Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

You have hallucinations

• The room is dark, quiet except for the faint hum of Zaun outside the window. You sit on the bed, knees drawn to your chest, staring into nothing. Sevika watches from the doorway, her metal arm folded across her chest, frowning. She’s noticed you’ve been off for days now.

• She steps closer, her boots heavy against the floor. “You haven’t slept, sugar.” Her voice is low, steady, but there’s a flicker of concern beneath it.

• You don’t respond, your fingers gripping your arms so tightly your knuckles are pale. Sevika sits on the edge of the bed, careful, like you might break if she moves too fast. Her hand reaches out, brushing against yours. “Talk to me.”

• A flash of movement catches your eye, and your head snaps to the corner of the room. There, in the shadows, you see them. Your parents. Their faces are hollow, gaunt, eyes burning with anger. They’re not really there—you know that. But they don’t disappear.

• “You let us die,” your father’s voice hisses, cold and sharp. “You could’ve saved us.” Your mother’s silent glare is worse, cutting through you like a blade.

• You shrink back, shaking your head. “I didn’t,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I tried—I tried to—”

• Sevika’s hand tightens around yours. “Hey, doll. What are you talking about?” Her tone is firmer now, trying to ground you, but you pull away, retreating into yourself.

• “They’re right there,” you stammer, pointing to the corner. “They won’t stop— They won’t stop blaming me.”

• Sevika looks to where you’re pointing, sees nothing, but the haunted look in your eyes sends a pang through her chest. She shifts closer, her flesh hand cupping your cheek. “There’s no one there, princess. It’s just us.”

• You press your hands to your head, trying to drown out their voices. Your father’s accusations grow louder, his words cutting deeper, and your mother’s expression twists into something hateful. “You should’ve been the one to die,” he snarls.

• “Shut up,” you mutter, your voice breaking. “Shut up, shut up—”

• Sevika pulls you into her arms, holding you tightly. “They’re not real,” she murmurs against your hair, her voice rough but desperate. “You hear me? Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real.”

• You sob into her chest, your nails digging into her vest as if she’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “It’s my fault,” you choke out. “They’re dead because of me.”

• Her jaw clenches, and for a moment, she doesn’t know what to say. She hates seeing you like this—so broken, so consumed by ghosts she can’t fight for you. But she presses her lips to your temple, her voice softer than it’s ever been. “You didn’t kill them, doll. Whatever happened—it wasn’t your fault.”

• The hallucinations don’t fade, but her warmth steadies you. You cling to her, her words a lifeline as she keeps whispering, “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

• Hours pass. The shadows in the corner stay, but their voices grow faint, drowned out by Sevika’s steady presence. She stays with you, her fingers running through your hair, her metal arm cradling your waist protectively.

• “Whatever’s haunting you,” she says eventually, her voice low and gravelly, “it doesn’t get to have you. You’re mine, princess. Not theirs.”

• You don’t reply, but you nod against her chest, her heartbeat grounding you as she keeps you safe in the only way she knows how.