#holy moly motherhood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisgirlnamedblusy · 3 months ago

Note

Holy moly, your last story had me feeling feelings.

The sentence about the unborn baby being jealous got me thinking tho, what if their kid inherited some of Donna's possessive traits, like always wanting to be by y/n's side, much to the chagrin of poor Donna, who hasn't been able to cuddle reader at night without a (sometimes two) little body wiggling into their bed. And as their daughter grows, she kinda sees Donna as a threat, someone who takes her moms attention away. Donna doesn't rightly know how to deal with the feeling of love for her child, and annoyance at not having reader for themselves.

UNTIL one day when reader and child is taking a walk through the forest, and a couple of men comes up and threatens them, only for mama Donna to turn up and rescue them. Both Donna and her daughter have a revelation that day: Donna from how scared she would be if anything happened to both her love and her child, and daughter from how she now sees Donna as her mama too, who would always protect and love her. And they make an unspoken pact about protecting reader always xD

You don't have to write this if you don't want to, I just got the mama Donna brainrot lol

Thanks for feeding us starving queers some quality Donna content

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request! I'm glad to read you enjoyed that one!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

A long road to motherhood

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna (implied), slightly dark themes, Donna's POV

Word count: 7,112

Summary: How I can be jealous of my own daughter?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! This is a sequel to this one!!! I love you all!!! :))

As they say, time heals wounds.

After almost losing you, after seeing how life became more and more distant from your sight, I was able to get you back.

A miracle, the sign that my sins were forgiven, I couldn't say what exactly it was. I have always thought that coincidence doesn’t exist, even when I met you, a bad deed that was rewarded, a trip to hell of having you immobile in a bed. I could never forget the two weeks when I almost lost you, when my whole world almost collapsed, because of me.

But no, life stopped torturing me, you woke up, you woke up wanting to make me feel good, to forgive me, to continue loving me as I didn't think you did.

If I had to keep a memory in my mind, only one, I would choose the moment in which I turned my head and saw your eyes open, your sweet look from that stretcher, life shining in your eyes again, looking at me.

I made an effort not to torture myself, to not let the nightmares make my nights impossible. It could be because I was still mentally ill, I couldn't separate myself from what life had given me, but I had to be strong. It was no longer you and me. There was someone, someone much more important to care for, someone to fight day and night for with my demons, with my jealousy, with my stupid and sick way of being: our daughter, Giovanna.

Born from my mistakes, from my pathological possessiveness, that girl represented everything pure that was missing in my life. My family, our family had been formed thanks to the biggest mistake of my life, thanks to that horrible afternoon in which I took what I thought was mine.

Luckily, the girl kept me away from your screams of terror, from the way you resisted my actions. Little by little I began to forget it, especially when I saw that childish smile in the girl's eyes. She had no hard feelings. If her birth was a mistake, it would be the best one in my life.

Maybe not the way she was conceived, but I could feel proud of the change that little Giovanna Beneviento made in our lives. I almost lost you because of my selfishness, but I got you back because... Well, I couldn't say why exactly. Maybe you forgave me, maybe you never could. I didn't know, with you it was impossible to know.

The years passed, the girl grew up and with her everything we had formed by chance, because of me, settled into routine, like a new way of living, of caring, of loving...

“Asleep,” you said amused, entering the bedroom, closing the door, wearing that smile on your face, the one I didn't think I deserved.

Luck smiles on the wicked, it smiled on me, the luck of having you, of having you and our daughter. I was not worthy of such honor, such light that had appeared in the darkness of my life.

“She’s alright?” I asked, getting under the covers. You nodded, motioning with your thumb, joining me.

“Yes, she's with Angie,” you answered, kissing me quickly. I frowned, with an amused look.

“That doesn't answer my question,” I whispered, kissing her shoulder, thanking with my lips that you never left, that all my flaws seemed like just an illusion to you.

“Well, I told her the story of the princess and the eel, it is her favorite,” you said with an interesting look. I shook my head, laughing at that attitude you had, that attitude that didn't disappear even in your worst moments. I didn't deserve you.

“The princess and the frog,” I corrected, narrowing my eye, with a sinister smile. You laughed, disapproving of my correction with a wave of your hand and a tired sigh.

“No, no, Donna,” you whispered, with a mocking tone. “You heard me correctly. Eel.”

“What difference does it make?” I asked curiously, admiring your imagination, your ability to make Giovanna fall asleep every night with those made-up stories. Only you could do it.

“Oh, I'm glad you’ve asked me...” you whispered, darkening your voice, making me pay more attention to you. “Well, when the princess kisses the toad, it becomes a prince, right?”

I nodded, listening to you with curiosity, trying not to let my eye go to the scar on your arm, the one that showed the worst two weeks of my life, the ones in which I was on the verge of losing you, because of me.

“Well, in my story, when the princess kisses the eel, the prize is… an electric tickle attack!” you said loudly, attacking me mercilessly, running over my body with your restless hands, making me laugh involuntarily.

“(Y/N)...” I said, grabbing your wrists to end your torture.

“Do you like my story?” you asked, climbing onto my lap, with that shine in your eyes that made me tremble, get excited. You were so perfect, so sweet... So... Fiery.

“Is that the end?” I asked, hugging your body, keeping it close to mine, rocking it. You pretended to think about the answer, which came in the form of a tender, but hot kiss on my lips, one that made me sigh.

“Well, that's the all-audiences ending,” you purred in my ear, forcing my hands to scratch the fabric of your pajamas as a result of the subtle but perceptible movement of your hips against mine.

“Is there an alternative ending?” I asked with a low voice, impatiently putting my hand in your pants, keeping your gaze, which drifted to my lap while you nodded.

“Yes, but it can't be told,” you whispered, reacting to my touch with erratic movements of your body.

“Maybe you can show it to me,” I said, with a smile close to your lips, noticing your nervous breathing, your desire to love me once again, to let yourself be loved, this time for real, that time without arguments, without terrible ideas going through my head.

“Maybe I can,” you whispered, melting into me in a passionate, hot, wet kiss, dancing with my body, caressing my hair, my back, comically fighting with your pajamas so they would disappear from our path.

“Mom, mom!” a shrill voice sounded behind the door, causing you to move, to turn away from me with scared eyes.

Small steps approached the bed and with the strength that a 6 year old girl could have, Giovanna climbed up to meet us.

“Gio, what are you doing here?” you asked, your face blushing. “Why did you get up?”

“I've had a nightmare...” the girl murmured, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, with a strange feeling that made me raise my eyebrow.

“Oh, a nightmare?” you said, taking the girl in her arms. “You just fell asleep, darling.”

“Yes, but I had the nightmare,” she said, looking away. Was she lying?

“Oh, poor Gio, the evil monsters again?” you asked with a tender voice, placing the little girl between the two of us.

I couldn't help but sigh tiredly. It might seem like a tender moment, a moment when our daughter needed that coveted motherly love. Well, it could be like that, but I knew it wasn't.

When she was born, she was a good baby, who cried like a normal baby, who let herself be rocked, who fell asleep in my arms. That changed over the years. Somehow, as if she had noticed the absence of her mother in the first moments of her life, she could no longer live without her.

Always with you, the girl was always with you, she cooked with you, she bathed with you, and, of course, she slept with you.

The nights stopped being a small bastion of intimacy between us when Giovanna had enough capacity to reason. Sometimes I thought she did it on purpose, to annoy me. She couldn't think that way. I really was trying not to think that way.

“Yes, mom...” the little girl sighed, causing another hug from you and a look of helplessness that you gave me over your shoulder. “Can I sleep here?”

“No, tesoro,” I said, taking the girl in my arms, in a furious outburst at that interruption.

I wouldn't have acted like that if it hadn't been the countless times it happened. “Come on, let's put you to bed.”

“No! I want to stay with mom,” the girl protested, breaking free from my grip, crawling comically across the bed to reach your arms. You laughed, shaking your head.

“(Y/N), tell her something,” I said, showing clear displeasure at the situation. My patience grew as the girl did, but lately it was slowing down, maybe too fast.

You shrugged, hugging our daughter, who seemed to be having another of her usual tantrums.

“Oh, come on, Donna, poor thing. It's okay. She can sleep with us,” you said, giving in to the little girl's emotional blackmail, to those fake tears that ran down her cheek.

“It's okay if it were the first time, (Y/N)” I said, sitting on the bed. “She has to learn to face her fears.”

“Mamma mean... Mom, mamma is mean...” Giovanna said, hanging on to your pajamas, looking at me with eyes that I wished I had never seen. They seemed full of hatred, irrational hatred. Why did she remind me so much of me?

“No, don't say that, honey, mommy Donna isn't mean, she cares about you,” you sighed, cradling the little girl in your arms.

I laughed nervously and crossed my arms, shaking my head. Despised by my own daughter, was this the punishment that awaited me for my horrible acts?

“Well, then she has to let me sleep with you,” the girl said, without bothering to look at my face.

“She's going to do it, right, Donna?” you asked, looking at me. I couldn't do anything else. I had to nod in defeat, for my own daughter.

“Oh, okay,” I huffed, getting under the covers.

I looked at the girl, the girl looked at me and did something that made me sit up again. Her face radiated the sweet taste of victory, sticking her tongue out at me mockingly.

“Hey!” I protested, annoyed by that unpleasant gesture. “(Y/N), the girl stuck her tongue out at me.”

“Oh, come on, stop it and let's go to sleep,” you said tiredly, turning off the light on the table, enveloping the room in the deepest darkness.

I wanted to protest again, to punish Giovanna for treating me that way, but I did nothing, as always. I just crossed my arms again, pressed against the edge of the bed.

Silence finally reigned in my head, and in my ears. Frustrated and nervous, I thought about everything that was happening, about my daughter's unfair attitude towards me. You said that perhaps she had inherited that possessiveness.

I trembled to think that it could be that way.

Of all my flaws, that was the worst. Just thinking that my daughter could become someone like me... My entire body trembled with terror at that idea, my stomach clenched as I imagined it. Giovanna had inherited almost all of my looks, that wasn't a bad thing. But that her mind worked like mine, that she thought she had to have you to herself...

No, that was something that horrified me, something I tried to ignore in each and every one of her tantrums.

With my eye open, thinking about that possibility, I spent part of the night, well, until a small foot hit me in the face, snapping me out of my own personal torture.

“Mamma, move, I don't have room,” the girl protested, causing me to grunt, pushing her small leg away with an angry gasp.

“You have plenty of room, Giovanna,” I said with a serious voice, perhaps too serious for such a young girl. She didn't seem to care and she continued kicking my body until she forced me to fall off the bed with a thud.

“Mamma, you fell,” my daughter whispered, with a malicious tone, with a tone I hated hearing.

A mocking laugh reached my ears. It wasn't the girl. It was you, (Y/N).

Did you really find it funny that my daughter looked down on me like that? My dark mind lurked in my thoughts, but I was stronger, at that moment I could control my impulses, although I didn't know for how long.

“Do you find it funny? Your daughter kicked me out of bed,” I said furiously, suddenly getting up from the floor.

“No, no, not at all,” you said, not knowing how to hide the mockery that appeared in your words.

I sighed again, running a hand through my hair, shaking my head.

“You know what? You can stay there, I'm leaving,” I said furiously, grabbing one of the cushions from the bed, leaving the room, stopped by your mocking hand on my wrist.

“Come on, Donna, stop acting like a child and go back to bed,” you said, your voice tired. I opened my eyes wide, offended by that reproach.

“Do I behave like a child?” I asked, with my hands on my hips. “Tell your daughter, she hasn't stopped until she kicked me out of bed and...”

“Donna, stop it,” you scolded me, leaving me glued to the wooden floor. “I don't know which of the two is more childish, really...” you sighed, turning around, letting me go.

I opened my mouth to say something, but my insides were churning furiously. I knew I was right, but I couldn't help but feel that it was internal rage, an uncontrolled rage that clouded my disturbed mind was the reason for all your suffering. I would never hurt you again, (Y/N), ever again.

“Buoa notte,” I whispered before disappearing down the hallway, walking towards the office.

Lying back on that old sofa, I thought about whether all of that was really a punishment, if the happiness I felt from having you next to me, from having a family, was just the illusion of reward, instead of a macabre game of hell itself.

“Hello, hello, hello, exiled again?” a familiar, too familiar voice asked, Angie, who entered the office with an amused step.

“What do you think?” I asked, settling down on that horrible sofa, looking away from that annoying doll. “If you did your job well…”

“What job?” the doll asked, jumping into my stomach, with a maddening voice that I didn't need to hear.

“Giovanna has had nightmares again,” I commented in a low voice, forcing Angie to get off my body, turning around, trying not to stick the wood of that sofa that little by little was becoming my new bed.

“Oh, I didn't know,” she muttered, climbing up again, just to annoy me. Why would my own conscience want to annoy me? It seemed like everyone was against me, as always.

“You didn’t know? You sleep with her,” I said incredulously, suspecting something I already knew. Angie shrugged, shaking her head from side to side. “Piccola bugiarda…”

“Don't blame her. She wants to be with her mother,” the doll said, downplaying the fact that my daughter was a little liar, something admirable at her age, but equally irritating.

“I'm her mother too,” I protested, sitting up, saying out loud a truth that my own daughter seemed to deny from the moment she said her first word, from the moment she decided not to separate from you.

“That's quite obvious,” Angie murmured, making me roll my eye and cross my arms, pressing my nails into my skin.

“But it seems like I’m not... Giovanna doesn't see me as such,” I said with a lower voice. “Cazzo, Angie, I can't even spend a moment with (Y/N) alone...”

“Oh...” the puppet sighed, forcing me to look at her. “I don't think you're jealous of your own daughter, Donna.”

“What? Of course I’m not,” I said immediately, separating that possibility from my head, the possibility that had been tormenting me for some time.

“Well, it seems like it,” Angie rebuked, earning a strong push from me to took her off the couch.

“Don’t say nonsense. I'm sure it's a phase or something...” I muttered, grabbing the cushion to channel my anger into that piece of fabric instead of losing my nerve.

I hadn't lost my mind for too long, I wanted you to be proud of me.

“Well, well, what you want is to be alone with (Y/N) to make more babies to get on my nerves,” the irreverent puppet commented.

I huffed tiredly. Of course, Angie was part of me. She was just as possessive and jealous as me, as Giovanna...

“You don't understand,” I said in a dark tone, looking away from her. “I adore our daughter but I would like to have time for (Y/N) and me and… Besides, I'm afraid of…”

“Of what, Donna?”

“I’m afraid of Giovanna being like me”

That night I barely slept. The erratic thoughts in my head wandered freely thanks to the lack of your body hugging mine, your heat dissipating my demons. No, I couldn't be jealous of Giovanna, I couldn't feel hatred towards the person I loved most in the world. Or maybe I can, I didn't know, I was incapable of controlling everything that was going through my head, I was incapable of not seeing myself in my daughter's hateful glances.

“Good morning, darling...” your soft voice, your caresses on my hair woke me up from my recurring nightmares, some in which my old self took control of my actions, some in which I hurt you, again. “Have you been able to sleep?”

“Yes, well, I'm used to that horrible couch,” I murmured, yawning, sitting up to return those precious caresses, that kiss that I wanted to give you to calm my senses.

“Donna,” you sighed, with a sad look, lack of that fun that always guided your life. “Come on, don't be mad.”

“I'm not mad,” I said defensively, bringing my knees to my chest. “How did the little princess sleep?” I asked, unable to prevent irony from coating my words.

“Well, well, it seems like she doesn't have nightmares anymore,” you commented, oblivious to the mockery of my question, or rather, wanting to be oblivious to it.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, shaking my head, with a fake smile on my face.

“Don't be like that with Gio, she's a little girl, it's normal that she wants to be with her mother,” you explained, never ceasing in your attempt to calm me down with your caresses.

I wish it had been that easy from the beginning, I wish your love could have put an end to my jealousy.

“With you, of course,” I murmured angrily, squeezing my fist tightly, a fist you grabbed, undoing its shape before it hurt me, again.

“Don't have a hard time, my love. You know what Giovanna is like, she's like…”

“Like me,” I interrupted, making you sigh intensely and lower your gaze. That was what you were going to say, it doesn't matter if you denied it.

“Yes, but not in the way you're thinking,” you said, lying, I could see it in your eyes, you were lying.

Liar

“I need to take a shower,” you commented, leaving aside that interesting and dangerous topic of conversation. “Why don't you give the girl breakfast? So you spend some time together.”

“She’s going to to bite me,” I murmured, unintentionally earning another of your tender laughs, another of your quick kisses on the lips, caresses and kisses I never deserved.

“Stop protesting and act like a mother,” you said amused, leaving the office.

I growled, uncovering myself and going to look for that little monster.

“Come on, Giovanna, drink the milk...” I said, tired of the girl's obvious refusal.

Already dressed, I prepared to fulfill the task you gave me, bathing the little girl and giving her breakfast. To say it was easy was a dirty liar. It was not.

Giovanna's protests grated in my ears. She loved her mother, she loved you.

“I don't want to, where is mom?” Giovanna asked, in a childlike posture, crossing her arms and dodging each of my attempts to bring the glass to her mouth.

“Mom is taking a shower, come on, obey,” I said, already tired from that infernal bath, from the kicks and punches of protest from my daughter, from our daughter. If she didn't look so much like me, I'd think she was just yours.

“I don't want to,” the girl said, looking at me proudly. I snorted, getting angry.

“Giovanna...” I hissed threateningly, sternly. She shook her head. “Come on, don't make it more difficult for me.”

“What have you done to mom?” she asked, leaving me stunned, leaving me breathless because of that horrible accusation.

“What are you talking about, tesoro?” I asked incredulously at those words, at that question. Did she remember she existed because I forced you to? It didn't seem possible.

“Mom's not here, I'm sure it's your fault,” the girl repeated, without looking at my face, gracefully avoiding my attempts to get her to eat breakfast.

“Don't talk nonsense and have breakfast at once,” I said tiredly, ignoring that horrible accusation.

“I don't want to, I want mom to come,” Giovanna said, kicking in the chair, threatening with another tantrum.

“I told you... Mom is taking a shower,” I whispered, losing my patience. “Eat breakfast or I won't let you play with Angie.”

Apparently, the threat of punishment had an effect. The girl clumsily picked up the glass, drinking some milk. I sighed in relief, but not for long. With a mocking sound, the milk in her mouth shot into the worst possible place, into my face.

I blinked in shock at this evil act and tried to ignore the boisterous laughter of the Angie doll, who seemed to be writhing on the floor, amused at my expense.

“It's over, you're punished,” I said furiously, grabbing the little girl's arm, who protested with an exaggerated scream.

“Let me go! Mom!” the little girl yelled, disconsolately calling her mother, calling you, her savior.

“Stai zitto, Giovanna,” I said furiously with a dark voice, but maintaining my composure, wiping my face.

“Lasciami in pace!” she screeched in response, moving erratically.

“Io sono la tua mamma, ascoltami, Giovanna...” I whispered, stopping that protest as best I could, being totally incapable.

“Tu non sei la mia mamma, sei una stupida!” she screamed, insulting me, making it clear that she didn't love me, that she only loved you.

That was a hard blow for my fragile mind, too hard.

“Hey, hey...” your voice resonated to calm that bloody battle, appearing from the hallway with a gaze fixed on the girl, with a frown. “What's going on here? If you're going to fight, at least do it in my language, will you?”

“Your daughter, (Y/N), that's what's happening,” I said furiously, unable to get rid of the strong accent that anger made me have. You approached, shaking your head, running a hand through my hair.

“What happened to you? Has a cow fallen on your face?” you joked, making the girl laugh in amusement, being picked up by your protective arms.

I didn't know what to say, I simply tried to fight against my wounded heart, against the tears that threatened to slide down my cheek.

With a growl, I walked away from you, quickly, ignoring your calls.

“Donna! Hey, Donna! Come here,” you shouted, calling me. I turned to look at you, but I could only see the girl's triumphant eyes, ones that almost made me lose control.

I ignored your screams, going down to the basement, running quickly towards my room, containing the rage that was beginning to build up in my fists.

Furious, I kicked a chair, kicked the bed, and pulled my hair. The situation was unbearable but... No, I couldn't lose my mind in front of you, of our daughter. I couldn't go back to being that evil woman who ruined your life, the one who forced you through her deranged mind. I didn't want it to come back, but I couldn't stop it.

“Maledizione!” I shouted, releasing all my anger in a punch that hit the mirror of the old dresser. Blood flowed from my hand. The pain was intense, but not compared to the damage to my delicate, sensitive, sick heart...

How to deal with the love I felt for you, and for my daughter? How to handle those horrible feelings that haunted me? I loved Giovanna. I loved her more than my own life, even if she didn't feel the same way.

Jealousy, possessiveness, yes, there was no longer any doubt, it was my fault. Giovanna was born for that reason. She came into the world because of my pathetic and crazy obsession with keeping you by my side. Just as it happened with me, it happened with her. My desire not to lose you, to keep you close to me had passed to Giovanna, turning her into my reflection, into an adorable version of the monster that I considered myself to be.

The situation was getting out of control. I should never have been a mother, I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to have you by my side. Your words, the love you said you felt for me were no longer enough.

That was my punishment for keeping you. That was my punishment for all the harm I did to you, creating something wonderful, a beautiful daughter, only for me to be nothing to her, just a nuisance, a threat that stood between her mother and her.

I looked at the blood that flowed from my knuckles, that blood that reminded me that I was still a human being. I shook my head, I buried it in my arms and there, in the solitude of my room, far from my family, far from the most important things in the world for me, I cried inconsolably.

“Quando ci vuole, ci vuole, mm?” I repeated that phrase looking at myself in the broken mirror, demanding a bit of fortitude from myself, gaining enough strength to get up and return to your side.

No matter how hard the path was, my duty was to walk along it. That was my penance.

“You shouldn't treat mommy that way, honey... She loves you very much.” Your voice caught my attention, making me hide before revealing myself again.

“She doesn't love me, she just wants to take me away from you,” the girl said, sobbing. That made me squirm again, but I managed to stay calm.

“No, that's not true, darling. Donna would do anything for you, for us… Remember how she made you Mrs. Freckles? She's your favorite doll, right?” you asked, giving Giovanna that doll, one that I made her when she was three years old, when she didn't hate me.

“Yes...” Giovanna said, hugging the doll tightly. That was the closest I'd come to her to give me some love the last two years. I cried again thinking about it.

“Besides, you don't remember but... Thanks to your mom, you're healthy and strong now, I'm sure you didn't know that,” you commented, with a soft voice, cradling the girl, calming her tantrum.

Giovanna shook her head, curious.

“I don't remember,” she said, with her hand on her mouth, in an adorable way. Well, at least it made me smile.

“Of course not, you had just been born and I... Well, I got very, very sick... I couldn't take care of you, but do you know who did?” you asked, with a voice similar to the one you used when you told her a story.

The girl shook her head.

“Donna, your mommy, she took care of you until I got well again. She fed you, changed your diaper, sang lullabies to you to make you fall asleep...” You explained, making the knot in my stomach grow stronger. I didn't want to remember those two weeks, I didn't want to.

“Mamma Donna?” the girl asked, lowering her gaze.

“Yes, honey, she was very kind to you, you should be a good girl and return her favor, don't you think?” you said, with a softer voice.

The girl seemed to think about it, but finally, just as I suspected, she shook her head.

“Go to play with Angie, okay?” you said when you looked at me out of the corner of your eye, when you realized my presence. “Then we could take a walk in the forest, would you like to?”

“Yes, yes, a walk!” Giovanna said, excited about the idea, running around the room, passing by me without even looking at me.

“Donna, darling,” you sighed, walking slowly towards me, looking down at my wound, still bleeding. “Oh, my love… Have you hurt yourself again?”

I nodded, trying not to look at her, feeling ashamed, feeling that I was the monster you seemed to fall in love with once again.

“Gods, what have you done? Come, let's heal you,” you sighed, with that look you had when my mind went crazy, something that hadn't happened for too long.

Slowly, with a sad look, you bandaged my wound, not wanting to say anything, looking at me from time to time, with pity, thinking you had lost me again.

“Giovanna said I wasn't her mother,” I murmured while you worked on my wound. You looked at me, sighing, closing the bandage around my hand, holding it in yours.

“Don't pay attention to her, she's a little girl. You know that children say a lot of nonsense,” you commented, lifting my chin so you could see my face damaged by crying.

“It's not nonsense,” I said, furious again.

"Of course it is. Giovanna loves you, even if she doesn't tell you, I know,” you said in a soft tone, trying to convince me to abandon that shameful jealousy, that lack of your love that girl was forcing me to feel.

“You think so?” I said, turning around, looking on the coffee table for one of the many drawings my daughter made and showing it to you superbly. “Where am I here?”

“Oh, well...” you said, taking the sheet of paper, looking at the figures of Giovanna, Angie and you. “Oh, look, here you are,” you said smiling, pointing to a small black figure in the corner of the paper. I raised my eyebrows.

“There are lint in this house bigger than that black stain,” I said ironically, becoming defensive again.

“That black stain is you,” you joked, nudging me. I looked at you with a burning gaze, making you step back.

“Exactly, I'm just a black stain in our daughter's life, and in your life,” I murmured, looking away.

“No, that's not true, you know I love you very much Donna. You know that I...” you said, almost begging for me to listen to you, too late.

“I have to work on my dolls,” I said, getting up from the couch, rubbing the bandaged wound on my hand. “Thank you for healing me.”

“Donna, honey, wait...”

Nothing you said could be enough to calm the tide of my dark thoughts.

Just a black stain, a monster that wanted to separate my daughter from her mother, that was me in that family, nothing else.

“We'll be back before it gets dark,” you said, kissing me on the cheek as you said goodbye, heading out the door. “Come on, Gio, give mommy a kiss,” you ordered the girl, who was tugging impatiently at your dress.

“I don't want to,” the girl murmured, taking refuge between your legs. “Come on, mom, come on.”

You looked at me, apologizing for her, I shook my head. Not even Angie stayed with me.

With nothing better to do, I leaned on the porch railing, watching you walk away, letting my mind think that this might be the last time I saw you. In my hands, I held the black veil with which I used to cover my face, imagining a fleeting hope that would allow me to go with you.

I'm just stupid, like my daughter said. I didn't deserve the fantastic family I had. I never did it, it was all my fault.

“Look, Donna, what a kick... It's incredible...”

“Do you think we should paint the room? It's a bit dull for a girl, or a boy...”

“I want to see what it's like...”

As I looked somewhere I didn't notice, I remembered those moments, those horrible moments of your pregnancy, horrible, yes, but also tender, adorable. I was to blame for your suffering and your smiles. The harm that little Giovanna did to you was the first of my punishments.

I sighed, letting a tear fall onto the wooden floor, shaking my head, denying myself the truth of a terrible thought. You would be much better off without me.

“Donna, Donna!” A shrill voice derived that horrible thought from my head. My Angie doll appeared from the trees, clumsily running towards me.

“Angie? What's going on?” I asked, shaking my head as I ran to pick up the puppet, who was panting comically from that impromptu run.

“(Y/N), (Y/N) and Gio are in trouble, you have to help them, quickly!” the doll shouted, pulling the fabric of my dress. I, scared by that phrase, calmed the puppet by shaking it so it would stop babbling.

“What? In trouble?” I asked scared, with my body trembling with fear.

“Some bad men have trapped them in the forest, you have to do something, run, run!”

Frightened by that revelation, I put the black veil over my face, lowering the doll to the ground. My gaze darkened.

Nobody touches my family.

“Okay, take me there, Angie,” I whispered.

The doll nodded and led me by the hand into the depths of the forest.

“Do you want to stay still, you damn brat?” A deep voice reached my ears. This horrible vision appeared behind some bushes.

Two men, probably from the village, were holding my daughter, holding you in the same way while you kicked, trying unsuccessfully to get out of their grasp.

“Ah! Damn! She has bitten me!” The fatter one yelled, protesting against Giovanna's surprising attack against his hand.

“Let my mom go, you silly! Let her go!” the girl shouted, now in the arms of that evil man.

“Damn child!” the other man shouted, trying to keep you still.

“Gio!” you screamed, watching how the girl kicked tirelessly. My whole body burned with rage. “Let her go, you asshole, she's a child!”

“I will if you give me what I want, young lady,” the bandit murmured.

“I already told you that we don't have money!” you screamed again, growling, fighting with the hands that went to your neck.

“I think so, look at that girl's doll, it must be worth a lot of lei...”

“No, Mrs. Freckles!” Giovanna yelled, when that vermin snatched her doll.

“You're screwing up quite well... You don't know where you've gotten yourself,” you growled, your eyes burning with helplessness.

I couldn't take it anymore.

“Mamma!” Giovanna said when I, with a calm, threatening step, appeared from the shadows.

“Ah!” the fat man shouted, receiving a well-deserved kick in the crotch from my daughter, something that made me smile.

“Damn... What the hell...?” the man murmured, now moaning in pain, while I picked up my frightened daughter in my arms.

“Oliver, look who she is...” the man holding you said, pointing at me, who was trying to comfort the little girl's crying.

“Oh, shit...” the fat man sighed, eyes wide open, kneeling in the snow. “Lady Beneviento…”

I didn't say anything, I just sighed, cradling my daughter who, for once, clung to me disconsolately.

“Donna,” you whispered, with a triumphant smile.

“Greg, I think you should let the girl go,” the kneeling man said. His friend, unfortunately for him, didn’t seem to pay attention to him.

“Are you stupid? She can't hurt us, she's just a nutcase,” his partner said, with a crazy look, putting a knife to your neck. “Don’t, don't move or the girl dies.”

“Greg, no...” the fat man said, pulling on his partner's clothes.

“Are you a coward or what's wrong with you?” this Greg guy snapped, smiling in a horrible way, holding the sharp blade to your delicate neck. “One, one step back, you doll psychopath…”

Of course, I didn't obey.

“Don't insult her, dude... Don’t do it...” his partner lamented, closing his eyes and bowing his head.

“Get up, now we have the control. She won't do anything if she doesn't want the girl to get hurt,” that stupid man said, making me laugh. “Give us everything you have if you don't want us hurt her. I will do it, I swear...”

“No, you won't,” I whispered, extending my free hand toward them.

“Ah! Snakes!” the fat man shouted, rolling on the ground. “They are everywhere!”

The girl looked at me smiling curiously, just like you, who was no longer trembling.

“What do you say, Giovanna? What do you think can scare that stupid guy so much?” I asked amused, looking into the scared eyes of the man who was still holding you.

“Mmm,” the girl murmured, changing terror for amusement. “Coccodrilli!”

“I like it,” I said with a dark look, walking towards that man who was threatening you. His eyes changed to ones of terror, especially since his partner continued to struggle with his hallucinations.

“No, no, wait, wait,” he said, letting you go and putting his hands up. “It, it was a misunderstanding, I... Ah! It has torn off my arm!” He said horrified, when he finally succumbed to my powers.

You ran to my side, into my arms, with a smile of relief, the three of us watching that pitiful spectacle together.

“They’re everywhere!”

“It ripped off my leg! Help!”

I approached them slowly, putting a hand on your shoulder, holding little Giovanna in my arms.

“The next time you mess with my family I won't be pious,” I threatened, giving as much fear as I could, being that monster I hated so much being, to protect my family.

“That’s right!” the girl said “Fools!”

The rats fled at last, leaving a small moment of tension behind them.

“Gods, Donna, you showed up,” you whispered, removing the black cloth from my face, kissing me quickly and then our daughter. “Gio, are you okay?”

“Mrs. Freckles!” the girl screamed. I lowered her to the ground so she could run towards her doll, now with a broken arm.

“Don't worry, honey, Donna will fix it,” you said, you now being the one holding the girl, as expected. “Come on, let's go home…”

The way back was silent. Your hand in mine expressed gratitude, love, what I didn't think you felt for me. Even Giovanna's distrustful look seemed to change, looking at me embarrassedly over your shoulder, as if she were sad, or sorry for something.

The next day the routine continued, but not before talking at length about that incident. Miraculously, Giovanna didn’t seem to have nightmares that night and, surprisingly, according to you, excited by my bravery, you allowed me to make love to you, for the first time in many months.

That small release seemed to mark the beginning of a new stage, or maybe it was just that the girl was too sleepy to want to annoy me. I didn't know.

Like every day, I worked on my dolls, well, that time, on poor Mrs. Freckles, repairing her arm in silence, with the only sound of the workshop clock keeping me company.

A tug on my dress distracted me. I hadn't heard her, but my daughter had entered the workshop like a silent breeze. I assumed she wanted to check the state of Mrs. Freckles' injury.

“Mamma...” she murmured, with her head bowed. I sighed, smiling, pretending that I had no hard feelings, pretending I didn't care about her attitude toward me.

“What do you want, tesoro? She's almost fixed,” I murmured, looking at the doll again. The girl tugged at my dress again, now catching my attention.

Giovanna didn't say anything. She just moved her hands up, opening and closing her fists with a sad look, asking, surprisingly, to be held in my arms.

I, without hesitation, obeyed her silent request, sitting her on my lap while I fixed her favorite doll.

“Will she recover?” she asked, observing my work. I smiled sincerely, nodding.

“Of course,” I said, amused. “Mrs. Freckles is very brave, don't you think?”

Giovanna nodded profusely, with a hand on her mouth, a hand that I slowly withdrew, so I could see the precious daughter I conceived.

“You are also very brave,” she murmured, as if something was stopping her from saying that. I stopped sewing, looking at my daughter's sincere expression. “You saved us.”

“I only did what I had to do, tesoro, protect my family,” I said with a slightly serious tone, accommodating the girl in a more comfortable position.

“I have a gift for you...” Giovanna whispered, taking one of her little hands to the pocket of her dress and taking out a sheet of paper.

I picked it up slowly, frowning when I saw one of Giovanna's drawings. Mysteriously, I seemed to be the protagonist.

“Look, mamma, it's you, see?” she explained, pointing to my dark figure in the middle of the drawing, rising triumphantly over two evil bandits. “Look, that's mom and me, smiling because you saved us.”

“Giovanna, it's... Amazing...” I sighed, trying not to get too excited, looking over and over again at the surprising details of that drawing.

“You will always protect us, right?” she asked with a low voice, as if she was also about to cry.

“Of course, tesoro,” I said, wiping away a tear that finally ran down her cheek. “Mom and you are the most important things in my life.”

“And will we always be?” the girl asked, a little more worried.

“Always, my love,” I said, with a smile.

“Won't you let them hurt mom?” she asked again.

I shook my head.

“Never,” I said, with a more serious tone. Giovanna smiled and, with an unexpected gesture, jumped into my arms, hugging me tightly, with an affection that I could never imagine or deserve.

“I love you so much, mamma...” she whispered with a tender voice, finally making me emotional.

“I love you too, my beautiful girl...”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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