Donna Beneviento x Fem!reader. Slow burn, will contain smut at some point, tags will be updated. Reader is named but only title/Last name! Contains 1st and 2nd chapter. No beta reader, sorry for any grammar mistakes! Thanks for reading :)
As fast as the good of the day came so did the bad. You had been sitting in this chair for so long sweat was making your thighs stick. You squirm at the uncomfortable sensation and refrain from audibly announcing your boredom.
A cough from the other side of the room catches your attention, a cocky and greasy man who gives you a seductive wink the second you make eye contact with him. Feeling the knot twist in your stomach you quickly avert your eyes back to the goddess who still isn’t finished with her speech.
There you were, the only Lady who wasn’t given Mother Miranda’s dark gift, sitting in the middle of all five of them. Six if you counted the little pest supposedly named Angie, all because you needed the cults help. Miranda kept her most devout followers in constant stress with you. They despised their Mother’s grace towards you..to them, you were just as low as a common villager despite your status.
A status that you were born into, not blessed with by a stroke of luck. Miranda promised no harm to your family as long as you respected her status as goddess, and so the village has lived under dual rule for centuries. For whatever reason this caused her lords a piculiar revirily with you, like playing a game that wasn’t done all at once. One that you didn’t know they were playing, too.
It wasn’t unusual that you’d find yourself here either, joining meetings was mandatory and you had to keep up the act. Dissect the cult of the black god, act as a devout follower. Learn their weaknesses. Formulate the plan to eradicate.
But even you were getting restless as Miranda kept up the same spiel. Her plans never change, she never acts out of her facade. It made you antsy. You need to see them all fall in your lifetime. You would make your ancestors proud by being the one to take it all for yourselves.
You saw the perfect opportunity much to your mothers dismay due to your condition. Having any sort of ailment was like a moth to a flame with Miranda you’ve noticed. Once you had convinced her that you were so devoted, so desperate you would sacrifice yourself to her dark gift you had succeeded further than any Acheron before you. No, you mustn’t stop now. Not when you were so clo-….
The sound of the goddess’s voice startles you out of your thoughts, causing an eruption of laughter from that same greasy man from earlier. He’s quickly berated by the monolith of a woman Lady Dimitrescu who stares down at you as she does, but not because she cared about you.
“Enough, Karl..” Miranda hisses, siliencing the both of them as she steps down from her stage, walking towards you with a surprisingly feather light step for a predator.
“Wait ails you little bird? Are you feeling alright?” She asks in a sickingly sweet voice that leaves honey on your own. You hated the blatant infantilizion in front of the others. Her sharp nail guards feel like ice as she grips your face awaiting your answer, staring down at you with those equally icey eyes.
“Just feeling more sickly today than usual, Mother” you lie effortlessly to her, making her give in to your plan unknowingly with that practiced tremble in your tone.
“I know little bird..” she whispers, turning your head side to side in her grip, “That will all be over after tonight”
Despite being part of the plan, you were still very nervous. To be truthful you didn’t think this far ahead, only because you really couldn’t if you tried.
The dark gift affected each Lord differently. Many other subjects have fallen to it, dying before they even start mutating. Your chances of survival will be a hit or a miss, but the opportunities you could take if you lived outweighed all of it.
So you give her a shy smile and nod your head, clasping to her forearm in a facade of comfort and gratitude.
It should have stopped there. Your plan had been running smoothly right up until this moment when a huge wall comes crashing down in front of it’s path due to a certain Lord.
“She is not loyal, Mother.”
Everyone in the room turned their heads to the raspy voice rarely heard outside the lips of her rotten doll, who seemed more preoccupied with the strings on her tiny dress instead of conversation.
“I beg your pardon, Donna?” Miranda asks with a hint of annoyance in her tone, angry at her youngest freak for ruining the moment with her new experiment.
The phantom woman doesn’t budge for a moment until she gets the strength to turn her head towards you.
“Lady Acheron has not been truthful with you, Mother. Nor to all of us..our great family” Lady Beneviento says in a ghostly manner, making your skin crawl as your nails dig into the arms of your chair. Was it possible she found evidence on you? You were always so careful…there’s no way. Unless she used those evil mind tricks to-…
“Do you take me for a fool, Donna?” Miranda snaps, making both Donna and yourself scoot backwards into your chairs.
“The Acherons have been devoted to our great family for centuries, Child. They have no reason to stab our backs.” Miranda says as she turns to face you, expecting you to confirm her statement as true. If only you didn’t hesitate..
White eyes widen as her claws dig into your cheeks before pushing you away, catching your suspicious reaction and finding it worthy of investigating.
Much to your dismay however, was the way she planned on carrying it out.
You were to live, indefinitely, with the Lord who just upped herself on your hit list.
Two full weeks had passed since and you have yet to have the opportunity to investigate Lady Beneviento. Not only did this set back your plan of getting the dark gift, but now you were being watched like a..well, a crow. You suspect your family has since declared you dead, still believing you received it and not making it. Not like you could exactly tell them seeing as you had no way to contact them or anyone else here.
You did feel like life has ended however as you wandered down the same hallway you just came from. Realizing you were under a hallucination the third time around this never ending maze, your eyes make contact with the same painting on the wall with a sigh. But you were bored, and unfortunately lonely, so you kept walking regardless of the consequences.
Getting used to Lady Beneviento’s powers was a challenge at first. You were trained for this though, and soon was able to think clearly even in a intoxicated state by the third night. But something was different about this one, you could feel it as you walk towards the new doors along your path, a strange melody coming from behind them.
Pressing your ear up to the dark wood you hear someone who had yet to appear in your hallucinations. The one causing them.
You make the mistake of leaning too hard against the door making it creak from its old age, causing dream Donna to gasp and freeze in her tracks as you fall into the room.
“What are you doing in here?! Get out!” The phantom lady hisses at you, pointing at you as if her finger was a knife.
You stumble a little as you regain your composure, feeling a bit of confidence in knowing she wasn’t really there as you take a deep breath.
“I would if I could, but you won’t let me out of my own head. You should be the one to get. out” you snarl through clenched teeth, tilting your head to the side mockingly as you approach her.
She quickly shuffles around the desk, putting a barrier between the two of you. You squint at that, feeling geniune fear coming from her as you stop walking.
A hallucination wouldn’t do that, they know they can’t actually be harmed..
“You’re really here.. aren’t you?” You ask quietly, feeling an unwelcome feeling in your chest.
She hesitates to nod her head, her shoulders dropping in a form of relief. You’re terrified to be alone with the real her because she could interrogate you, prove herself to Miranda that she was right about you.. a traitor. All your hard work would be for nothing.
But the constant isolation in this house has made you grow wary. The need for companionship gnawed it’s jagged teeth into the back of your neck. And besides, you could turn this in your favor as well if you played the cards right..
“Please don’t make me go under again..” You ask in a practiced breathy tremble, giving her your best heartbroken expression.
Her feet shift against the floor as her chest moves off balance, her hand gripping onto the chair with white knuckles before taking a seat in it.
Why are you so nervous, Lady Beneviento? You note in your head, keeping up the facade by sitting in the chair opposite of her. She fidgets with the end of her veil, an uneasy silence falling between the two of you alone in that room.
It at least gave you time to scan said room, noting that it looked like an office and a workshop. You shiver a little upon seeing the various doll and mannequin parts hanging from the ceiling, and instead refocus on your target.
“I’m sorry..” Her gentle rasp disrupts the quiet, making you flinch in your seat.
“I’m not used to..guests” she finishes, speech being broken from little use.
“You mean you’re not used to guests living” you correct her in a wave of spite, immediately regretting your decision when her veiled head tilts.
“I thought it wasn’t an issue per our family’s contract what I do with my guests, Lady Acheron. I see that it strikes a nerve with you, why is that?” she asks darkly, leaning forward across the desk like a cat ready to pounce. It made your stomach churn but you kept calm despite your slip up.
Instead you opt for the more sympathetic approach, letting the tears flood your eyes and lowering your eyes to your lap so they fall.
“I’m just scared..I don’t understand why you’re doing this when I need help. I devote myself to Mother Miranda since birth, and yet you all still despise me. And now I’m stuck here with you knowing that you hate me and I feel so alone..” you ramble on between sobs, feeling too in character when your own words hurt to speak.
You hadn’t registered her hand had slipped on top of yours until you move it to wipe your eyes, making you both gasp and sit back into your chairs.
“I’m sorry…” she mutters, folding her hands into her lap instead.
“I just.. I do not hate you. I am not like my siblings” she whispers, but it’s loud enough for you to hear.
Surely this was just a mind trick, she was known for them after all. Right?
“You do not hate me, yet you lied to Mother Miranda and ruined my chances of being cured” you say plainly, mimicking her by folding your hands into your lap.
“You knew you didn’t have evidence on me, but you did it anyway. Why?” You ask, noticing all her physical tells of nervousness and she thinks of an answer.
Which card would she pull next in this little game?
“You wouldn’t be cured” The phantom woman rasps under her veil, her voice not matching her nervous body language.
“What?” You snap back at her, but she doesn’t flinch and that worries you. She’s being serious…
“You think you know me, don’t you? You think you have the cult all figured out. You plan on eliminating us” she continues, her tone increasing in volume making sweat dampen your palms. If this is how you’ll get answers then so be it.
“…But you don’t know what you’re really up against. You will die the second you try anything and that is not only a promise it is a warning” Donna growls as she leans closer again. You can almost feel her gaze under that dark fabric.
“The cadou is not stable. It’s unreliable and she knows it. You would either die from it, or you would die for it. Once you survive you will be indebted to it. To her.”
The last of her words crack, and you get the feeling she’s talking about her own experience to solidify her warning. You know you shouldn’t trust her, but you want to. You don’t know why, but you crave to.
She could give you everything you needed to know, but there was another desire in you because of it. The latter shattered a great deal of how you felt about the lords and their ties Mother Miranda..
“So what do you suppose I do, hm? Because either way I will die. My illness is only getting worse, Lady Beneviento. You worship the ground Mother Miranda touches just as we all do, yet you benefit the most from it. I’m starting to wonder if you worry your status will lessen if I join the ranks..” you scoff, egging her on to slip up on accident if she was lying.
“I won’t let her hurt another!” She screams as her hands hit the desk, making you jump back deep into your chair at the sudden outburst.
“W-what..” you gasp but she interrupts,
“We were so close.. so close” she groans to herself, putting her hands up to her head as if it pained her.
“What do you mean?” You ask a little more clearly, watching her pace back and forth behind the desk as you heart beats rapidly in your chest.
“We had it all planned out. She has become too powerful.. she could care less about us..” She rants as she paces.
“The night we planned to kill her was thwarted all because of a baby. Instead of going to the chapel for our meeting, she had flew off to welcome the brat into the world. Bless it or whatever myth you humans believe her to do..” she rasps before pointing a finger down at you.
“You were born sick. She knew you were the perfect vessel for her true daughter. We couldn’t interfere with you..she worried we would let it slip” she continues, letting out a small laugh of disbelief once she realizes she did exactly that, and that made you feel ill.
The Lords wanted Miranda dead. They didn’t want you around because they knew what their leader wanted to do to you, and if she succeeded she would be even more dangerous to them. Harder for them to defeat.
“We want her dead, too..” you whisper, feeling exposed the second her head turns towards you again. An unnerving silence falls back between the two of you before the air shifts into something far worse.
Was she really on your side,
Or was it all a mind trick?
I’m not sure if I like how I fleshed the characters out just yet, unfortunately without my meds my work tends to be more scattered :( let me know what you think! Is Donna telling the truth? What’s your theories about readers “illness”?
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