Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

You have a headache

Your head throbbed with every movement, the pain sharp behind your eyes, making it hard to focus on anything. Even the dim light in the room felt like too much, pressing against your skull like a vice.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow, hoping the pressure would ease the pounding. It didn’t. Every little noise—footsteps outside, the creak of a chair, even your own breathing—made it worse.

The sound of the door opening barely registered before you felt the mattress dip. A heavy hand rested on your back, warm and grounding. “What’s wrong, sugar?” Sevika’s voice was softer than usual, her usual rough edge smoothed out.

You didn’t answer right away, just let out another pained groan, turning your head slightly but keeping your eyes shut. “Headache… feels like my skull’s about to split in half.”

She didn’t say anything at first, just moved, her metal fingers brushing gently against your forehead, pushing some of your hair away. The cool metal felt nice against your burning skin, making you sigh quietly.

“You eat today?” Her voice was low, but there was something firm beneath it. You knew that tone—she was already thinking, already planning how to fix this.

You shook your head slightly, regretting it immediately as the pain flared. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Mhm.” She made a sound that was half disapproval, half understanding, then shifted again. The bed creaked slightly as she stood.

You wanted to protest, tell her to stay, but the words got lost somewhere in the haze of pain. Instead, you just curled further into yourself, waiting.

When she came back, the scent of something warm followed her. A bowl, a cup, something being set on the nightstand. “Sit up for me, doll.”

You whined, not in the mood to move, but then her arms were sliding under you, lifting you effortlessly until you were propped against her chest.

“Drink,” she muttered, holding a cup to your lips. The taste of herbal tea hit your tongue, slightly bitter but comforting. You swallowed slowly, feeling the warmth spread through your chest.

“Good girl,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

You felt her shift, grabbing something from the tray beside her before you felt a warm, damp cloth press against your forehead. “Better?”

You hummed in response, sinking further into her, letting her take care of you in the way only she could.

“Told you to take it easy,” she muttered, her fingers tracing soothing circles on your arm.

“Didn’t listen,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “No, you didn’t.” Then, more gently, “That’s alright, sugar. I got you.”

And with the way she held you, firm but soft, keeping you close like you were something precious, you believed her.