#arcane requests

viktor would always reply with the click of his tongue against his teeth, a subconscious response to reveal his annoyance to the constant question.

jayce ambled over to viktor’s workbench, his soft gaze lingering on the leaner male’s hunched over frame, his cane propped up beside him.

viktor continued to scribble notes into his navy blue notebook, the pages overflowing with his thoughts and theories. an almost accurate depiction of his never silent mind. he knew jayce was waiting for a reply, his shoulders tensed as he jotted down more observations on the hexcore’s development.

viktor’s hands found the small of his back, and he pressed into it, wincing as though his fingers might coax out the sharp knot of pain lodged there. carefully, he leaned backward, his spine protesting audibly with a series of crackling pops. his pale face twisted as the motion sent a fresh bolt of pain shooting down into his hips.

he grimaced, hunching back over his desk. viktor sagged forward in his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he tried to steady his breathing. the sharp knot in his back throbbed, each attempt to straighten it sending pain knifing down into his hips. he grimaced, sinking further into his seat, his pale frame folding inward.

he rested his forehead in one hand, his other lying motionless on the desk, as though still hoping the ache might fade on its own.

“thirty eight- maybe nine, hours.” viktor managed to utter out through gritted teeth, his voice taut with frustration and exhaustion. his hand slid down his face, fingers trembling as they brushed his jaw. the silence of the lab was broken only by the faint hum of machinery and the rustle of papers strewn haphazardly across the desk.

behind him, jayce had been watching his discomfort, with arms crossed. he frowned, concern flickering across his face. "V" he mumbled out softly, stepping forward. "that’s not something to be proud of, you know."

viktor didn’t respond, his shoulders curling tighter as if the weight of jayce’s words were pressing him further into the desk. the taller man came closer, placing a hesitant hand on viktor’s shoulder. his palm was warm against the sharp line of viktor’s bony frame.

"you’ve got to sleep. you’re not helping anyone like this." jayce murmured, his tone gentler now, carrying more affection than scolding.

viktor let out a dry, humorless laugh, though it caught painfully in his throat. "time doesn’t wait for rest." he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual edge.

jayce didn’t reply immediately. instead, his hand slid upward, his fingers brushing against viktor’s neck before settling on his shoulders. he began to knead the stiff muscles there, his touch firm but careful.

"you’re so damn stubborn" he said, shaking his head, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "and completely tied in knots.“

viktor stiffened at the first touch, but the tension in his shoulders slowly began to give way, melting reluctantly beneath jayce’s hands. he didn’t move or protest, though his silence spoke volumes. each slow, deliberate press of jayce’s fingers unraveled some of the tightness buried beneath viktor’s pale, hunched frame, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint hum of the lab equipment.

“if you keep this up, you’ll get sick—” jayce began softly, his voice low with worry.

“i am sick.” viktor cut him off sharply, his breath hitching in his throat. the words hung heavy in the air, final and unflinching, as if he had long come to terms with them. his jaw clenched, and he stared blankly at the desk in front of him, the faintest tremor in his hands betraying more than he intended.

jayce froze for a moment, his hands still resting on viktor’s shoulders. he fluttered his eyes shut, swallowing hard as if to push down the ache rising in his chest. it wasn’t news, not really, but hearing Viktor say it so plainly—so resignedly—felt like a fist tightening around his heart.

he opened his eyes and looked down at viktor, his face softening. “then all the more reason.” jayce murmured, his voice quieter now, tinged with something raw. he resumed the gentle massage, his fingers slower, more deliberate. “you’ve got to give yourself a break. at least let me help you.”

viktor let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging further under Jayce’s touch. “help?” he muttered bitterly, though the bite in his voice was dulled by exhaustion. “there’s no helping this, jayce. only—only work.”

jayce moved closer, his chest almost brushing against viktor’s back now.

“you’re not a machine, viktor.” he said firmly, his hands pressing into the stubborn knots still holding tension along viktor’s shoulders. “you don’t have to do this alone. you shouldn’t.”

viktor’s fingers curled weakly against the desk, his head dipping slightly. he didn’t answer, his silence heavy with a quiet vulnerability he rarely allowed anyone to see. jayce leaned down just a little, his voice dropping to a murmur. “let me take care of you for once. just... let me, okay?”

for a long moment, viktor didn’t respond. then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded, his head bowing further, as though surrendering was the only thing he had the energy to do.

jayce exhaled quietly, his hands stilling for a moment as he processed viktor's subtle nod. it wasn't much, but it was enough. his fingers resumed their slow, deliberate motion, working over the sharp lines of viktor's shoulders, careful not to push too hard.

he could feel the tension in every sinew, a reflection of how much viktor carried and how little he let go.

"good," jayce murmured, his voice low, steady. "just for a minute, okay? let me help you. you deserve that much."

Complexes on your body are a very normal thing, especially when you live in a city where most people are thin or muscular due to poor living conditions.

And spending time in front of the mirror looking at your own body is something equally normal, even if your thighs today seem softer than usual.

In these moments you don’t want to be perceived, but at the same time you feel the need to be hugged, to feel loved and valid even if you are struggling to accept yourself.

When you approach Vi you feel almost guilty

She looks up from her knuckles, clumsily wrapped in clean gauze

"Hey honey, why this sad face?"

Her voice is sweet as she searches for your gaze, and when she notices that your eyes are shiny, she immediately rises and approaches you.

she takes your face in her hands just lifting it, her thumbs -rough and ruined by calluses and scars- gently caressing your cheekbones.

"I put on weight" you whispers with broken voice, you can not look into her eyes because of the growing sense of shame

That’s why you don’t know exactly how to react when her lips stretch in the softest smile you’ve ever seen.

"Is that what bothers you, honey? It’s because I’m a magnificent cook. I learned directly from Jericho, but my father was also good at cooking" she whispers, leaning her forehead against yours, and gradually synchronizing her breath to calm you.

her tone is calm, sweet but also playful, and this is enough to tear you a smile despite the eyes are still wet

"idiot" you whisper when she leaves you a soft kiss on the lips before bringing her hands to your hips, squeezing not too hard on the softest points.

"It’s all mine" she says proudly as her fingers start tickling you until you forget she was sad a moments before.

When she sees you’re on the edge of tears, she stops to fill your face with kisses before bending over and effortlessly pulling you into her arms.

No matter how much you weigh, that girl’s arms are ready to support you without any difficulty. Years and years of fighting in the lanes have not been in vain.

absolutely necessary to add how deeply she loves your body: she makes you understand it constantly pinching gently your cheeks, resting with her head on your lap when you are on the couch, pulling your legs on hers to caress them carelessly when you talk, kissing every inch of your skin when you’re laying in the blankets.

but on those days where you are more insecure she says it aloud, if necessary she does not have a problem doing the small house chores holding you in her arms.

The odds of her making you sit on the table and telling you how much she loves everything about your between kisses are so high that they’re a certainty.

runs all over your body with her lips in a single path of kisses and compliments whispered against the skin, leaving occasionally small marks that can remind you, when you look in the mirror, how much she loves that body.