Sevika X Reader - Blog Posts

CAN SOMEONE WRITE PUNKROCK SEVIKA SMUT PLEASE AND THANK YOU! TAG ME IN IT PLEASE

Based on this art ⬇️

fanfic is crazy af, so you’re telling me Sevika’s really a character from Arcane and not some hot cowboy who falls for me? like, I’m just a city girl running away to the country for who-knows-what, and suddenly we’re rivals, there’s all this tension, and then we end up loving (and loving on) each other till sunrise.

Silvia

word count: 1.3k

Last Sunday was Mother’s Day in my country, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your first Mother’s Day as Sevika’s wife. The smell of coffee and freshly baked bread wakes you before your daughter’s cries do, which is unusual. The little one has had a set routine since she was born: she wakes up early for you to feed her, then goes back to sleep until she’s hungry again. You blink slowly, your body heavy with the accumulated exhaustion of interrupted nights, and reach out to the side of the bed where Sevika sleeps, only to find her gone, which makes you frown, though the aroma in the air tells you exactly where she is.

When you finally sit up in bed, you see her coming into the room with a tray in her hands. This time, her expression isn’t tough at all; it’s a strange mix of pride and shyness. Her steps are heavy but careful, her breathing deep and controlled, trying to be as quiet as possible so she doesn’t wake you. She’s so focused on not making a sound that she doesn’t notice your eyes are already open, watching her with a sweet smile.

“Good morning, beautiful,” she says when she finally looks up, her voice low and husky, as if she’s afraid to break the moment. “Happy first Mother’s Day.”

On the tray: golden toast, perfectly scrambled eggs, hot coffee, and a small plate of fruit. Next to it, a little black velvet box.

“Sevika…” you whisper, with a smile you didn’t even know you could make so early in the morning.

She sets the tray on your lap, sits at the edge of the bed, and opens the little box for you. Inside, there’s a silver necklace. On the pendant, a tiny inscription:

“The best of me, I share with you.”

You open the locket and see a tiny photo: you, Sevika, and Silvie, your daughter, on the couch. It was taken a few months ago, days after you were discharged from the hospital after giving birth. In the photo, the baby is resting in Sevika’s arms. She’s looking at the camera with a shy smile, as if she’s learning how to smile again after so long and, in a way, she is.

“I love you,” is all you can manage in that moment, you don’t know how to say more with so few words. “Happy first Mother’s Day to you too, love. Watching you be a mother is one of the greatest privileges of my life.”

Sevika, uncomfortable with so much affection all at once, clears her throat and leans in to kiss your forehead. Her hands reach for your face, holding it gently, caressing your cheeks as her lips travel slowly over your forehead, nose, chin, and finally end with a soft kiss on your lips. She doesn’t respond to your congratulations. Ever since you decided to have Silvie, Sevika has insisted that you’re the mother, after all, you carried her for nine months, you breastfeed her, and so on. You keep disagreeing, the girl has Sevika’s face, her gray eyes, thick black hair, and even though she’s only five months old, she already makes the same grumpy face as your wife. As she pulls away, Sevika hands you the coffee, as if that balances out the emotion of the moment.

“I have to go,” she murmurs, stroking your hair, trying to comb it gently with her fingers. “Get some rest, okay? I already fed the little one, so she won’t wake up for a while.”

Before you can answer, she keeps talking: “I know your mom is coming for lunch this afternoon, so relax. Breakfast is already done, and I doubt my lovely mother-in-law will let you cook. We both know she still thinks you’re too weak from giving birth, even though Silvie’s teeth are already starting to come in.”

You smile at her words and can’t help but sigh as you watch her leave for work, not without first giving the baby sleeping in the crib beside your bed a gentle kiss on the head. In the afternoon, the house is filled with Silvie’s laughter as she plays on your mother’s lap. Silvie babbles sweetly, responding to whatever her grandmother says as if she truly understands. You, on the other hand, are sitting in front of them, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers without even realizing it.

“Is something wrong, honey?” your mother asks, her eyes on you, and you recognize that look that cuts through silences.

You look up, your eyes shining.

“It’s Mother’s Day and I…” you pause. “I feel like I’m celebrating it alone.”

“Alone? But Silvie is with you, and Sevika too, right?”

“Yes, but Sevika doesn’t consider herself a mom,” you reply, lowering your gaze. “She says that since she didn’t carry her, since she didn’t give birth it’s not the same. That she just supported me. But… I see her with Silvie, she takes care of her, sings to her, changes her diaper and still, she doesn’t feel like she’s part of this.”

Your mother stays silent for a few seconds. Then she leans in and strokes your hand. “Do you know what your grandmother used to do when I didn’t feel like I fit in as a mother? She reminded me that being a mother isn’t just about giving birth. It’s about staying when things are hard, about loving unconditionally. Maybe your wife just needs someone to tell her that. For you to tell her.”

You purse your lips, thoughtful. “And what if she doesn’t believe me?”

“Then don’t just tell her. Make her feel it. Write her a letter, or give her something that carries the weight of what she means to you and to her daughter. Sometimes, what doesn’t go in through the ears goes straight to the heart.”

When Sevika comes home that night, she’s tired, her mechanical arm moving slower than usual. But when she walks in and sees the table decorated with flowers, a homemade dinner, and you holding Silvie in your arms, the tension in her shoulders melts away. After your conversation with your mother, you decided to do everything you could to make your wife understand how important she is to you and to your little girl. After making dinner, you dressed Silvie in a blue dress and did her hair in two little pigtails, which took forever, since she doesn’t like having her hair done. When you finished with her, you found a sundress in your closet that matched your daughter’s, putting in the effort to look nice for your wife.

“What’s all this?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“My Mother’s Day gift for you,” you reply, showing her a sheet of paper folded in thirds: a handwritten letter from you, with a tiny handprint from Silvie at the end. Sevika takes it, but doesn’t pay much attention for now. Her eyes are fixed on you, on your nervous smile, unsure how she’ll react to the surprise, on the way the dress highlights every part of your body she knows by heart. Without saying a word, she comes closer, her hands finding your hips and caressing them with a mix of tenderness and possessiveness, squeezing them lightly as she speaks:

“You look beautiful, love. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

You smile and lean in for a quick kiss on the lips. As you try to pull away, Sevika pulls you back and traps you in a more passionate kiss, her lips moving against yours with such need that you forget everything around you, until Silvie, seeing her moms sharing all the love between them, complains, whining and reaching out for Sevika to pick her up.

“Mama,” she demands, opening and closing her hands to get her other mom’s attention.

Sevika smiles and takes her from your arms, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Hey, princess, did you miss me?”

Silvie just smiles, her little hands reaching for Sevika’s face, touching her scar as if it’s a special game just for her. You let her catch up with her baby, but impatience eats at you.

“Open the letter,” you insist with a smile, unable to hold back any longer.

Sevika chuckles, finding your restlessness amusing. Then, with Silvie in her arms, she opens the letter, trying not to crumple it. She reads it in silence, says nothing for long seconds, but you see a small tear escape, betraying her. She wipes it away quickly. Then she lowers the letter and looks at you, her eyes shining, jaw tight as if holding herself together is her way of loving.

“Love,” she starts, but her voice breaks. She sighs, searching for a way to organize her feelings. “Are you too tired? I want to introduce you to someone very important to me. Let’s go see her, come with me.” Her words come out in a rush, almost unintelligible. You blink several times, trying to process what she just said.

“Go where?”

“To see her. My mother.”

Zaun’s cemetery rests hidden among smoking factories and poisoned canals. There are no flowers or prayers, just scraps of metal marking anonymous graves. It’s a chilling place, where the dead don’t rest, they simply stop getting in the way. But none of that bothers you, you’re focused on what’s happening right now: it’s the first time Sevika has ever spoken to you about her mother. The grave is simple, marked by a plaque worn down by time.

Sevika kneels. You stay close. Silvie rests in Sevika’s arms, and the baby seems to understand her mother’s pain, her sadness, because since Sevika picked her up at home, she hasn’t wanted to let go, lying on her shoulder, sucking her pacifier, eyes wide open, staring at the grave.

“She… was strong. Much stronger than me,” the words come out broken. “Mama.” Her voice cracks. Looking at her, you don’t see Sevika, the woman everyone fears, you see a little girl, defenseless, alone. “I never said goodbye. But if you can see me now, I know you’d understand why I’m fighting.”

She pauses for a long time, stroking the edge of the grave with her metal fingers, as if afraid to break it.

“This is my wife, Mom. She’s my family now,” she continues, pointing at you. “And this,” she adds, looking at Silvie, “is the beginning of something better.” Sevika smiles sadly. “She has your name, Mom—Silvia. But we call her Silvie, because she’s so little.”

You kneel beside her., taking her hand. You feel her tremble.

“Thank you for bringing me,” you whisper.

“Thank you for making me a mom,” Sevika replies, without looking at you. But she squeezes your hand as if she’ll never let go.

That night, under Zaun’s polluted sky, Sevika cries. You hold her. And Silvie, after spending the whole day with her mothers and grandmothers, sleeps. In that scarred corner of the world, something new is born. Something strong.

Something Sevika only knows from women like her mother. Like you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Don't cry, my love...

Sevika wasn’t the kind of person who showed many emotions. Since the moment you met her, her toughness had always been part of her charm—her firm, almost intimidating presence. But ever since the two of you started building a family, everything had changed, even if she tried to hide it at times.

It was a quiet afternoon at home. The soft light of sunset filtered through the curtains, bathing the living room in golden hues. The sound of your wife’s gentle laughter and the soft tapping of tiny feet filled the air. Your baby girl, Silvie, was only eight months old, but she was already beginning to show her personality, and like any baby at that stage, she was exploring her world.

Sevika was sitting on the couch, watching her daughter with a mix of tenderness and focus. She was used to the strength her job demanded, to the harshness of her daily routine, but that little smile—those bright, curious eyes of Silvie—had the power to make her melt like a piece of chocolate in the sun.

You, her wife, were in the kitchen, finishing up a snack for the family. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air, but what truly caught your attention was the cheerful laughter of your baby and the soft words Sevika whispered as they played together on the couch. “Silvie, where’s your favorite toy?” Sevika said, lifting a small rattle with a smile. Silvie, with her big curious eyes, reached out for the toy, but something on the floor caught her attention instead—a small piece of metal, a screw that had fallen from somewhere and now dangerously lay within her reach.

It wasn’t the first time the little one grabbed something she shouldn’t have, and although Sevika was always vigilant, there was no way to prevent her daughter from getting curious about the wrong things from time to time. With swift movements, Sevika took the piece from the baby’s hands. “No, no, no, princess!” she said, her voice soft but firm, as she moved the screw out of reach. “That’s not for you, sweetheart.” Silvie, surprised by the sudden change, began to let out a soft cry, almost as if she didn’t understand what had just happened. But as soon as she realized something important had been taken away, her crying intensified, turning into an inconsolable wail.

Seeing the shift in her daughter’s expression, Sevika couldn’t help but blush, even though she tried to keep her composure. “Oh no, don’t cry, my love.” Her voice softened instantly. “It’s just because it’s dangerous, right?” She looked at her tenderly, trying to soothe her, but the baby kept crying, staring at the screw just out of reach.

“You’re going to make mama cry, huh?” she said with a soft laugh. Sevika blushed even more as she saw the child crying louder, tears running down her cheeks. From the kitchen, you heard the little sob and quickly approached, setting the cookies aside. Seeing the scene, your expression softened, and a tender smile appeared on your face. “What’s going on here?” you asked gently, coming closer to take Silvie into your arms.

Sevika, who had been trying to comfort her daughter, turned toward you with a mixture of desperation and love. “I’ll let you take her—she’s being a bit stubborn,” she said, passing the crying infant into your arms. “Shhh, it’s okay, my love,” you whispered, trying to soothe her.

But the baby didn’t want to calm down. She kept looking at Sevika with those big teary eyes. The woman who was once a pillar of strength now seemed helpless, her expression showing just how much it hurt to see her daughter so upset.

Sevika slowly walked toward you, still holding the metal piece in her hand, and leaned in to gently caress the baby’s cheek. But Silvie, still inconsolable, continued to cry. You watched them both, seeing how Sevika was trying to calm her despite not quite knowing how to handle these moments. The baby lifted her head from your shoulder, looked directly at her mother, and then, in a sudden wave of emotion, did something neither of you expected:

She pouted.

It was subtle at first, like she didn’t quite understand the importance of what she was doing, but when the corners of her mouth curved downward, Sevika froze. The baby’s eyes, full of pure innocence, looked at her as if asking for an explanation. In that moment, with that tiny pout, Sevika felt something she had never experienced before—a feeling of absolute vulnerability. The strength she had always carried seemed to dissolve in an instant. She looked at the baby, then at you, and everything inside her melted, as if the force of that small gesture could tear down any wall she had ever built.

“See? Look what you did,” you whispered with a tender smile, tinged with playful teasing. Sevika didn’t know how to react.

“What? I didn’t do anything…” she frowned, but without conviction. It was clear that, in that moment, she felt defeated by a simple pout.

The baby, seeing that Sevika wasn’t reacting as she hoped, began to cry again. Not loud crying, but soft, heartbreaking sobs. Sevika couldn’t hold back anymore, and with a sigh, she stepped closer to you, arms open for her daughter.

“Come on, baby,” she said, her voice rough but full of affection, “come to mama.” The baby, hearing the soft tone of her mother’s voice, stopped crying almost instantly, though the pout still lingered on her little face. Sevika held her in her arms, feeling her daughter cling to her as if nothing else in the world mattered.

In the distance, the living room clock marked the passing minutes, but for you, Sevika, and Silvie, those moments felt eternal—filled with tenderness, laughter, and a vast, immeasurable love. The baby had discovered, in the most innocent way, the power she held over both of you—the power of a simple pout that could bring even the strongest to their knees.

“You know what, love?” you said with a smile, looking at the baby in her arms. “I think our daughter just learned how to completely melt us.”

Sevika smiled, gently rocking the baby in her strong arms. Silvie was her exact replica—dark skin, thick black hair, gray eyes that could melt anyone’s heart, especially yours. Her face mirrored Sevika’s, but that innocent, pleading pout she’d now use to get what she wanted reminded Sevika of you. It made her smile sweetly, an unusual expression for her—but one Silvie had managed to draw out countless times since the day she was born. This was her daughter, a reflection of both of you and of the love you shared. The sum of so many good and bad moments, of sleepless nights and days when hope was the only thing you two had left. Silvie and you were her home, and Sevika would do anything to protect you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

I’ll always be here...

The soft light from the apartment filtered through the curtains, creating a gentle, almost cozy atmosphere, as if the outside world had been left beyond its reach. The rain fell softly over the city, but in the small refuge where you lived with Sevika, only the sound of the water and the occasional tapping of a raindrop against the window accompanied the silence that had settled over the place.

Sevika sat at the edge of the bed, her face reflecting fatigue and frustration. The new mechanic arm, replacing the one she had lost, was still wrapped in bandages—a mix of cables and metal that didn’t quite feel like her own. The smell of antiseptic filled the air, but Sevika didn’t notice. She could only think about what had just happened.

You had finished your shift at "The Last Drop," and although the place was still bustling with activity, all you wanted now was to be with her. As you entered the apartment, you felt the weight of what had happened heavier than it appeared at first glance.

You approached her quietly and knelt in front of Sevika. Your eyes met, and for a moment, words weren’t needed. You gently stroked her face, noticing the tension in her jaw. Sevika pulled away slightly, as if the simple gesture of affection made her feel vulnerable. "How are you feeling?" you asked, your voice soft but full of concern.

She sighed, looking at her prosthetic arm, her expression full of irritation and rejection. "I can’t stand it... It’s not the same. I don’t know how to do things with this. Everything feels... clumsy." Sevika's usually harsh tone sounded more broken than usual.

You sat beside her, drawing closer, wrapping an arm around her waist in a gesture of comfort. "You don’t have to do it all alone, Sevika. I’m here." You whispered, your hand slowly tracing her back, trying to calm her.

Sevika closed her eyes, feeling a wave of emotion she couldn’t contain. It was hard for her—not just losing something so vital, but also depending on someone. Her image of strength had always been built on her independence. Now, she was at a point where even the simplest tasks, like showering or getting dressed, felt like challenges.

"I don’t want you to see me like this... I need to be strong, like always..." her voice cracked, a slight tremor betraying her. You looked at her with compassion, gently touching her cheek.

"You are strong, love. You don’t have to prove it all the time. And there’s no shame in accepting help." you smiled sweetly, though your eyes shone with the sincerity of your love.

Sevika sighed, something in her chest loosening as she heard those words. The warmth of your embrace enveloped her, and for the first time since the accident, she allowed herself to relax. You helped her get up, guiding her toward the bathroom.

The process of showering became a different experience. You helped her balance, using the new prosthetic, while Sevika tried not to lose her patience. It was difficult—it felt like she was starting over, as if everything she knew about herself was changing. But with your presence nearby, things seemed a little more bearable.

When you were done, you gently dried her hair, noticing the small imperfections and scars Sevika tried to hide. Then, you helped her put on clothes, carefully adjusting her shirt to avoid hurting her.

"It’s not so hard, see?" you said, winking at her as you gently stroked the arm that was still not used to moving with ease. Sevika looked at you with a faint smile, her gaze filled with gratitude. Although she felt vulnerable, the closeness of your presence gave her a sense of peace she hadn’t experienced before.

Finally, when you both sat on the couch, Sevika rested her head in your lap. The rain continued to fall, but in that moment, everything seemed calmer. You ran your fingers through her hair, every movement full of affection, while Sevika, for the first time in a long while, allowed someone to take care of her.

"Thank you..." Sevika murmured, her voice softer than you had ever heard it.

You smiled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "You don’t have to thank me, love. I’ll always be here."

Sevika lifted her gaze, searching your eyes, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. With a sideways smile and a gaze full of mischief, Sevika hugged you tightly, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

"I love you.... And I promise I won’t waste your time with this new version of me." she whispered, with a touch of challenge but also with the softness of vulnerability that only you could see.

Smiling, you caressed her face, sliding your hand to her neck with a gentle pressure. "All I want, Sevika, is for you to be okay. And it doesn’t matter what version of you that is. I’m with you, always."

The kiss continued, deeper this time, full of promises, affection, and a love that transcended any obstacle, even the most physical. While the storm outside the apartment raged on, within those walls, Sevika and you found a calm and comfort that could only be found in each other’s embrace.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

saw this the other day on Pinterest and...

guess who it reminded me of😜

NEED SOMEONE TO DRAW AMBESSA IN THIS PLS PLS PLS PLS

also maybe sevika in this but in purple? anyone?

Not edited nor proofread

part two maybe?

•••

Sevika grunts slamming herself against a wall as shimmer leaks out of her mechanic arm after her fight with Vi. She knew she had to get somewhere fast before anyone sees her in a vulnerable state, she couldn't risk that. Sevika spots a little shop that looks like it was about to close, making her act quick as she rushes over

"Hey!", she calls out to the person who jumps and immediately turns around

Your eyes immediately widened when you spots Sevika, Silco's right hand, rush over to you with the shimmer leaking out behind her

"I'm sorry but we're close", you say watching as the woman brushes by you and inside the shop, " or not...", you mumbled under your breath walking inside and locking the door

"You work with mechanic stuff?", Sevika asks you flopping down on one of the chairs and struggles to pull out a smoke

"Yeah...why?", you question watching her every move carefully

The woman before you chuckles at your wariness, "don't worry doll face, i just need your help with this ol' thing", Sevika motions to her mechanic arm as you raise an eyebrow crossing your arms

"What's in it for me?", You question watching Sevika snort lighting the tobacco up

"I'll pay ya?", Sevika mostly questions you watching you think through and about it before sighing and nodding getting right into work

•••

You sigh as you watch Sevika stumble in the shop beat up a bit and with her mechanic arm clearly having some difficulties.

Ever since the first day she came to your shop, she started coming more frequently when she was either beat up or her mechanic arm needed fixing, or even both.

"Why do you always do this to yourself?", you question her cleaning up her bruises first as she smokes some tobacco, looking over at you with a raised eyebrow

"Do what?", she questions

"Get beat up or fuck up your arm and then come to see me to help you", you clarify moving on to fix her arm

In truth, after that day Sevika first came in here, she got interested in you. So everyday she would purposely lose most of her fights just to limp her way over there to watch and see you. She just didn't want to admit it, thinking it would be to embarrassing and in her eyes, weak.

You look up at Sevika when she doesn't respond, seeing her looking at you which makes her immediately look away with a scoff

" Your closer to where I fight", she shrugs noticing you already know she's lying, " or i just like the way you fix my arm, it seems to work better", she decides to add

You sigh and shake your head continuing to work on her arm not noticing the way she looks at you fondly without her even realizing it either.

•••

Your cleaning up your shop when you hear the bell to the door ring and heavy footsteps walk in

"Sevika", you assume turning around only to immediately get knocked out just as quickly

Finn watches as his men carry you out and rush to their hideout

" What's so important...about her?" Renni asks looking around the shop

" A way to lure in Sevika, one of my men were watching her and told me all about that girl", Finn chuckles, " it's a way to get Sevika on our side and to end Silco."