Arcane headcanons | °• Sevika •°

She found you abandoned

(KID READER!!)

• The bridge is eerily silent, smoke curling through the air as the aftermath of the war settles like a heavy fog. Sevika steps through the rubble, her boots crushing ash and glass, the metallic hiss of her arm faint in the quiet.

• Bodies lie strewn across the bridge, lifeless remnants of the chaos. Piltover’s clean uniforms mixed with Zaun’s desperate rebellion. Sevika doesn’t look too closely—she’s seen too much death to flinch now.

• She hears it before she sees it: a soft, ragged breathing. A whimper.

• Sevika’s sharp gaze snaps to the side, where a small, broken figure is crouched beside two lifeless bodies. A child. Blood stains her hands as she clings to one of them—a man, perhaps her father.

• Sevika pauses, her expression hardening as she surveys the scene. “Shit…” The kid’s alive, barely, but everything around her is death.

• The girl looks up, startled, eyes wide and filled with tears. Her cheeks are streaked with grime and blood. There’s nothing in them but terror.

• “Hey,” Sevika mutters, voice low but surprisingly gentle. “What’re you doing here, kid?”

• The girl doesn’t answer, just curls further into herself. She’s hurt—her leg’s bleeding, her lip split. Too small to fight, too young to understand what’s happened.

• Sevika grits her teeth and glances around. No one else is coming. Piltover doesn’t care, Zaun’s survivors have retreated. She sighs, exasperated. “Damn it.”

• She crouches low, metal arm creaking as she reaches toward the girl. “You’re not gonna make it here, kid. Come on.”

• The girl flinches at the movement, pressing her face into her mother’s cold shoulder. Sevika freezes for a moment, her expression softening as she exhales slowly.

• “They’re gone,” she says quietly. “You don’t need to stay here anymore.”

• It takes a few minutes of silence before Sevika hears a tiny, broken voice whisper. “Where… where are they going?”

• Sevika doesn’t have answers for that. She never does. Instead, she just reaches out again—slower this time—and places her hand gently on the girl’s small shoulder.

• “You’re coming with me, kid.”

• The girl hesitates but doesn’t resist as Sevika carefully picks her up, cradling her like she’s made of glass. Sevika’s metal arm supports her weight with ease, but she’s careful—so damn careful—like she’s afraid of breaking what little is left of her.

• Sevika carries her off the bridge, through the wreckage of Zaun, ignoring the looks she gets. A battle-hardened enforcer with a tiny, broken kid in her arms.

• The girl clings to her shirt, her tiny hands curling into the fabric. She’s silent now, but Sevika can feel her trembling against her chest.

• “You’re tougher than you look,” Sevika mutters after a while, her voice gruff but soft. “I’ll give you that.”

• When they finally reach somewhere safe—a quiet back room in the Last Drop—Sevika sets her down carefully on a cot. The girl doesn’t let go of her hand, her small fingers clutching Sevika’s calloused palm tightly.

• Sevika doesn’t pull away. Instead, she sits beside the cot, leaning back in the chair with a tired sigh.

• “Rest.” Sevika murmurs, glancing at her. “You’re safe now.”

• The girl looks up at her, eyes heavy with exhaustion, and whispers, “Are you gonna leave me?”

• Sevika’s heart twinges, but she scowls to hide it. “I ain’t going anywhere. Get some sleep.”

• Hours pass, the girl eventually drifting into an uneasy sleep. Sevika stays put, her large frame slumped in the chair, watching over her like an immovable shield.

• When the girl wakes in the middle of the night, crying out from a nightmare, Sevika is there instantly. She sits on the edge of the cot, letting the kid cling to her metal arm.

• “You’re okay,” Sevika mutters, her voice low and steady. “No one’s gonna hurt you. I’ve got you.”

• The girl sniffles into her shoulder, the tears soaking into Sevika’s shirt. Sevika doesn’t pull away, just lets her stay there, rubbing her back awkwardly but carefully.

• “Tough kid,” Sevika mutters again, mostly to herself. She sighs and leans back against the wall, the girl still tucked against her side. “Guess I’ll look out for you now. You’re my problem, after all.”

• The girl doesn’t understand the weight of Sevika’s words, but she clings tighter anyway.

• Sevika smirks faintly, brushing a strand of hair from the kid’s face. “Yeah… you’re mine now, kiddo. We’ll figure this out.”

• And for the first time in a long time, Sevika feels something unfamiliar—a quiet resolve that softens the edges of her hardened soul.