lj

It starts small.

You’re standing in the kitchen, hands resting on the counter, staring at nothing in particular. The light feels too bright. The room feels… off. Like it’s been copied slightly wrong. The edges of things blur just a little too much, sounds come from too far away, like you’re underwater.

You blink.

It doesn’t fix it.

Your fingers curl into the countertop, grounding yourself, but your body doesn’t quite feel like yours. Your chest tightens. Breathing feels strange. Too shallow. Too conscious.

Something’s wrong.

“…hey.”

Her voice cuts through it, low and steady.

Sevika doesn’t rush over. She never does. She just steps closer, slow enough not to startle you, sharp eyes already taking you in.

“You with me, honey?”

You try to answer. It comes out weak. “I… don’t feel right.”

That’s all she needs.

Her hand comes up, warm and heavy as it cups the back of your neck, anchoring you. Not forcing. Just there. Solid.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, softer now. “I’ve got you.”

She shifts closer, close enough that you can feel the heat of her body, the weight of her presence. One of her hands slides into yours, fingers threading through, squeezing just enough to be real.

“Look at me, baby,” she says, gentle but firm.

It takes effort, but you do.

Her face is clear. Grounded. Real.

“Good,” she says quietly. “Stay here. With me.”

Her thumb starts brushing slow circles against your hand, steady rhythm, something for your mind to latch onto.

“Tell me five things you can see.”

You hesitate. Your voice feels far away, but she waits. Doesn’t rush you.

“The… the table,” you manage. “The window. You. The… the sink. My hands.”

“Good,” she says again, like you’ve done something important. Because you have.

Her hand tightens slightly at the back of your neck, guiding your forehead gently toward hers.

“Four things you can feel.”

“Your hand,” you whisper. “The counter. My shirt. Your… your thumb.”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

Her voice stays low, even, like a tether pulling you back piece by piece.

She doesn’t let go. Doesn’t step away. If anything, she moves closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, lingering there.

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” she murmurs against your skin. “It’s just your brain being an asshole. It’ll pass.”

Your breathing starts to steady, slowly syncing with hers as she subtly guides it, her chest rising and falling against you.

“There you go,” she says when she feels it. “That’s better.”

Her hand slides from your neck to your cheek, rough thumb brushing soft across your skin, grounding in a different way now.

“Stay with me as long as you need, baby,” she adds, quieter. “Not going anywhere.”

And she doesn’t.

She just stands there with you, solid and warm and real.

She was tight. Clean. Controlled. Structure in a day that didn’t go as planned is what you needed right now, which was undeniably her.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Her hair was splayed over the hills of her shoulders, grey eyes swelling like pools of affection reserved only for you. The world always slowed down whenever you met her gaze that was gilded in love, albeit unfortunately for you, your body still couldn’t recognise when it was safe to drop the act you wore like a second skin for the confinements of society.

She knew something was wrong the second you didn’t respond, she always did; like a chorus that just wasn’t hummed right, she caught the unease like a breeze in morning air.

The signs were written all over you; the un-coordinated jerk of your fists clenching where the only sound emitting from you was your fingers scratching red-lines against the loose skin on your thumb, the twitching of your face muscles spasming as you tried to suppress it all, and the luminescent pearls of tears forming at the crevice of your eye.

An impending meltdown was coming, and with the way your body was fighting itself not to show it, you were also trying to mask it which would only add to the foreboding explosion.

Suddenly Sevika’s gaze was like a turret landing on its target, unwavering and pursuing as her feet snapped against the ground

“Hey, speak to me.” Her touch was a grounding force in the bite of venom you felt, the cologne she wore—sharp, musky, all the things that were just Sevika, oozed your mind to calm down even if it was just for a moment.

“‘Ts just too much-” Your voice came out rattled, trembling as you tried to brush her aside to rush to the bathroom where you always seemed to go when your body shook like this.

You found it humiliating, being such a sensitive thing in a world that wasn’t made for a brain like yours. Others thought you were weird—your brain provoking them into nasty-jabs that shed the layers of what they really thought of people like you. Even if you knew Sevika wasn’t like that, it hurt that you were two different people with two different brains that chimed differently and that sometimes, that’s all people ever saw.

You were timorous that she wouldn’t understand, because your neurology decided those who weren’t like you deep down would never understand, no matter how hard they tried.

The bridge was always there, and you couldn’t help but extend it as you tried to push Sevika away during moments like these.

But Sevika didn’t have to understand you fully to love you—she had adjusted everything in her life to make sure your needs were met, and shutting her out wasn’t going to work on her.

Not anymore.

Her metallic arm never hesitated in grasping your wrist, frigid against your skin but she held you so feebly it was almost like she was afraid of adding fire to the fuel that had burnt itself inside your mind.

“Stop.” Her grip was vice-like despite the tenderness, leaving your skin tingling underneath her broad fingers that made your entire being halt.

“Sev-”

“No. Stop shutting me out.” She turned to face you fully, seeing your lips quivering and your blood-shot eyes, wide and vulnerable, peering up at her.

“I can’t…” you whispered, letting out a shaky exhale, your head lolling forward with ignominy creasing your eyebrows together, your eyes shedding tears.

“You can trust me.” Fingers tilting under your jaw, she lifted your head to meet the light fractioned by her body blocking the source of the lamp snug in the corner.

You chewed on your bottom lip, the weight of opening up and showing her a side of you that was unmasked loomed over you like a noose.

It really was that hard, troublesome, even, to overcome societal expectations that had been drilled into you ever since you were young.

Your head shook, and what felt like relief knuckling down onto your body, you crashed against Sevika’s body, tears staining her T-shirt that rose over the curve of her chest.

“Shh, I'm here now. You’re home. It’s okay doll.” Her muscular arms were a home in itself—protectiveness that provided you safety nothing else could give.

Your tears dampened her chest, distant echoes of muffled sobs reverberating back off the walls. You stayed clad in her arms for what felt like a pregnant pause. You tried to quieten the thoughts—but when the thoughts were a rise of nasty spews and aggravating bashes about your brain, suddenly the maelstrom was happening all over again.

“I just-I wish I wasn’t different, you know?” You pulled yourself away from her clasp, glowering down at the floor with your teeth clenched as if fearful of what you might next say.

“Everyone’s different.”

That same excuse. That same tone. That same reasoning. It grew tiring, even if you knew Sevika didn’t know what to say—words that hit right in the chest that never dulled no matter how many times it was said.

“You don’t get it.” You hissed, meeting her grey eyes with a bite of agitation swelling in your tone, accompanying the crack of your earlier-tears clawing at your throat. “Your difference isn’t an issue. Mine is.”

Sevika sighed. A prolonged sound that felt wrapped up in subtle guilt tracing the edges.

“I understand-”

“You don’t understand. You’re…you’re normal. I will never have a brain like yours.” You choked out, words clashing against the strings of Sevika’s heart as she felt her shoulders stiffen like cardboard left frozen over in the streets, abandoned and neglected.

You turned around, fingers wrapping around your hair as you pushed past her barrier of a body, unravelling from her gaze that felt like it could look through concrete if she tried hard enough.

But at the end of the day she knew you were right. Your difference was a scathe in society’s supposed perfection, a wound that never healed no matter how hard anyone pressed to fixed it.

Taglist

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who baby talks the kid ALL THE TIME…when you’re not around.

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who uses her to ask you for things. if she wants some sort of outside food, she’ll send her over to ask instead of asking herself..because she knows there’s a higher chance you’ll say yes.

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who never yells. ever. if your daughter messes up, instead of exploding, she’ll sit her down and talks to her about what she did and why it was wrong. the last this she wants is her princess afraid to make mistakes :(((

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who loves napping with her. she’s small enough to curl completely against her chest, her weight almost comforting. plus, she naturally smells good.

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who plays mermaids with her when she eventually learns how to swim. she’ll act annoyed, like she’s only doing it because the girl begged….but you’ll watch her frown when your daughter comes up with a cooler superpower than hers.

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who takes pictures of you and your daughter every second…she got a whole folder for them. phone camera in your face every time you blink likkkeee….

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who claims the kids shows your daughter watches are annoying and boring as hell, as if she doesn’t silently watch along with her when the girls eating dinner in the living room.

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who’s overprotective as HELL. she’s always doing anything and everything she can to make sure your daughter doesn’t hurt herself….she damn near cried when she tripped while on a walk and scrapped her knee for the first time….youve literally never seen her cry.

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who can never say no to her sprout. she’s learned to always bring a few extra bucks when she goes out with her because she knows she’s gonna get asked for a candy at the checkout line.

❤︎girlmom!sevika, who has never missed a single doctors appointment, even while you were pregnant. if something wrong with her kid she wants to know immediately.

so when your daughter got sick for the first time, ❤︎girlmom!sevika was the epitome of worried. she immediately took time off work to be with her, even if you were already glued to the kids side anyway. she wanted to lend a hand if you needed anything.

Hhaiii my reqs r open :pppp pls send something in, it’s greatly appreciated! (vi, sevika, ellie williams, abby anderson)

masterlist♥︎

@/issysh3ll 4 dividers :ppp

You sit on the edge of the bed in that awful gown, fingers twisting in the thin fabric, trying not to let your thoughts spiral. Everything smells sterile, sharp, unfamiliar. It makes your chest feel tight.

Sevika notices immediately.

She always does.

“You’re thinking too much,” she says gently, stepping closer, her voice low and steady in that way that always grounds you. Reassuring. Soft. Just for you.

You glance up at her, trying to smile. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to me.”

She moves to stand between your knees, large hands coming up to rest on your arms, warm and solid. Real. Her thumbs brush back and forth without thinking, slow and soothing.

“You’re safe, baby,” she murmurs. “They know what they’re doing.”

You nod, but your grip tightens in her shirt anyway. “I know, I just… I don’t like not being in control.”

Her expression softens even more at that, something protective flickering behind her eyes.

“I know you don’t.”

She leans in slightly, her forehead resting against yours for a moment. It’s grounding, the quiet weight of her there, the steady rhythm of her breathing.

“You won’t be alone,” she continues. “I’ll be right here until they take you in. And when you wake up?”

Her hand slides up, cupping your cheek so gently it almost makes your throat ache.

“I’ll be the first thing you see.”

Your eyes sting a little. “Promise?”

Sevika huffs the faintest breath of a laugh, like the question itself is ridiculous.

“Always.”

She presses a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering just a second longer than usual. Then another, just because she can. Because you’re hers and she wants you to feel it.

“You’re strong,” she adds quietly. “Stronger than you think. But you don’t have to be right now. I’ve got you.”

Your shoulders loosen, just a little.

The nurse comes in not long after, gently explaining it’s time.

Your fingers tighten in Sevika’s hand instinctively, and she squeezes back immediately, firm and reassuring.

“I’m right here,” she reminds you.

As they start to wheel you out, her hand stays in yours as long as it possibly can, thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, steady strokes.

“Hey,” she calls softly when your eyes start to drift away from her.

You focus on her face, on the familiar lines, the warmth in her gaze.

“Just think about coming back to me,” she says. “That’s all you have to do.”

You nod faintly.

And the last thing you see before everything fades is Sevika standing there, unwavering, watching you with so much love it settles deep in your chest.

—

When you wake, it’s slow. Heavy. Like pulling yourself up through water.

Your head feels fuzzy, your body distant.

But there’s something warm wrapped around your hand.

Something familiar.

You blink, vision clearing just enough to make out a broad shape beside you, head resting near the edge of the bed.

Sevika.

She’s slumped slightly in the chair, one arm stretched out so her hand can stay wrapped around yours, even in sleep.

She kept her promise.

The moment your fingers twitch, she stirs instantly, like she was never really asleep at all.

Her head lifts, eyes finding yours in seconds.

And the relief that floods her face is soft, quiet, overwhelming.

“Hey,” she breathes, voice gentler than you’ve ever heard it. “There you are.”

Your lips barely manage a small smile.

“Told you,” she murmurs, bringing your hand up to press a careful kiss to your knuckles. “First thing you’d see.”

Her thumb brushes over your skin again, slow and grounding, exactly the same as before.

“I’ve got you, my brave girl,” she says softly. “You did so well.”