Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

Sevika rescues you

(Part two to "You got kidnapped")

• Reaching the hideout, she wouldn’t bother with subtlety. Her first strike would be brutal, announcing her presence with the kind of force that sends a clear message: she’s here to take back what’s hers.

• Anyone foolish enough to stand in her way would be dealt with swiftly—her punches precise, her strikes unrelenting. "No hesitation. Every second counts."

• Her thoughts would flicker to you, wondering if you were hurt, scared, or blaming yourself. That thought alone would make her attacks even more ferocious.

• As she carves a path through the hideout, she’d keep her movements efficient, not wasting energy but making sure no one gets a chance to strike back.

• When she finally finds you, her heart would momentarily stop at the sight of you—disheveled, maybe bruised, but alive. Relief would flood her, though it wouldn’t show on her face just yet.

• “Princess,” she’d say softly, her tone a stark contrast to the chaos she’d just caused. The nickname would carry a weight of affection, her soft spot for you breaking through her hardened exterior.

• She’d kneel in front of you, her hands brushing your face gently, her eyes scanning for injuries. "She’s alive. That’s all that matters."

• Without saying much, she’d undo any restraints holding you, her mechanical hand careful not to hurt you as she frees you.

• Her lips would press into a thin line, trying to control the emotions bubbling under the surface—relief, anger, guilt. "I should’ve been there. This shouldn’t have happened."

• Once you’re free, she’d pull you into a firm embrace, holding you tightly against her chest. Her hand would cradle the back of your head, her voice low. “You’re safe now, doll. I’ve got you.”

• Even as you cling to her, she’d keep her focus sharp, her eyes scanning the room for any remaining threats. "If anyone else shows up, they won’t live to regret it."

• If you’re too weak to walk, she’d scoop you up without hesitation, carrying you out with a protective grip. “Just hold onto me, sugar,” she’d murmur, her tone softer now that she knows you’re okay.

• As she carries you back to safety, her mind would race with plans for keeping you out of harm’s way in the future. "No one’s laying a hand on her again. Not while I’m breathing."

• Once you’re safe, she’d tend to your injuries herself, her rough hands surprisingly gentle. She’d work in silence, her brow furrowed as she focuses on making sure you’re okay.

• When it’s all over, she’d finally let herself relax, pulling you into her lap and wrapping her arms around you. “I’ve got you, princess,” she’d murmur, her voice thick with emotion. “No one’s ever taking you from me again.”