better suited to be with you.” Amity’s jaw clenched, her teeth grinding painfully against each other as her arms dropped back down to her side. “And how do you know who would be suited to be my girlfriend? You don’t know what I need.” Odalia faked a laugh. “Oh, but I do, dear. You need someone who will benefit your place in the world. Someone who will better our reputation.”

Finally, Amity lunged forward and snatched her report card from the servant, glancing over it before holding it back up to show her mother. “If your reputation is all you care about, and you don’t care about me being happy, then I don’t want any part of it.” In a swift movement, she tore the paper in two, then let it fall to the ground beneath her feet. Her eyes never left her mother’s, however, which narrowed. They stared at each other for a moment, the tension in the air growing thicker with each passing second.

At length, Odalia sighed and crossed her arms. “Very well. I can always find a better replacement. Feel free to stay here if you’d like, but don’t bother taking any pride in your little stunt. Either way, [Y/N] will be punished for ruining your future.” Amity growled in frustration. “She didn’t ruin my future, she is my future! All you do is cause problems! I hate that I have to live here with you! You’re the only reason I don’t enjoy having the name Blight,” she hollered as loudly as she could, then spinning around on her heel to turn and storm off.

After she made it to the front parlor, she heard her mother start to bicker again. She picked up her pace quickly before sprinting out the door. She had no plan on where to go–she had never tried to run away before. She knew it was only a matter of time before someone found her and forced her to go back to living at the Blight Manor–she knew that–but she just wanted to get away for enough time to clear her head.

Tears blurred her vision, making it almost impossible to see where she was going as they spilled from her eyes in thick masses. She wiped furiously at her eyes, sniffling and hiccuping. The late hour certainly wasn’t helping: the sun hadn’t quite set all the way yet, but with every passing minute, the world around her grew darker.

In an attempt to calm herself down, she thought of where she could go. Her first thought was her hideout at the library, though that idea was quickly shut down. She knew that was one of the first places her family would look.

There had to be somewhere else she could go.

There was no way she was going to run to Boscha’s house, or any of her old friends for that matter. None of them would comfort her the way she needed. Her family would also look there anyway, so there was no point. In the midst of her thinking and weeping, she had sent a text through her scroll at some point, though she couldn’t quite make out whatever it was she had typed.

After several minutes of running in a random direction, Amity came to a halt, huffing and panting heavily as she hunched over to rest her hands on her knees. Her eyes closed, already growing weary from the tears that had barely dried while streaking against her face. Where could she go?

Where would her mother not look for a while?

Where could she go to feel understood and safe?

Her eyes shot open after a moment, her mind screaming at her feet to start moving again. She managed to pace herself in a light jog, eventually realizing it wouldn’t get her where she needed to be for a long while. She brought her hands up to cup the sides of her mouth as she hollered out. “Ghost! I need a ride,” she called out. Her palisman took a moment, but finally made it. Amity summoned her staff and quickly hopped on, flying off as quickly as possible.

She didn’t know how she hadn’t thought of it immediately: The Owl House was definitely a place she could go to whenever she needed, and unless her siblings ratted her out for it, Odalia would never think to even check that place for a while. She’d have at least a few days to recollect herself.

Another round of sniffles sounded from her as she mumbled where she wanted to go to Ghost, who flew even faster in that direction. It had only taken a few minutes for them to make it, though it felt like hours had passed to Amity. She hopped off of her staff and managed to run to the door, ignoring Hooty’s greetings and heading inside. Eda and King both asked what was going on, though all Amity could hear was ringing. Her body felt like it was going to collapse at any moment, and all she wanted to do was hold [Y/N] before that happened.

Racing up the stairs, Amity stumbled hurriedly to [Y/N]’s bedroom door, shoving it open and struggling to catch her balance as her eyes searched the room frantically. She sighed once her gaze met [Y/N]’s. A choked sob quickly forced its way through her lips as she walked forward and fell into the girl’s embrace. There were so many things on her mind that she wanted to talk about, but none of them came out coherently.

[Y/N] gently shushed her and told her to take her time. “Just breathe for me right now, okay?” Amity nodded and sniffled, squeezing [Y/N] in return as she struggled to steady her breath again. The feeling of her girlfriend’s arms around her torso was the only thing keeping her grounded to reality. That, and the sound of [Y/N] whispering soft words of reassurance beside her ear while she rocked her back and forth in a soothing manner.

Eventually, Amity managed to calm herself enough to start talking about what had happened. [Y/N] listened intently as she ranted, only speaking here and there to show that she was listening. After a good half hour of speaking, Amity crumbled into herself once the two of them sat on the bed. “I-I just don’t understand why her name is more important to her than her actual children. Why does she think her reputation matters more than me?”

[Y/N] could feel her heart shattering at her words. She pulled Amity into another hug. “I…I don’t know, Amity. I really don’t. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: every child deserves a parent who will love them and keep only their best interest in mind, but not every parent deserves a child, especially if they aren’t willing to put in the effort it takes to help them feel loved.” She leaned back to look Amity in the eye. Her hands came up to gently cup her face, and she could feel her heart throbbing again as the girl in front of her could only close her eyes and lean into the touch.

“You deserve so much more, Amity. You deserve everything you want. I hope one day your mom realizes that.” Amity hiccuped and began to cry again. Her head lowered, allowing her to bury her face in her hands. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” Gently, [Y/N] lifted Amity’s head and moved her hands. She cupped her face once more before letting the pads of her thumbs stroke her face to wipe her tears away.

Another sniffle came from Amity before she opened her eyes. She glanced up at [Y/N] and smiled weakly. “No, it’s not you. I just…you have no idea how badly I’ve needed to hear someone who isn’t my family say that. Thank you.”

The two shared a smile. After a moment or two, [Y/N] leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Amity’s forehead before speaking. “You look exhausted. Why don’t we get some sleep? There’ll be plenty of time to figure things out in the morning, okay?” A small nod was her response. The two of them then shuffled around for a bit to get the room more comfortable. The lights were turned off, and multiple blankets and pillows were brought in to provide a larger sense of comfort.

They laid down on the floor, bundling up underneath the blankets and facing one another. [Y/N] grabbed ahold of Amity’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, whispering a few more words before letting her eyes flutter shut. Several moments passed, but Amity was struggling to fall asleep peacefully. Every time her eyes closed, she thought of what would possibly happen to [Y/N] if her mother ever got ahold of her.

After gathering a small amount of courage, she scooted forward towards [Y/N] and rested her head against the girl’s chest. [Y/N] tensed at the feeling, looking down at her. She never asked why she moved closer, almost instantly understanding what was happening. Amity finally managed to fall asleep after focusing on the sound of her girlfriend’s heart beating behind her ribs. She counted the beating until she crashed. Considering all that had happened that night, she managed to have a relatively decent dream, her mind finally processing that she was safe at the Owl House.

She wished she could call this place her home instead of Blight Manor.

Maybe she could talk to [Y/N] about it when they woke up. She knew her girlfriend would be on board with her living there for the time being, but she would also need to make sure that Eda and King would be okay with it as well.

She’d have to wait until she woke up the next morning.

“Alright, that’s all for today. Remember there’s an extra credit assignment that’ll be due next week if anyone chooses to do it.” After the teacher made final announcements for the day, the students in class began to pack their things back up. Amity smiled at the thought of going home. She gathered her belongings and waited patiently for the bell to go off. Her eyes shut as her palm supported the weight of her head, propping her arm up against the table as she remained in her seat.

“Hey, Amity! Think you could help us with the extra credit this weekend?” Skara suddenly quipped, making Amity jump and look over at her as she and Boscha made their way over. With a dismissive wave of her hand, she smiled. “Ah, no, sorry. I’m not gonna do it this time. I just want to stay home and relax for a while.” Boscha’s eyebrows raised before a look of confusion crossed her face. “You aren’t doing the extra credit?”

Amity’s eyes squinted a bit at her. “Why? Is that such a bad thing?” Her tone came across a little more aggressive than she intended, but she didn’t have a visible reaction to it. Boscha shrugged. “No, I just don’t remember the last time you skipped doing anything for extra credit. Can’t blame you though,” she waved her hand with an exasperated expression. “The assignments are always boring anyway.” Amity only hummed, not contributing to the conversation any further.

Finally, the bell screamed throughout each class, echoing down the hallways. Amity beamed brightly and stood up, ignoring the surprised and confused glances from the others as she rushed out the door.

She made her way out the main doors of Hexide, summoning Ghost at her side before flying off to the Owl House. She landed relatively swiftly before jogging inside, finding that [Y/N] had already made it home before her and set up her phone to binge watch the shows she had been begging Amity to try watching for weeks. Amity smiled wider and laughed, gently discarding her school supplies before joining her girlfriend on the sofa.

They bundled up together under the blankets that had been set out, snuggling against each other before [Y/N] started the show. Amity grinned as [Y/N] laughed at a joke here and there, sighing contentedly as she leaned further against her girlfriend. She didn’t entirely understand what was happening in the show–and she definitely didn’t get any of the references made–but she was enjoying it anyway.

Something about the way [Y/N] held her and talked so passionately about what was playing on her phone made Amity feel safe and wouldn’t let her stop smiling. She had never felt this happy at the Manor. And although she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay here forever, she was glad her mother agreed to let her live there until the Day of Unity, though she didn’t appreciate the way she had explained why she was allowing it.

She ignored that though, and instead found herself falling even more in love with [Y/N] than ever before. Being able to spend every day together meant they could do everything together: go on dates, walk around town, crack bad jokes about what had been happening at school. Eda treated her like her mother never did, always making sure she was taken care of and keeping her best interests in mind. And King, although it wasn’t much of a surprise, became like a younger sibling to Amity. Anytime she was feeling upset and [Y/N] wasn’t there to make her smile, King found a way to make her laugh.

She loved every part of it, and she loved [Y/N], the girl who saved her from her lowest point in life and welcomed her into her new home with loving arms.

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.