#FINALLY DONE THIS IS SO LONG
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Dark Forest Resident: Salviathaw
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Aliases / Nicknames: The Kit That Shouldn’t Be, Dark Kit, Half-Darkling, Darkling
Gender: she-cat
Sexuality: homosexual, panromantic-polyromantic
Family: Sorrelmint (mother), Snowfringe (father), Brindlekit (sister), Mothshade (brother), unnamed unborn kits, Ravenberry (mate, formerly)
Other Relations: Needlefrost (mentor), Snowfringe (Dark Forest mentor), Rabbitpaw (apprentice)
Clan: Skyclan
Rank: warrior
Characteristics: half Dark-Kit
Murder Motive: angry that she was robbed of a normal life, believing there was no reason she shouldn’t kill, since she was going to end up in the Dark Forest anyway
Number of Victims: 15 (1 indirectly)
Number of Murders: 15 (1 indirectly)
Murder Method: clawing in a rage, having killed in a battle, throwing/pushing over a height, forced water intoxication, torturing, slitting throat, passing sickness
Known Victims: Sorrelmint, unnamed Shadowclan warrior, Shrewkit, Sandkit, Honeykit, Rabbitpaw, Palepaw, Pigeonpaw, Ravenberry, Cindersong, unborn kits, nameless rogues, the medicine cat
Victim Profile: her mother, her apprentice, her ex mate, cats who got to live the life she should have had, rogues who insulted her, cats suspicious of her, the medicine cat
Cause of Death: bleeding sickness
Cautionary Tale: ??
Story:
The first sign that things would go wrong should have been the complicated birth. 
Brindlekit was dead before she was born, and barely looked developed, while Mosskit shrank away from the light outside the den as though it were something to be afraid of. His skin seemed to shrivel away with each passing day, until finally he died. 
Salviakit thought that it was from his constricting skin finally strangling him.
But Salviakit didn’t stop seeing him.
Occasionally she would be in the nursery, where queens nursed their own kits and only occasionally watched over another mother’s. There, he was gone.
Occasionally she was in the Daycare, where a kind tom named Fungichomp and some others would collectively watch all of the kits when parents needed a break. That is where she would play with Mothkit.
Perhaps things could be easier if she could distinguish between these two realities, to be in one place and then move to another. Such was not the life she was given.
It wasn’t as easy as going to sleep and visiting her brother in the afterlife. For her, there was no telling when and where she could be. She could walk out of the camp to join her mentor for a training session, and on the other side she would walk into the play space in the Night Forest. 
Needlefrost was initially angry at her tendency to, according to him, ‘zone out,’ but quickly grew concerned. Apparently, when she went to the Night Forest, it seemed to everyone that she were moving in a trance. 
That is only one way her realities mix.
She could hold a conversation with two cats together, with neither aware the other was also with her.
See would see prey that was not there, which she learned when she bounced on a blackbird, only to have a confused Needlefrost explain that she held nothing.
Her denmate would ask if she wanted to hunt with him. She would respond that she wanted to sleep, and would then be surprised when she was told that in spite of the dark skies, it was day.
She would have to be extra careful with walking, never sure which trees--or anything really--was there and which weren’t.
Her social life took a hit as well. 
Cats from her ‘normal life,’ such as her mentor and mother, wanted her to value Clan life above everything else. They were pleased when her fur was neat and well-groomed, when she trained with claws sheathed, when she spoke politely, and when she shared her prey with Clanmates.
Cats from her ‘Night Forest life’ such as Fungichomp, Snowfringe, and a number of others wanted her to value individuality above everything else. They were pleased when her fur was ungroomed, as apparently it meant she was focused on more important things. They encouraged training with unsheathed claws, and because it was usually for cats here to exchange insults as though they were simply sharing tongues, she picked up the habit as well. Never able to have food themselves, they encouraged her to eat as much as she could ‘while she still had the chance.’
Perhaps it would be easy to please both groups of cats if she could tell when she was with who, but alas, it seemed Starclan had condemned her to a life of suffering.
In spite of her many complications, she managed to find love when Ravenberry, a tom she had a crush on since apprenticeship admitted his feelings for her. They tried on numerous times to have kits, and when she finally became expecting, the medicine cat told her only a quarter-moon later that her kits had died in the womb.
Ravenberry put the blame on her, calling her selfish for trying to have kits with her health, and swiftly left her for another she-cat.
Then she found out how truly condemned she was.
Seeing how much she struggled, Sorrelmint pulled her to the side and admitted to the horrible truth--that her father was a warrior of the Place of No Stars.
The forest she always saw wasn’t the ‘Night Forest,’ as she had named it, but the Dark Forest, where murderers and other evil cats go.
It was where she would surely end up. After all, that is where Mossshade ended up, and where he was able to grow up in spite of being dead--Salviathaw had thought that old kits grow after death, something that a grieving mother was quick to yell at her for saying.
She would be sent to the decaying, bloody-aired forest for existing. 
Her death, however horrible it may be, will follow her throughout eternity, existence never ending, hunger everlasting.
She was furious at this injustice, enraged at all misery it had caused her and all of the pain it was sure to bring. 
It had caused the deaths of her unborn kits, not only robbing her of a normal life, but taking theirs as well.
And if she were going to be sent to the Place of No Stars anyways, well....
why not act on that frustration?
Her mother was first, killed in an outburst after Salviathaw was told the truth. She dragged her body to the border with Shadowclan, which later sparked a battle between them and Skyclan and caused the death of one warrior. 
It was a Shadowclan warrior, so the war ended--one of Skyclan died, one of Shadowclan died, so they were even.
During the time of war, a queen gave birth to three beautiful kits, two she-kits and a tom. They were healthy, happy, given the life Salviathaw should have been granted.
So she killed them, tossing them one by one from the highest tree in the territory, and watching with glee as their tiny bodies smacked with hard thuds on each branch.
She was almost won over by their begging after the first was thrown over. “We  want to live!” Well, so does she--but what was she given instead? So she threw the other two over with fresh vigor.
A moon later, Salviathaw was given an apprentice. Rabbitpaw.
What was the point in putting the effort of moon after moon training him if she were only going to suffer in the end? She had already spent nine moons in her own apprenticeship, needing it extended with all her complications.
She instructed him to climb down a steep ravine. Of course, he slipped and broke his spine. Salviathaw returned to camp, claiming that he got angry that she wanted him to gather moss instead of battle train, and ran off.
The Clan believed her, but Rabbitpaw’s brothers were confused, as that didn’t seem like Rabbitpaw. When cats were sent out to search, they went with her. They managed to find the cliff, looking over with horror at the twisted sight before them--then were shoved over before their staring could end.
The Clan mourned the deaths of the three, and it was assumed that Palepaw and Pigeonpaw fell trying to rescue their brother, who probably fell as well when not looking where he was going.
While some in the Dark Forest weren’t happy with her murders of those so young, many praised her new tendencies. At last, she knew which cats she wanted to please.
And please them, she would.
Ravenberry was an obvious choice.
“You should make him suffer for what he said to you.”
That, she did.
She listened to their advice, snapping his neck just as they had said so that he couldn’t move. She moved him so that he lay on his back, positioning his head between two rocks so that he couldn’t move that, either.
With a leaf, she gathered water, and poured that down his throat. He swallowed with difficulty, but the water kept coming. Ravenberry began to vomit, which he also had to swallow, being on his back and all. He began to shake violently, a complicated processes with his body’s stuck position. Finally, his suffering ended and he died.
Next came Cindersong, Ravenberry’s cousin, chirping along about how exciting she was to see her kits.
But Salviathaw didn’t get to see hers.
So when a restless Cindersong paced around the camp at night, Salviathaw offered to take her on a walk. When Cindersong was far enough from the camp, Salviathaw attacked. Her goal was to hurt Cindersong enough that her unborn kits died--if Cindersong herself died, they would just meet in Starclan, and she wanted to drag out the suffering.
Unfortunately, Cindersong’s fighting was desparate despite her heavy belly, and Salviathaw had no choice but to tear out her throat.
More moons passed without incidence, and she was growing restless. Then on a patrol, she and her Clanmates ran into a small gang of rogues, who laughed at their threats, claiming Clan cats weak. A few days later, when the urge returned, she went back to where they had met the rogues. 
From there, she followed their scent trail, and an amazing sight greeted her--they had all quickly fallen sick! She was expecting a fight, but with them all moaning in pain in a pathetic pile, she could tear all of them apart without so much as a scratch.
She had fun with them. Of course she should take the opportunity to! She yanked on their ears, tore their throat with small slits deeper and deeper until they bled out.
She was so used to the scent of blood, a constant in the Dark Forest, which mingled around her, that she failed to notice that the cats here were already bleeding. 
When she woke the next day, her vision was hazy with something red. Her Clanmates were alarmed, claiming that she was bleeding from her eyes as well as her ears, nose, and mouth.
Her last moons were spent writhing in pain in the medicine den and in a nest made for her in the Dark forest. At least she was able to take the medicine cat’s life as well with her illness.
Maybe when she was dead, the confusion of where she was would finally end, and she could start ‘living’ normally.
Additional Information:
--The first Half-Dark Kit!!
--The song you guys ended up choosing is Funhouse by Mothica! It can represent the disorientation of not knowing what is happening as well as the social and internal complications she had.
--Snowfringe was a warrior who died quickly and hated losing everything he should have had, such as a family, so wanted to try having one--a living, proper one. He came to regret that choice pretty soon.
--Fungichomp belongs to @wills-woodland-warriors
--Daycare designed by @ambitiousauthor​
--Dark Forest cats typically give unusual (but still Warrior-possible names), which is why Sorrelmint named her ‘Salvia.’ 
Salvia is a type of plant (it can be blue, possibly representing her eyes, and also very ironically means a long life and good health).
--Now I will proceed to add 1 million tags because I am so so proud of this
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tawnysoup · 22 days ago
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Found my fav Slay the Princess route recently. Dragon my beloved. Your horrifying beak mouth was an impossible-to-refuse lip syncing challenge 💖
Shoutouts to @blacktabbygames for making such a cool game!
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keferon · 24 days ago
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Don’t mind me I just like to see him go bananas about cartoonish Autobot rules
Maaan…..if Prowl was in tfp he would spontaneously combust at least once a day
#maccadam#transformers#prowl#tf prowl#there is no Prowl in Tfp so Optimus can pull all kinds of heroic cartoonish bullshit#and only Ratchet actually calls him out on it#but Ratchet also kinda has soft spot for Optimus#Op does sad eyes and Ratchet is like okay okay sorry I understand#Prowl would see the whole situation and lose his marbles immediately ahahahah#lol hey hey you. two people who read tags. imagine little au realquick#Autobots find the escape pod with Smokescreen right#but there’s two bots instead of one#back on the base humans look at the new guys and like#Smokey is fun and energetic and eager for heroism and adventure#and then there’s Prowl. The final boss. The ultimate MOM.#He makes one step into base and immediately starts scolding Optimus and everyone except for Ratchet#agent Fowler listens to him talking and decides that Prowl is his favorite autobot#damn. Prowl would SO not approve keeping humans around. Kids would hate him#but also he would be completely right. Because by keeping humans that close Autobots basically show that the humans can be used as leverage#against them you know.#He would immediately suggest getting rid of kids and hiring actual competent adults instead. So all hacking can be done by professionals#and all infiltrating can be done by people who are at least old enough to drink you know#yea kids would haaaate him so much#he would also build make all kinds of little annoying gadgets bc I have read Covenant of Primus and tfp Prowl is smart like that#he would be going around sticking trackers on every enemy he fights#and then triangulating Cons positions by the coordinates where their signals stop tracking#bc Nemesis blocks them#He would also keep sending Smokey to ghost through walls and steal all kinds of valuable shit from Megsy#they would be such a menace together#man this is getting kinda long I should probably stop
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•. A visit in a dream .•
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bonus-links · 4 months ago
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HOMESICK, pt. 9
first | prev | next>>
PATREON
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barghest-land · 8 months ago
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then down came the claw, and that, love, was that
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vaugely10 · 1 month ago
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but i never factored in, everyone else saying goodbye
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rusticfurnace · 7 months ago
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GHOSTSOAP // "you sweet fucker" MINICOMIC!!!
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lynxgriffin · 2 months ago
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Mightier Than The Sword
Gerson had one regret, but now Alvin has many. A fancomic about my thoughts and theories and who -and what- the Knight is!
While not directly connected, I'd say this one is in the same vein as the Deal With The Devil series! Hope you enjoy!
Alt text for this comic under the read more:
Page 1
Panel 1 - Wide shot of the interior of the Boom household. Several monsters are gathered in a clean-looking hall, dressed in somber clothing and talking quietly in small groups. The monsters include QC, Cat Mom, Toriel, Asgore and Mayor Holiday. Father Alvin stands waiting at a door in the hall as his sister, a red-headed turtle monster in a pink dress, exits through the door and speaks to him. “Alvin…he’s ready for you.”
Panel 2 - Mid shot as Alvin prepares to enter the room. Ms. Boom steps out of the way, and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Both of them look somber. 
Panel 3 - Alvin enters the room, mostly dark and lit by a few candles on a nearby desk. Gerson Boom is lying on a bed ahead of him, watching him enter. Alvin closes the door behind him and says, “Father, I’m here.”
Panel 4 - Alvin approaches his father, lying in bed. The bedroom has a few amenities, including a footstool set off to the side, a large rug bearing the delta rune, and a massive bookcase filling the entire back wall. A few books and papers litter the ground. Alvin bows his head, and says, “The hammer is ready for…for afterwards.”
Gerson just smiles, and responds, “Wa ha, is it? Well, it’ll do fine, I suppose.”
Panel 5 - Closer shot of Gerson extending his right hand towards Alvin. He’s smiling still, content with where he is. “Come here, son.”
Page 2
Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin takes his father’s hand in his own, and clasps it tight. “Whatever you need…I’m here,” he says from offscreen.
Panel 2 - Alvin kneels by his father’s bedside, still clasping his hands. Gerson says, “Of course you are. Wa ha…you’re such a good and kind man, Alvin.”
Panel 3 - Closeup on Alvin as he just holds on to his father’s hand. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. 
Panel 4 - Focus on Gerson as he holds up a hand to conspiratorially whisper to Alvin. “And I know I can trust you with a secret, right?”
Panel 5 - Closeup on Alvin as he looks back up, face earnest. “...Of course.”
Panel 6 - Gerson holds up one finger as he speaks to Alvin. “I told your sister I had no regrets, but that was a BIT of a fib! I’m afraid I have one regret…”
Panel 7 - Side view of Alvin as he learns closer, his face now worried. “Father?...”
Page 3
Panel 1 - Focus on Gerson as he leans back on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I had started earlier. Writing stories, I mean. Seein’ you an’ your sister’s eyes light up whenever I read you a new chapter…and then seeing all that joy from so many young folks after those stories were published!” he says, looking wistful.
Panel 2 - Alvin watches on sadly as Gerson continues, “It was the greatest feeling in the world, Alvin. It’s what life’s all about, y’know. Helping the young folks grow.”
Panel 3 - Gerson closes his eyes and looks back towards the ceiling again, still wistful. “So, I wish I’d started writing stories sooner.”
Panel 4 - Closeup on Alvin as he bows his head, still holding Gerson’s hand. “I truly do cherish those times you read to us, father…” he says.
Panel 5 - Closeup on Gerson as he closes his mind with happy memories. “Me too, Alvin. It’s a shame…I’ve still got so many tales to tell! But–”
Panel 6 - Gerson is interrupted by a round of hacking coughs. His time is fast approaching.
Panel 7 - Gerson settles back in to his bed and says, “The Angel’s given me SO many good, happy years. Doesn’t seem fair to ask for more.”
Panel 8 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to hold his father’s hand tight. “This doesn’t seem fair, either…” he says, tears still pricking at his eyes.
Page 4
Panel 1 -  Insert closeup of Gerson as he smiles at his son. “That’s life, Alvin!” He doesn’t seem bothered by his imminent passing.
Panel 2 - Side view as Gerson leans in closer to Alvin again, hand raised, back to sharing his secrets. “But, knowin’ my secret…there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”
Alvin faces his father with seriousness. “Anything,” he replies.
Panel 3 - Closeup on Gerson, as he looks hopefully at Alvin. “You have a good heart, Alvin. I want you to know this joy, too.”
Panel 4 - Gerson continues in the next panel: “Please try writin’ stories of your own, alright?” Closeup on Alvin as he looks shocked and a bit worried by the request.
Panel 5 - Mid shot as Alvin holds up a hand to Gerson in protest. He says, “Father, I…I have no talent for writing fiction. Not like YOU.”
Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson as he refutes his son: “Hogwash! I know you can.”
Panel 7 - Wide shot as Alvin stands up, and looks around the room. “No, I…”
In the foreground, there’s Gerson’s desk, currently showing some lit candles, some paper, an inkwell, a notebook, and his favorite fountain pen.
Page 5
Panel 1 - Closeup as Alvin grabs two objects off of the desk: the small notebook and the fountain pen. Offscreen, he says, “If you just…”
Panel 2 - Back at Gerson’s bedside, Alvin pulls up the footstool and puts the pen and notebook in front of him, intending to use it. He faces his father, and says, “Tell me your ideas, I could write them down, and–”
Gerson interrupts him: “‘Fraid it doesn’t work that way, Alvin!”
Panel 3 - Gerson holds up both of his hands and smiles as he explains: “My tales are between my soul and the pen. You’ll need to make your own.”
Panel 4 - Gerson watches as Alvin, tears in his eyes, looks down at the notebook and pen in hand. “I–I cannot…” Alvin starts, looking despondent.
Panel 5 - Side view of Alvin as tears continue to stream from his eyes. He says, “Not without you!” In the background, in grayscale, there is a scene from Alvin’s memory: Gerson reading a book to his two children by the fire. Gerson looks happy, and both kids are enraptured, with Alvin clinging to a cat doll that looks like Seam.
Panel 6 - Closeup on Gerson, his face now more worried and pleading towards Alvin. Gerson says, “Y-you can… It’s all I ask…”
Panel 7 - Gerson turns away as he’s again interrupted by a round of terrible sounding coughs. Alvin stands holding the notebook and pen in the foreground.
Page 6
Panel 1 - Horror comes over Alvin’s face as his father continues to cough loudly, clutching his chest. He realizes that his father might be close to death now.
Panel 2 - Wider overhead shot as Alvin turns away from Gerson, looking frantically around the room. “No! Not yet!--” he says desperately. Gerson is still racked with coughs.
Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin grabs the candles from the desk–
Panel 4 - And then pulls a book from the bookshelf, with the delta rune on the front –
Panel 5 - And then finally pulls out what appears to be a beaded rosary, with the delta rune made of beads at the end of it.
Panel 6 - Wider shot as Alvin places the objects in front of him, candles to the side, holy book in front of him. Gerson can only lay there as he does so, trying to catch his breath.
Panel 7 - Front view of Alvin as he clasps his hands together in front of his face, the rosary threaded between his fingers. He closes his eyes and bows his head in prayer. “Angel…Angel above! Please, heed your servant’s prayer!”
Page 7
Panel 1 - Closeup on Alvin as he continues to pray, the candles glowing around him. He keeps his eyes shut even as tears well in them. “I know you call back my father’s soul, but please! Please refrain!”
Panel 2 - Gerson desperately reaches a hand out towards his son, shaking, but unable to reach him. In the foreground, the fountain pen sits on the footstool between them. “A-Alvin…” Gerson’s voice is shaky now.
Panel 3 - Aerial shot as Alvin prays over the book, and Gerson is still confined to the bed, only able to watch. “This world still NEEDS his gifts!” Alvin says. “I pray to you, don’t take them from us now!” The shadows around Alvin start to grow strange, not matching the candlelight.
Panel 4 - Gerson continues to hold out a hand, now not looking well. “No…”
Panel 5 - Closeup on the candles as they spark to life, now glowing stronger.
Panel 6 - A strange bright glow begins to emanate from Gerson. Behind him, the books in the bookcase all rattle and shift as if in a localized earthquake. The colors of the room grow brighter and stranger.
Panel 7 - Still reaching out a desperate hand, Gerson lets out a soft breath. His soul, an upside-down white heart, comes up from his body. On the footstool in the foreground, the fountain pen also begins to levitate, as if by magic.
Page 8
Panel 1 - Front shot of Alvin as he continues to pray desperately, his head bowed and hands together. “Grant us the love shown between his soul and the pen!” Behind him, the colors have grown stark and bright, and a shadow resembling the angel looms behind Alvin.
Panel 2 - Alvin looks up to discover something amazing and terrible: Gerson’s soul has been drawn to the fountain pen, and begins to flow down into it.
Panel 3 - Closeup as Gerson’s soul is completely absorbed into the pen, hovering high over the bed.
Panel 4 - The candles turn strange blue and pink colors, and the books in the bookcase shake and rattle relentlessly.
Panel 5 - Extreme closeup on Alvin’s eyes as he sees this miracle; the light of his father’s soul reflected in his eyes.
Panel 6 - Closeup as the pen suddenly drops, and clatters back on to the footstool.
Panel 7 - Wide aerial shot as the room very suddenly goes completely dark and silent, the bright colors and lights now gone. Alvin stands up and backs away from the bed, still clutching the rosary, his face filled with horror. Gerson now lies unmoving in his bed, having passed away.
Page 9
Panel 1 - The same shot as the first panel of the first page, with the other monsters waiting in the hallway. No one says anything as Alvin emerges from the bedroom, leaning on the door for support, his head bowed. Everyone in the room knows that Gerson has just passed, although they don’t know the rest.
Panel 2 - An establishing shot of the forest and mountains surrounding Hometown…the skies are a dark, gloomy gray.
Panel 3 - Above shot of Gerson’s newly dug grave. At the bottom of a small pit lies Gerson’s hammer, covered in his dust. Politics Bear stands over the grave, holding a shovel. 
Panel 4 - Closeup as the shovel begins to dump dirt over the fresh grave.
Panel 5 - Another closeup of Gerson’s headstone, with bundles of fresh funerary flowers laid in front of it.
Panel 6 - Wide shot of Gerson’s funeral. Alvin stands over his father’s grave, reading last rites from one of his books. Lots of monsters are in attendance, including Alphys and Undyne, Napstablook, the Holiday and Dreemurr families, and more. A very young Kris, Noelle and Asriel are present, but Dess is not. Everyone is dressed in dark mourning attire.
Panel 7 - After the funeral, Toriel approaches Alvin and puts a hand on his shoulder. She says, “Beautifully said, Alvin. I know your father is watching proudly by the side of the Angel.” Alvin looks distant and mournful.
Panel 8 - A closeup of the fountain pen laying forgotten on the desk in Gerson’s room. Gerson is, perhaps, not actually with the Angel right now.
Panel 9 - Back at the funeral, Alvin bows his head, eyes closed. “You are too kind, Toriel,” he says.
Page 10
Panels 1-3 - We see the seasons pass through the changing of the trees…from the barren white trees of winter, to colorful pink blooms for spring, to the bright oranges and reds of fall.
Panel 4 - Sometime much later, Alvin again enters his father’s old room, alone.
Panel 5 - Much of Gerson’s room has remained untouched. The fountain pen still sits on his old writing desk in the foreground. Alvin steps inside, and carefully turns on the overhead light. “It’s been years,” he says.
Panel 6 - Alvin cautiously approaches the pen, which seems to loom large ahead of him. He hesitantly picks it up.
Panel 7 - Alvin places some blank pages on the writing desk. “Surely…”
Panel 8 - Alvin sits in front of the blank pages, still holding the pen cautiously. “Surely by now, I can do it.” He’s going to try writing.
Panel 9 - Closeup as Alvin dips the pen in the inkwell, and it comes away full of ink.
Panel 10 - Closeup as Alvin holds the pen over the blank page. The pen trembles slightly in his grip.
Panel 11 - Alvin tries to put pen to paper, but he’s still trembling. He looks down with great anxiety. “I…I…”
Panel 12 - Closeup on Alvin’s face as he looks more panicked, shaking and sweating. In the background, his memory of his father’s soul being absorbed into the pen plays back at him. This is still his fault.
Panel 13 - Closeup again as Alvin’s hand shakes uncontrollably, and the pen with it. Ink spots begin to dapple the blank page–
Page 11
Panel 1 - Alvin’s shaking hand accidentally knocks over the inkwell, and it spills black ink all over the blank page.
Panel 2 - Alvin picks up the ruined paper and folds it in half to try and stem the ink spillage. He quietly curses to himself. 
Panel 3 - Closeup as Alvin holds his head in his hand. It’s clear that this isn’t going to work. “I can’t…” 
Panel 4 - Closeup as Alvin puts the ink-stained paper back on the desk, and quickly grabs up the pen and inkwell.
Panel 5 - Taking the pen and inkwell, Alvin exits his father’s room again, head bowed and expression sad.
Panel 6 - Left behind, the folded paper slowly peels apart and unfolds…
Panel 7 - To reveal that the spilled ink has created a rorschach ink blot image of a titan. 
Page 12
Panel 1 - Wide shot as Alvin trudges down the streets of Hometown, alone. His head his bowed, and he’s still clutching the articles he took with him. It’s almost nighttime, and the sky is dark. “I cannot bear this kind of burden,” he says to himself.
Panel 2 - Shot from behind Alvin as he approaches the school building. It’s dark, and no students or teachers should be there. “Maybe you belong where you always have…”
Panel 3 - Now indoors, Alvin continues down the empty hallway towards a particular destination. “With the youth.”
Panel 4 - Alvin opens the door to the storage closet at the end of the hall. It opens with a soft creak. “Teaching. Telling stories,” Alvin continues to say to himself.
Panel 5 - Alvin places the fountain pen and inkwell on a small shelf in the storage closet. The closet is almost completely black. 
Panel 6 - The inkwell and pen are left on the shelf as Alvin closes the door behind him. His expression is mournful as he locks these reminders of his father away. “Inspiring someone better suited,” he says, hoping this is a suitable escape of his responsibility.
Page 13
Panel 1 - But in the storage closet, the objects are subject to something else already there: the grand Dark Fountain. The pen, ink and papers all fall into the darkness of the fountain–
Panel 2 - And start to change, the pen seemingly turning into liquid itself–
Panel 3 - As the pen falls deeper and deeper into the dark, the liquid begins to reshape into something new, something resembling a person–
Panel 4 - Until it lands on empty ground, now a person in knight’s armor, knelt over and holding his head in his hands.
Panel 5 - The Knight comes to, and starts to become more aware. He’s dressed in armor resembling the dark metallic sheen of the fountain pen, his mask resembling the pen tip. A bright deep red cape flows from his shoulders, and a single red-orange feather tops the helmet. “Where…am I?”
Panel 6 - The Knight again touches his helmet with both hands, as if not sure exactly what he is.
Panel 7 - Interior shot of the helmet, which reveals a figure much like Gerson…but much younger, more idealized-looking, with colors not matching his actual self. A Dark World interpretation. “WHY am I…?”
Panel 8 - A closeup of the Knight’s hand, slightly trembling.
Panel 9 - The Knight stares down at his own hands as realization begins to flood him, or at least something that looks like realization. “Wait. I see why. I KNOW.” he says.
 Page 14
Panel 1 - The Knight holds up his hand, and a sword appears in it in a flash of lights. The sword resembles the tip of a fountain pen, almost split neatly in two. “I serve the Lightners! That is my purpose!” Says the Knight. 
Panel 2 - The Knight draws the sword back with great fervor and determination. His thoughts echo around him in strong letters: “A purpose so bright, so clear…”
Panel 3 - In the final panel, the Knight drives the sword into the ground, causing an eruption of black ink-like material to spew from the ground…the creation of a new Dark Fountain. In the fountain itself, words reflect his purpose: “I EXIST TO GIVE THEM STORIES FOREVER.”
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daisybell-on-a-carousel · 2 months ago
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Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest
Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here
Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭
It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony
#the final confrontation was basically his first death again#and YES he Does want the Joker dead#and it would've been really really nice if Batman was the one who did it#but when batman made it clear he wouldn't kill the joker. Jason easily switched to saying “LET me kill the joker” to accommodate#because he Wanted batman to pass his test#he gave a test to dick too. and technically tim but it wasnt the family test it was a different one so it doesnt rly count#AFTER utrh and the reveal and the batarang you can go hog wild about it. i care less about it then#granted i do believe they make jason more scared of the joker after it at some point#i guess because hes a bit too willing to kill the joker and ive heard jason wasnt meant to live after utrh#my watsonian explain for that is he was so fixated on his plan he cpuld override his fear. or maybe the pit. either work#i prefer the fixation bc i dont like the explanation that the pit was the /only/ reason he could get all plan together and done#BUT THATS UNRELATED!!!#dc stop putting the joker in jason stories im begging you please please please. lock him in a vault for the next 20 years or something#it Cpuld be good and i understand. but also. after so long of people that dont know or go for jasons need for family and parents#that love him and he can trust#the joker starts to feel like?? hm. words. a cop out? oh haha its that guy that killed him woagh hes here#i bet you dont even know that jaybin got beat until unconsciousness by an angry mob#while asking batman to save him only for batman to have to walk away#anwya. where was i going with this#i think i got off topic#jason todd#dc comics#batman#ADDED AN EDIT. SORRY. this post has been haunting me it keeps me awake. what if people misunderstand#they cant read my tags where i ramble more depth. thisbis the only option#EDIT EDIT: hiii#removed the sentence abt jason having the joker for several days bc i misremembered some things#go read its-your-mind 's addition instead also#ok no more i wont edit this post anymore i promise
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thekaiserroll · 9 months ago
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Zosan comic inspired by videos of otters holding hands so they won't float away from each other.
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swordmaid · 3 months ago
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back to the shadows 🌑
inspired by the storm by pierre auguste cot, shri’iia and astarion running away from the sun bc he’s a vampire and she has sunlight sensitivity.
please zoom in to see the details! 🥹🫶
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xitsensunmoon · 19 days ago
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You'd think after getting your dear daycare attendant out of the Pizzaplex you would live happily ever after, hm?
look who changed their mind to post the whole thing together oops
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forgettable-au · 3 months ago
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END OF CHAPTER ONE
FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 65-72)
* Time to put this puzzle together.
[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]
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ennabear · 2 months ago
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✞︎ ︎YOUR OWN PERSONAL JESUS.
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SOMEONE TO HEAR YOUR PRAYERS. SOMEONE WHO CARES.
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cw: religious!reader x sevika, inspo from personal jesus by depeche mode, dark themes [drinking addiction, religious crisis, trauma/ptsd, etc.], a mention of isha because i’m evil, as well as religious themes, nasty sloppy dirty sinful dyke sex [body worship + tribbing] 18+ 🧛🏿
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i. FEELING UNKNOWN AND YOU’RE ALL ALONE
sad, dull, gray, gloomy, what else could she use to describe it? constant rain, a chronic form of seasonal depression that lingered in the air no matter where she went. her therapist prescribed her some fresh air, but the air is never fresh here. it’s thick with fog, the humidity weighs down on your shoulders and makes it unbearable to trudge through. sure, the sun shines, but it never peeks out from behind the clouds, leaving the town in a dark, unsaturated gleam.
she crosses the threshold into her apartment, hair clinging to the back of her neck and the sides of her face due to a mix of humidity and sweat. her apartment might be more vapid than the outside world, it’s a small box that overlooks the parking lot and a few 24 hour diners across the street. the walls are all white, along with the ceiling and cabinets, and the carpet is scratchy and gray. she hardly has any furniture, a small couch with a tv propped up on a cardboard box facing it. no coffee table, chairs, or shelves, but she doesn’t spend much time out here anyways.
her ribs start to ache, and the growing hunger in her stomach only makes it worse. she scours her cupboards for a snack, and settles for half a bar of dark chocolate and a glass of whiskey. the couch is small and hard and it barely offers any comfort to her tired body. on the tv, the meteorologist blabbers away about the predicted weather for the week. she feels bad for him, the poor guy probably wanted a bigger and better job than this. foreseeing the same weather for 365 days straight. cold, cloudy, wet, maybe snow if we get lucky.
the dark chocolate she’s nibbling on is cheap and tastes identical to the plastic wrapper it came in, and the burn of the whiskey is only adding to the bitter taste. but at least it soothes her mind. she sighs, flicks off the television, and heads for the shower. the last thing she wants to be right now is even more wet, but the promising warmth of the water will at least soothe some of the pain in her shoulders.
a bone-chilling squeak rings out through the bathroom as she twists the faucet on, and the light flickers as if in response to the noise. sevika peels her clothes off, her sweatpants dropping to the floor and her shirt still trying to hang on to her body. her ribs are more prominent than they’ve ever been, and she can see her muscles slowly starting to wither away with how frequently she skips the gym.
steam fills the room, the foggy clouds of it wisp around her as she studies herself until she can’t see her reflection anymore. it’s all blurry— her reflection, the walls, her own hands in front of her face. her left arm has the deepest and darkest scars she’s ever seen, most of them are jagged from the way her stitches were inserted. she can hardly stand to look at herself anymore, so maybe it’s a good thing the mirror is fogged up.
in the shower she only washes herself for a quick second, rubbing a thin layer of soap all over her body and scrubbing her scalp with shampoo. she debates on adding conditioner, but she feels as if she’ll faint if she’s in the shower for another second. the hot water quickly runs out, and sevika only notices how scorching her water was when it switches over to room temperature.
as soon as she steps out of the shower, she wraps herself up in her towel, although there’s not really a point in that due to the holes and strings coming off of it. she makes a mental note to buy more towels, and just as she’s about to mope about another purchase to make, her phone blares an alarm warning her not to be late to her physical therapy appointment.
stumbling out of the bathroom, she trudges half nude to her liquor cabinet, aimlessly grabbing around for something strong. she pours herself a shot, and then another, and fuck, why not a third one? she doesn’t notice the burn as it goes down, her mind instead focusing on the ache in her left shoulder.
she pulls a shirt over her head and shoves her shoes on, finalizing her outfit with her black raincoat. she wears it nearly every day, partially because it’s always cold and rainy, and partially because it’s a good excuse to hide the thick scars that travel all the way up her body. her spine starts to ache as she walks to the clinic, but she doesn’t have money for a car, and she doesn’t know anybody in this town well enough to ask them for a ride.
the receptionist at the clinic doesn’t look up one single time as sevika checks in, and sevika wishes so badly that she could get paid to sit down and look at a computer all day. she takes a seat in the waiting room, slumping back and relaxing her muscles as she waits for her PT to invite her in. the clock on the wall ticks extremely loudly, she notices, but she decides to close her eyes and count the ticks until it’s finally her turn.
ii. FLESH AND BONE BY THE TELEPHONE
static muffles through her radio. she flicks the ashes of her cigarette out onto the pavement, watching as a pigeon across the street skitters around. another few crackles through her walkie talkie go ignored. it’s her break for fucks sake, and she’s only just starting to enjoy it.
“sevika?” her radio booms. she sighs, rolling her eyes and waiting for someone else to respond.
“sevika, we need you inside. your break is over.”
“my break is what? over.” she responds, giggling at her own smartass response.
“your break is over, god damn it. over.”
“roger.” she says, a hint of a smile still in her voice. “i’ll be inside in a second. over.”
she pulls her phone out of her pocket, double checking the new code for the security door. after punching it in, she swings the door open until it bolts shut behind her, and then makes her way to the lobby. the museum is huge, the lobby has floors that sparkle and shine no matter how many muddy shoes cross over them, and the rest of the stories are complete with floor to ceiling windows that are taller than she ever could’ve imagined.
as she crosses through a giant stone archway, her boss nods and waves her over. one of her coworkers is there too, both of them looking stern and serious. she steps into the small circle they’ve formed, lifting her eyebrows quizzically at the two of them. “well?” she asks. “what do you need?”
“what do i need? what i fuckin’ need from both of you is for you to do your fuckin’ jobs.” he spits, literally. droplets of his saliva collect in his beard as he digs into sevika and her coworker about ‘not doing their jobs.’
“what do you mean by that, sir?” her coworker asks.
“do you know how many people i’ve seen walk out of here with souvenirs stuffed into their pockets? that gift shop is gonna be desecrated by the end of the day.”
“respectfully, sir, we aren’t in charge of the gift shop. we only monitor the grounds of the museum, and you’re the one who hired us both to do that.” she says back.
“then go do ya fuckin’ job.” he growls, his thick boston accent shining through his attempt at a serious lecture.
she raises her eyebrows and turns around with her tongue in her cheek, heading up the large marble stairs. sevika can’t argue with that, and she loves her job. it’s easy— all she has to do is puff her chest to intimidate her guests, hand out lollipops to the little ones who are brave enough to wave at her, and occasionally answer a question about directions around the place. all of her coworkers love her, and she’s never felt more secure in her life before.
ascending the stairs, she eyes a beautiful young woman with blazing orange hair wandering into the gift shop and a smile on her face. that’s not the type of person who’d steal, she thinks, and she’s probably right. concealing her eyes are a pair of black sunglasses, and she’s finally thankful they’re part of her uniform now that she’s got direct sunlight hitting every corner of the second floor.
she inserts her earpiece into the side of her head, prepared although not excited to listen to her coworkers chat and complain for the rest of the day. she flicks around until she connects to the private channel, and then continues to stroll around the second floor.
people of all ages wander through the halls. kids being scolded by their parents, awkward adults grasping clammy hands on their first date, seniors leaning on their walkers and canes as they reminisce about famous painters. the community is so beautiful, so important to her, she’d do anything to protect it. this place is like her second home, and she’s made some of the best friends of her life here. not to mention the fact that it’s taken her years to memorize her way around the place, so now it’s even more special to her.
she steps toward the large windows, feeling the warm sun prickle her skin as it sparkles through the leaves of the trees. the muffled sound of laughing families combined with the sight of her people paints a smile on her face, and she closes her eyes and loses herself in this divine moment until she feels something tug on the bottom of her vest.
“yes?” she asks, turning around and smiling down at the kid. her bottom lip quivers and her eyes fill with tears, she makes a mental note that she can’t be any older than six years of age.
“i—” she starts, attempting to blink back tears and inevitably failing. “mmmph!!”
sevika crouches down and wipes the girl’s tears away with her thumbs, ruffling the kid’s fluffy blue hair. “don’t worry, kiddo.” she assures her, “what’s wrong? oh, lemme guess— lost your parents?” the kid nods and sobs some more, attempting to hide her face in her hands.
she scoops her up in her arms, letting her sob into her shoulder. “ughffff!!!!” she pouts, squirming in sevika’s hold. she takes a guess that the kid is either really shy or just mute.
“it’s okay,” she coos. “would you like a lollipop?” the kid sniffles at this, but lifts her head up and nods at her. sevika digs into the small bag on her waist, pulling out a bright blue sucker for the little one that matches her hair. she takes it in her small hands and unwraps it, eyes sparkling at the sight of the blue raspberry favored sugar. sevika just hopes her parents don’t kill her.
with the kid in her arms— who is now joyfully sucking on the lollipop instead of soaking her in tears and snot— she makes her way downstairs. sevika’s no stranger to lost children, and she’s fond of their company. it’s refreshing to hear them describe colors and patterns in the paintings instead of overanalyzing it and telling stupid facts about the artist. and she loves that she can finally give back to the world, bringing the kiddos comfort like she never received from her own parents.
“radio check.” her earpiece says, slightly catching her off guard.
“go ahead.” her teammates all say, mutually praying their boss isn’t about to go on another two hour long rant in their private channel.
“keep your eyes peeled for a little kid with a full head of bright blue hair,” her boss says into her earpiece. “apparently her names isha and she’s five. parents lost her on the second floor and they’re worried.”
sevika looks down at the kid, unnecessarily double checking that her head is painted with blue hair dye. “i’ve got her.” she says. “we’re making our way to the lobby. 10-20?”
“lobby, meet you there soon. over and out.”
“isha!!” her mother shrieks as soon as sevika lands on the bottom step. “oh my sweet ishabear! i thought we’d lost you forever.”
isha’s dad shoots sevika a look that seems to say ‘sorry about her’, but she smiles and hands the kid over. “what’s your name?” her mom asks frantically. just as she’s about to respond, her boss speaks up and whacks her on the back with a proud slap.
“this is sevika. best security in the whole building, ain’t she?” he says, reaching out to pinch her cheek. sevika tries her absolute best to hold back, but she can’t stop a harsh glare from forming on her face as her boss pokes and prods at her like she’s a doll. she clears her throat and shoves him off, but resumes a smile for the parents staring at her.
“that she is!” the mother cheers. “god bless you, sevika, seriously. i’ll never be able to repay you.”
she smiles proudly, not necessarily because she believes in a god, but she’s just glad to get the kid back and hopefully end the conversation soon. “thank you ma’am. it’s no problem, really. it’s my job.”
“it is your job!” her boss exclaims. “and she’s gonna get right back to it.”
before turning away, she gives isha a smile and an explosive fist bump, smiling at the adorable little cub and then parting. her boss is probably the only downside of her job. words can’t explain how much she hates that guy— even hate isn’t a strong enough word. but she ignores it, pushing her hatred to the back of her mind and attempting to continue with her good day.
until an ear piercing scream is let out at the front of the building, and she’s knocked out before she can turn around to investigate.
——
“shit, how many are still in the building?”
“i dunno, man! there are people fuckin’ everywhere.”
“sevika? can you hear me? … sevika, you need to get out of there now.”
groggily, she peels her heavy eyes open and looks around. the scent of pennies fills her nose, a metallic smell so strong it nearly knocks her out again. before she feels like she can hit the floor, her body jerks forward and she sucks in a gasp before she realizes she’s already laying on the marbled ground.
“sevika…?”
“leave it alone, for gods sake, we need to get people out of here!”
her left arm was laying oddly and uncomfortably behind her, and her whole body was absolutely aching. she leans forward and chokes out some blood before looking at the scene before her. windows shattered and glass glistening on the floor, reflecting the light that shines off of the mini fires lit all around. there are people everywhere— or at least the remains of them. shoes and purses and walkers left behind, the suffocating scent of blood and charred flesh, and the sound of sirens blaring all around her.
she tries to breathe, but it seems impossible. her lungs won’t fill with air no matter how many times she gasps, and that number is burgeoning with the way she’s hyperventilating. hot, salty tears prickle her eyes involuntarily, but she blinks them away, too shocked to feel any emotions yet. she groans into the floor as a sharp pain shoots through her body, and the thrashing caused by that pain only makes her feel worse.
deep red and sticky, her blood pools around her. it leaks out of her left arm, which takes her a while to recognize as hers because of the way her elbow is inverted. she recognizes cries of children and shrieks of pain, which is a harsh contrast of the peaceful atmosphere earlier. how much earlier? how long has she been knocked out? and why is she on the floor?
after an eternity, two men in heavy jackets lift her onto a stretcher. she’s facing up this time, and now she can get a good look at the walls around her. they’re crumbling and splattered with blood, world famous paintings that were once hanging from them are now completely destroyed. either torn up or burnt to a crisp.
as they approach the bottom of the stairs, she makes the tough decision to peek over the stretcher, eyes frantically searching around the spot she was only just standing in. and there she is. that little girl with her bright blue hair, now drenched in red. her lips are still blue from the lollipop, but she’s grown pale and cold. and gone. and sevika couldn’t protect her.
before she closes her eyes, she takes in the scene one more time. piles of hair tangled together and skin melted into the floor. she’s seen some pretty outrageous things as a security guard, but never this. tears pour out of her eyes, the pain in her body making her wish she would’ve been taken out too. by what, she doesn’t know. she isn’t aware of where she is or what’s going on, all she knows is the pain in the left side of her body, and it’s all she’ll feel for the rest of her life.
iii. LIFT UP THE RECEIVER, I’LL MAKE YOU A BELIEVER
“sevika…?”
she blinks awake with a gasp, eyes wide as she takes in her surroundings. children’s toys litter the floor, flyers and posters on the wall, bright white lights beaming down on her— and her physical therapist standing about 2 feet away from her. sevika grumbles in embarrassment, trying to shake off her sleepiness as quickly as possible.
her therapist offers a sympathetic smile before waving her back. sevika curses those waiting room chairs for being so comfortable, or maybe it’s just because she doesn’t get much shut eye at home. her back is so weak and achy that she feels as if she’ll snap under the weight of gravity, but she tries to play it cool in front of her poor doctor. she’s already embarrassed herself enough today, she won’t let herself collapse in pain on the floor of the office.
“nice to see you again, sevika.” her PT smiles, “how’ve you been?”
how has she been? what a long list she could go down. first of all, she’s in so much physical pain she can barely sit upright without passing out. next, she hasn’t been sleeping well due to her night terrors, and she’s waken up soaked in sweat and shivering more often than not. finally, if this list has to end anywhere, she feels jealous. of the happy families she sees every day, of the kids with friends, of the adults with well paying jobs.
“i’ve been… surviving.” she says, purposefully ignoring the plethora of problems she has. this is physical therapy, she reminds herself. not the damn loony bin. get ahold of yourself.
“well, surviving is a great start.” her therapist says with a faux smile. “how has the pain in your shoulders felt since i last saw you? better? worse?” and with that, her voice trails off into the distance with sevika zoning out.
her poor arm gets bent in every single direction you can think of, even ones it’s not supposed to. she bites back her screams of agony and replaces them with little pained growls and whimpers. every time her arm gets bent slightly behind her, a shock of pure pain shoots through her spine and leaves her a shivering mess. the pain within her feels electric, like she’s about to burst into flames or something. it’s the worst thing she’s ever felt.
the tears in her eyes threaten to spill more than ever, but by some miracle she manages to hold them back. until she gets back to her apartment, at least.
as soon as she steps through the front door, she makes a beeline for her bedroom. burying her face in her pillow, she lets it all out. her pained scream is barely muffled by the pillow, but she continues to scream until her throat feels like sandpaper and she realizes that she can’t breathe.
gasping for air, she flops over. her vision is spotted and blurry from a mix of tears, pain, and exhaustion. she stares at her ceiling and cries while she chokes on her own staggered breaths, and she barely registers that someone’s knocking on her door until she hears her name called through it.
“sevika? are you alright, hon?” is followed by another few pounds on her door. she doesn’t want her anyone to call the cops, so she slowly and reluctantly rises from bed, grabbing onto her door frame to steady herself.
it’s her neighbor. curse these walls for being too thin.
sevika groans and rolls her eyes before opening the door, trying her best to plant an indifferent look on her face although it looks more like a pout. the old woman smiles up at her, glad to see that she’s alive after that screaming, but sevika can’t return the smile.
“what’s wrong? did something happen?” her neighbor asks.
“nothing’s wrong.” sevika grumbles, lying through her teeth.
“i know that’s not true honeybun, your eyes are bright red and your cheeks are wet with tears.” her neighbor coos. sevika thinks it’s annoying. she doesn’t want anyone’s sympathy.
“i’m alright, thank you.” she says sternly, although her neighbor keeps pushing.
“may i come in?”
sevika doesn’t answer, instead watching as the old lady walks past her and plants herself on sevika’s couch. “come chat with me.” she invites with a warm, grandmotherly smile.
“i’m not in the mood for chatting.” sevika glares.
“oh, dear,” her neighbor chuckles to herself. “i’m afraid i’m too mature to have you groan at me like a teenager. come sit.”
sevika comes up with another response, but it’s not a very friendly one. the angel on her shoulder tells her not to say it, that the poor woman is just trying to help, that sevika’s already been so much of a bother that she should just shut her mouth. but the devil on her shoulder is fed up right now, and sevika always favors the devil.
“i’m afraid you’re not an ounce as mature as i am. you haven’t been through what i have, and you have no place to tell me what to do in my own fucking apartment.” but sevika does listen to the lady, because she takes a seat right next to her on the couch.
her neighbor ignores her emotional outburst and instead asks “are you hungry?”
“no.” sevika scowls.
“tired?”
“exhausted.”
“sad? lonely? you’d do good with a pet around here. or a few plants. i can grow you a—”
“no thanks. i don’t need a… plant. or an animal.” sevika spits.
“hmm. you live a sad life, don’t you. i wonder what you were like before you came here.” her neighbor sighed.
“i don’t owe you an explanation. that’s private.”
“sevika, you can talk to me if you need to. i’m only one door down the hall, retired, it’s just me and my cats. i’ll always be available if you need something.”
“i don’t need anything.” sevika rolls her eyes. “much less your pity.”
“okay, fine then. if you won’t let me help you, i’ll make someone else help you.”
she reaches into her pocket and digs through her wallet, pulling out a thin paper card and handing it over to sevika. “come with me tomorrow. it’d do you wonders.”
“to… church? no thanks, i’ll pa—”
“okay, great. i’ll see you tomorrow morning then.” her neighbor says, rising and making her way to the door.
“i didn’t say i’d come.”
“i’ll pick you up at eight. better set an alarm.”
“i didn’t agree to co—” and sevika gets cut off by the slam of her own door before she can finish her sentence. whatever, when tomorrow rolls around she’ll just ignore her neighbor, pretending to be asleep or something.
she leans back on her couch, staring at the ceiling and wishing she had a pillow to grip onto, to scream into. another thing to add to the list. she stares at the ceiling instead, balling her hands up into fists as rage turns into sadness and sadness turns back into exhaustion.
it takes everything in her not to crawl to bed, but she stands and walks herself eventually. her shoulders sag and her torso slumps forward as she takes one step at a time, her posture making her about 4 inches shorter than she really is. her bed cradles her weight though, and she sighs into her cold, wet pillow once the tension in her body is released. it’s the best feeling ever. and before she knows it, her eyes are shutting, mind going back to that deep, dark memory.
——
7:30am rolls around, and sevika curses herself for waking up this early. now she’ll have to pretend to be asleep in front of her neighbor, and she’s not a good actress. she rolls out of bed, dragging herself to the bathroom to get her day started. she tries to avoid the mirror, but it’s impossible.
she stares at herself for a while, the uncomfortable feeling of someone else looking back at her creeps up on her. she doesn’t look like herself, she doesn’t look like sevika. she looks sick, tired, hurt, starving. the thought of food makes her stomach twist, she hasn’t eaten anything real in over a full day. maybe she should go easy on her neighbor and ask for a home-cooked meal. maybe.
her hair is fluffy and frayed at the ends, and her roots feel eternally greasy. her depression is so bad, she either showers daily in an attempt to scrub the hallucinated blood off, or she won’t shower for weeks. it’s like she can never win the battle.
a knock at the door disrupts her thoughts. “sevika?”
a groan involuntarily escapes her as she silently opens the bathroom door and creeps out into the living room. “sevika, wake up, it’s almost eight.”
she freezes, praying that her movements on top of her creaky floorboards go unobserved.
“sevika, dear, i can hear you on the other side of the door. you’re not fooling anyone.”
fuck. she’s not getting out of this, is she.
with another groan, she opens the door and sighs. the old lady smiles up at her, dressed in some sort of church attire. “grab a coat,” she says. “it’s chilly out.”
what else does sevika have to do, other than follow the orders? she’s trapped now. following this sweet old woman to church on a sunday. something she never thought she’d do. but she yanks a jacket over her shoulders and shoves her shoes on, not bothering to lock the door behind her. she claims she has nothing to lose in there, but that’s just because she lost her own apartment key a while ago.
she almost smiles when her neighbor shoves her into her car. almost. but she’s not exactly capable of that anymore. it’s so luxurious. she has a heater and a radio and a seat. it’s almost like she’s in a spaceship, marveling at all of these features that would make her life so much easier.
her excitement reaches it’s end as they pull into the parking lot of the building, and that pit in her stomach returns as she climbs out of the small car. if her legs worked a fraction of how well they used to, she’d run so far away from this place.
everything about it is repelling her. the building is huge, bright, colorful, everything she’s seen in her recurring nightmares. it smells like dust and coffee, children’s art line the walls, along with some more formal paintings and portraits. the ceiling seems to be made of glass— the kind that shatters easily and can slice your hands up.
the windows are colored with stained glass that portray different scenes. people made of bright colors dance and pose and feast all around them, their dazzling figures being illuminated by the white sunlight shining through the windows. it’s the kind of beauty she was attracted to years ago, the kind that nearly got her killed.
“sevika, come sit with me.” her neighbor says, derailing her train of thought. she practically has to drag sevika over to the pews as she stares at the buildings interior, feelings of fear and comfort flooding through her veins and stunning her.
she’s too busy taking in her surroundings to realize that the service has started, and she’s quickly reminded of how much she hates places like this. a large, beautiful room full of people. a community. something bad could happen at any moment, and she’d be in no shape to help any of them.
small droplets of blood fill her mouth one at a time as she anxiously chews on her bottom lip. she knows it’s a bad habit, but it’s oddly comforting. the metallic taste is just a reminder that she’s still alive, that the blood is still inside of her body instead of splattered across the floor. gross, ugh, don’t think of that.
in an attempt to tune out the preacher’s sermon, she decides to study the people around her. it’s a harsh reminder of past events, she swears she can almost recognize the faces of the dead bodies in them. all ages, young and old. parents cradling their newborn babies, seniors admiring their lover’s white hair, kids swinging their feet out in front of them in an attempt to stay occupied.
she tries to push these morbid thoughts away from her brain, but it’s not easy. it’s her minds default, it’s why she hasn’t stepped foot in any sort of large building in years. by some miracle, she’s survived a bombing once, how on earth could she do it again?
but to her luck, the ceremony is over before she knows it, and she’s about to escape before her neighbor yanks her back by the collar of her jacket. she pouts, rolls her eyes, and turns around to face her.
“meet my neighbor, sevika. this is her first time joining us.”
“nice to meet you, sevika.” and the man sticks his arm out to sevika, awaiting a returned hand shake. she doesn’t return it though, and she doesn’t even look at him. instead she just stares at the floor and says “yeah… thanks…”
her neighbor nudges her shoulder for being rude, but she doesn’t owe anyone anything. she doesn’t know if the man who tried to shake her hand is same guy who’s been blabbering on this whole time, but if it is, she doesn’t want anything to do with him.
“sevika, what the hell was that? i didn’t bring you here to be rude, i brought you here to learn something.”
sevika scoffs with a fake laugh, “i don’t need you to parent me.”
“then stop acting like a kid, let’s go meet more people.”
how was she gonna get out of this? oh well, in only a few hours she’ll be home again, resting and recharging in bed under the covers. she follows behind her neighbor like a lost puppy, not even looking in front of her, just staring down and making sure that she’s following the correct pair of shoes.
you greet sevika’s neighbor warmly, she’s a familiar face you’re always glad to see. sevika’s figure almost startles you when you peek up, almost. but you get yourself under control, asking the sweet older woman “who’s this?”
“this is sevika, my neighbor. it’s her first time joining us today.”
“oh! nice to meet you, sevika.” you smile, keeping your hands to yourself. sevika doesn’t know what to think of you, you’re so… different from everyone else here. you’re not dressed like everyone else, you look more like sevika than you do the others. but she wouldn’t expect someone like you to work at a church, would she? god, how the world has changed.
“nice to meet you.” she says, not bothering to attempt a weak smile, but giving a cordial nod in your direction anyways.
“we hope to see you around here soon. if you need anything, you know where to find me. although, you look like you’re in good hands.” you offer, giving sevika’s neighbor a friendly pat on the shoulder. sevika watches you walk off, wishing she could dissect you a little more. but she doesn’t hesitate to exit the building when her neighbor declares that it’s time to leave.
“are you hungry?” her neighbor asks once they’re in the car.
sevika’s mouth speaks before she can stop herself, “yes. starving.”
“good, you’ll come over for brunch. that wasn’t a question, by the way.” she smiles.
sevika rolls her eyes and almost smiles back. almost. but the ache in her lower back is making it hard to be happy in this moment.
her neighbor’s apartment is quite grandmotherly, to put it nicely. she has two cats— a black ball of fluff named “fluffy” and a skinny, all white cat named “snowy”, both of which were named by her grandchildren. there are plants and paintings and handmade quilts littering her place, every one of them having a story behind it. it’s cute, sure, but a little bit too maximalist for sevika’s enjoyment. at least she has furniture. good quality furniture.
a steaming teacup is placed in front of her seat at the counter, and both of the cats jump up to check it out. in all honesty, sevika thinks it’s kinda gross to live with animals. she doesn’t know where the hell those cats paws have been, and if it were up to her they wouldn’t be on the kitchen counter.
the cats waddle over to sevika, getting too close to comfort in an attempt to investigate the strange woman sitting at their counter. once she’s deemed safe, they raise their backs and point their tails up as if to ask for pets, but sevika scowls and awkwardly scoots away from the strange animals.
“not a cat person?” her neighbor laughs.
“no… not an animal person in general, really.”
“they’re sweet. give ‘em a pet.”
“no thanks…”
“fine. but you better eat up before they eat it for you.” her neighbor says, shoving a tall stack of pancakes in front of sevika. it’s a heavenly sight, and she almost feels bad for eating it instead of staring at the masterpiece for a while longer.
but that hungry pit in her stomach only grows and shoves itself against her stomach, so she has no choice to dig in. not that she’s complaining, and they taste absolutely divine. she grows uncomfortable again, last time she felt divine was the worst day of her life. it’s almost like a curse— one that never lets her feel true enjoyment.
fluffy and snowy meow loudly at her neighbor for food too, so she grabs a small dish and starts plopping some wet food onto it. again, sevika can’t fathom why someone would do that. on the counter? where she’s eating? but it’s not her apartment, so she keeps her mouth full of pancakes to stop the complaints.
she can’t wait to get home. checking the time, she realizes that it’s now afternoon. this has been the most eventful day she’s lived through in a while, and that triggers her anxiety to tone everything down. she needs a drink and a nap, so she thanks her neighbor and heads one door up the hall to her own apartment.
her door is unlocked, just how she left it, and she realizes that the only valuable thing in her apartment might be her liquor cabinet. maybe she should get a lock after all. add that to the list.
she guzzles down some whiskey directly from the bottle before stopping to take a breath. with how much she’s been drinking lately, she barely gets drunk anymore. it’s not fair, she might just have to find something stronger. jesus christ, i’m gonna drink myself to death. before she has a chance to bury herself back in bed, her phone rings. how strange, she hasn’t gotten a call in years. but what choice does she have, other than to lift up the receiver?
“yes?” she groans.
“hello,” you greet, a bit disturbed that someone would answer the phone with just ‘yes?’ “is this sevika?”
“who are you?”
“i’m from the church, we met earlier.”
“oh… okay… so…?”
“so, i wanted to tell you that i meant it when i said i hope you join us again. it was nice to see you, we rarely get any newcomers in this small town but… i can tell that you’re different.”
“okay…” sevika says. there is no way she’s stepping foot in that building again. jesus christ himself could not drag her in there.
“so… you’ll come?”
“i still need to be convinced.”
“easy. but i’ll need you to show up for that.”
“maybe.” she says, and you feel like you can hear a hint of promise in her voice.
“okay, well, have a good rest of your day. i’ll see you soon. maybe.” you say, about to hang up.
“how did you get my number?” she questions.
“helen gave it to me.”
“…who?”
“your neighbor? helen?”
“oh… right.” how could she not know her own neighbor’s name?
“sevika, don’t worry.” you assure her. “i’ll help you believe.” and the line goes quiet.
iv. I WILL DELIVER, YOU KNOW I’M A FORGIVER
that day was the first time you saw sevika, and you wish you could live in that moment forever. she was so soft and so sharp at the same time, and it was surprisingly harmonious. her physical features were striking, she looked almost… scary. but that scariness was easily cancelled out by her gentleness.
her cheeks were thin and sunken, but her chin effortlessly faded into the smooth skin of her neck. her nose stuck straight out of her head, but there was a slight curve to it that made you wanna run a gentle fingertip over it. her eyes were bright and silver, but they were so big and so round. she was tall, sticking up higher than anyone else in the room, but her hips and thighs were so plush and thick, she took up just the right amount of space.
she was just plain gorgeous. usually you’d scold yourself for thinking about another woman this way, but you’d been slowly coming to terms with your sexuality. as long as you don’t act on it.
from the moment you laid eyes on her, you knew you had to guide her. it was like some sort of fate or destiny. here’s this immaculate woman showing up in front of you in desperate need of help, your help specifically. it was a perfect mission, you’d do anything in her power to earn her trust and to help her feel that faith.
by some miracle, she answered the phone when you rang. judging by her previous attitude, you almost expected her to storm back down to the church and smack you across the face. your conversation was unproductive, sure, but it was a good start. well, if she decides to show up, that is. you don’t doubt her, if anything you can just ask her neighbor to force her to tag along again.
the mental image of her floats around in your head all day. what are you gonna do when she does show up? give her some sort of speech? she’ll probably just tune you out like she does to the rest of the world. you wonder why she acts the way she does, there’s no way anybody with a normal life could act this guarded. you just hope she opens up eventually, you’d kill to get to know her.
sevika’s not amused. she doesn’t want anyone’s help, or to pretend to have faith in something that’s all just make believe. really, the only thing she wants is some peace and quiet, and for the pain in her shoulders to lessen. before returning to her den, she sluggishly trudges to the kitchen cupboards, yanking them open in search of some painkillers. to her luck, there are two small pills left, which she quickly downs. she chooses water over whiskey this time, shockingly, because she’s a little bit frightened by drinking herself to death. which is strange, and she wonders why she values her life so much.
no matter what you do, you can’t get this woman off of your mind. something about her makes you feel different than how other people make you feel, but you can’t tell what it is or why. you need a plan. you need to talk to her again. or at least some confidence would be handy. but instead of dwelling on it, you decide to go for a walk.
the walk doesn’t really work though, it actually does the opposite of clearing your mind. you have nothing to focus on, no work to do, so you just think. your mind runs wild the whole time. you’re so intrigued, so excited yet nervous, you feel like it’s almost a craving. almost, because you’re not really sure what a craving is. not until you meet her, at least.
after swallowing her pain meds, sevika crawls back into bed, the heavy feeling of anxiety that settled over her chest slowly but surely fades, and she’s eased into a light afternoon nap. the plain white walls of her room offer some familiar comfort, but the more she looks at them, the more she’s reminded of the hospital. fuck, maybe she should try to decorate the place. and she really does need to go shopping later.
——
she wakes up nearly three hours later feeling more exhausted than before she slept. at least she feels a bit more calm, but the looming feeling of her responsibilities made her groan. another reason why she doesn’t want pets: it’s another mouth to feed, to walk, clean up after, bathe, spend time with. she can barely do those things for herself, how on earth could she do it for something else?
rather than pouting about her responsibilities, she makes the tough decision to get out of bed and get started with her day. get started meaning that it’s almost 6:00pm and she’s only just now attempting to complete her to-do list. and so what? she lives on her own terms. she doesn’t bother brushing her messy hair after her nap, even less to keep it out of her face with a little half ponytail. it never works anyways, the wind whips it all around you until it sticks to the sides of your face with humidity.
so, that’s it then, and she shoves her shoes and her coat on and leaves. the door stays unlocked, of course, and she makes her way down the stairwell and out of the building. there’s a small grocery store on her block which is conveniently located next to a liquor store. if she has the funds after buying her necessities, she’ll stop in there for a treat. actually, she’ll probably stop in there anyways, but she likes to think that she still has some self control left when it comes to drinking.
does she remember what she needed to buy? no. and did she bother to write down her mental shopping list as it came to her? nope! but it’ll come to her. hopefully. she spends the whole walk there trying to focus on what she needs to spend her money on and what she wants to spend her money on. she needs more painkillers, more snacks, some sort of decoration for her place, and… was there something else?
she crosses into the store and she’s immediately greeted by the sound of loud pop music buzzing through the speakers. great, so she’s overstimulated already. she’ll make it quick, she decides, it’s not like she wanted to be here in the first place.
sauntering down the aisles, she picks up everything she needs. at least, everything she remembers that she needs. she grabs a large bottle of extra strength ibuprofen, more bread and butter, microwave meals, milk and eggs, and what else? before she can think of another thing to add, she decides to just leave. if she thinks of anything else, she can always just come back later.
her shoulders sag under the weight of her basket, full of stuff that’ll probably just rot in her fridge. as she approaches the register, she sighs as the man behind it attempts to strike up a conversation with her. she’s not interested, she never has been, and she has no clue why he insists on chatting with her every time she’s there.
she doesn’t respond to the man the entire time she’s there, just staring daggers past him. she doesn’t even muster out a “good evening” or “goodnight”. i mean jesus, even a “fuck you” might’ve been polite. it’s not like she cares.
but she does stop by the liquor store on the way home, as we knew she would. she decides to treat herself, picking up not only one, but two bottles off of the shelf. whiskey and vodka, not cheap but it does the job. the money will come back around anyways. the man behind the counter, this time stoned out of his mind, asks her what she’s gonna do with the alcohol.
“what am i gonna do with it?” she repeats, obviously annoyed and confused. “what the fuck do you think?”
“mannnn, i bet you could make a hundred bottles of homemade mouthwash with this stuff. fucking awesome.”
sevika rolls her eyes and collects the large glass bottles, shoving them into her bag as gently as she can. she has no idea why everyone’s so interested in talking with her tonight, it’s like she’s wearing a glowing neon sign above her head that says “TALK TO ME!”
does she look approachable? happy? friendly? welcoming? no, obviously not. she must not be part of this inside joke the world is playing on her tonight.
so you’re surprised to see sevika when you’re out for your second walk of the night. pacing around in your own house wasn’t working, and all you wanted was some fresh air. well, maybe not fresh, but the temperature definitely did shock you. you almost walked right past her until you recognized her statuesque figure. she was across the parking lot, rolling her eyes and shoving the door to the liquor shop open as she stepped back outside.
huh. sevika at a liquor shop. not necessarily unusual for a person, but forbidden for you. you wonder if this is a ritual for her, if she’s gonna go home and get drunk or something, or maybe if she’s gonna split the bottle with some friends. does she even have friends?
you turn around and head in the same direction she does, hoping your paths cross before her quick, long strides can leave you behind. and you eventually catch up to her, pretending you had no idea you’d run into her, you greet her with a “oh, sevika! hey, i didn’t expect to see you here.” except, you did expect to see her here. you already spied her storming out of the liquor store. ugh, you’re such a bad liar.
“oh… hi.” she mumbles, a little disturbed by your sudden appearance, and already burnt out from the two people who’ve made small talk with her in the past hour. while you stand in front of her, she raises her eyebrow slightly as if to signal that she’s waiting for you to say something before she walks away.
“i’ll see you next week, yeah?” you remind her, not really sure of what to say. partly because the meeting is so sudden, and partly because this woman is breathtaking.
“yeah, maybe.” she agrees halfheartedly.
“i don’t want your ‘maybe’s sevika. i want you to say yes to me.” you challenge, huffing at her indecisiveness. “if you want me to help you, i need a yes.”
“help me with what?” she asks, pretending to be shocked and offended at your words. you stutter, staring up at her with a sorry look in your eyes.
“oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—”
“i’m just fucking with you.” she says, chuckling to herself and offering a small smile. and as if her face couldn’t get any more perfect, you notice a small gap between two of her top teeth. she’s so beautiful you feel like you’re gonna melt, even in this chilly autumn weather.
before you think about what you’re saying next, you blurt out a “tomorrow? can i see you tomorrow?”
she raises her eyebrows at your bluntness, the suggestion seems to come out of nowhere. but what else does she have to do? and she already feels bad for fucking with you all of the time, shouldn’t she just give in and attend whatever stupid meeting you have planned for her?
“i— i guess, yeah.”
“you guess?” you tease. “or you will show up?”
“i will. i’ll see you tomorrow.” she admits with a huff.
“good, i’ll see you tomorrow too then.” you say, and you offer her a small wave before walking past her and continuing with your walk. after seeing her, your mind automatically feels so much clearer considering the fact that she was the one occupying all of your thoughts.
sevika stands frozen in place as you walk away, holding her bag in her hand as she reflects on what she just agreed to. why the fuck would she say yes to that? she doesn’t believe in any of your religious bullshit, and she doesn’t care to try. but it’s too late, she’ll just have to let you down easy when tomorrow comes.
but when tomorrow does come, she decides to go a little bit easier on herself. it’s not like you’re trying to annoy her with all of your beliefs and jargon and whatnot, and she can tell that this actually does mean a lot to you. plus, she’s in a good mood after remembering that she bought two new bottles of alcohol. she even ate a little bit last night and managed to keep it all down, which is a rare occurrence for her. so yeah, it might be a good day.
the sun peeks out just a tiny bit from behind the clouds as she walks herself back to the church, which offers a nice, although minuscule, bit of warmth. you’re already there by the time she arrives, and you greet her with a warm smile and invite her down the long hallway to your ‘office’. it’s not technically a real office since you don’t do too much work other than filing papers and planning events, you just begged them to give you a room that you could sit alone in sometimes.
you don’t have any sort of plan on how you’re gonna convert sevika, or how to at least help her fix up her life a little bit, but you do wanna get to know her. so you start with that. you ask her where she’s from and if she’s lived here her whole life, and you’re surprised to learn that she used to work in new york. all the way across the country.
she hesitates to tell you why she left though, saying she’d rather save it for a later session when she gets more comfortable. which she regrets almost instantly, because she just solidified herself another few meetings like these. she tells you more, like how she was always close with her mother until she passed when sevika was only ten. and how she definitelty inherited some anger from her dad, even though she never liked him.
her childhood was interesting. to you at least. she was just stable enough to keep herself afloat, but unstable enough for her to be left with some sort of trauma. she moved out as soon as she reached eighteen and never looked back. she scoured for jobs that would be good for someone like her, someone broken but strong. resilient, you call it.
the two of you chat for nearly three hours, you asking questions after question and her answering nearly all of them. but the one question that you’re too scared to ask is this: what happened that turned her into… this? she said it had something to do with her job, something that just completely broke her and left her unable to snap back. but what was it? how bad could it have been? what job did she have? was it her fault? but you did agree to letting her tell you on her own terms, so you’ll just have to wait until she’s ready.
eventually your time is up, and you walk sevika back out of the double doors of the small building. she flashes you a small smile, one that you’re already obsessed with, and she turns to leave.
“wait.” you call after her, although she’s only about six feet away from you. “you don’t have a car?”
“no.”
“how did you get here?”
“i… walked…” she says, waiting for you to get to your point.
“all this way?”
“it’s only about a block and a half.”
“but— well…” now you feel bad. you didn’t know that you were forcing her to exercise her exhausted joints and muscles in this weather. sure, maybe she doesn’t mind, but if you were her you’d probably throw a tantrum. “do you want me to drive you?” you ask.
“sure, if you really want to.”
“of course i want to.” you say, and you practically drag her off of the sidewalk and shove her into the passenger side of your car. the drive is short, her building really is just about a block and a half away.
“i’ll see you next week.” you say.
“yeah, see you then.” she responds, and for once it doesn’t feel forced or awkward.
“and tell helen i say hi if you see her. assuming you know who she is?” you giggle.
“yes, i know my own neighbor.” she says, rolling her eyes and chuckling.
“just making sure…” you tease.
sevika just laughs and waves you goodbye through your front window, disappearing into the building and up the stairs. you don’t even register it— to busy with staring at her back— but eventually it hits you that she laughed. this mysterious, guarded woman laughed at something you said. and she spent the last three hours opening up to you about her life. and for the first time in quite a while, you feel like you’re finally good at your job.
——
sevika’s been following through on her promise, meeting you for exactly four weeks now. twenty eight days. you started out with just seeing her twice a week, then every other day, and now you see each other daily. she opened up to you about how much she hates the church setting, how it activates her fight or flight response and brings up old memories, so you switched to taking her to a small local cafe instead.
it’s great. you get to have real coffee, not the burnt stuff from the coffee pot in the church’s kitchen. you’ve also been forcing sevika to eat after learning that it’s been a struggle for her. nothing big, but you make sure she always has at least a muffin or a croissant in her stomach. you pick her up and driving her there too, which is good for her because she can finally relax instead of being worn out from walking everywhere.
she’s taken a liking to you, every morning she’s glad she wakes up because she knows she can see you again. it’s such a strange feeling, but she enjoys it. opening up to you wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be either. you listen so attentively, and you’re always careful to ask appropriate questions and give her a break without her even having to ask for one.
it’s never been easy for her to talk about what happened in her past, and she wishes she had the ability to forget about it completely. but it’s easier with you. every time her eyes grow wide and teary as she pictures the bodies, you change the topic and point at a cute dog outside of the window. or when she gets choked up, stumbling over her words because the brutality of the situation is just too much for her, you let her take her time.
the most memorable moment for her was when she told you about that kid with the blue hair. everything else, sevika managed to stay under control about. sure, the mangled body parts and the melted flesh was bad, but that fucking kid. her lips were still blue. she’d been so alive only moments earlier, smiling as sevika gave her a fist bump and held her in her arms, and she was gone just like that.
when she told you, she couldn’t help but break down in heavy sobs. you could feel your heart shatter at this— the story and sevika’s reaction to it. you scrambled from your side of the booth to hers, scooting in next to her and wrapping her up in a hug as she cried. to your surprise, she hugged you back. she hooked her chin over your shoulder, grabbed you tightly in her strong arms, and just let herself go.
it’s the most tranquility she’s ever felt, and it put all of her past therapists to shame. immediately after that day, the two of you were bonded. you’d do anything for her. be a shoulder to cry on, drive her to and from her various doctors appointments, and make sure she’s eating.
she’s started to trust you, and she agreed to going back to the church with you a few times a week. instead of taking your usual spot with the rest of the staff and speakers, you sit with her every time. sevika on your left, her neighbor on your right.
today you’re feeling particularly bold for some reason, you suspect it might be because of your friendship with sevika, but this feels different. well, you know how it feels, but you’re scared to admit it. although you’ll probably be fine, you’re hesitant to say it to yourself out of the fear that you’ll be thrown out of the church. yes, you like sevika, and sure, she is a beautiful woman. but you just can’t bring yourself to say it. to say that you have a real crush on her. to admit that you want her.
so instead of saying anything, you use your actions instead. glancing over both of your shoulders, you make sure that nobody important is looking in your direction before you snake your hand forward and wrap your hand around sevika’s. this action is the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone, and your cheeks are practically on fire with how hard you’re blushing. you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole building could hear your heartbeat right now.
sevika adjusts her fingers so that she’s gripping your hand firmly, and you feel so… dirty, almost. you know that this is nothing, but you’re scared and ashamed of what other people might think. but although it initially feels wrong, you settle down when you realize that nobody’s looking— even more that nobody cares— and it feels so right. her hands are surprisingly warm and soft, they feel so welcoming and familiar against yours.
maybe, just maybe, you’ll hold her hand more often. but for now, this is just a one-time occurrence.
she notices the panicked look in your eyes as you stare straight ahead. she tries to nudge you gently, but you’re in such a deep stupor that you don’t notice it.
“hey.” she whispers, elbowing you a bit harder than last time. “you okay?”
you realize now that she’s trying to talk to you, so you just squeeze her hand and give her a small nod, blinking your eyes a few times and trying to snap back into reality. once the ceremony is over, you stand and walk sevika and her neighbor to the door quickly.
“are you sure you’re alright?” she asks again.
“yeah, it’s nothing.”
“you know that… this works both ways, right?” she says, gesturing between both of your bodies. “if you need someone to talk to, i can listen.”
“i know, thank you.” you start. “but it’s not like that. it’s nothing… bad. i think? but i’m fine. or— i will be fine.” you say, stumbling over your words incredibly hard.
“you don’t seem fine to me.” she retorts.
“i am, thank you though. get home safely.” you choke out, missing a crucial part to your signature goodbye’s.
“…see you tomorrow?” she asks.
“oh, yes! see you tomorrow, i knew i was forgetting something.”
sevika flicks you on the forehead, before turning to leave. “get some rest, then.”
“i will.” you laugh, although it’s forced.
as soon as her and her neighbor are out of sight, you turn around and make a beeline for your office at the end of the hall. your eyes are glued to the floor, purposefully ignoring anyone’s gaze in case they try to chat with you.
the door clicks locked behind you, and you slump down in our office chair. with your head in your hands, you start to cry. the anxiety in your chest is just too much to handle, and you’re so upset with yourself. you’re upset because it felt so good to be that close to her, and you let yourself indulge in something you know you’ll never get to have. you allowed yourself to catch feelings, but you know you can’t go any further. you’ll have to stick with just thinking she’s pretty and sweet and yours, and watch her fall in love with another woman.
worst of all, she’ll probably fall in love with a woman who’s the total opposite of you. someone who’s experienced and not awkward and cool. and not you. and this really hurts to realize.
what are you supposed to do now? now that you’ve admitted how you feel to yourself, what else is there to do? you can’t ask her out on a date, that would be against everything your community believes in. but are you really supposed to just sit here and play along? it’s not fair. your adrenaline is so high right now that all you really want to do is run.
and that's just what you do. you don't even bother to use the exit door down the hallway, you just peel your window open and hop out of it. tears prickle your eyes and the frosty air nips at your skin, but it helps even out your overheating temperature. you’ve walked this route a millions times already, it’s nothing different but the gentle scenery offers a nice place to think.
you think about all of the sweet moments you’ve shared together, specifically about how much it means to you. you’ve never really had a friend like this before. sure, you’re convivial, but having someone like this was so different. she was yours. and you’d gladly be hers if she asked you to, but would she ask you to? would she ever ask someone like you to be hers?
but you also think about how much your religion means to you. you’ve been part of this for so long, working harder to have a strong sense of faith every single day. if you get with sevika, they could cut you off in an instant, and it would’ve all been for nothing. your reputation would be ruined, and if you’d ever wanna start over with another church, you’d have to leave this small town. leave your home.
it’s just not fair. why did god make you this way? for everyone else, falling in love with a man is no problem. they were made the right way, or at least know how to ignore their true feeling really well. was there some sort of secret lesson that you missed? that everyone is in on besides you?
once you get dizzy and out of breath, you find a stump to sit on and reflect. your shoes kick at the dirt underneath you, brain fuzzy as you try to decide on what to do. little bugs crawl around on the ground beneath you, each one of them having a family and a home. i wish i could have a family, you think. you can hear rain pattering on the leaves of the trees above you, but you stay dry. well, as dry as you possibly can be living this close to the ocean.
you don’t even realize how long you’ve been sitting here lost in your thoughts before the sky turns a lovely light shade of orange, and you realize you’d better leave now if you wanna get back before dark. the only thing on your mind as always is sevika.
sevika has been thinking about you all night too, wondering if you’re okay after the way you acted. she won’t push, she wants to give you time to open up to her the same way you did, but she just worries. and she misses the warmth of your hand in hers, although she could tell you were nervous. in her opinion, it was cute. she admires how gentle you are, how you always make sure others are alright before making sure you are alright. but whatever it is, she doesn’t doubt that you’ll be fine.
leaving your window open was a stupid idea, now your entire office is cold and there’s a puddle of rainwater leaking down the bottom of the window and onto the floor. but you’ve made up your mind. you need to call her. you know that she’s infinitely more experienced with these feelings than you are, so she’ll be able to help you, even if those feelings are about her.
she’s about to go to bed early when her phone rings again. she knows it’s you before she even picks up— you’re the only one with her number.
“yes?”
“…sevika.” you sob out, the small whimper of her name followed by sniffles and cries.
“holy shit, are you okay?” she asks frantically, scared that maybe you’re hurt or something.
“well… physically yes. but i just… miss you. i need to talk to you in person.”
“okay, yeah. i’m on my way.” she says, and she practically flies out of her building and down the street to get to you. it’s not late, but the sky is already pitch black due to how early the sun sets. you meet her at the door again when she arrives, and the sight of her instantly calms your nerves. she looks so worried, it makes your heart twist. you’re so in love and it’s all her fault.
she doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in her arms as you sob into her shoulder, and this gesture only makes you sob harder. because you’re so in love and you think you know which side you’re choosing. and it breaks your heart.
“what’s going on?” she asks, and you realize you’re still standing in the doorway.
“come inside, i’ll explain.”
“okay…” she whispers. “did something happen?”
“i have a question.”
“of course. ask me anything.”
“do you ever…” you trail off, trying to find the right words. “feel like… like you can’t live without someone? and you’d give up anything to be with them?”
“yeah, i guess i’ve felt that way before.” she admits quizzically.
“what’s it called?” you ask, although you already know the answer.
“love?” she guesses.
“sevika, can i tell you something?”
“yeah, go ahead.” she says, worried that maybe you’re about to admit to killing someone.
“i think…” you start, but you get interrupted by tears dripping past your eyes and down your cheeks.
“spit it out,” she prompts. “you can trust me.”
“i think i’m in love with you.” you blurt out, biting the bullet.
“oh…” she says, and she almost steps away from you before she realizes that you’re crying again. so she wraps you in another hug and rubs your back. you grip onto her so hard you can barely breathe, and you cry in her arms for so long that you’re brought to your knees. sevika holds you even after you fall the the floor, keeling before you as your knees give out.
she’s in love with you too, but she didn’t wanna say anything in case it made you uncomfortable. plus, she’s not really into corruption or anything, so she decided to just respect your boundaries. but eventually her joints grew sore of sitting on the floor, so she rose, holding your face in her hands and wiping up all of your tears as they fall.
v. REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH
every little thing about her attracted you. sevika was a lost soul, mysterious above all. a woman who needed help and direction but was so strong, you swore she could hold the whole world on her shoulders, no matter how much she’d whine about the pain. she complains about people— how there are too many of them and how they’re all stupid— but she’d give her life in a heartbeat to save them.
you couldn’t crack her, no matter how hard you tried.
she looked down at you with her silver eyes sparkling in the candlelight, her hair falling over her face in a silky curtain. you gasped as her thick hands took their place on either side of your head, each one cupping your cheeks so tenderly although they have a rough exterior. you always knew she was capable of being gentle.
you looked up at her from your position on your knees, her torso looking impossibly longer than usual. something comes over you, something that warms up your stomach until you feel so dizzy you feel the need to reach for something to steady yourself. unaware of just how much trouble this would get you in, you end up grabbing for her upper thighs. they’re so thick that your hands are almost completely flat, but they’re sturdy. perfect for grabbing onto.
she chuckles at your flushed state, huffing out an amused “it’s alright, you can touch me if you want. you won’t burst into flames.”
those two sentences make your cheeks heat up involuntarily. you know what she’s implying, and it makes you feel strangely electric. if you don’t burst into flames by this act of sinning, you’ll burst into flames due to how flustered you are. she does something to you that feels so enchanting, like some sort of spell she’s casted. you’ve been frozen in place for so long that you hardly register the soft caress of her thumbs against the apples of your cheeks. if she were medusa, you’d get turned to stone in an instant.
“sevika, what are you— we should—”
“what are you thinking about right now?” she asks, tauntingly putting an end to your stuttering mess of a sentence.
“uh— medusa. and you. you remind me of her.” you choke out, reaching up and gripping onto her biceps before hauling yourself up.
“how so?”
“i always feel like you put me under some kind of spell. like when i’m with you i’m frozen in place. in a good way.” you respond, your breath tickling her face as you gaze up at her from a closer distance this time.
most of your dizziness has relented, and now you sense something softer in the way sevika gazes at you. like she’s pleading for something she doesn’t know how to ask for. she stammers back, almost hitting the wall, and you grow concerned. the roles have shifted. little do you know, you’re in power now. she feels… weak. and needy. something tingly settles in her stomach, she can’t decipher whether it’s anxiety or horniness.
“sevika?” you ask with concern, slowly walking over to where she’s pressed against the wall. her chest heaves as she breathes deeply, and she shivers when you reach out to grab her hand. “are you feeling alright?”
“i don’t think i can do this anymore.” she confesses, her big, silver eyes growing glossy with tears. “i’m— i can’t do this to you.”
“what are you talking about?” you attempt to soothe, worried that maybe she’s suddenly gotten possessed or something.
“you belong here, sevika. you’re not doing anything wrong. if anything, it’s me who should back off right now.”
“it’s not about that.” she sighs, unable to meet your gaze, her eyes instead settling for your lips. a sight she’s seen many times before in her most erotic fantasies.
“what are you feeling right now?” you ask, your therapist persona settling over you in case she’s about to reveal more of her past trauma.
“i… i can’t say it.” she whispers, now solely focused on the curve of your lips and how they’re still shining from the last time your tongue trailed over them.
“you can trust me.” you whisper back. “always.”
sevika studies your words in her mind, hoping that you’d still mean them if you could see the thoughts running wild in her mind right now. she inches closer to you and her nose almost brushes yours. the tension in the room makes her squirm, thighs pressing together in an attempt to soothe the ache between them. somehow, in some strange way, this feels better than sex. better than anything she’s ever smoked, any liquid she could get drunk on.
you are her intoxicant. her stronger substance. her higher power. her breath of fresh air in this humid town. you are what she’s been searching for.
before she makes another move, she pauses. you’re looking at her with such concern, such love, her heart feels like it’s gonna burst. she theorizes that you’re aware of exactly what she’s thinking, but she has no way to know. sevika wonders how you’d react if she leaned forward and kissed you right now.
you have a sneaking suspicion that she’s thinking of something… lustful right now. it shows in her eyes. wide with pupils big and blown out, and the silver in them is practically glittering. she looks pretty, you think, and soft. and although it’s against almost everything you believe in, you probably wouldn’t mind if she leaned in right now and just—
her lips come crashing against yours, a beautiful harmony of carnal aggression and tender care. gravity suddenly feels about twenty times stronger, and you near collapse in sevika’s strong arms. instead of that, you regain your balance after stumbling and back her against the wall. her back hits it with a thud, and she whimpers into your mouth. she whimpers.
it’s as if everything you’ve ever believed in suddenly floods out of your mind. you don’t care which god sees you kissing another woman with such animal desire. somehow it doesn’t matter to you anymore. all that matters is sevika. her safety, her trust, her pleasure.
for once, you allow yourself to feel this way. although it feels wrong, it’s so freeing. you’re an adult for god’s sake, and you’ve missed out on so much due to the strict rules of the church. you want this, you deserve this. after all, it is technically your job to guide sevika, to make her feel good. how is this any different?
as her lips part, you take the chance to slide your tongue over hers. just a gentle brush, but the warm heat of her mouth drives you crazy. her hands claw at your hips, pulling you closer until there’s no gap between the pair of you. this level of closeness isn’t something you’re used to, but fuck, it feels so right.
you can feel the way her thighs tighten when she squirms and clenches them together, feel her own tits rub against yours through your clothes. the intimacy of the moment almost feels awkward, especially because it’s completely silent other than the sounds of your lips smacking together. but before you can dwell on the embarrassment crashing over you, sevika grounds you by moaning your name into your mouth.
as if you weren’t already turned on, this flips a switch and activates something in you that’s a hundred times stronger. both of you pant when you pull back, staring into the silver pools of sevika’s irises. you need her. now. in every way possible.
“take your clothes off.” you demand. sevika nods momentarily, but she hesitates.
“are you sure? we don’t need to— if you’re not comfortable with it that’s fi—”
“now, sevika.” you huff at her attempt to be gentlemanly, but you know she’s craving this as much as you are.
without another word, she strips herself of her shirt, leaving her in just a black sports bra and jeans. you halt your own undressing to stare at her. and god. she’s fucking perfect. her abdomen carries the remnants of what you assume used to be a thick six pack of abs. and although you can’t exactly see them yet, her tits are wide and heavy looking, her ribs poking out slightly under them.
something that you didn’t expect to turn you on is her happy trail. she’s got a thick line of dark, coarse hair running from her belly button all the way down to—
her pants drop to the floor as you continue to stare at her, and your eyes trail lower and lower until they reach the ground. her thighs look impossibly thicker, and you’re surprised about how much she complains about her body. she looks so strong, like nothing could ever hurt her. and as for being insecure? impossible for someone who looks as good as she does. you’d do anything to make her aware of just how beautiful she is.
as she stands almost naked before you, she peeps out a timid “your turn.”
before you think twice, you tackle her to the floor, crushing her lips under yours and shoving your tongue back into her mouth. she whimpers when she hits the ground, albeit mostly out of pain instead of pleasure. you slightly pull away with a gasp, concerned about potentially hurting her— the opposite of your intentions.
“fuck, sorry.” you groan against her lips. “did i hurt you?”
“it’s alright.” she responds. “worth it to have a pretty thing like you on top of me.”
with that, you’re kissing her even deeper, grabbing onto the back of her head to get a better angle with your tongue. she shuffles slightly under you, bucking her hips up as she unbuttons your own pants. shit, you think to yourself, i’ve never done this before.
your bottoms are quickly discarded, sevika throws them somewhere behind you the second they’re off. you’re dying to get your hands on her tits, but you don’t know how to ask. it’s a good think she can always tell what you’re thinking, because she reaches up to hook her thumbs under her bra and yank it off. and god, you were right. her tits are wide and heavy, they’re so smooth and round with the most perfect brown nipples sitting proudly in the center of each one.
you lean forward to give each one a kiss, just a gentle brush, but it doesn’t really satisfy your craving for her. you pout, you’re so horny that it hurts. no matter what article of clothing she removes, it’s not enough. you just wanna crawl inside of her and live there.
“what’s wrong?” she asks.
“i need you.”
“have you ever had sex before?”
“no. i have no idea what i’m doing.”
“guess it’s my turn to guide you.” she laughs, and although the joke was stupid, you giggle too. you didn’t know it could be this fun.
she shuffles under you as she slides her boxers off, and you almost drool at the sight of her bush. it’s just so… beautiful. and intimate. she pats your hips as a signal to scoot off of her, and she spreads her legs before manhandling you to sit your cunt on top of hers. as soon as you connect your cunt with hers, you swear you black out.
it all feels so good. she keeps spreading her legs wider to help you get a better angle against her clit, and you can feel it throbbing against yours. you thought holding her hand was intimate, but this is so much more than you could’ve imagined.
“fuck, sevika.” you moan, tears crashing over you again and dripping onto her cheeks now. “you’re so beautiful.”
she groans at this, tears washing over her too. she hasn’t felt beautiful in so long, and here you are completely undoing her insecurities. all of the scars on her face, cheeks, neck, arms, and torso get kissed. you trail your fingers along some, your tongue along others. you want her to feel loved. you want her to feel the exact same way that she makes you feel.
“you’re beautiful too.” she admits sheepishly. “i can’t believe i haven’t fucked you sooner.”
this flusters you. it’s hard for you to believe that anyone can just be this confident saying things like that, especially because you’re not used to it. but it feels so good to be desired. to have the woman of your dreams using you to get off.
you’re both so sensitive that it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum. sevika’s catches her first after you tell her how beautiful her scars are, even though she used to believe they were the ugliest things known to mankind. she gasps as she cums, her thick cream leaking out of her cunt and down her ass.
you eventually follow after her when she readjusts, moving one of her hands down from your neck onto your hip. she grinds up into you, and your clit meets hers at such an angle that you cum with a scream. it’s dizzying. you gasp and moan and writhe as your orgasm crashes down over you. considering that it’s your first, you weren’t expecting it to be so enveloping. you were taught that sex was unholy, gross, sinful, and a plethora of other negative adjectives.
but it’s not.
you imagine that this is what heaven feels like, a shock of pleasure that runs through your body and leaves you panting and reeling. and it’s fun. as soon as you come down, sevika’s congratulating you on a good job and holding you close. you cry again, but this time not out of fear, out of certainty. you have it all figured out. you’ve just felt the best sensation of your life and here’s the love of your life smiling up from under you.
and so sevika holds you for another few minutes. yeah, you’re both naked in the middle of church, and yeah you’d be burned at the stake if anyone ever found out. but you wouldn’t mind that, as long as you have sevika with you.
“sevika?” you ask after a long while of silent kisses and tickling breaths.
“yeah?”
“i think we need to get out of here.”
“alright. where to?”
“i dunno. let’s leave the country.”
sevika laughs at this, and it’s a sound prettier than anything you’ve ever heard. something you’ll never get sick of. “fuck, i love you so much.”
but before convincing her to leave the country with you, you drive her to a small 24 hour diner down the street and have dinner together. it��s a real date, although all of those coffee shop meeting have gotta count for something too. you hold her hand across the table, this time not afraid, and share a milkshake just like they do in the movies.
so yeah, maybe things didn’t work out for you with this certain group of people, and maybe it does still take a while for you to get over your fear of societal rejection, but sevika is there for you every step of the way. as your girlfriend. officially.
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OK HAIII if you made it all the way through my the treacherous jungle of my yap and you’re reading this, thank you so much!!!! i poured my entire heart and soul (and pussy) into this so i hope u enjoyed hehehe :P special thanks to pluto, rayray, eren, and lyss for allowing me to yap about this fic to them, i couldn’t have done it without you guys 🥹 my favorite people in the world right here, MWAH here’s a kiss from ennabear <3 and another thanks to the rest of my mutuals for putting up with the empty promises of “coming soon” at least it’s actually finished now!! i love all of you, let me know what you thought of this one!!! comments and reblogs are very highly appreciated 🤎🤎
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smokin-salmon · 6 months ago
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HAPPY (very, very late) BIRTHDAY MIRABELLE!!
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