mr. viktor arcane

media i'll write for:

The Arcane (favorites: Viktor, Jayce, Vander, Mel)

Splatoon (favorites: Marina, Shiver, Pearl, Frye)

Arcana (favorites: Muriel, Nadia)

Super Mario Bros (favorites: Bowser, Luigi)

Marvel (favorites: Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Peter B Parker)

Legend of Zelda (favorites: Link, Zelda, Sidon, Ganon, Revali)

My Hero Academia (favorites: Aizawa, All Might)

the only requirements to request a story are:

give me the character(s) you want me to write (adult characters only)

if you want an x reader fic, and don't specify a gender for the reader, I'm making the reader gender neutral.

give me a prompt/scenario

Good Example: viktor x male!reader where the reader tries to get viktor out of the lab on a late night, lots of fluff! (the more details the better)

Great Example: Link x Sidon modern!au where Link is an artist and hires Sidon to be his model for a painting and they both realize that Link was best friends with Sidon's older sister Mipha back in high school. (I looooove specific AUs and a good idea for where I can take this story)

Bad Example: viktor x reader (that's it. what am I supposed to do what that. this is two words with a letter inbetween.)

just a note about requests:

feel free to request as much as you want, whatever ship or scenario you want (within reason. don't be weird.)

I don't fill out requests in a specific order, so feel free to resend your fic idea if it's been a week and I haven't written anything

there are some characters I'm better at writing than others, and I have those characters listed in the medias I'll write for, but I can certainly try to write others you may want, again, the more specific you are in your request, the better.

I don't really do angst much. I can tolerate a little bit but I'm always gonna give it a happy ending. sorry, I've got a heart made out of marshmallows.

Anyways, thanks for reading.

“Nay, I believe tis a species of jellyfish,” Buttons interjects where he’s staring over the railing at the slowly rising moon. Without warning, he spins around to stand directly under Stede’s nose. “If Cap’n Blackbeard is missing, I’ll gladly be your guide. I know many a jellyfish. Personally, even. The moon is ripe and the fish are f-”

“That’s quite enough, Mr. Buttons, but I do appreciate the offer,” Making a quick exit from that particular conversation, Stede addresses the group again. “Seriously, you guys! Have any of you seen Ed at all??”

“Not in a bit, no,” Lucius rolls his eyes, pulling himself from where he was oh-so importantly perched on Black Pete’s lap, staring into his eyes and whispering who knows what into his ear. The same thing they did almost every night. “Don’t even think of dragging me along to the Republic as your sexy, little assistant again. I still have nightmares about Spanish Jackie’s and the way that nose jar smelled when you shattered the thing into a million little pieces.”

“Yes, thank you, Lucius. We all remember! Haha, very funny! You don’t have to keep bringing it up,” Stede huffs haughtily, his nose up in the air as he turns toward his captain’s quarters. Obviously his crew was busy with much more important matters, not that he’d expect any of the bunch to know where Edward was when he didn’t want to be found. Stede would have sought out Oluwande and asked him, but Jim and him had snuck into their private quarters an hour ago. And last time Stede went and knocked on their door out of the blue, Jim had thrown a dagger through it and took an inch off his bangs.

So. That was a no-go.

Pushing aside the heavy door to his quarters, he’s greeted to the sight of his dark and empty sitting room. It was much less lavish than when it was first built, all of his bells and whistles torn and thrown into the sea after his and Ed’s…brief break up. Gilden decorations and lost books aside, Stede rather liked the new vibes. It was a reminder of who he was and who he’s become all in one. A reminder of his new life with Edward, the one he almost abandoned for a wife and children who were far better off without him lingering around their estate like some miserable, half-dead ghost. It was bitter sweet but functional and, best of all, fitted with a bed large enough for him and his co-captain to share.

A bed that was suspiciously more rumpled than it was before Stede left to speak with his crew, Ed’s favorite pillow missing.

While he and Stede were back together and working on better communication, Edward still had his share of bad days. Days where he felt more Legendary Kraken than man. Where there had once been boiling hurt and burning anger, now remained embers of shame. Shame over trashing Stede’s ship, shame over ditching Stede’s crew, shame over letting Izzy get to him so badly that he nearly killed Stede when they reunited. Shame that manifested in Ed hiding himself away in random holes throughout the ship, isolating himself as a form of punishment.

It was something that Stede was trying to help Edward with, but it could be hard to help someone who didn’t want to be found. Luckily for Stede, though, he could at least narrow down his love’s hiding spot to somewhere in his quarters. An added bonus was his lack of lavish decorations left Ed very few spaces to sequester himself away in.

Silently creeping through his room, Stede avoided creaky spots in the wood flooring as he glanced around his cabin. The fireplace was empty, as was their bed, and underneath the couch. It might seem ridiculous to look in places so small, but after the last month, Stede knew that if it could even slightly fit Edward? The man would find a way to hide away in there when you least expected it.

To his left, out of the corner of his eye, Stede noticed the hidden door to his wardrobe cracked just barely open. It was the only place in his quarters that had been untouched, even when Edward was dead set on throwing out any other reminder of Stede. Immediately he ceased his tiptoeing around and walked forward towards the bed.

“Shame that my darling Edward’s up and disappeared on me,” Stede projects, hopefully loud enough to reach into even the farthest corner of the closet. He flops backwards onto the bed, being sure to make as much noise as he can as he kicks off his heavy boots and settles in.

The bed in the ship’s window is the only thing on the ship that has remained a true luxury. Even more so after Edward began sleeping in it as well. Who would have guessed that the most feared pirate of all seven seas had a penchant for fleece blankets softer than you could imagine and plush pillows you could push into just about any shape you wanted. The infamous Blackbeard was stubborn and embarrassed about any other sign of luxury, but the draw of a comfy bed to crawl back to after a long, hard day was just too irresistible.

“It truly is sad…I have a blanket with ALL this extra room and no one to share it with…” Stede laments, grabbing the corners of one of Edward’s favorite blankets and rolling up in it. For a moment, he’s silent. Holding himself as still as possible to listen past the soft crush of waves against the Revenge, so that he might hear any sign of life from in the wardrobe. His answer is the sound of the wardrobe door finally clicking shut all the way. So much for that idea.

Stede slides out of bed, keeping Ed’s thick, warm blanket tight around his shoulders. As much as he’s striving to make things right between them, struggling to make up for his mistakes. It’s always a shot in the dark for him. Never in his life has he had this much to lose, this much to love. It was partly why he had run, it’s terrifying having your heart beat outside of your chest in the hands of somebody else. Even now there was a sickly, frightened voice from the back of his mind. It was yelling at him to head back out to the deck. Edward hates him and he’s only going to make things worse by pushing and pushing until Ed pushes back and they’ll be right back to square one.

Ignoring that small voice, Stede pushes forward and stands outside the hidden door.

What good has running away EVER done him?

Knocking lightly on the door, Stede clears his throat and asks, “Ed? May I come in?”

On the other side of the door there’s silence. For over a minute! Stede’s practically shaking where he stands, the sick voice in his head getting louder and louder. This was a mistake! Of course he doesn’t want to see you! This is all your fault, you weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily livere-

The door to the wardrobe quietly clicks back open.

Letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, Stede slumps a little. That had been a tense moment! Probably the most nervous he’s been all week! Which is saying something, he’s a pirate, you know.

He waits for the door to open further, for Edward to say something, make a noise, anything. Nothing goes on beyond the door opening just an inch. It’s small, but it’s enough for Stede.

The wardrobe is near pitch black when he toes the door aside and quickly closes it behind himself. As much as he adores his crew and always maintains an open door policy for any brave soul who might need to talk out their tangled emotions from their latest battle…well, nobody really even came into his room to do that. And right now Lucius whining about something or other or a bizarre bird related rant from Buttons was the last thing that would help him and Edward’s precarious situation.

Not sure he’d be able to make it more than a step or two without falling ass over elbows, Stede sits with his back to the door, blanket still snug around his shoulders.

“I’m not stupid. I know what you were trying to do out there,” Ed rasps after five minutes in silence. Edward could sit in silence for hours, maybe even days when it meant waiting out a particularly stubborn adversary. He’s used to playing strong and sullen and silent, but there’s just something about Stede not running his mouth for longer than a few seconds that just unnerves the man. It has him fighting the urge to fill the silence himself, which he knows is exactly why the bastard does it. Gentleman Pirate, his ass. These were dirty tricks.

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Ed,” Stede says back, matching his love’s quiet tone albeit much gentler. The blonde desperately wishes he could see Ed in here. That he could reach out and tuck his hair behind his ear, pull him close, beg him to forgive whatever he did this time to make him disappear again. “What’s going on?”

From somewhere a few feet to his left, there’s shuffling and a quiet sigh. Then silence again.

“Is it-? Did I-?” Stede begins and is almost immediately cut off.

“Oh, please, Stede. It’s not all about you,” Edward huffs, a sharper rustling noise coming from his direction. Stede can almost imagine the other rolling his eyes and folding his arms across his chest in frustration.

“Fair,” Stede chuckles. That’s yet another thing they’re working on, Stede’s insistence that all things evil and wretched were his doing. Albeit usually Edward spoke about it in a much kinder tone than this, but Stede couldn’t blame him. Not when he was centering himself when Ed was the one suffering. “Then talk to me. Tell me what’s going through your mind.”

“I just-!” Edward starts loud, the noise sounding sharp in the small space between them, but cuts himself off with a strangled groan. It’s always like this, like a physical block in his chest preventing him from saying anything. His throat tight and his face burning, it makes him want to tear down the frilly shirts and jackets he can feel brushing against his shoulders. But same as Stede working on his own self-blame, Edward is working on not letting his fight-or-fight response take hold of him. “Does it EVER get easier?!”

This time it’s Stede that needs a moment to gather his thoughts. He feels woefully unqualified to answer that question. Just ten minutes ago he was internally tearing himself to shreds, contemplating running out to the deck and jumping overboard just to drown out the unceasing thoughts of self-doubt. He was still struggling, what right does he have to comment on if it gets better or not??

“I think it does,” Stede says quietly, surprising himself. “I mean, just look at us! Do you think a month ago you would have even entertained me coming in here while you’re like this? Or even speak to me?”

“Well, no, but…” Edward starts weakly, his half-formed protest dying almost immediately.

“There we go, proof!” Stede is grinning into the dark now, Ed can hear it in his voice. “I don’t think this kind of thing ever goes away, really…but it will get easier. The time will keep passing, and before you know it, you’re surrounded by family you never thought you could have. You’ll find that you haven’t struggled like you used to in a long time.”

It’s quiet in the wardrobe once Stede finishes his little speech. He politely pretends he doesn’t hear sniffling coming from in front of him. Without warning, Edward flops into his side, burrowing his way under the blanket still covering his shoulders.

“Where’d you learn all that, huh?” Ed mutters while Stede happily wraps an arm around his shoulders and tugs him in close. “Certainly not from any bloody pirates.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I read it in a book somewhere, or maybe it’s just a universal truth. Who knows?” Stede sighs happily, feeling like a missing piece of him has been returned to its rightful place.

“Sounds like a crock of shit to me,” Edward teases back, not an ounce of sincerity in his voice.

“Oh, whatever! Seems to have done the trick just nicely,” Stede hums happily as he turns enough to wrap both arms around the other. Returning the embrace, Ed wraps his arms around Stede’s torso, burying his face into the space between his neck and shoulder.

“Sorry for screwing up the whole Republic idea you made,” Edward mumbles into the warm skin just above Stede’s collar. “Would’ve been proper nice to get in and old-fashioned bar fight. Might’ve even got to stab someone.”

“Ah, yes. Well, another time. Plenty of stabbings ahead of us, dear!” Stede’s a little less bummed about missing their evening in the Republic of Pirates now. While he’d done major change after starting his new life as a pirate, it wasn’t THAT much progress. “I think I’d rather like to stay in this evening, anyways.”

Making a soft noise of agreement, Edward sinks fully into Stede’s arms, going limp like a puppet with his strings cut. It makes Stede’s heart flutter almost painfully and it’s like suddenly he understands every trashy romance novel he’d ever snuck onto his bookshelves. For all the struggle and strife it took to maintain an actual relationship, the benefits largely outweighed any temporary discomfort.

“Ah, but maybe not on the floor of the wardrobe,” Sheepishly, Stede tries his best to shift his leg out from under where it’s pinned under Ed. “I think both of my feet are asleep.”

Edward laughs heartily as he sits up and shoves the hidden door back open. Hazey, burning light floods the once pitch space of the closet. It turns Edward’s eyes a honeyed orange that glows warmly as the two pirates stare at each other, positively love sick.

“That smells divine…” She mumbles, trudging to their small kitchen table to add her load to a growing pile of clutter that’s began to form in the chaos of the last week of school. Arms free, Zelda shuffles over to where Link is humming over the stove top, his hips swaying in such a way that she has to refrain from gripping at them. Instead she settles for pressing her chest to his back, arms wrapping around his torso snugly as she noses along the nape of his neck. Link tries his best to act unfazed as she presses chaste kisses up and up towards his ear, watching it twitch slightly, the tip tinged red. As stoic as her knight likes to play, she knows the cracks in his armor and it makes her grin.

“I just finished cooking,” Link hums as he leans back slightly into his princess’ hold. On the stove is a steaming…disk? She’s never seen something of the like before, almost looking like the circular flat breads she enjoys with every other meal in Gerudo Valley. 

“What…is that?” Zelda asks almost nervously. She trusts in his culinary ability, knowing damn well she can barely manage to boil water herself. However, at the same time she’s seen Link choke down dubious concoctions of frogs and monster bits alongside actual goddess forsaken rocks. So it’s sort of a toss up.

Link chuckles as he carefully begins cutting the circular bread in half with a satisfying crunch. “Pizza.”

Zelda nods and hums in response, like she totally understands whatever the fuck Link just said. There’s silence for a moment more before she cannot physically hold her tongue any longer. “Is that a real word or are you just messing with me and this is going right over my head?”

“It’s new,” Link says, not bothering to hide his laughter at Zelda’s response as he quarters the pizza. “Koyin needed my help at the lake. Sent me on like ten different missions today, and ended with us getting more cheese than we can eat.”

“Cheese?” Zelda repeats, the word scratching at a memory just beyond her grasp. Something she must have read in passing.

She had been doing research into the culture and history of Hateno Village back when she first returned from her 100 year stint keeping Calamity Ganon down. It had been hard to walk out of Link’s meager home, the world around her new and strange and different from the one she once knew. Worse than that she was scared of the people. Her people. Scared of what they’d think, scared they’d blame her for their losses. Their princess, the goddess’ chosen hero of wisdom, missing for a century and somehow getting to show up again seemingly unscathed. It had taken her a long time before she was able to step foot into town. Months even. Probably would’ve lasted an entire year if Link’s home had not been truly desolate and mind numbingly plain. There was only so many times she could rearrange their three pieces of furniture before even the ridicule of her beloved people outweighed the boredom of staring out the same window for hours on hours as she waited for Link to return.

The town library had been her first stop.

“Yeah, cheese. Koyin even lent me an old recipe from her grandfather. Pizza,” Link explains as he pulls a quarter of the pizza apart from the circle. Long, steaming strings of cheese connect the slice to the remaining pieces. Zelda’s stomach growls where it’s pressed to Link’s back, both of them freezing up at the sound. Link sets the pizza back down and gives her a curious look over his shoulder. “Have you eaten at all today?”

Not wanting to worry her partner, Zelda immediately slips into damage control mode. She leans in, pressing another hot line of kisses up the side of Link’s neck. These ones are open mouthed and lingering compared to the light pecks from earlier, lightly dragging her teeth across a bruise she’d left there earlier in the week. Link’s ear twitches again, harder this time as his focus slips a bit, but he pulls himself together at the last moment. He turns in Zelda’s arms to give her a disappointed look.

“Did you work through your lunch break again?” Link’s brows are pulled together in worry as he leans back against the stove, putting enough distance between them to fold his arms. No matter how pretty she tries to bat her eyelashes, her stubborn knight refuses to budge an inch.

With a sigh, her arms drop from Link’s hips to fold around her own torso, defensively mirroring Link’s posture without realizing. “It was another half day at the school, and you know how many of the students show up to after school care when the day is over.”

“And nobody could cover you for lunch?” Link prods, still looking at her with those kicked puppy blue eyes that made her want to storm away and sleep the rest of the day away as if she were a teen again. Zelda hates that she makes him worry. Hates that she takes up space in his mind like that, hates that she takes up space in general. Hates being useless. Hates not being able to take a break. Hates constantly worrying that she isn’t doing enough. She doesn’t say it out loud. After so long at each other’s sides, she doesn’t really need to. Link sighs sadly. He doesn’t have to say it out loud either, but she knows he wants to shake her by the shoulders and insists she matters, that she deserves to rest.

“Come sit and eat,” He says instead, arms falling back to his sides. The tension brewing in Zelda dissipates immediately, her shoulders slumping like a puppet with cut strings. There’s a terrible ache in her lower back she hadn’t noticed until she stopped running about like a cuccoo with its head chopped off. She presses a light kiss to the corner of his lips as thanks, one he reels her in to return in full. The two only part from the kiss when Zelda’s stomach decides to make itself known yet again. Link chuckles against her lips, tapping her hip where his hands had slid up to hold her during their kiss. “Sit. Eat.”

“Unf, Link. You know how hot it gets me when you use caveman speak,” Zelda teases as she does as told, sliding into her usual seat at the table. Link sends a half-hearted glare her way, signing something along the lines of ‘go fuck yourself,’ before turning his attention back to their dinner.

As much as she adores giving her boyfriend a hard time, she adores every word to come out of his mouth. When they were younger, Link said hardly a word to her despite how many she hurled at him. Being seventeen is hard. Being the princess was harder. Being her knight was likely even harder than that. Zelda finds herself getting stuck on her treatment of Link, taking his silence for judgment. Judgment that he wielded the sword, a random knight from Hyrule goddess chosen and capable. Judgment that no matter how many days and nights she spent praying and begging for an answer, she was left in silence. Silence from the goddess Hylia, silence from her chosen knight. Expectant silence while everyone stared and waited for something incredible she just wasn’t capable of.

Zelda’s spiraling was interrupted by a plate pointedly placed in front of her. Link’s eyebrow is quirked in a silent question when she drags her gaze up from where it had been blindly boring holes into their wooden tabletop. A silent question from her no longer silent knight.

“Sorry, just lost in thought. This is perfect, thank you beloved,” She sighs, watching her love’s ears turn pink as he hurries back to the stove to grab his own slice. 

While no longer completely mute, Link still had his moments. They were becoming fewer and far between when it was just the two of them. Primarily when Link’s having a bad day. But Zelda’s found she quite enjoys his silence as well, now. Especially when its cause is sweet pet names that fluster the knight to no end.

It isn’t long before the two are seated and digging into yet another lovely home cooked meal from the hero of Hyrule. The pizza is unlike anything she’s tried before, but it’s something she could get used to eating. Her first bite is followed by a moan that nearly causes Link to drop his own slice. If that hadn’t proved to him how delicious the food was, the way they devoured the whole pizza in silence did.

“Link,” Zelda groans as she leans back in her chair. “You’ve truly outdone yourself. You must make this again.”

‘I’d make it every single day if you wanted me to, princess.’ Link signs the words to her instead of speaking them aloud, something he does often when saying something sweet. Zelda’s heart squeezes with affection, hiding a giddy grin by sipping from her water. It’s intoxicating to know she has such an effect on her partner. To reduce him to such a blushing, stuttering mess.

The air between them shifts, Zelda’s eyes going half-lidded as she stares across the table at Link as if she would devour him next. Which honestly, she thought to herself, wasn’t such a bad idea…

“The hero of Hyrule AND an amazing chef? How can I ever repay your valiant efforts toward the crown of Hyrule?” She teases as she stands from her chair and slowly stalks towards where Link’s staring with wide eyes. 

A strangled noise gets caught in his throat when Zelda turns his chair out from the table and then gracefully sinks to her knees in front of him. This isn’t anything new for the two of them, but Link is flustered and stumbling over his words like it’s the first time all over again. Unable to put words to his thoughts, Link settles on breathlessly whispering her name as her hands slide up his calves to his thighs. He shifts under her palms unconsciously, biting his bottom lip in anticipation.

“Ah, I mean - well…if you insist,” Link finally stutters out.

Zelda grins up at him wickedly. She flicks her short hair out of her face as she shuffles up closer, something she would soon regret as a bolt of hot pain radiates down her spine from the top of her neck. If she had been standing up her knees would have surely buckled underneath her. Her only saving grace is that she’s already on her knees and instead she falls forward and face plants into her partner’s thigh with a muffled ‘oof’.

The mood between them is shattered as Link immediately tenses up beneath her. Sitting up from his formerly slumped position, he gently brushes her hair out of her face. He’s nervous to move her and worsen the pain.

“Zelda?? Are you ok?” Link asks earnestly. It’s enough to make her face heat up and she turns away from his light touches and groans frustratedly into the meat of his thigh. She can feel him relax some as he gently runs his fingers through her hair. “You overdid it again, didn’t you?”

Both of them were aware of her tendencies to work until she, sometimes literally, dropped. Zelda liked to ignore it, which only made Link more persistent in his attempts at getting her to slow down and take a breath. Ironic, she thought, when Link was definitely the more overtly self-destructive of the two. Of course, she also didn’t see her overworking tendencies as self-destructive, though, which Link vehemently disagrees with. The two could go round and round about it until they were both red in the face and exhausted. Which sometimes they did.

“It was the last day of school, I couldn’t just…leave early,” Zelda sighs, turning her face enough for her voice to be heard clearly. It sounded like a weak excuse even to her own ears, which drooped down in shame.

“Are the other teachers really that bad at their jobs?” Link mumbles, starting to unravel the braids that circle Zelda’s head.

“What? No! They’re entirely capable, I trust them with the physical well-being of any of the children in Hateno,” She says almost indignantly, as if she’d dare let someone unqualified for the job risk the safety of a child.

“Then what’s the issue?”

That gives Zelda pause. She starts and stops nearly four different attempts at defending her actions, but still ends up short. Curse Link and his occasional wisdom. She hates when he makes sense.

“I worry…” Zelda starts, her voice small. “I worry something out of everyone’s control will occur. Whether that be a disaster of some sort? Another calamity? I don’t know. I just feel it all the time, this overwhelming dread like something bad is going to happen. Like…like…”

“Like the other shoe is going to drop?” Link finishes for her when she trails off. “I know. I feel it too.”

“But if I’m there, if I’m present, I can stop it. I can help them in ways other can’t, I can finally stop being so useless-”

Pausing where he was gently unraveling the plaits in Zelda’s hair, he gingerly takes her face in both of his hands. So light and gentle like she’s glass, like she’ll break apart into a thousand pieces so small they can’t possibly piece them together again.

“Calamity Ganon is gone. We’re safe. We have a home in Hateno. You’re princess Zelda of Hyrule. You love frogs and helping the village kids learn how the world around them works. You like pizza,” Link lists fact after fact about her until she finally looks him in the eyes and rests a hand over top of his, still cupping her face.

She recognizes what he’s doing. It’s a grounding technique she uses often when Link is suffering through a bad day. When he swears he can still feel the cold chill of the resurrection shrine, when he coughs with phantom smoke from Ganon’s putrid gloom.

“I hate when you make sense,” With another exaggerated groan, Zelda turns back to hiding her face in his leg, biting down lightly in retaliation. Link giggles almost giddily, his thighs ticklish as he struggles not to jostle his partner.

“C’mon. Stove’s still burning, I can heat some water for a bath,” Link offers as he finishes loosening the last of her braids. He runs his fingers gently through the wavy locks until the last bit of tension drops from Zelda’s shoulders. “Might help with the pain.”

Zelda doesn’t bother denying the soreness that’s truly settling into her muscles now that she’s stopped running about. There’s a dull throb along her back and her knees feel awkward and numb where she’s been resting all her weight on them for the past ten minutes. Taking Link’s offered hands, she lets her knight help her to her feet and pulls him up with her. He nearly stumbles into her, but turns it into an embrace at the last second. His arms are wrapped tight around her waist as he stares up at her through his messy bangs. 

While Zelda had been trying out increasingly shorter hair styles, it seemed like Link was content to let his own hair grow far past his shoulders. Not that she was complaining. The added length made it much more fun to tug at in…certain situations. Link’s breath hitches as Zelda reaches up to tangle her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. She’s got a firm but gentle grip, not pulling. Not yet, anyways.

“Only if you’re to join me, beloved.” Zelda hums. She’s all too pleased to see the mood may not have been entirely ruined, giggling behind her hand as Link ducks out of her hold and immediately rushes out to grab a bucket of water from their well out back.

It’s been years now since the two defeated the Calamity. It’ll be years in the future before they may live unburdened by the pain of their shared suffering. But Zelda finds herself not minding the aches and sore spots as much as she thought she would. 

To her it’s a sign of progress. 

Marina watches as her co-host slumps back into her chair, a satisfied grin on her face as she watches their crew celebrate a truly fantastic last Splatfest. As much as they played it up for the camera, Marina is proud of her Pearl for winning. They’ve come so far over the past two years, Marina never thought she could accomplish anything like that. She’d been stuck in OCtavio’s army for what had felt like forever, making weapons that were to be used on the very city she now loved.

But here she was! A star! An Inkopolis Square star with a show she helps run with her closest companion in the whole world! Oh, and here Marina is, getting teary eyed again…

“Everything fresh, ‘Rina?” Pearl asks, scooting to the edge of her seat where Marina was still standing in front of her own host’s chair. “I’m sorry Team Order lost, I can make sure your side of the apartment has NO chaos on it at all, swear!”

“You’re too sweet, Pearlie. I’m ok, I just,” Marina pauses to wipe at her eyes, smiling a shaky smile down at her other half. “Just a li’l overwhelmed is all.”

“Too overwhelmed for our Off the Hook wrap party?!” Pearl springs up from her chair, bouncing excitedly around their set. “Crusty Sean is gonna cater it and even Annie’s gonna be there, and I haven’t seen her ONCE since she started working for Sheldon! Oooh, I wonder if I can get Sheldon to drink enough Ink-well Chillers then maybe I can finally convince him to make that portable Princess Cannon-oh! Or I-”

“Pearlie-”

“Maybe I can convince Annie! We went to school together, I’m sure if I promised to use my cool-rockstar-celebrity influence to get some primo snacks for her clown fish then maybe-”

“Pearlie, I don't think I-”

“Hm. I lied, I actually don’t know what clown fish eat, and if I killed Annie’s fish then I’d probably get banned from Ammo Knights for life. Heh, not that that’s a bad thing. Save me from listenin’ to the old man’s drivel. I swear, that fool can just talk and talk and talk and-”

“Pearl!!” Marina finally raises her voice, fighting to be heard over Pearl’s externalized internal monologue. “Sorry, Pearlie. Just had to get your attention. I don’t…I don’t think I’m gonna come to the wrap party tonight.”

Pearl’s demeanor switched almost immediately, going from hopping around the studio to standing still as ever in front of Marina. A clammy sweat formed on the back of Marina’s neck, she hated to bring down the mood, but today had been…a lot. Between the emotions running high in their last Splatfest special and all the work this Spaltfest has entailed…It’s just too much. Marina’s good in a crisis, less so in a giant dance hall full of inklings just begging to talk to her or to pull her into a dance or sing for them. As much as she’d like to stand by Pearl’s side at that stuffy after party, she’s 90% sure it would trigger an episode right about now.

“Word, ‘Rina. Do you want me to pick up some take-out instead?” Pearl cocks her head to the side, gold eyes clear of judgment or disappointment or anything other than the adoration and affection she held for her co-host and best friend.

“Huh? Take out?” Marina’s face was heating up, Pearl’s eye contact was always intense and made her feel like a clumsy little girl again.

“Yeah! I mentioned Crusty Sean’s earlier, I’ve been cravin’ a Galactic Seanwich all week, but I think there’s gonna be a food truck stoppin’ by too. Crab-n-go I think?” Pearl continued on like Marina wasn’t having a minor conniption. “Ooh, how about a movie? I’ll let you pick this time!”

“No, Pearlie, I mean take out? A movie? What about your wrap party?” Looking down, letting her tentacles fall in her face, Marina turned to stare out through the Inkopolis side windows. “I don’t want you to miss out on a fun night just because I’m…tired tonight.”

Words are hard. The only words that come to Pearl easily are the sick rhymes she writes for her and her ‘Rina’s hot tracks. For as much as Pearl loves to ramble and rap and rhyme, when it comes to expressing herself, expressing how she feels to Marina, she feels she’s fallen short for what feels like the first time in her life. But Pearl would do anything for Marina. She’d move mountains or explode evil telephones or help rescue a super cool secret agent from an underground subway that might, like, actually be the coolest music video back drop ever if they could just-

Pushing through the mental block in her head that stops her from getting mushy on Marina, she grabs both her hands. Marina peeks out from behind her bangs, eyebrows drawn together in worry.

“I’d rather just hang out with you, if I’m honest,” Pearl states simply.

Marina nods her head, almost frantically, gripping Pearl’s hands back and pulling them close to her heart. She also seems at a loss for words. And where silence would normally unsettle Pearl, she found there wasn’t a single place in the world she’d rather be than in front of her partner, asking what she wanted to pick up for dinner.

“Alright,” Marina’s voice was high pitched and strained as she held back from launching into a bear hug and snuggling into Pearl like her life depended on it. “Take out sounds good.”

“And a movie?”

“And a movie,” Marina smiles down at Pearl, pressing a kiss to the back of each of her hands. Pearl lets out an ear piercing squeal that makes Marina thankful for the headphones she never takes off. They come in handy more often than you’d think.

“FRESH yeah!! I heard they just got this new menu item called the Pescatariat Royale!” Pearl rambles on, never letting go of Marina’s hand as they walk out of the studio side-by-side.

There’s paparazzi swarming the building, every Inkopolis reporter and their brother was out there, flashing their cameras and calling out to the stars as they ran to Rina’s dope motorcycle.

For once, her co-host’s hand in hers, Marina just laughed as she ran past the press and hopped on. Pearl immediately tucked in close, wrapping her arm around the other’s waist and throwing out a peace sign as she shouted out her love for their devoted fans.

You were in his lab now, sketching out the shape of him and his lab partner where they’ve been hunched over a complicated set of blueprints for the last hour. This is usually how your sessions worked. With you wandering aimlessly around their lab while they bounced between assignments and answering your questions. The drawing was a more recent addition to the routine, though.

Viktor, who was from the Undercity despite the two of you having never met, was a dream to draw. For as much of a show he put on trying to scare you away during your first report, those sharp angles softened pretty quickly when he realized you didn’t startle easy. His long legs and messy hair just inspired the artist in you in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were young. It was like coming home after so long being stuck in the stuffy yet isolating atmosphere of Piltover.

Then there was Viktor’s partner, Jayce Talis. Jayce didn’t feel familiar like his counterpart, but was intriguing and alluring all the same. Where Viktor’s shape took form in sharp, wispy lines, Jayce’s were sturdy and bold. He was comforting and bright, like sunshine after a storm. And wasn’t that the most fitting way to describe it? Jayce had been full of apologies and little jokes during the first meeting between you three. Where Viktor was a little less than welcoming, Jayce doubled down on friendly smiles and encouraging pats on the back.

Not that either of them could scare you away now. You’ve moved far past the awkward first few interviews, your questions stilted and the atmosphere tense with the distrust coming off of Viktor in waves. It was hard to keep up with how many pieces you’ve done on these two so far, you stopped counting when you ran out of fingers to count them on.

Somewhere between your first article on an exclusive Hexbros interview and the piece you’re currently working on talking about the environmental benefits of Hextech technology, the three of you grew close. Viktor was comfortable, like sepia memories drenched in nostalgia. He was a man from the Undercity through and through, tough and resilient despite all the odds. Then there was Jayce, who was his opposite in every way besides how much he cares. He hadn’t needed more than a day to win your favor, it was like he always knew what to say to you. It did things to your brain. Hence why you’re sitting on the couch in their lab and scribbling down their likeness instead of pestering them for answers like you should.

“It’s been an hour and I’ve answered maybe a question and a half for this piece. Should I come back when you two come back down from outer space?” You call out just loud enough for them to hear as you put the finishing touches on your sketch.

“Sure, let me put a pin in our progress on life-saving, world-changing, investigative technology for your silly newspaper questions,” Viktor hums sarcastically, rummaging through his desk drawer for something. To his right, Jayce’s stomach growls loudly.

“Maybe a break wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Jayce grins sheepishly at you while you’re holding back a laugh. “Science can wait for lunch time, right?”

“How quickly you abandon our team when your stomach’s involved,” Viktor comments while moving over to rummage through Jayce’s desk now.

“Hey! I’m not abandoning anybody, ok?” Jayce scoffs, folding his arms defensively. “And besides, Y/N’s a part of the team too at this point.”

“For putting up with your never-ending appetite?” Viktor grins slyly at Jayce.

“I was thinking more for putting up with your attitude, but…” Jayce has to quickly dodge the balled up paper that Viktor beams at his head. It does nothing to dampen the goofy smile that’s burning your eyes from the sheer warmth and fond exasperation it exudes. “Hey! Stop screwing with my stuff!”

“I wouldn’t have to screw with your stuff if you just kept the lab tidy.”

“You’re messier than I am!”

“You cannot prove that.”

“You wanna bet?”

“Girls, girls! You’re both equally as disgusting as the other! Can we stop arguing now?” You groan, shutting your sketchbook and setting it on top of an identical notebook. Identical except for the paper inside that was lined instead of blank. You tried to keep your reporter’s notes and questions separate from the drawings you did as a hobby. Especially when your hobby mostly consisted of drawing the two other men in the room. “What’re you looking for, Viktor?

“My toolkit. The one I use for detailing,” Viktor huffs, knocking the desk drawer he’d been digging through shut. Both you and Jayce could tell in the tense line of his shoulders that he was actually getting frustrated now.

“Do you remember where you put it last?” Jayce asks, his voice softer as he steps closer to Viktor. You don’t think either of them even notice, but as Jayce moves in, Viktor unconsciously sways towards him. For as much as they bicker like an old married couple, they care deeply for each other.

Maybe it was your reporter’s habit of looking into things too much and drawing conclusions, but you’d thought the two were an item. FOR MONTHS. It’d been earth shatteringly awkward when you called Jayce ‘Viktor’s boyfriend’ in front of them and they had instantly stopped their playful arguing to stare at you, jaws dropped. You’d stopped talking outloud about the conclusions you drew from their behavior since then. For your sanity.

Which was probably for the best seeing as, despite their insistence that they were just friends, the two had obvious feelings for each other. It was clear in the way they spoke to each other, understood the other’s eccentricities and adored them for it. You got the feeling that the two didn’t get to fully be themselves often, making it that much more of a privilege that you can sit on their couch and be a part of it, no matter how minor. There was a sick jealous part of you that squeezed in on itself as you watched Jayce rest a hand on the side of Viktor’s arm. You weren’t sure who you’d rather be in that moment, as Jayce leaned in just that much closer, lowering his voice until it was soft enough only the two could hear it.

Notebook. Yes. Reporting. Mhm, yep. You were here to write a report about Hextech. You should probably stop gawking at the two and actually do what you’re paid to do.

Tearing your gaze away, trying to ignore the pit of longing in your gut and give the boys some privacy, you absently reach for your notebooks and pens and they topple to the floor. You roll your eyes as your favorite color pen rolls under the lab’s couch.

Figures.

Getting on your hands and knees, you stack your notebooks and set them back on the coffee table. Then the hard part. You try and slip your arm under the small gap between the couch and the floor. It’s dusty and you try not to think about what you’re touching until you grab something decidedly un-penlike. Wondering what sort of horrific artifact you’ll find under the couch that has clearly never been cleaned under, you’re surprised to pull out the missing toolbox.

“Good find, Y/N!” Jayce cheers, making you jump where you were still kneeling in front of the couch. Turning to look, you find both men staring at you. You hadn’t even realized they stopped talking to watch you fighting for your life trying to find your pen. Aw, damn. Your pen…that thing’s gone forever now.

“Go figure, looking for my pen and I found your toolkit,” You chuckle goodnaturedly as you stand up from the floor, dusting yourself off.

“Our little lab good luck charm strikes again, however can we repay you?” Viktor teases, him and Jayce headed over to your side of the room now. Whatever Jayce had said to him certainly seemed to put him at ease, your face going red as you played Viktor’s words over and over in your mind. You could think of a couple ways he could repay you. Shit, focus, they’re both staring expectantly.

“You can repay me by getting some actual work done while I grab us lunch,” You make a big show of rolling your eyes as you hand over the box. Viktor gasps in mock offense while Jayce makes puppy dog eyes at you.

“Aw, you’re leaving us?” Jayce whines. “But I didn’t even get to read through your notes yet!”

“There’s not even notes to look through yet, we haven’t gotten anything done this last hour,” You point out. Jayce sighs dramatically, his big, sad eyes still staring pathetically back at you. Incapable of resisting, you grab a book off the table and shove it into his chest. “Here, you big baby. You can look through my old notes while I grab you ungrateful wretches some food.”

Jayce flutters his eyelashes and hugs the book to his chest, “Awww, you always know just the things to say!”

Viktor glares over at Jayce, “What? That’s not fair, what am I supposed to read?” Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as you watch Viktor swipe the other book off the table.  

Drawing Viktor and Jayce in the lab wasn’t just a random thing you decided to do today. Your sketch book was almost entirely filled with different sketches of the men from almost every time you visited the lab for the last six months. If either of them looked through your sketch book you’d probably have to quit your job, move countries, and then completely change your identity so nobody will ever know you’re the poor schmuck falling for the brightest minds in Piltover.

“Not that one!” You yelped, quickly trying to snatch the notebook back from Viktor. Unfortunately, Viktor shoots his arm out of reach lightning fast, filling you with dread. Both men look at you in shock. Which quickly gave way into the most devious smirks you’ve ever seen.

“Why? What’s in here that you don’t want us to see, hm?” Viktor practically purrs, half lidded eyes making you stutter over your words.

“What? Nothing! Give it back!” Making another grab for it, this time Jayce swipes it from Viktor and lifts it high up above his head. You could kill him.

“Hmmmm, I dunno, Viktor. Sounds like there’s something pretty important in here,” Jayce has his free hand on his hip, carrying on a casual conversation with his partner as you jump up and down. You’re getting nowhere with snatching your notebook back. “Maybe we should keep it safe while our darling reporter gets lunch?”

“Oh how kind, Jayce! You wouldn’t mind, would you, doll?” Viktor hums at you. He’s not hiding his amusement at your struggle at all as Jayce chuckles and wiggles the book out of your reach.

Your face is burning from the energy you’re wasting trying to jump as high as you can and also because maybe you’re a little flustered. You’d almost missed the pet names the two had given you. Almost. It wasn’t helping out with your situation at all, though. Focus, time to think of a different tactic.

Neither inventor was prepared for you to take a running start and leap onto Jayce.

“Woah!” Jayce borderline squeaks as he immediately lets go of both books to wrap his arms around you. His big, strong arms that are built with muscle from all the time he spends in the forge. Big, strong arms that are wrapped around your waist to stop you from slipping where you're hanging from his shoulders. You almost don’t even notice that he dropped your books, too caught up in the sheer heat radiating off of him. “Are you ok??”

This hadn’t been your plan.

Originally, you had planned to just climb him until you reached the book, but now with your notebook free and one of the two most handsome men at the academy holding you tight…could you really call it a failed plan?

Right. Jayce asked you a question. And he was staring at you in shock. Viktor was doing the same. OK, yeah, time to be normal. You could do that…right?

After untangling yourself from Jayce’s arms and hopping to the ground, you snatch up your notebook and give the boys a sheepish smile.

“Oh geez, no idea what came over me, guys! Probably just hangry, I’ll go grab that lunch now, enjoy the old notes!” You manage to just duck out of the room as both scientists open their mouths to say something. The bang of the lab door slamming shut has never sounded so sweet before.

It’s a herculean task to not replay that awkward interaction over and over in your head. Feeling tortured as it plays through again and again in your mind’s eye, but it almost feels worse when you try to think of anything else.

You shake yourself mentally as you stand in line at the academy’s dining hall. Yes, you’re the world’s most socially inept reporter. BUT at least you grabbed your book and prevented the world from ending via your stupid crush drawings being exposed to said crushes. Flipping to a random page in your book, you nearly drop it when you open to lined paper and a paragraph detailing the top ten most unconventional uses for Hextech.

The book slams shut, your shaking hands doing so on impulse. Quickly you tear the book open to another page, maybe you were seeing things. It’s an interview on Viktor’s work ethic. Another page. A think piece on Jayce’s past and how it led to where he’s at today. Another page and another and another.

You grabbed the wrong book.

From behind you a student clears their throat, asking if you were gonna move up. The dining hall continued to slowly shuffle forward like your entire world didn’t just stop. On autopilot, you stumble to close the gap in the line, muttering some half-assed apology as your mind reels.

The notebook for your reports was here, which could only mean that your sketchbook was left behind with the last two people you’d ever want it to be left with. There’s no chance in hell they aren’t flipping through it right now and laughing over how hopelessly and desperately in love you are.

To your agony, the dining hall line was steadily shortening, even as you do your best to drag your feet the entire way. You were dreading coming back to the lab.

Maybe there was a chance they had opened to a life drawing of Piltover.

Yeah! Maybe they opened to a less damning picture and decided to respect your wishes for your sketchbook to remain untouched. You were worrying over nothing. It’ll all turn out fine in the end. Probably.

—

“Did you really draw all of these yourself??” You hadn’t even been back in the lab for five seconds before Piltover’s golden boy was in your face, holding a head shot of himself that you’d done in graphite last week.

“I quit. Find a new reporter who will pick up your stupid lunches.”

“Oh, Jayce, leave them alone,” Viktor looks entirely too amused where he’s sitting with his legs crossed. Jayce is leaning against the desk to Viktor’s right and flipping excitedly through the pages. “This is obviously personal to them.”

“What? My private sketches that I never let anyone touch? No, go ahead,” You shrug your shoulders, unpacking your bag on Viktor’s other side. The knowing look in his eyes was making you twitch, so you refused to look at either of them.

“These are incredible, Y/N. Seriously, I’m floored,” Jayce gushes, passing the book over to Viktor.

You fight back the urge to throw Jayce’s lunch across the lab and sprint out, never to return. “It’s just drawings, Jayce.” You mutter through gritted teeth. This was like torture. There’s no way in hell they didn’t know you had a crush on the both of them by now.

“Don’t sell yourself short, now,” Viktor hums as he thumbs through the pages and stops at the one you did today. Through the messy bits of his hair that are constantly falling into his eyes, he looks up at you. Almost right through you, honestly. It’s like he can see through your act, the way you play unbothered when you’re nothing but a hot mess inside. His golden eyes are piercing from this close, and when he points back to the drawing, you’re almost relieved at the excuse to look anywhere else. “There’s obviously a lot of passion that goes into these, hm?”

“Stop fucking with me, Viktor,” You grit out, not even pretending to keep yourself busy with the lunches anymore. In your ears you can practically hear all the blood rushing to your head. It’s fucking with your head, you don’t know what Viktor’s up to and you just want the games to be over with. You’re so busy glaring daggers at Viktor that you don’t even notice that Jayce has shifted from his partner’s side to right behind you until he places a gentle hand on your waist.

“Fucking with you? I’ve done nothing of the sort,” Viktor hums. The corner of his mouth twitches up as you jump at Jayce’s touch, and you almost don’t hear him add, under his breath; “Not yet anyways…”

“We just wanted to thank you for all the lovely art work you’ve made of us,” Jayce’s voice comes from directly beside your ear, and you absentmindedly sway backwards. Leaning into where you can feel the heat coming off of him in waves. Good lord, does he always run this hot? You feel like you’re melting. “That ok? You gonna let us thank you?”

“I - well, I wouldn’t say no, but-” It felt like your head was spinning. Jayce was practically snug against your back at this point, Viktor smirking in front of you while watching you slowly lose composure. You try to gather yourself enough for a full sentence, “Wait, I’m sorry. I’m confused. You guys aren’t…weirded out?”

“Of course not,” Viktor assures you as he takes one of your hands and uses the desk to help push himself to his feet. “I like getting to see this side of you. For someone who spends all their time digging into other’s secrets, you aren’t very forthright.”

“Although I kind of wish you had felt comfortable enough to show us yourself. I’m sorry you grabbed the wrong notebook,” Jayce says, pressing a kiss to the top of your shoulder. An action that nearly wipes every thought from your brain clean. There’s absolutely no way this is actually happening. You’re half tempted to pinch yourself.

“I wanted to,” You blurt out, the words surprising you with how much conviction you put into them. Once they were out in the air, you found that you meant them. The words came out easier this time, “I just didn’t know how. Honestly, I just felt like an asshole for assuming you guys were a couple and didn’t want to make things awkward again.”

You can feel more than hear Jayce chuckling behind you. In response, Viktor shoots him a fond look over your shoulder. You’re more than a little bit lost when Viktor makes a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.

“Ehh, about that.”

“What. What?? Have you two been messing with me this entire time??” You try to turn around in Jayce’s hold, catching a glimpse of his red face before he turns you right back around.

“No, no! Nothing like that!” Jayce reassures you. Huffing and leaning back into where Jayce is standing sturdy and strong behind you, you raise an expectant eyebrow at Viktor. “We really were just friends when you asked if we were dating.”

“It’s just your little comment made the both of us realize we wanted something more than that,” Viktor is staring into your eyes again, although the golden hue’s less piercing this time. His eyes are full of intensity, but less like an interrogation this time and a bit more smug. Like everything was falling into place exactly how he wanted it to.

It took a large amount of restraint to hold back from yelling out a triumphant ‘I KNEW IT!!!’ Instead, you settled on “Oh? And where do I fit into all of this?”

Like a cat who got the canary, Viktor’s smirk widened. Apparently that had been just the right thing to say.

“Where you’ve been fitting in this entire time, my dear,” Viktor purrs, almost closing the gap between you two as he places his hand on your waist, opposite of Jayce’s.

“Right here next to us,” Jayce finishes Viktor’s thought, and you wonder if they rehearsed this beforehand. Not that you had much time to wonder after Jayce started placing a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up the side of your neck, effectively killing any and all brain function you had left.

Your head was still spinning but in some weird way you were growing used to it around your two muses. Fortunately, you’ve been growing fond of their brand of chaos. There wasn’t anybody else in all of Piltover or the Undercity that could leave you reeling like Viktor and Jayce. It was almost suffocating, the heat being generated from where you were stuck between the two of them, but you found yourself rather enjoying the feeling.