Sevika X Fem!reader - Blog Posts

oh my god this is so perfectly comforting but slightly unsettling ughhhfjjrrj i love my women a little off putting :3

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂 ⚝ 𝚆𝙸𝙵𝙴!𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙺𝙰 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼!𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁

warnings: some of these are a bit unsettling and darker than arcane’s usual tone. if that’s not your thing, scroll. no need to tell me sevika is a pookie wookie she wouldn’t hurt a fly—i promise i do not care.

⚝| sevika has an uncanny patience when dressing you. sliding silk over your shoulders, fastening buttons, smoothing down fabric. but when she undresses you, it’s different. she never rips, never rushes, but the way she peels each layer off feels clinical, like she’s dissecting something precious.

⚝| sevika never corrects you when you’re wrong. but when someone else does, she just looks at them, quiet and unreadable, until they shift uncomfortably and drop the subject. later, in private, she murmurs the right answer against your skin like a prayer.

⚝| she never raises her voice at you, ever. but her silence cuts deeper than any shouted argument. when she’s upset, she just watches you, eyes heavy lidded and still, until your nerves unravel and you start apologizing before you even know what for.

⚝| sevika has a ritualistic way of loving you…every night, she brushes your hair in long, slow strokes, unraveling every tangle with near-reverence. it’s soothing, but you don’t realize it’s a form of control until you miss a night and she grips your wrist, jaw tightening, voice low “sit down. i’m not asking.”

⚝| sevika feeds you with her fingers, not utensils. no matter how messy, no matter how impractical. she never lets you take the food from her hands, only lets you open your mouth and accept. sometimes she waits too long, lets the food linger between her fingers, watching your lips part in hesitation before she finally presses it to your tongue.

⚝| sevika doesn’t like locked doors, not yours, not hers. you don’t even have a lock on your bedroom anymore; she removed it one day while you were out. didn’t say anything about it, didn’t acknowledge it. but when you ask, she just raises a brow. “what do you need a lock for?” and there’s something in her voice that makes you feel ridiculous for asking.

⚝| sevika keeps your old nightgowns, the ones that have worn too thin, the ones that smell too much like you. she never tells you why. you only find them later, folded neatly in the back of a drawer you don’t open often, tucked away like something sacred.

⚝| sevika is obsessed with your warmth.. but only when you’re sleeping. when you’re awake, she touches you gently, reverently. but when you sleep, when you can’t see her, she holds you differently. arms locked, face buried against your skin, inhaling deeply like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she lets go. some nights, you wake up gasping, feeling like you were being suffocated, but she’s just there, still, unmoving, barely breathing.

⚝| sevika remembers everything you say in passing. weeks later, she hands you something you forgot you even mentioned wanting. she repeats things back to you, word for word, like a recording. sometimes, she tells you things you don’t remember saying at all. and she never lies. you know she never lies. so you believe her.

⚝| sevika has a way of making you feel small without making you feel weak. it’s in the way she stands close, in the way she speaks low, in the way her hands find your waist so easily. she makes you feel delicate, precious, something to be handled carefully. and you like it. you like it so much it scares you.

⚝| sevika hates hearing you apologize. it doesn’t matter what it’s for. every time the word slips past your lips, her jaw tightens, her fingers flex like she’s holding herself back from something. “don’t,” she says, firm, steady. but the next time, you still say it. and the next time, she doesn’t say anything at all, just looks at you for a long, long time before shaking her head.

⚝| sevika kisses you like she’s taking something. it’s never harsh, never forceful. just deep, lingering, like she’s breathing you in, keeping something for herself. and when she pulls away, you always feel a little.. lighter. like something small has been plucked from you, but you can’t tell what.

⚝| sevika doesn’t like when you smell different. if you use a new soap, a new perfume, she notices immediately. her fingers trail over your pulse, slow, deliberate. “this isn’t yours,” she murmurs, barely above a whisper. there’s no accusation in her voice, but something about it makes you feel guilty.

⚝| sevika picks out all your clothes.. not just your nightgowns, but everything. you never really noticed when it started. now, when you try to choose something yourself, you hesitate. your hands hover over the fabric, uncertain, like you’re waiting for her approval even when she isn’t there.

⚝| sevika wears glasses when she reads.. a rare sight, one you can never resist. the moment they rest on the bridge of her nose, you’re on her lap, draping yourself over her like a silken shawl. you press kisses along her cheekbone, her jaw, whispering saccharine nothings against her skin, drunk on the contrast of her sharpness and your softness. she exhales like she’s indulging you, like she’s letting you win.. but she never takes the glasses off. she keeps reading, one hand turning the page, the other resting heavy on your thigh.