Re8 Villains x Reader One shots

Shade : Donna Beneviento x Female Reader

                    When she was young, Donna found that myths were an interesting form of refuge. Stories of humans doing extraordinary things, sometimes with help, sometimes not; gods who took mercy on their children and granted them blessings...and people who were ostracized and scorned getting what they deserved in the end...love. All of these things drew her to the old, dusty storybooks that her peers usually scorned. Donna liked to connect those around her with people in these stories, as if her life was a fantastical fable. Her parents...could be a kind King and Queen. Her dolls...they could be selfless and loyal friends who helped her on her journey, Angie, her best friend, would be her partner in crime.

                    Then there was you. For some reason, when Donna looked to you, smiling and carrying on with your friends, she thought of the nymphs. Beautiful but powerful nature spirits, that could be seen everywhere in the world. Dryads who resided in forests and scared away tree cutters, Naiads who resided in fresh water, essential to humans who needed their daily drink...and her favorite, the Anthusae. The Anthusae were flower nymphs, who lovingly tended to the plants, as their life force was a part of the blossoms. Delicate, ephemeral, and kind, that was how she saw them...and that was how she saw you. An Anthusae who was as bright and lively as any healthy flower. You who always made time to say hello to her since you were children, you who always had sweet words to say when you saw her.

"Morning Donna! You look nice today!"

"Donna, how's Angie? She's doing good right?"

"How was your break Donna? I hope you had fun!"

                     But that begs the question...what did she see herself as exactly? When she was a child, she saw herself as the unlikely hero. Maybe she wasn't popular, and maybe her friends mostly consisted of dolls...but that didn't mean her time wouldn't come. In those stories, anyone who was treated badly usually got something good in return. A woman whose father treated her badly got to go and form a new life, a child who was said to be cursed got to instead become a great hero. She thought that one day, even though she was ugly, even though she was ignored by most, she'd get to be a hero. She had to be, right?

                   Life went on. Donna grew older, as did the people around her. You continued on in a way that she felt was right. As you aged, you were still beautiful, and she found that she somehow looked worse with each passing day. She stopped wanting to talk, stopped wanting people to see her face. You kept making friends, kept being so nice to everyone around you...even her. Even Donna, who most people found oh so creepy.

"Donna!" you called out to her one day, now sitting next to her at the lunch table that she was alone at. She hated being out now, especially without Angie, but you made things bearable.

"What are you doing? Can I see?" You tilted your head at the notebook she was carefully drawing in, and against her inner protests, she showed you what she was working on. You made sure to methodically place your hands around it, not wanting to smudge any of the detailed pictures. You found that they were in fact, designs for outfits. She dipped the notebook down slightly, writing in neat print: "For some dolls I plan to make, there's a new dress for Angie there too."

               You had smiled at her then, in a way that she both loved and hated. She wasn't on your level...at least she didn't think so. She had no right to blush at your face, for her heart to skip a beat at your presence. You were still a lovely nymph, sought out by many, and she knew that. She...She knew that she wasn't an unlikely hero anymore. She did hope though...that she was the princess to be rescued. Like beautiful Andromeda, whose name would soon grace even a galaxy, or merciful Ariadne, who was freed from her cruel father and wedded to a god. That someone else would come and help her to stop hating herself so much, so that she wouldn't have to weigh you down with her problems. Not that she ever told you about them.