Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

You got kidnapped

• Sevika would come home to find the space too quiet, immediately sensing something was wrong. Her gut would twist as she notices small signs—your coat left behind, the door slightly ajar.

• When calling out your name gets no response, her jaw would tighten, a cold dread creeping over her. Her hand would instinctively flex, her mechanical arm humming faintly as her mind raced.

• She’d scour the room for any clue, her sharp eyes catching the overturned chair or something out of place. "This wasn’t an accident. Someone took her."

• Her anger would bubble just beneath the surface, but she’d force herself to stay focused, knowing she couldn’t lose control. "I can’t help her if I lose my head."

• The realization of your absence would hit her hard, a rare moment of vulnerability flickering in her expression before it’s buried under cold determination. "They have no idea who they’ve crossed."

• Without wasting time, she’d head straight to Silco, her heavy boots echoing with purpose. Every step fueled by equal parts fury and desperation.

• Bursting into Silco’s office, she wouldn’t bother with pleasantries, slamming the door behind her and cutting straight to the point. “Someone’s taken her. I need everything you’ve got.”

• Her tone would be sharp, but there’d be a subtle crack in her voice—a hint of how deeply this shook her. She wouldn’t care about appearing vulnerable if it meant getting you back.

• Silco’s calculating gaze would meet hers, and despite his usual cold and rough demeanor, even he wouldn’t brush off Sevika’s request. The intensity in her eyes would leave no room for argument.

• As Silco calmly offers resources or intelligence, Sevika would pace like a caged animal, her fists clenching and unclenching as she fights the urge to act immediately. "Every second wasted is a second too long."

• When Silco gives her leads, she’d nod curtly, her focus razor-sharp. “I owe you one.” It’s rare for her to admit that, but nothing matters except finding you.

• She wouldn’t hesitate to call in favors, her usual stoicism replaced with an almost feral determination. "They took her. That’s their last mistake."

• Alone, as she prepares for the search, her composure would crack for a moment. Her hand would grip the edge of a table, her head bowing as a low growl escapes her. "If they’ve hurt her..."