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never-rxne · 19 days ago

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─── YOU BELIEVE THAT I'M IN PAIN, HELP ME DISASSOCIATE.

18+ minors dni please!

sevika x reader. takes place in canon - 1x07, after the chem-baron assembly. || 2.3k words

content tags: light angst. character study. no established relationship/friends with benefits/queerplatonic dynamic. reader is gender neutral (men this is NOT for you). smut: oral sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, top!reader and receiving!sevika.

summary: after hearing about jinx's stunts, you go to check up on sevika and find her stressed, losing hope in her value to the cause. if words aren't enough to show her her worth, you'll show it through actions.

notes: i DON'T write smut normally, but i was rewatching s1 and the way sevika was treated just pissed me off and made me so sad. have this self indulgent fic as a little pride month/sevika week special... topping sevika would fix me tbh

"i'll be thinking about you while you're down there being a doll it's either a curse or a blessing every time that you call." — King Princess. "Fantastic"

Word goes fast around the Lanes. Faster still when it concerns Silco and his people. His lackeys had leaked the rumor, swept around the fissures until the name Sevika was dropped in your ear. By then, the story had been worn down into a wide-known joke.

You didn’t believe it at first. The situation sounded outlandish. Silco’s right hand found tied up? Defenseless? Painted over with messages? If you knew anything about Sevika, it was her strength. This was the woman who dispatched three armed thugs at the harbor without even being grazed. The very idea of her being double-crossed and subdued enough to be bound was ridiculous.

Had there been multiple attackers? Had she been drugged? Were they after information?

Was she a target?

You don’t want to admit it to yourself, how much it worries you. How the rising tensions between Topside and the Undercity have gotten your thoughts straying to Sevika once too often for your liking.

You decide, at last, that it’s long past time to pay Sevika a visit.

Never mind the fact that you haven’t seen her in months.

The two of you were never the type to cling to each other. Each of you were committed to your own businesses—Sevika on the cause of Zaun’s independence, you on your work for the education of children of the Undercity. Since youth Sevika was the one looking up, you with your eyes on the ground. Your areas of work differed, but your dreams pointed the same way.

Then things had gone sideways when Shimmer began to poison the streets. When Sevika herself started using it. Every rare occasion you met up with her had ended in an argument. Gradually, there came a mutual agreement to stop meeting up at all for a while.

But this…this is different. You need to see her.

Need to make sure she’s okay.

——

She almost didn’t even let you in her apartment room at first.

“Don’t act like such a kid,” you say. “Open the door, Sevika.”

You can hear the metal clinking at the table. You imagine you can almost hear her measured breathing, waiting for you to leave.

But she’s met her match in stubbornness. You rap your knuckles smartly against the door.

“I know you’re in there.”

A heavy sigh. The creak of a chair pushed back. Seconds later, the door swings open, and Sevika frowns down at you in the weak light of the hall. Her prosthetic arm is off, you can see it lying on the table behind her. There are stains of Shimmer on her clothes, on her boots. Her face bears healing traces of a recent fight.

“What do you want?” Sevika says shortly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Missed you, too.”

She huffs. “Not likely.”

But she steps back and lets you in.

——

Now you stand in the dimly lit room, arms crossed and leaning against the table, which is sticky from old spilled drinks. Watching her as she paces the floor restlessly.

You’re certain Sevika hasn’t told you the half of it, but you don’t push it any further.

She won’t tell you the assailant. Won’t tell you if she was outnumbered or drugged. You know if you overstepped, asked one question too many, she’d shut you out entirely. So you listen. You listen to her rant about the unproductive assembly, how Silco had done nothing but intimidate the other Chem-barons, how everything was at a standstill.

“The point isn’t that the sister is back,” Sevika says. “It’s that the enterprise is losing steam. Business slows, everything’ll come crashing down sooner or later. And he isn’t doing anything about it.”

“What does Silco care about the girl anyway?” You ask.

She pauses. Looks back at you. “What do you care?” she says.

Her question catches you so off-guard you can’t even form an answer at first. At last you say, “—what?”

She gestures at you. “Last time we saw each other you said you didn’t care what we did anymore. Said we were all driving down the same path to hell with this Shimmer business.”

It actually takes you a moment to recall what she’s talking about. It was something you said in the heat of the last argument months ago, something you’re certain Sevika gave no definitive answer to at the moment. You’re stunned she’s actually listened. That it cut her deep enough, apparently, for her to throw it back in your face now.

But the truth is, she didn’t remember it right. Or she did, and she’s deliberately rephrasing.

The truth is, you had said you didn’t care what she did.

You were furious at the time. Furious and scared. Scared of what she was doing to herself. Scared that she would run herself to the ground, that she wouldn’t stop working for the cause, giving herself to the cause, her damn fucking cause, until she was used up, nothing left.

You were scared of losing her.

And in the moment, you hated her for making you so scared. Making you care so much when she hardly seemed to think about anything other than the revolution.

You watch her expression, and realize she looks more tired than you remember. Worn down. She hasn’t stopped working since you parted ways. Hasn’t stopped once, even through pitfall after pitfall. Setback after setback.

“I still think the same about Shimmer,” you tell her. “But I also think you don’t need to carry the weight of all of Zaun on your shoulders.”

She scoffs. “Who says I am?” Her eyes stray to the table, to her broken prosthetic arm. “I’m like a cog running in exactly the same place. Fucking useless place.”

“Hey.”

“Why are you here?” she asks with a tired sigh. “Why show up again after all this time?”

“Sevika,” you say.

“You don’t care what I do. Never did. I know you,” she says, beginning to pace again. “You’re like me. Focused on the finished machine, not the tools it took to build it.”

You reach out. Stop her in her movements. Place your hand on her scarred cheek, forcing her to look at you.

“Listen to me, you tall dumbass,” you say in a low voice. “You’re doing enough. You’re doing more than enough.”

She scoffs, tries to brush you away. You reach up so that both your hands cradle her face. Press your thumbs firmly against her cheekbones so she can’t flee from you.

“You hear me?”

“What’re you doing?” she asks gruffly.

“Making you see your worth.”

Her brows crease, eyes narrowing. “You messing with me?”

“Do you see it?”

“Stop fucking around.”

You don’t break the gaze. Even though you can tell she wants you to. Even as she tries to pull away. Your eyes burn into hers until she’s dropping her gaze, until her eyes are dancing down toward your lips, darting back up. Until you feel her falter, until you see her expression—ever so slightly—soften.

You kiss her.

She’s frozen against you at first. You can feel the stillness of her body, the tension in her squared shoulders. A fraction of a second, a quiet hesitation.

Then she kisses you back. The tension drains out of her with a shudder. Something breaks in you as you feel her groan a little into your mouth.

You can tell now this is what she has needed. Not words. Not another argument. Not another person expecting her to be in control. You press your hands against her shoulders, bringing her closer. Guiding her.

“It’s okay,” you whisper against her lips. “I got you, it’s okay.”

“Can we… can you….”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say breathlessly. “Yeah, okay.”

You pull back, leading her down the narrow passageway that leads into the one bedroom. You could find your way around this place in your sleep. From the empty bottles scattered on the floor to the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to the stained wallpaper, this is Sevika. This is the woman you have known, the woman you have forgiven and admired and hated and loved all your life.

In the bedroom. Stumbling over your feet as you kiss her again. You back her against the wall, push your leg between her thighs. She laughs slightly as your fingers clumsily undo the buttons of her vest. You pull it off her, tossing it to the floor. You snake your hands beneath the fabric of her undershirt. She raises her one arm to let you pull it over her head.

Her scars. Thin glowing rivulets of blue webbed over the left side of her face, her neck, her muscular torso. The scars you had known her to avoid looking at, the scars you had known her to hate being touched by anyone but you. The scars you kiss now, softly, feeling the familiar odd electrical current against your lips. Your hand massages her breast as you press your lips to her neck, biting softly at her jawline. With a soft moan, Sevika tilts her head back against the wall.

Lowering yourself to your knees, you undo the clasp of her belt. Her breathing changes as you undress her, as she leans her hand against your shoulder and steps out of her pants, bare before you. Vulnerable.

This is Sevika, every inch of her. From the explosion’s scars to the bruises from old street fights to the stretch marks on her thighs and knees. From the packed muscles of her broad back to the moles dotting her brown skin, you are the only person in the world she has shown herself to this way, with trusting abandon.

A second to breathe. You meet her eyes.

“Okay?” You whisper. She nods.

You pull off your own clothes in half a second. You’re on your knees again, you’re kissing the place just beneath her navel, the muscles of her abdomen seizing, the place that you’d be lying if you said you’ve never stared at before.

Her pussy is familiar, waiting, already wet when your mouth finds her. She can’t suppress the soft grunts of pleasure as your tongue licks against her folds, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes you when her taste hits your senses.

Janna above, you’ve missed her more than you thought.

She parts her legs for you, opening wider for you, and your head reels.

“Fuck. Fuck…just like that…god…”

The hitch in her breath, the break in her deep voice. The moans she suppresses, her pride still battling her for all it’s worth, keeping her from letting herself fall over the edge, holding her back.

Damned if you can’t remedy that.

Your tongue works faster into her. You lick greedily, reverently, as if you’re devouring something both sacred and ruined. Her hand on the back of your head, firm and warm and large, pulling you closer to her, leading you where she needs you. You dig your fingers into the muscles of her thighs, drunk on the taste of her, drunk on the way she trembles against your head, her heavy breaths melting into the stagnant air.

She comes with a dazzling groan, filling your mouth, arching her spine, her head knocking back against the wall.

You pull away, satisfied—for the moment. It’s a testament to her strength that Sevika is still standing, holding herself up, breathing slow through the aftershocks of her climax.

“On your back,” you say.

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

She cuts her gaze at you, and her hazy eyes give her away.

“Tonight’s about you, Vika.”

She huffs at your old nickname for her. Always pretended it irritated her, but then why does it make her sway into you, why does it make her pull you to the bed?

Your hands on her hips, easing her down onto the mattress.

“You’re wrong, by the way,” you murmur against her skin as you slot yourself between her legs, as you part her thighs. “I do care.”

“Hmm?”

Your fingers slide along the folds of her still-sensitive clit, making her twitch. Before you enter her you kiss her mound again, softly, feeling the wiry hairs of her bush against your lips.

“I care about you. Not what you do. Not what you mean to Zaun.”

Sevika says nothing. So you prove it to her.

You part her with two of your fingers, you slide into her, your tongue still making rough little circles against her core. Her hips buck against you. The little desperate sounds that slip out of her mouth invite you deeper, your wrist moving in rhythmic thrusts.

She comes faster the second time. Her pussy spasms against your mouth, and you can feel your own arousal coil hot in the pit of your stomach from seeing her throbbing clit, seeing her beautiful face lost in her pleasure, feeling her pulse race along with yours.

“Can you give me one more, handsome?”

“If you can take it from me,” she growls, and you laugh because her voice has all the conviction of a kitten masquerading as a lion.

——

After.

Sevika is spent, head thrown back. The sweat cooling on your neck. Outside, the streets of Zaun clatter and howl with the sounds of passing automobiles and singing drunks.

“Woman,” you breathe huskily, “you’ll be the death of me.”

Sevika tilts her head on the pillow. The dim glow of the lamp beside the bed casts a warm pink light over her face. Strands of sweaty dark hair that escaped her half-up are streaked against her forehead. She looks sleepily down at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Her lips curl up in a smirk, a low chuckle rumbles in her chest.

She’s so fucking gorgeous. It makes you insane.

“Not too bad yourself,” she says.

You give a sigh, fall forward and let your cheek rest on her warm stomach.

You’ll get cleaned up later. You will stay the night, even if it is just for this one night, and more likely than not you’ll get into another argument with her.

There will be coffee in the morning, though.

There will be time for you to talk.

end note: yeah... dont say anything if this is god-awful because i'm already starting to hate it :/ there's a reason i don't write smut LMAO

#rune's fics #fantastic #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika smut #sevika angst #arcane

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never-rxne · 20 days ago

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─── you believe me like a god, i'll betray you like a man

sevika x stray dog coded reader. character study. || 3.6k words

summary: sevika saves your life. in return, you become her dog. she owns you - and she knows this.

content warnings: heavy angst. canon-typical violence and gore. mild sexual content (read at your discretion). depiction of a codependent, abusive relationship (not romanticized). || song: "I'm Your Man" by Mitski

note: skimmed it for format, and it's interesting to see how my understanding of sevika's character has evolved over time. if i were to rewrite this there are definitely things i would do differently

you're an angel, i'm a dog or you're a dog and i'm your man

Sevika does not quite know why she saved you.

It was a night as dark and filthy as the river water. Like the toxins, the streets were crowded with brutes. Things recoiling from flashes of light in the alleyways. Hungry hands outstretched. Flickering neon lights from building signs reflected off the stone pavements slick with rain.

Sevika storms through the streets, a scowling force. Her height and build are enough to ward off attackers. They don’t approach her: very, very few come close enough to discover what is hidden under the dusty red cloak wrapped around her broad shoulders.

The rain pelting her face takes her back to a night she never wants to think of again. She can almost smell her own burned flesh. See the ruddy glow of the flames. A massive broken body.

She’s not broken anymore. She will show them.

Maybe it was this thought that drove her to follow the sounds coming from an alley across the street. This side of the city is nearly empty by midnight, and the noises of a fight pierce clearly through the relentless whisper of rain.

Flesh hitting flesh. Metal on concrete.

“Piss off, you fuckers! Shit eating street rats!”

Sevika never interfered in petty street scuffles. No one in Zaun did. It simply wasn’t worth it. A fight was an indicator of your right to survive, in a way. If you couldn’t fend for yourself in a hand-to-hand once in a while, you had no business eating off the tables of those who could.

But your voice…this wild, desperate, rage-filled voice…it intrigues her.

Sevika turns her steps toward the alley.

In the darkness, she sees three figures pinning down a struggling fourth. This angers her. She doesn’t care who the attackers are, she doesn’t care who you are—it’s the unfairness of the scuffle that infuriates her. You are clearly a woman, smaller in size than the three men cornering you.

Sevika reaches up and unclasps her cloak from her shoulder. Her mech arm gleams in the dim light of street signs spilling into the alley. She activates the Shimmer capsule. The world turns pink, then red with blood.

You were losing strength, but still kicking. The men had been tailing you through the streets for hours, no matter how many fucking false corners you turned to try to throw them off. They were after money you didn’t have, you couldn’t guess how the hell they had gotten the tip that you had assets, but here you are.

You can’t tell the difference between the blood and rainwater running down your face. Your arms are pinned to your sides as the third man brings the knife to your throat.

Then: a gravelly yell, a flash of rippling hot pink light. The blood sprays against your face, all over your clothes, and the man lies dead on the ground.

The other two thugs whirl around, dropping you. You fall to the ground and press your back to the wall, squinting through the darkness for a glimpse of your savior’s face, but all you see is a massive, statuesque figure.

And that arm of searing pink and metal.

The thugs run at the stranger. She grabs one by the throat with her human hand and flings him against the wall as if he weighed nothing more than a sack of flour. She drives her mechanical arm straight through the body of the other. You see her metal fist come out clutching the dripping mass of his organs. She jerks out the arm, kicks the body aside.

Silence settles. You hear nothing but the roar of your beating heart.

The stranger stands with her back to you, panting hard. She picks up her cloak from the ground and uses it to wipe the gore off her mechanical arm. The bright pink fades.

You part your cracked lips. “Thank…thank you.”

She turns quickly. Evidently, she had completely forgotten you were there.

You can make out a chiseled, harsh face. Dark brows drawn tight, a downturned mouth. And a faint blue glow from the web of scars in her skin, like some inner power glinting through cracks in marble.

She gives you the faintest of nods. Bunching up the cloak in her human hand, she begins to walk away.

You stumble to your feet. The world spins, but your bones are intact. “Wait—” you call.

She stops.

“What’s your name?”

The scarred woman turns her head slightly. “Better off not knowing that,” she says. Her voice is deep and rough. She strides out of the alley.

Without a second’s hesitation, you follow her.

you believe me like a god i'll destroy you like i am

It did not take long for you to become devoted.

At first, Sevika tried to shake you off. She tried threatening you. Cursing you out. The fuck makes you think I’d take in a stray? Does this look like a dog pound to you?

But there you were, every night at her door, whether the weather was clear or it was pouring, thunder rumbling. She found you asleep on the doorstep of her small apartment, she found you in the shadows around her frequent haunts: In the backstreet of The Last Drop. Leaning against the side of the building of Babette’s. You said nothing to her—it was enough that she saw you. You followed her through the streets, never too close, but just close enough to keep her in your sight.

She finally turns around one day, eyes narrowed. You stop in your tracks, just a few paces behind her.

“Get over here,” she says sharply.

You obey. You look up to meet her gaze. She has grey eyes like the blade of a sharpened knife. She pierces right through you. Your savior.

“The hell do you want from me?” she demands. “And will giving it to you finally make you fuck off?”

“I want nothing,” you say simply. “I want to give you something.”

Her scowl deepens. Suspicion darkens her gaze. “What?”

“My life.”

A long pause. She draws back and lets out a short, barking laugh. “It wasn’t anything personal, girl. Now go home.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Not my problem.”

“No,” you agree.

Sevika stares at you for several minutes. Sizing you up. For the first time since you’ve met her, she sees you in the full light of day. You don’t seem as pathetic and helpless as she thought you were that night, crumpled against the wall in the alleyway, beaten up and bleeding. You meet her gaze unflinchingly. There’s something genuine and passionate blazing in your eyes that cuts into her. Something that reminds her of the girl she once was, a girl now buried deep inside her like something dead in the pit of her soul. What is it? What was the look?

Loyalty.

Her dark lips curl into a sneer. “What can you do?” she asks.

“Anything. Everything.”

You’re nothing but a stray. You would be nothing but a mouth to feed, a body to shelter. But a part of Sevika likes the devotion burning in your eyes. The reverence you give her for the simple reason of her violence. She thinks, you have not seen who I’ve once been. You don’t know who I am now. You are so very mistaken, and you’ll pay for it eventually.

Besides, you could prove useful. You look sturdy enough. Quick on your feet, observant, sharp-witted—you had proven that in the weeks of following her around the city, learning her habits from afar.

“I can’t pay you anything. And you’ll have to work for what I can give you. You’ll have to work like a dog.”

“Yes.” After a second’s hesitation, you incline your head to her. “Master.”

i'm sorry i'm the one you love no one will ever love me like you again

You are true to your word.

Stick to it like a blood oath.

You become known to the undercity as “The Brute’s Shadow.” Where Sevika is, you are too: the smaller woman in the background, arms crossed, face impassive: fading into the walls until the second Sevika needs something. In the Last Drop, you have her drink and ashtray on the table before she sits down. She pulls out a cigarette, your lighter is hovering before her lips. She does not give you a single glance—not, at least, in public. When she is ready to leave, she gives a whistle. And you are on her heels in a heartbeat.

She has given you a corner in her apartment to sleep—but never lets you inside her bedroom. She rents two dark rooms, with an after-thought-like kitchenette and small bathroom, and you have never seen where she sleeps. You are up at dawn to wash her clothes and fix her small breakfast of coffee and brown bread. You mend her boots, clean her tools, and when she runs out of cigars you are out—no matter what time of night it is—to get her more.

Yet the more you try to please her, the more you seem to repulse her.

She sends you to fetch her whiskey. You return with the drink, and she snaps that she wanted beer. She tells you not to touch her tools, then demands why they are not sharpened. She mocks you for your devotion, the way you would spend your life groveling on your knees. She is gentle one day. She is brutal the next. She laughs in your face for the way you follow her around like a dog parched for water. She calls you her stray.

You are a mortal kneeling at the feet of a heartless god. Your life is in her hands. Whether she obliterates you, burns your body up into nothing but vapor, it does not matter. You do not care. If she burns you, you will lean into the warmth of her flames.

Because you find home in cruelty. If Sevika had been kind, generous from the beginning, you would have recoiled, frightened. The act alone of saving your life was enough for her to secure your loyalty forever. It doesn’t matter how she treated you.

And Sevika knows this.

Sometimes, she takes you into the brothel with her. Never offers to get you a worker, and you never ask. Usually she makes you stand outside the room to “keep watch” while she has her time with whatever girl she picks, back turned to the closed curtain, listening to the grunts and moans and heavy breaths. But today she tells you to come into the room with her.

The girl glances at you with misgiving. Looks up at Sevika, as if for an explanation.

“She’s not here for you,” Sevika tells her. She sits down on the couch, legs splayed, mechanical arm draped over the back of the chair. “I want the usual.”

Her eyes never leave your face. And you cannot look away.

The girl hesitates, but Sevika’s tone demands obedience. The girl turns her back to you, standing as still as stone by the curtain, and goes down on her knees. Sevika watches you closely as the girl unbuttons her pants. Lazily, her human hand wanders down and her fingers gather in the girl’s lush hair, pulling her closer. Sevika’s heavy-lidded eyes go dark as the girl slots her tongue between her thighs, but her expression betrays almost nothing, as if the pleasure of sex is stripped bare for her, as if this is just another procedure she goes through as methodically as her work for Silco.

As soon as she comes the girl pulls away, but Sevika does not let go of her hair. She has never taken her gaze off you.

With her mech hand she pulls up her pants. She stands, and the girl stands with her. She turns the girl around so that you are face to face with her, so that you can see Sevika’s arousal glistening around her mouth, her beautiful vacant eyes.

“Pretty, isn’t she?” Sevika says.

You say nothing.

Sevika scoffs to herself, as if some inner voice told her a private joke. She counts out the money for the girl and leaves it on the table.

You know she wanted you to see her superiority. You know she brought you in there to show you the pleasure she can afford, the status she holds, a position you will never reach, never rise to. You know she brought you in there so she could remind you of your place—beneath her, always at her feet.

But you saw the haze of her darkened eyes. The suppressed pleasure and agony and bitter loneliness. Sevika thinks she can hide from you. She thinks eventually you will be disgusted by her, pushed beyond the breaking point. You only want her more.

so when you leave me, i should die i deserve it, don't i?

Gradually she allows you to come closer. She lets you into her bed. She finds herself desiring you, to the point of blind passion. There is something about the worshipful way you gaze up at her as she hovers over you. Something about the helplessness of your body, limp and sweaty beneath hers. It lets her believe, even for a second, that she is not hideous.

But how is that possible?

She looks at you sometimes and wants to crush you like the fragile body of a bird. Her hand covers half your face, her thighs cradle you like boulders. She could break you between her thumb and index finger. She wants to destroy you the same way the explosion destroyed her. She wants to ravage you, she wants to ruin your beauty, the steady symmetry of your body.

She looks at your arms, the scars lining your skin from numerous past street scuffles. And she is filled with a rage and envy so potent it brings the tears to her eyes. Why do you—so inferior, so helpless, useless, a stray from the streets—why do you have the blessing of two arms, a complete figure? Why do you have the privilege of beauty and strength? Your unblemished skin, your unmutilated body. You have the inner strength and rage, the will to survive. You could go anywhere and do anything.

Why do you stay?

Why do you stay for her?

Pity, Sevika thinks. It is nothing but pity. All this time she thought she had the upper hand. All this time you must have been laughing at her in your mind.

It is a simmering summer night. You watch from the bed as Sevika pulls on her shirt. Her mechanical arm is off. Before she clothes herself, you can see the muscles rippling in her back, the jagged blue scars lining the left side of her torso. Her beauty makes you breathless, and the stagnant air feels tight around you. She looks into the cracked mirror and sees you watching her in the reflection.

“Enjoying the view?” she says roughly.

Your tongue fills your mouth.

“Come here.”

You climb out of bed and walk over to her side. She grabs you by the arm and pulls you next to her, forcing you to stand next to her and look into the mirror.

“Do you think you’re better than me?” She says in a low voice. “Little street brat? What kind of savior game are you trying to play?”

You have no idea what she is talking about, but you make no sound.

“I saved your life,” Sevika hisses. “I picked you up off the filthy streets. I fed you and gave you a place to sleep.”

When you still give no answer, she pushes you away from her. Then in a movement so sudden you don’t even have time to process it, she hits you hard across the face with her right hand. The force knocks you off your feet and throws you against the side of the bed, bruising your ribs.

She walks slowly over to you. Sweat streaks her dark hair over her forehead. She reaches down and grabs you by the face, forcing you to look up at her. Something dark and dangerous teems in her grey eyes, a rage you know is not even directed at you.

Sevika is sick with self-loathing. When she sees the blood running down your lips, the bruise forming on your face, she wants to destroy herself. She wants to fall to her knees and weep. She wants to tell you to run from her, quickly, before it’s too late.

“Who do you belong to?” Sevika asks, her voice low.

You cough, and see flecks of red in the air between you and her. “You.”

“You, what?”

“You, master.”

She drops your face. You slump to the floor. Sevika turns away. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

one day you'll figure me out i'll meet judgment by the hounds

Sevika wonders why you don’t leave.

You don’t leave because you see her weakness. No matter how she tries to conceal it from you, you have seen her worst sides, her uncertainties. The way she comes home exhausted and reeking of blood, the way she stumbles into the bathroom and vomits Shimmer after a grueling fight. The way she tells you things when she is drunk enough not to know who she is talking to—or care.

She’s leaning against the wall one night, too tired to even pull herself into bed. There’s whiskey on her breath. She watches you through half closed eyes as you stitch up a deep gash in her leg: some fucker had caught her calf with a blade in a fight in front of the Shimmer warehouse. Since you have come to live with her you’ve become skilled in tending to wounds.

“If you…” her voice trails off, then returns. “If you’re ready to go, I can pay you your due.”

You don’t look up from your hands on her leg. “I’m not leaving you.”

Sevika frowns as your words make their way through the thick fog of her mind. She looks at you more intently, ready to argue. Then her head falls back against the wall again.

“Right,” she mutters, more to herself than to you. “You can’t leave.”

She gives a low, joyless laugh. “Where would you go? Huh, stray?”

Finally, you look at her. She tilts her head at you. Pain fills her gaze.

“You’re stuck here. Just like me.”

people always gave me love others were never to blame after all

On an overcast morning, you follow Sevika on a trip to one of the Shimmer supply houses. Silco had heard of some trouble brewing around the area there and wanted Sevika to station more cyborgs on the premises. The streets are quiet and smoke drifts from chimneys, disappearing into the cloudy sky. Sevika had been in a lighter mood that morning. Even whistled as she fastened on her mech arm. As she strode down the street with you, she pointed out landmarks and storefronts, telling you all the scraps of history she knew to pass the time.

Turf wars were quieting down since Piltover closed the gates against Zaun and stationed enforcers at the border. The insult to the lower city resulted in a newfound solidarity among the Zaunites, uniting them against Topside. Because of the decrease in street fights, it has been weeks since Sevika used Shimmer, and the effects of it showed. Her appetite returned. Her moods were calmer, less volatile.

She has never treated you better than this time, and you have never loved her more.

At the warehouse, you stand close by Sevika as she directs the cyborgs’ stations around the building. You survey the rows and rows of Shimmer vaults, the massive glass containers bubbling with the raw substance. Until they are diluted, you know they are extremely reactive.

You don’t know who ignites the blast.

The screams of alarm, the sudden rush of heat, the echo of shattering glass—they fade into nothing as your vision registers the wave of the explosion hurtling towards you and Sevika. Your body reacts before your mind. You hurl yourself against her, pushing her out of the way.

A searing pain like you’ve never known before cuts through your senses, and then the world goes dark.

When Sevika comes to, she is aware of a loud ringing in her ears. Her mechanical arm is mangled beneath her, leaking oil, wires sticking out. With a grunt of effort she raises herself up on her human arm and tries to squint through the pink haze of dust. The world is shattered glass and splintered wood.

Her gaze falls on an arm outstretched nearby, but she can’t see the rest of you. Everything rushes back to her. She scrambles across the floor, half dragging herself, and throws aside the debris covering your body. Your face is streaked with soot and blood. Your body is twisted into itself. Your chest is barely moving.

Sevika cradles your broken body in her arm. She looks into your senseless face. She feels a deep chasm open up in her chest. Through cracked lips she whispers, “Hey. Hey, stray.”

I’ve lost her.

Your hand stirs. Briefly, you reach up and touch the bend of her elbow. Then your hand falls to your side. It was all the hope she needed.

She has owned you all this time, but only now she looks down at you and feels that you are someone that was hers to lose.

you believe me like a god i'll betray you like i am.

end note: 🥲

#rune's fics #you believe me like a god #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika x you #sevika angst #arcane

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