Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

you got poisoned

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady yourself. The room around you swayed, colors blurring at the edges of your vision. Something was wrong—terribly wrong.

Your stomach churned, a sickly heat crawling up your throat. You barely made it two steps before your legs buckled, sending you crashing to the floor.

Distantly, you heard Sevika’s voice, sharp and urgent, but it was muffled, like she was calling to you from underwater.

“The fuck—?” Heavy boots stomped closer, then strong hands gripped your shoulders, hauling you up. Her face came into focus—eyes wide, brows furrowed in something close to panic.

“Sugar? Hey, stay with me.” One hand cupped your cheek, the other gripping your arm, holding you steady. But even through the haze, you could feel the tension in her grip—she was scared.

Your lips parted, but no words came out, only a strained breath. Your body felt like it was burning from the inside out, sweat slicking your skin.

“Shit.” Sevika’s voice was lower now, but not softer—dangerous, like she was seconds from ripping someone apart. “What the fuck did they give you?”

Your head lolled forward, forehead bumping against her chest. Her arms wrapped around you immediately, steadying you, fingers digging into your back.

“We’re leaving. Now.” Her tone left no room for argument. She scooped you up with ease, carrying you like you weighed nothing.

The cool air outside barely registered against your feverish skin. The city blurred past, and you barely noticed the way people moved out of Sevika’s path, like they could feel the fury rolling off her.

“Stay awake, doll.” Her voice was close, her breath warm against your temple. “You hear me? You don’t get to check out on me.”

Your eyelids were heavy, your limbs like lead, but you forced out a small nod. It wasn’t much, but it was enough—Sevika’s grip tightened just a little, a silent promise.

The next thing you knew, you were laid out on a bed, Sevika barking orders at someone, her voice sharp, commanding. Metal clanked, bottles rattled—whoever she had working on you was moving fast.

Her hand found yours, fingers wrapping around yours tightly, grounding you. “You’re gonna be fine,” she murmured, softer now, only for you. “I’ve got you.”

You blinked up at her, vision still blurry, but you could see the tightness in her jaw, the way she refused to let go.

“I won’t let you go, sugar.” A thumb brushed against your knuckles, a rare gentleness in the midst of the chaos. “You’re mine. And I ain’t losin’ you.”

The last thing you felt before the darkness took over was the steady pressure of her hand in yours, unyielding, unmoving.