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stuckysimp · 6 months ago

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I'm like 8 years too late, but oh well - I've had this Captain America Civil War rant stuck in my head for a while and I need to get it out after re-watching it. (This is gonna be long af, but bear with me).

I feel like a lot of people missed the actual point and plot of the movie (and the marketing definitely didn't help). The whole "team cap vs team iron man" stuff becomes irrelevant after like the first 20 minutes of the movie. But of course, it's still quite a big part of the movie and I'd like to take a moment to explore what I think, the different character motivations are around why they signed or didn't (or would / wouldn't).

The only reason Tony "I successfully privatised world peace" Stark signed the accords in the first place anyway is because of his massive survivors guilt complex which we see triggered by the woman who approaches him at the end of his speech to the MIT students. Like this man does not give a single shit about the government, and much like Steve Rogers, he just wants to keep people safe. Unlike Steve, however, he doesn't trust himself to do so and thinks of himself needing the be kept in check, for someone else to take the blame (though he'd probably internalise it anyway, let's be real).

Rhodey has always kind of been more on the side of the government, even if that meant going against Tony - think Iron Patriot - so it makes sense that he'd want to sign. He understands that a group as powerful and dangerous as the Avengers needs to be kept in check, but what he doesn't understand are the risks around that. In a perfect world, it would be fine, but unfortunately government systems are stupid and corrupt.

Peter was only really in the fight in the first place because he was a child blindly following this big celebrity guy he idolised. He didn't know enough about the situation to properly analyse it, just being fed and believing whatever Tony told him (and he had no reason to go against him, so why would he? This was his shot, he's been chosen by THE Tony Stark to help). "Mr Stark said you'd say that" "he said you're wrong, you think you're right, that makes you dangerous." I 100% believe that if Peter had read the accords, that he would have been on Steve's side anyway.

Vision is an embodiment of 'good' and 'peace' - essentially everything that Ultron was supposed to be, but wasn't. He has no reason to be against the accords if it will keep people safe and he makes the point during their conversation of "our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict ... breeds catastrophe. Oversight ... oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand." It's also very much the beginning kind of puppy love between him and Wanda in this movie, meaning that he will want to protect her. No matter what. Even if it means "locking her in her room."

Nat was seriously one of the only people in this movie with a brain cell lol. I firmly believe that if the accords had been properly put in place, she would have followed them until she no longer thought the government's instructions were 'right' and would have gone against them anyway. Her main goal in this movie was trying to keep the Avengers, her family, together and ultimately do the 'right' thing.

T'challa didn't give one shit about the accords lmao, he's damn king. No, he was only there in the first place to take revenge on his father's death (which at the point of the airport fight scene he still thought it was Bucky's fault. He later discovers, after following Steve and Bucky to Siberia, that it's Zemo's, and locks him up).

Steve's concerns with the accords are valid, and honestly I wouldn't have signed them either. To be told "sign, retire, or get locked up" isn't really a big winner for me lol. And the thing is, Steve's done this. He fought in WW2, he got paraded around like some big hero while men died, and he did nothing. It wasn't until he went against orders, that he actually did something helpful (saved the captured 107th division in Azzano). So, no, he's not going to be side-lined when people out there need help. That's just not who he is.

Bucky had no part in the accords, and as soon as he got introduced into the movie, that plot point became irrelevant. He was framed by Zemo, and then used to rip the avengers apart. The accords was just another log to add to the fire at that point. He followed Steve because "till the end of the line" and all that. He literally, heartbreakingly, says "I don't know if I'm worth all this," but he follows anyway.

Scott, much like Peter, is kinda just happy to be there. He's following CAPTAIN FREAKING AMERICA into battle without hesitation. But like, let's be honest, given his whole movie and character, I very much doubt Scott would be on Tony's side if he had read the accords.

Clint got dragged out of freaking retirement for this shit, and he didn't actually get involved until after Team Cap already knew about Zemo. That's why he's there. Not because of the accords, but to help Steve get to the Quinjet to get to Siberia and stop Zemo before he can go through with his assumed plan to wake up the five super soldiers who'd been stashed there. (Of course, this isn't actually Zemo's plan, but we'll get back to that later).

Wanda is going through some serious self loathing during this movie, and the incident in Lagos doesn't help. Like at all. Ma girl just wants to live her life and be left alone at this point and she's getting all of these horrible things thrown into her face by Secretary Ross. She doesn't want to be controlled, she doesn't want to be a weapon, she wants to be free. "You locked me in my room." - Girl already probably hates Tony Stark due to her family being killed by one of his bombs and Ultron, so she's mad anyway.

Sam is on Steve's side from the start. With the accords, to fight Zemo, all of it. During the 'discussion' between him and Rhodey, he says "So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" He doesn't trust Secretary Ross, and is clearly hesitant to add his signature to the accords. (not that I blame him).

The main actual villain and 'plot' of the movie after the first part with the accords, was the whole thing with Zemo wanting to tear the Avengers apart to get revenge for his family dying in Sokovia. He takes advantage of the accords, and of Bucky / The Winter Soldier to do this but it's not really discussed which annoys me. It's a MAJOR part of the film, yet all I ever really see being discussed are the accords affecting the decisions of characters throughout the film with no consideration of the wider picture.

From when the UN meeting is blown up, the Avengers are being manipulated by Zemo working in the background throughout the film. He frames Bucky for murder, and Steve - who has been looking for Bucky for the past 2 years - goes after him like ‘tf man’. Bucky gets taken in and Zemo uses the opportunity to activate the Winter Soldier programming, learn about Hydra’s super soldier program, and of course - “Mission report. December 16, 1991.”

This leads to Bucky’s escape and attack, Steve and co going on the run, and eventually the airport fight. The meaning of this scene gets lost, I feel, when people relate it back to the accords because it’s not about that anymore. Not really, not for anyone. Especially not for Steve, or even for Tony.

Tony at this point, most definitely feels like his world is being torn apart. He’s losing control, he’s spiralling, and Steve just isn’t listening. He’s blinded by his anger to the bigger picture and he just wants to get a handle on the situation to deal with it further.

Steve’s forgotten all about the accords, his priority is keeping Bucky safe and stopping Zemo. He tries to tell Tony, tries to talk to him, but Tony isn’t listening either. I mean their whole interaction just before the fight shows this:

(the dialogue below has been condensed to show the key lines - basically I got rid of other characters talking irrelevantly)

Steve Rogers: Hear me out, Tony. That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.

Tony Stark: Anyway, Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?

Steve Rogers: You're after the wrong guy.

Tony Stark: Your judgment is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.

Steve Rogers: And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.

- later -

Tony Stark: And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep . . . I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.

Steve Rogers: You did that when you signed.

Tony Stark: Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW! Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys . . . with no compunction about being impolite. [Steve looks aside.] Come on.

Not to mention that Tony, after learning that Zemo impersonated and killed the actual doctor dude that was supposed to see Bucky whilst he was in confinement, he DISOBEYED the accords and Secretary Ross to go and help Steve stop what they thought at the time was the reactivation of the five super soldiers who'd been left in cryo freeze.

He follows Steve and Bucky to Siberia to help them, not to fight them. That only changes because of Zemo showing the footage of Bucky, WHILE UNDER BASICALLY MIND CONTROL, killing Tony’s parents.

In this scene, Tony 100% has every right to be angry. Unfortunately, he’s the kind of person who cannot see past his anger. He gets in his head, he spirals, and he tries to kill Bucky based on blind rage. (IT WASN’T BUCKY’S FAULT DAMMIT).

And yes, Steve was 100% in the wrong for not telling Tony. This whole scene could have been very easily avoided if Steve had just pulled Tony aside and had the difficult conversation about his parents death. Tony deserved to know, and Steve was only sparing himself pain by doing it. Dick move Steve, 0/10.

The fight between the three allows Zemo, having successfully completed his plan of eliminating the super soldiers and tearing the avengers apart, to slip away. With his work done, he tries to end his own life, but T’challa stops him and arrests him instead.

Steve and Tony’s fight was unnecessary, dramatic, and heart-breaking, and I’m very glad they managed to make up later, but ye. I think, at the end of the day, they’re all just dramatic idiots with communication issues lol.

Thank you for reading my long ass essay lmao, apparently I have a lot of feelings about this movie 😂

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tired-truffle · 23 days ago

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Even the Gods Cry For Us

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 5.7k

Part 13/17

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt (if anyone else would like to be tagged with future updates let me know!)

"Sometimes we don't want to heal because the pain is the last link to what we’ve lost." - J.M. Storm

Masterlist

“You have to be good at something.” Charlotte shook her head, sighing her exasperation.

“Evidently, my skills don’t lie in anything we’ve tried so far.” The tangled mess of knitting to your side taunted you. You must have been capable of doing some things back in your world. Why was it that when you’d come to Runeterra, you’d been unable to do most basic activities and chores with any sort of success? Had that been the price of having magic?

Seemed like a strange trade, but it wasn’t like you’d had much of a choice - nor would you have chosen any other option if it meant you didn’t get to meet Viktor.

“Charlotte,” you started, a thought occurring to you, entirely separate from the topic at hand, “why are they called “the Firelights’?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “I would imagine it has something to do with firelights, but given that I’m not a member, I haven’t a clue.”

That did very little to answer your question, so you pushed on. “What exactly is a firelight?”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at you. “Are you pulling my leg, girl? How could you not know what a firelight is? Greenish glowing butt bugs that fly around at night mostly, they’re everywhere.”

You had seen insects matching that description, but that still made little sense to you. “You mean fireflies?”

From the look Charlotte gave you, you would have thought you’d asked her to eat one of the supposed firelights. With a huff, she shook her head. “You say the darndest things sometimes.” She turned towards the next tent, seeing something that caught her eye, “You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

You’d barely had time to voice your confirmation when a clear container with one of your sparks floating idly around broke through your line of sight, two small hands grasping it on either side.

Blinking, you lowered your gaze until you came upon the proudly grinning face of the young girl you’d met on the way to Stillwater.

“Oh, hello,” you said with a smile, relief flooding through you and making your limbs weaken. You crouched down to her height and suppressed the waver in your voice. “I’m so happy to see you’re alright. Though I didn’t expect that you’d still have one of my sparks.”

You poked the container, the spark inside zipping around as it reacted to your touch. The girl grinned wider, her helmet flopping as he tilted her head to the side.

“Isha!” A girl called from behind you, and though you’d never met her in person before, you’d heard her speak in a vision and recognized the voice instantly; it belonged to Jinx. “What are you doing? You can’t just go running off like that. Get back here!”

Your vision blurred without warning, the world around you fading into a hazy orange glow.

Isha, unmistakable in her painted helmet and little blue braids, sprinted through a war-torn landscape. Smoke billowed from all directions, and the air was thick with the acetic scent of burning flesh. Her large boots slapped against blood-slicked ground as she dodged debris and fallen bodies. The spark container, now cracked and dirty, bounced on her hip.

You watched, helpless, as she darted between clashing soldiers. Their weapons clanged in bursts of crackling energy and sprays of crimson. Isha weaved through them with a desperate grace, her eyes wide with determination and fear.

For a fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of a circular structure in the distance, the ceiling blown out; this was the commune.

But before you could grasp any further details, you were launched back into your body, swaying as you adjusted to the difference in time.

Useless, as always. Warning you of things to come but not how to stop it. You clenched your fists at your side, exhaling shakily.

Isha stared up at you, her large eyes wide with wonder. It had been a long time since you’d had a vision in front of anyone who wasn’t Viktor, but you couldn’t blame her for being curious about your glowing eyes.

You cleared your throat and straightened, trying to shake off the lingering disorientation from the vision. The world around you seemed to snap back into focus, colours intensifying as your eyes readjusted. Isha still gazed up at you, her mouth slightly agape, the spark container clutched tightly to her chest.

Before you could say anything, a blur of vibrant colours rushed past you. Jinx skidded to a halt, her long, blue braids whipping around her torso as she grabbed Isha's hand. The older girl's chest heaved, clearly out of breath from chasing after Isha.

"Sorry about her," Jinx began, her words tumbling out in a rushed stream. "She's just so curious about everything, wouldn’t know a warf-rat was dangerous unless it bit her on the—"

Jinx's rambling apology cut off abruptly as her gaze met yours. Her eyes, a striking shade of pink - so similar to your own - narrowed suspiciously. The manic energy that had propelled her forward seemed to evaporate, replaced by a wary stillness that set your nerves on edge.

“Have I…seen you somewhere before? You look awfully familiar.”

“Oh, uh, probably not.” You had never been a good liar. “I just have one of those faces.”

She rocked back on her heels, her braids swaying as she eyed the floating sparks. “Think I’d remember a mage in the city that famously hates mages. Have you always had…these?”

She waved at the sparks, and Isha raised her container, shaking it for Jinx to see and blessedly diverting her attention, allowing you to avoid her question.

You watched as Jinx's eyes darted between you and the spark container, and you could almost taste the sour tang of her suspicion.

"Isha, give the lady her…thing back," Jinx said, her voice unnaturally slow and deliberate. Her eyes never left your face, searching for something - recognition, perhaps, or deceit.

"It's okay," you said quickly, holding up your hands in a display of innocence. "It's a gift. She can keep it."

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, surprising even yourself. But as you gazed at Isha's hopeful face, framed by those bright blue braids and the oversized helmet, you knew you couldn't bear to take it back. The spark inside the container seemed to pulse in agreement, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the child's round cheeks. Besides, you had plenty more of them, you could do with one less.

Jinx's eyebrows shot up. "A gift? You're just handing out magical…whatever-these-are to random kids?" She laughed, a sharp, disbelieving sound. "That's either really generous or really stupid. Maybe both."

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "It's harmless, I promise. Just a bit of light, really."

Jinx's eyes narrowed again, her gaze boring into you with an intensity that made you want to squirm. "Are you sure we haven't met before? There's something about you that's just so familiar."

Your heart raced, and you could feel a bead of sweat forming at the nape of your neck. You desperately wished for Viktor's steadying presence, his logical mind that could navigate these treacherous conversational waters. But he wasn't here, and you were left to flounder on your own.

"I-I don't think so," you stammered, cursing your inability to lie convincingly.

Jinx tilted her head, her long braids swaying like colourful pendulums. "Huh. Weird. Could've sworn I'd seen your face before. Maybe in a dream or something." She shrugged, her restless energy returning as quickly as it had vanished. "Ah, well. C'mon, Isha. Let's let the nice glowy lady get back to her glowing in peace."

Jinx started to turn away, then paused. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Word of advice, Sparkles. If you're gonna lie, at least try to make it believable. You're worse at it than a Piltie trying to blend in down here."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but before you could stammer out a response, Jinx was already moving. Isha waved goodbye from Jinx's side, the spark container clutched tightly in her other hand. You watched them disappear into the commune, your mind reeling from the encounter. The lingering image of your vision - Isha running through a battlefield that happened to be in your home - overlapped with the reality of her cheerful farewell.

And all it did was strike panic into your heart, with no way to stop that disaster from happening.

“Somehow, that doesn’t shock me.” You sighed, wiping your hand down your face. “Vander died but was revived and mutated into a feral wolf creature and now his adopted daughters have brought him to you to bring him back to himself.”

Viktor had filled you in, and you’d shared with him the contents of your vision of Isha. Worrying as it was, there wasn’t much that either of you could do about it except keep an eye out for trouble. If only you’d been able to get a better look at the soldiers, but with all that dust and carnage, you hadn’t been able to make out any identifying marks.

“That about sums it up, yes.” Viktor disconnected himself from the wires, floating down to stand beside you with quiet clacks as his feet touched the ground.

“And you think you can do that?” You’d encountered him that night at Stillwater, all feral rage and brutality, like a rabid dog unleashed on a burrow of bunnies.

He smiled, trailing his fingers down your cheeks. “I do, though I would greatly appreciate your assistance.”

“You…” you frowned, unsure what exactly he thought you could do, “want me to help?”

“I do.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand resting on your hip and tracing little circles through the fabric of your clothes. “You have the most experience with losing yourself beneath layers of pain and fear, and your ability to return my emotions has been extraordinary. You’re the perfect candidate.”

You snorted, but could do little to cover your blush when his face was so close to yours, watching you with an ardour that made your stomach ripple. “Flatterer.”

“Eh, it’s simply the truth.” He inched closer to you, and you tilted your chin up in response. But as your eyes fluttered closed, his lips ghosting over yours, you were rudely interrupted.

“Huh, didn’t expect the metal fortune cookie to have a girlfriend, but I guess everyone has a type.” Jinx leaned against the entryway, arms crossed lazily. “Don’t stop on my account, I’m curious about how this works.”

With an exasperated but tolerant sigh, Viktor stepped back. “You have a vast imagination, Jinx, I’m certain you could figure it out. But perhaps there are better uses for your time.” Jinx rolled her eyes and you coughed to cover your choke. Viktor’s eyes sparkled with mirth, and he continued, “Milá was just agreeing to aid me with Vander.”

You didn’t remember agreeing to anything, but best to present a united front, right?

“Hard to agree when you’ve got a tongue down your throat,” Jinx grumbled, and you resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose. “But how can a sparkly mage help anyway?”

“I’d have to see him first to really get a sense of what I could do. My magic is tied to emotions, so I could potentially connect to his, but my magic is still relatively new, I don’t have the best grasp of its potential,” you answered, stepping forward. “I’d only do it if you want me to try. He’s your father.”

Jinx pursed her lips, considering your words as her vibrant pink eyes darted about the floor. With a huff, she blew her bangs out from her face. “I’ll talk to Vi,” she said at last. “Isha likes you, so you can’t be all bad. I’ll make sure she knows.”

Without further ado, Jinx turned on her heel, sauntering away with a causal “Toodles!” tossed over her shoulder.

You watched Jinx's retreating form, her braids swaying with each step. As her footsteps faded, you turned back to Viktor.

"Well," you sighed, "that was…interesting."

Viktor's lips quirked into a small smile. "Indeed.” And without missing a beat, he added, “Shall we take a walk while we give the girls some time to debate our assistance?”

You took his offered hand, beaming at him. “I would love to.”

Your eyes were drawn to a massive shape hunched in the corner of the greenhouse. Vander - or what used to be Vander - crouched behind a row of leafy ferns. His fur was matted and dull, piercing eyes peering out from the foliage, wary and wild. A low growl rumbled from his throat as you entered. Compared to the last time you saw him, this was a vast improvement - the green of the tank on his back a much more pleasant colour than the vibrant red.

Vi stood protectively in front of him, her stance tense and ready for a fight. Her pink hair was dishevelled, dark circles around her eyes. She was every bit the fiery woman you’d heard her to be, you only wished your visions could have helped her before that haunted look soaked permanently into her features. Jinx lounged on a nearby rock, legs swinging, but her casual posture contradicted the sharpness in her gaze. Little Isha sat cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a semicircle of multicoloured pebbles she must have taken from the garden beds.

“So,” Vi kicked at the ground, her hands shoved in the pockets of her scuffed-up pants, “you’re the mage that wants to help Vander?”

“Mila,” you corrected gently, “much easier to say than all of that. But yes, I am.”

“Right,” Vi nodded, eyes darting to Jinx who was pretending not to pay attention, fiddling with the ends of her braids.

You shifted your stance, feeling the weight of Vi's scrutiny. Her eyes, exhausted and wary, bored into you. The greenhouse's humidity clung to your skin, making you acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming on the small of your back.

"So, how exactly does this magic of yours work?" Vi's voice was gruff, laced with skepticism.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "It's…complicated," you began, your gaze drifting to the sparks that danced around you. They pulsed gently as if encouraging you. "My magic is tied to emotions. It's like a bridge between hearts, I guess."

Vi's eyebrow arched, her lips pursing. "A bridge?"

"Yes," you nodded, warming to the metaphor. "I can sense emotions, sometimes even influence them. It's like reaching out and touching someone's soul, feeling what they feel. Though I’ve only done it a handful of times. It's recently only started to cooperate."

As you spoke, a spark drifted towards Isha. The little girl's eyes widened, her hand reaching out to touch it. The spark danced just beyond her fingertips, casting a soft blue glow on her face.

"I'm still learning," you admitted, watching the interaction and deciding it was best to be honest about your inexperience. "It's not an exact science so I can’t make any promises that it’ll make a difference."

Vi softened slightly, her eyes flickering to Vander's huddled form. "And you think this can help him?"

You nodded, trying to project more confidence than you felt. "If I could reach the part of him that's still him, beneath everything else, maybe - and I want to emphasize the maybe - I can help bring him back."

Vi chewed her lip, her gaze darting between you, Viktor, and Vander. The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustling of leaves and Vander's occasional growl. Even Jinx had stopped fidgeting, her sharp eyes fixed on her sister.

Finally, Vi's shoulders sagged. "Alright," she said. "You’re the healer,” she nodded her head at Viktor, “if you think it could work, well, we'll take all the help we can get."

A wave of relief washed over you, tinged with nervous anticipation. You prayed you wouldn't let them down, they’d had enough disappointment in their lives already.

With a reassuring nod from Viktor, you slowly made your way toward Vander, your heart hammering against your ribcage with each hesitant step.

Vander tracked your every movement. His massive form tensed as you drew near, muscles rippling beneath matted fur. A low, rumbling growl vibrated through the space, the hair at the nape of your neck standing on end.

When you were just a few feet away, you slowly lowered yourself to one knee. The cool stone seeped through your clothes, grounding you. You took a deep breath, inhaling the rich, earthy scent of the greenhouse. Your sparks danced around you, casting shifting patterns of light across Vander's fur.

"Hello, Vander," you said, barely above a whisper. You smiled, hoping to convey warmth and safety. "You've raised two incredible daughters. Strong, brave, and fiercely loyal. You must be so proud."

At the mention of his daughters, something flickered in Vander's eyes. The growl faded, replaced by a softer rumble. His massive head tilted slightly, regarding you with what might have been curiosity.

Encouraged, you continued, "They love you so much, and they haven’t given up on you. That speaks volumes about the father you were and still are."

Vander's posture relaxed slightly, his shoulders lowering from their defensive hunch. You could feel the shift in the air, the tension easing ever so slightly.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out with your magic. It unfurled from you like tendrils of light, invisible to the others but brilliant in your mind's eye. As your magic touched Vander, a surge of warring emotions crashed over you.

Pain, raw and searing, engulfed you and ripped you apart from the inside out. Your chest constricted, muscles tensing as you fought against the urge to scream. But beneath the physical agony lay a deeper, gnawing anguish that clawed at your insides, threatening to hollow you out.

Grief followed, a bottomless well of sorrow that drowned you. The sound of screams echoed in your ears and the weight of responsibility crushed down on broad shoulders.

You gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to breathe through the onslaught. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your hands trembling with the effort of maintaining the connection.

You pushed further, digging deeper. That couldn’t be all there was, there had to be something else beneath, something to keep him going. You felt it then. Love. Pure, fierce, unconditional love. Love for Vi and Jinx, burning bright and unfaltering. Love for Zaun - not just the place, but its people. Vander's pride in the resilience of the Undercity, his admiration for those who carved out lives amidst a sea of injustice.

But these were all just pieces of him, to truly sort through such a complex web… The strands of his emotions writhed and pulsed, each one lashing out to ensnare you. Fear coiled around your ankles like a skeletal hand while rage burned hot against your skin. Despair hung heavy in your lungs, thick and cloying, making it difficult to breathe. Echoes of explosions reverberated in your ears, punctuated by the heart-wrenching cries of children. Your vision blurred with tears - were they yours or Vander's? It was impossible to tell where you ended and he began.

You pulled back, gasping for air as if you'd been underwater. Your lungs burned, and your head spun with lingering echoes of Vander. Sweat trickled down your temples, and your hands shook as you pushed yourself to your feet.

"He’s all tangled up like barbed wire. It's a maze in there." You closed your eyes, trying to steady yourself as the world tilted around you. "But I think…I think I might be able to help unravel them. It could make it easier for Viktor to pry his consciousness out of the pain."

You’d seen that glimmer of love within him, and while it was surrounded by horror, there had to be some way to reach it and pull it out without ripping it to shreds.

Vi's eyes lit up with desperate hope, while Jinx leaned forward, her vibrant energy subdued. "You can do that?" Vi asked as though she was afraid of your answer.

You nodded, then immediately regretted it as a wave of dizziness washed over you. Viktor’s hand on your elbow steadied you, and you leaned into his touch. "Maybe," you amended, not wanting to give false hope. "It's not a guarantee, but it's a chance."

“A chance is better than what we had a day ago.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Viktor took the opportunity to cut in. "We will do everything we can to restore Vander," he said, his hand still steady on your elbow. "However, this process will require concentration and a calm environment."

Jinx snorted, twirling one of her braids around her finger. "Yeah, because this greenhouse is such a party central."

Viktor's lips twitched, suppressing a smile. "Nevertheless, Milá and I will need space to work. Perhaps you'd like to explore the commune? There are quite a few fascinating innovations I'm sure you'd appreciate."

Vi nodded, her gaze lingering on Vander, reluctant to part from him. "Right, yeah. We should…we should go." She turned to Jinx and Isha, gesturing towards the door.

Jinx hopped off her perch, stretching languidly. "Ooh, alone time with the boyfriend, huh?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows at you. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Jinx!" Vi hissed, glowering at Jinx. "This isn't the time for-"

"Relax, sis," Jinx laughed, slinging an arm around Vi's shoulders. "I'm just lightening the mood. Come on, let's go see what kind of trouble we can get into out there. Let the magic people do their magic thing."

As they left, Isha trailing behind them with her pebbles clutched in her tiny fists, you turned back to Vander. The massive creature watched you with wary eyes, but there was something else there now - a glimmer of recognition, perhaps even hope.

And you would hold onto that hope as hard as you could.

You spent the next several days immersed in Vander's tangled psyche. Each morning, you and Viktor settled into a rhythm - you'd reach out with your magic, creating a bridge of calm amidst the choppy waves and cries of Vander's emotions, while Viktor carefully probed at his consciousness.

The landscape of Vander's mind was a treacherous terrain. You navigated through dark caverns of despair, their walls slick with grief and mildew. Jagged peaks of rage jutted up suddenly, forcing you to climb hand over foot, your fingers bloodied by the time you reached the summit. Vast deserts of emptiness stretched as far as the eye could see, mirages of hope shimmering on the horizon only to vanish as you drew near.

But there were moments of beauty too. Oases of love, verdant and lush, where memories of Vi and Jinx as children played like a sweet melody. You lingered in these spaces, drawing strength from the pure joy that radiated from them.

As Viktor worked, you often had to soothe Vander. His emotions would flare up like a wounded animal, lashing out in fear and pain. You'd bundle him up in blankets of calm, whispering reassurances that echoed through the chambers of his mind. "It's okay," you'd murmur, your voice carrying the weight of conviction. "You're safe. We're here to help. Your daughters love you, remember that."

Sometimes, the intensity of it all overwhelmed you. You'd emerge from the trance gasping, your body drenched in sweat, trembling from the effort. Viktor would be there, his cool metal hand on your back, grounding you. "Take a moment," he'd say, his lilting voice a balm to your frayed nerves. "You're doing wonderfully."

As the days passed, you began to see progress. The tangled web of emotions began to loosen, threads of coherent thought weaving through the madness. Vander's growls grew less frequent, replaced by moments of lucidity where his eyes would focus, recognition flickering in their depths - and on the odd day, he would speak in short sentences.

You delved deeper and deeper into Vander's mind. The familiar landscape unfolded before you, but something new caught your attention - a pulsing thread of foreign feeling, steady and persistent.

Your curiosity sparked and you followed it, weaving through the intricate network of thoughts and emotions until you brushed against something unexpected - Viktor's presence. You hadn’t come into contact with him while buried deep in Vander’s psyche - as much as you had wanted to. This wasn’t about you and Viktor, this was about Vander. Yet you’d spent so much time moving within Vander’s emotions, wadding through his baser instincts, that they had started to rub off on you, and your ability to catch yourself before pursuing your desires was waning.

His essence was cool and precise, like the edge of a finely honed blade. But there, nestled at its core, was a swirling knot of guilt. It throbbed with a dull, aching constancy, weighing down Viktor's spirit like an anchor.

Pulling yourself towards it, you cradled the knot of guilt in your arms, finding it surprisingly heavy for something intangible. It pulsed against your chest, a living thing made of regret and sorrow. You curled around it, assuming a fetal position on the edge of Vander's mind, feeling the raw emotion seep into your core.

"Viktor," you whispered, your voice echoing through the mental landscape, "what is this?"

You sensed his spirit recoil, like a wounded animal shrinking from a helping hand. The cool precision of his essence wavered, uncertainty bleeding through. Viktor's spirit drifted closer, then further away, indecisive. You longed to reach out, to offer comfort, but the gulf between you felt insurmountable. Instead, you hugged the ball of guilt tighter, as if by shouldering Viktor's burden you could somehow ease his pain.

Slowly, reluctantly, you extricated yourself from Vander's mind. The physical world rushed back, a cacophony of sensations after the ethereal landscape you'd been navigating. You blinked, adjusting to the dim light of the greenhouse.

Vander lay on the ground, his massive form twitching slightly. His ears flicked irritably, the only outward sign that he was aware of your presence. You watched him for a moment, wondering how such a turbulent inner world could be contained in a seemingly peaceful exterior.

Viktor withdrew from Vander's mind with a sharp intake of breath, his multi-coloured eyes snapping open. He stared at you, his face carefully blank, but you could see the tension in the tightness of his jaw, the rigidness of his hands as he clasped them in his lap.

You stood cautiously, your legs wobbly from hours of sitting motionless. The small greenhouse felt thick and oppressive after the vast expanse of Vander's mind. Sweat collected on your forehead, and you wiped it away with a shaky hand. Viktor's gaze never wavered, following your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

You motioned for him to follow, not trusting yourself to speak. Your feet carried you deeper into the greenhouse, past rows of shimmering plants and budding flowers.

At last, you reached the bench tucked away in the furthest corner. You sat, patting the space beside you. Viktor hesitated, his body language screaming discomfort. After a long moment, he lowered himself onto the bench, perching on the edge as if ready to bolt at any second.

You tried not to think about the last time you'd sat here together, when playful banter had given way to heated touches and breathless sighs. The memory of his lips on your skin, his hands exploring every curve, almost derailing your thoughts. You shoved it aside, focusing on the tense line of Viktor's shoulders, the way his fingers drummed an anxious rhythm on his thigh.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead.

"Viktor," you began, your voice pitched low, "I felt something in there. Something that wasn't Vander's." You paused, searching for the right words. "It was you. Your guilt. It's eating you alive, isn't it?"

Panic flashed in his eyes before he schooled his gaze back into careful neutrality. "I don't know what you mean," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

He had always been rather obstinate about accepting help, but you hadn’t let that stop you from offering it before. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing your hand on his arm. "It's okay," you said. "You can talk to me. You’ve been there for me so many times, let me be here for you."

You watched as emotions warred across his face - fear, shame, longing. He was silent for several beats before he found his voice. "It's Sky," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I see her whenever I am…working." He laughed bitterly. "I know it's not truly her. It can't be. But…"

"But it feels real," you finished for him, well acquainted with how disorienting it can be to be unable to banish a vision you knew to be false.

Viktor nodded, his shoulders slumping. "She's a manifestation of my guilt. My failure. I should have protected her. I should not have been so reckless.”

You squeezed his arm gently, cutting off his spiral of self-recrimination. "You didn’t know that she’d come to the lab so late."

He shook his head vehemently. "You don't understand. If I had been more careful, if I had thought it through—"

“I don’t understand?” You hadn’t meant to cut him off, but you simply couldn’t get past those first three words. “Out of everyone else in this entire world, I may be the only other one who does understand.”

Viktor's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, then closed it again, words failing him. You watched as he struggled, his usual eloquence deserting him in the face of his own oversight.

"I…you're right," he managed. "I apologize. That was incredibly thoughtless of me."

The greenhouse fell silent, save for the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life outside. A bead of condensation rolled down a nearby leaf, catching the light and scattering it in a tiny rainbow. You focused on it, gathering your thoughts.

"It's okay," you said at last, your voice soft but steady. You turned to face Viktor fully, taking in the lines of exhaustion corroding his features, the way his shoulders hunched as if pressed beneath a mountain. "But you know you aren't alone in this, right? I miss her too."

The words hung in between you, fragile as spun glass. Viktor closed his eyes, his expression twisting with grief so raw it made your heart ache.

You reached out, your fingers intertwining with his. "Sky was like starlight. Brilliant and beautiful and gone too soon. But her light touched so many of us. We all carry a piece of her."

And above all else, you knew those words to be true, felt them resound in your soul.

"I’m afraid I did not know her as well as I should have. Will you tell me?" he asked, barely audible. "Tell me what you remember?"

Talking about Sky came as easily as rain did from heavy clouds - though it did not stop your heart from aching. You spoke of Sky's laughter, how it would bubble up from deep inside her, infectious and bright. You recalled the way she'd furrow her brow when concentrating, her tongue poking out just slightly. You described the feeling of her hugs, fierce and warm, as if she could pour all her love into you through that simple gesture.

As you talked, the tension slowly bled from Viktor's frame. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn't let go. His forehead smoothed out, and his breathing evened. You could almost see the weight lifting from his shoulders, shared between the two of you now.

When your words finally ran dry, a comfortable silence settled over you both. The greenhouse had grown darker, the setting sun painting the glass walls in shades of orange and pink. A cool breeze whispered through the leaves, carrying the scent of night-blooming flowers. You could have sworn you smelled her perfume, floral and clean, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

A memory surfaced, sharp and clear. That first night after Viktor had awoken from his Hexcore-induced slumber, when you'd thought you were hallucinating Sky's ghostly form. Viktor had seen her too. You'd been so caught up in the nervousness of being unwell while navigating the Undercity streets, you'd almost forgotten about that strange, shared moment.

"Wait," you said, sitting up straighter. "When we were walking here after we’d left your childhood house, I saw Sky, and you said you could see her too. I’d almost forgotten it, but…" You trailed off, watching Viktor's face carefully.

His eyes widened in recognition. "I remember," he said softly. "I thought it was a side effect of the Hexcore. Or that I was going mad." He let out a shaky breath. "I still don’t entirely know what it was, if I’m being candid.”

“That thing you carry isn’t Sky, I can feel that much.”

“That’s a relief, I would not wish to imprison her in my mind.”

"It's not her,” you reaffirmed. “But maybe it's a part of her. Something she left behind." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "What if it's not just guilt manifesting? What if it's a gift?"

Viktor's forehead pinched, his thick eyebrows bunching up. "A gift? How could my failure be a gift?"

"Not your failure," you said, shaking your head. "Her legacy. Her drive to help others and make a difference. Maybe she left that with you to carry on."

Viktor was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. When he spoke, his voice was thick and rough. "I never thought of it that way."

"You’re honouring her memory by helping others. That’s what she wanted above all else; for everyone to be given the tools they needed to thrive, to live peacefully and free from suffering." You leaned against him, wrapping your arm around his as you rested your head on his shoulder. “She’d be so proud of everything you’ve done.”

"She would be proud of you too," he said. "For all you've managed to overcome, the people you've helped."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as memories flooded your mind. Charlotte's joyful glow as she regaled you with tales of her daughter. Stillwater, where your shield had stood firm against the Vander’s attacks, saving those who’d have been shredded without it. And now Vander himself, his fractured psyche slowly knitting back together under your patient support.

“Yeah,” you smiled, small and bittersweet, “I guess she would be.”

Next Chapter

A/N: Missing my girl Sky :’(

Buckle up everyone, we are getting to the big stuff! Only 4 more chapters left...

#angst with a happy ending #fluff #eventual smut #machine herald viktor #viktor x you #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #no use of y/n #hurt/comfort #jinx arcane #vi arcane #vander #isha arcane #jinx and isha #mage #magic #visions

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