#arcane politics

[space-blue]

I'm so glad there are people discussing the politics of Arcane! It's something that bothered me too while watching. One thing I wish they had portrayed more fairly was Silco's time in power. I mean, we only get one montage of the more advanced industrialized Zaun with clean air stations, and only one mention of "Silco the Industrialist." Meanwhile his Shimmer business got episode upon episode of "look at how evil this is".

It even seems to be common for watchers to think he was ONLY doing Shimmer. So many people didn't pick up on the industrialization of Zaun, the cars and new machinery, nor the clean air stations. To the point that it's common to say he only destroyed Zaun and did nothing to improve it. I'm just like.... why did the show not put in more effort to portray both sides of the coin of Silco's operations, especially when his faction is the ONLY one specifically fighting for independence from their oppressors. Just seems like an odd choice.

I feel like Silco has more implied time in the way he talks to the chembarons. He makes it quite clear that HE brought them up here, and they're now corrupted by their time in the sun. And it's set in a gorgeous cultivair... So I think Silco making the Lanes wealthy is really undeniable. It's just that making crimelords wealthy is dodgy in itself, even if we assume that everyone got richer and better.

But honestly I want to say... People have a tendency of forgetting that Silco is a private individual. It's not his job to make people richer or to modernise the Undercity. It's not his responsibility to keep the streets clean or control crime.

That's the Council's.

The scene where Jayce looks in wonder/disgust at all the children in the shimmer factory always strikes me as a great moment for him. I've seen a lot of bad takes on it, making Silco EVIL for having kids working there and Jayce GOOD for feeling bad. Like, flashnews, Silco is providing them with stable income! Kids in his factories don't need to steal or prostitute themselves.

Wouldn't it be great though if they didn't have to work at all? No shit. Shall we ask the Council why there is ZERO social wellfare programs for such poor kids in Zaun?

Well, probably because when they don't work at Silco's, they work at Piltovan factories and mines for scraps. Because Piltovans don't have a normal relationship with Zaunites.

Silco is basically the head of a mafia, and he operates in a power vacuum left by Piltover. If the council took an active interest in the well being of Zaunites, if they weren't starved and beaten and killed point blank for wanting rights, there would be no need for Silco's dream, and no show.

I think even if the show made a greater effort to portray both sides, people would still vilify Silco, because "drugs" have such a demonic reputation. What bums me out more is that they made no effort to make separate chemicals, and ended up making shimmer into the philosopher's stone. WHY wouldn't you make shimmer??? It powers crazy cool engines, saves people from imminent death with no visible bad side effects, gives people a strength boost, and is a cool party drug?

Those are all things we're shown as well. It's so weird.

It really bums me out how Ekko talks about the horrors of shimmer, what it did to Zaun as it flooded the streets, and yet what we're shown is a camp of a dozen people, and a couple homeless people begging in the street when Heimer visits. As well as a violent fight.

Like... Yes? Zaun apparently has been the pits for generations. Is that truly the worst you have? A few addicts and 1 homeless beggar? As well as being "told" it affected families?

I totally get this is horrible, but we are shown a lot more screen time of shimmer being super OP when well used, and used for years without bad effects at that, via Sevika. It makes the criticism sort of moot, especially after one drop of shimmer saves Vi from a horrendous gut wound.

I highly doubt Silco invented poverty or addiction. The show makes it seem like those are his responsibility in equal measure because he commercializes shimmer (which is true) and because they need him as a villain. If shimmer is too good, then he'll become a straight up hero, instead of an anti-hero in villain clothing.

The show just wouldn't commit to have the third act fully go with 'the council are the villains, Silco is in the right', and I genuinely think it's because Riot is an American Company owned by a Chinese one, and that nobody up the foodchain really wants a story in which an underdog character is morally justified in exacting violence on the powerful.

It's my tinfoil hat theory. The hopeful tinfoil says that the writers did their best to give us that story but couldn't realise it fully. The dark tinfoil says that everyone involved is too far deep the neoliberal hellhole to escape centrist narratives (in which Ekko and his useless, powerless artsy rebels are the true heroes).

I'm happy to take the show as it is though, and fill in the blanks my way. I don't have to bend the canon's arm too much to tell a politically charged story that fits my desires!

#so sorry for taking so long to answer #arcane #arcane meta #silco #arcane silco #anon ask #arcane ask #arcane politics

[yelenaa-romanova]

Something I think has always struck me in a bad way is how the people of Piltover address Zaun throughout Arcane: the undercity. That word itself implies that Zaun and its people are less than Piltover. There are a few moments in which some council member acknowledges that the people "down there" are still Piltover's citizens and therefore should be governed (and maybe even protected) by the council, but never does anyone actually act accordingly. When Marcus tells Vander in act 1 he's just "a sad man in a little hole the world forgot to bury" that makes it pretty clear how most of Piltover see the Zaunites: street trash not worth their time that they'd like to forget about rather sooner than later because they're hindering their progress and global status. Throughout the entire series there are so many instances where we hear the words "the undercity", and every time it leaves me with a bad feeling of injustice and a little hatred. So it's not surprising that I started to sympathize with Silco's dream of "the nation of Zaun". Sure, his methods are wrong and he's a powerhungry crime lord, but can you actually blame him for wanting Zaun to be free of Piltover's suppression?

#once again arcane manages to address real world issues in a subtle yet obvious way #and I'm never getting over how good this show is #rewatching it again #arcane #arcane analysis #arcane textpost #arcane lol #arcane league of legends #piltover #zaun #arcane politics

[letters-to-rosie]

okay new Arcane fanfic hot take: if you're doing a modern AU and Ekko is just a normal guy with a normal job, that's not Ekko. that is just a guy. if he's not at least doing mutual aid or some shit on the side ion recognize him. if he's not tryna overthrow the government at least a little then what pray tell is the point????

#arcane #ekko #arcane ekko #fanfiction #this just my hot take #i'm right but you can take it or leave it #shitpost #but only kinda lmao #this is also my attempt to inspire more people to write modern radical ekko okay we need more #we need bright ideas in dark times #and his politics are so key to his character #fellow #timebomb #writers please weigh in lol (and by that i mean tell me i'm right bc i am)

[mollysunder]

Let's all ignore the political implications of RiotxArcane's Gilded universe and instead enjoy Ekko and Jinx attending the same gala!

Arcane! Give Jinx and Ekko fancier jackets!

Technically Jinx wasn't invited, and Ekko's hanging out/flirting in another room with his friends, but I like to think Ekko listed invited Jinx as a plus one. Ekko would do this with a complete understanding that Jinx would bring her goon squad to tear the place apart, and in a perfect world Ekko'd love it.

#arcane #jinx lol #ekko lol #league of legends #riotxarcane #i should really get around to write about the actual political implications of the gilded au and potential foreshadowing it has for arcane #c'mon riot stop making ekko be so comfortable with pilties #at least jinx is consistent

[seph-on-an-irrational-planet]

anybody got any Jayvik Divorce Era fic and/or fic recs where they don’t make up? I want enemies to enemies-that-fuck-and-beat-the-shit-out-of-each-other-because-of-irreconcilable-political-differences

#Jayvik #jayce talis #viktor arcane #*heavy czech accent* ‘Jayce you don’t understand. the material conditions in Zaun create this cycle of violence. #Piltover as a political entity can not be reformed and therefore must be destroyed in pursuit of the liberation of us all.’ #‘Viktor you called Caitlin a bastard’ #‘all enforcers *are* bastards’ #and then they kept hitting each other about it for the rest of time #Arcane

[literaryspinster]

I do believe that Black characters can be set up by the creative team to be disliked by the dominant audience, I’ve seen it, but if you’re applying that to every Black character with a complex personality then you’re skewing closer to respectability politics than thoughtful media criticism.

#lucas sinclair #mel medarda #my babies my loves #stranger things #arcane #i feel like i might get some disagreement about lucas especially but i'm ready to fight #if you want a Black character who just politely gets along with his white midwestern friends in the 1980s then you and i are different #he stands up for himself and speaks his mind and that's good actually #now i don't think he's treated perfectly by the show but white audiences not liking him isn't the problem #their affection for Black characters is extremely conditional #so if he were exactly the way they argued he should have been in s1 then they would have found something else to hate #and like if he'd still been the same way throughout the show and not just in the first few episodes then i'd probably agree #but the way i see it he was just being smart and showing more care for will than many of his other friends

[julietwiskey1]

I think Vi and Cassandra would not get along. I think Cassandra out of all of the people topside aside from Markus was most responsible if indirectly for her suffering. She could have been a councilor for long enough to have set the conditions for the bridge massacre.

But most of all I think she was a big reason why Grayson was so determined to bring someone in for Jayce apartment explosion and theft. If someone had dynamite in their apartment and it blew up in a robbery you blame the person who had the dynamite not the robbers. But I think Cassandra had a lot of incentive to move blame away from Jayce. After all she was the one paying for his research. She paid for the production of the explosives. So blame could quickly jump from Jayce to her. So it would be better for her if she could get the sheriff to pin the blame on anyone else.

I think if this ever came up in conversation it would solidify in VI’s mind how the council works and the kind of corruption that runs rampant in Piltover. They matter the most and the people of the undercity are expendable to their ends.

It would also force Caitlyn to consider the full extent of corruption. It isn’t just confined to the enforcers or even start there. But rather it starts all the way at the top and works it way down. And her mother is a very big player in directing that corruption and benefiting from it.

#vi arcane #cassandra kiramman #it would fit the story well too #like Silco loving jinx doesn’t mean he’s not awful #or that he doesn’t do terrible things for his goals #Cassandra loving Caitlyn doesn’t mean that she isn’t another corrupt councilor #let vi hate Piltover politics #arcane

[mandareeboo]

Shoutout to my boy Claggor for closing the door behind him, very polite boy indeed.

#Arcane #Arc02 #Claggor #I know it's to slow down the enforcers #But it is also very polite #Mandar Liveblogs

[insult-2-injury]

The Politics of Power - Chapter 3

Modern AU - Prof!Silco x GradStudentReader

The enigmatic Professor Silco takes you in as his student assistant. It's only one semester, just how hard could it be?

Chap 1 | Chap 2 | AO3 Link |

3.8k | Reader Insert | Eventual Smut | Slow Burn | Romance | Student/Teacher Relationship

Header by the wonderfully talented @pomegranatebat :)

Chapter 3

It had been three weeks.

You knew going in that the semester would be taxing, Professor Silco’s busy work in addition to your already immoderate classwork a challenge in itself.

You graded essays, tests, managed to teach a couple of his classes, met with students; everything you’d agreed to do over your numerous email correspondences and had been reaffirmed of on that first day.

You had been right, he was cantankerous; not old in age as much as old in manner, the stubborn refusal to adapt fully to the digital era spelled out in the piles of papers he laid on your desk each day to be graded by hand. The man owned a pricy laptop and was perfectly competent, could no doubt figure out how to move online if he so desired. He just didn’t want to.

It was who he was, you realized. A man who rejected change as if his very sanity depended on bowling through every expectation of him, flush with some rare sort of fire-eyed determination. Looked all the more as if he would burn the world over twice if it meant proving he was right.

And to the utmost misfortune of all those around him, he usually was.

Strange how you’d found you couldn’t get enough of it - something deliciously irate clawing wildly across the heated lining of your belly whenever that intelligence of his showed face. Whenever that tiny, sinister curl of his lips betrayed him, warning of an incoming putdown.

And he loved to put people in their place.

He rarely struck first but always had people marked, you’d noticed; was a cobra coiled delicately in the brush, waiting for his target to circle too close before he skewered into the only patch of exposed skin with precision and speed.

You he seemed to enjoy messing with most of all. You were certain, too, with your impregnable intuition that it had something, if not everything, to do with Vander. And if Vander and him were on the outs, then there was a chance he didn’t believe Vander wrote that glowing recommendation letter for you. So why had he hired you?

Not only that, but it was also the atypical errands you were running in conjunction with the usual work that had you speculating on whether or not he was punishing you, issuing you pointless tasks to waste what little time you had to yourself.

Once he’d had you pick up books for him at the library, a pain as the building was on the opposite side of campus. He had barely looked up when you’d piled them at the corner of his office desk, and you’d watched from your nook in the corner as they sat untouched, gathering a thin layer of dust before he bid you return them, unread. He’d had you draw out a lesson plan in detail only to scrap it last minute. Not to mention the two times he’d sent you down to the mail room to retrieve some expected parcel and you’d return empty-handed and sour, and he would chalk it up to simple oversight.

“Oh, don’t look so cross. I must have already grabbed it today, scatterbrained as I am. Simple mistake.”

But Professor Silco didn’t make mistakes.

Such small things were just innocent enough to pass over the head of a general observer, or perhaps to ascribe to a bout of forgetfulness. But out of a childhood of quiet instability grew a strong intuition, and you caught onto his scent quick.

It was late Friday, nearing the time that he’d normally force you to pack up, send you home for the weekend with a clipped word or two and a curt nod of his head. Your frustration felt a living, breathing thing today, prowling back and forth across your chest like a snarling tiger in captivity. A stack of ungraded essays sat before you, but it was hardly what you were focusing on.

Casual Friday. He wore a crisp black linen shirt, fitted snugly to his wiry frame, buttons fastened to the very top, only a slice of collarbone showing. The gold-cuffed sleeves were rolled up to his forearms as he worked. He wore pants of the same color; tailored herringbone trousers cut off just above the ankle, held at his waist by a black belt with a large, gold buckle. Glossy wingtip oxfords adorned his feet, which were crossed at the ankles.

His gaze darted up from above the hard brim of his glasses to snare your own and you stiffened, hotblooded embarrassment blooming in your chest as you swiftly looked away, hair falling blessedly to cover your expression.

It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d been caught.

Maddeningly, you’d found you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes off him for more than a few minutes, your gaze tracking unwittingly upward like clockwork, as if you and your fixation were attached to some sort of hypnotic pulley system.

Your phone buzzed and you hesitated before opening a text from your mom.

No hello. No how are you. Just a link guiding you to the University of Piltover’s Law School and a text.

Never too late to be a Piltie :)

Involuntarily, your hand clutched around the phone.

You felt the familiar sting, despite knowing there would be no payoff in attempting to please a mother who had never been satisfied with anything in her life. You could do just as she said: attend law school, become an affluent lawyer, but it still wouldn’t be enough. She would want you to be better. And there was always something better.

A prickling awareness hoisted you up from your internal strife and back into reality, your eyes ticking up from the pile of ungraded essays.

How could one ever get used to the shock of meeting that mismatched gaze? Invisible fingers gripped a tight fist of your lower abdomen.

“Yes?”

“You’re tapping your pen.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d scolded you on the matter – your aggravating little habits. Tapping your nails, bouncing your knee, chewing on your pen. Jitters only heightened by the presence of the other occupant of the room.

You turned back around, silent, unapologetic. Another minute passed.

“You’re drumming your nails.”

You hummed the affirmative.

“What has you distressed?”

“I’m not distressed.”

“You’re vibrating.”

“I’m breathing,” you said, becoming mildly annoyed by his persistence. You rolled your shoulders back. “Must have made the coffee strong today or something.”

The following long pause had your gaze flicking up once again to meet his narrowing one.

“So it was you then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the brute who wreaked havoc in the break room this morning?”

You blinked.

“If by ‘wreaking havoc’ you mean I made coffee, then yes.”

Professor Silco exhaled, falling back into the soft plush of his desk chair, fingers propping at his temple, as if he’d been thoroughly defeated, teal eye fluttering closed briefly.

“There I was wishing on the culprit an untimely demise,” he sighed, “And it was my own TA.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You do realize coffee is supposed to be a liquid, yes?”

“No one else seemed to have a problem with it,” you defended, but he remained unbothered, plucking the wire, rectangular frames off his face and taking his precious time searching the drawer beside for a cloth to clean them with.

“That’s because no one else was permitted the misfortune of tasting it after me.”

“You tossed the coffee I made for everyone?”

Professor Silco regarded you impassively beneath hooded lids, fingers languidly stroking the glass.

“And no doubt saved lives in the process.”

You scowled. “I’m not a barista.”

He adjusted the readers back on the bridge of his nose. “And thank goodness for that. Keep trying and you’ll make me a hero yet.”

There was something darkly amused twinkling in his eyes as he observed the annoyance tugging at the creases of your lips. But instead of allowing the moment to fade, he held it tight, and for each passing second, something pulled tauter between you as your own focus strayed, trailing to the long index finger ticking a light rhythm against his lower jaw.

Vander would be so disappointed in the way you held your tongue. Or would he? The man was a walking contradiction when it came to these things.

He loved to chant things like “Fortune favors the bold,” but the moment you dared shed that cloak of reticence and put a voice to that little flame in the pit of your stomach, you’d receive a look quite puzzling to you - one you thought spoke of an almost haunting, fearful recognition, as if for a blink of an eye he saw a ghost.

So, you just needed to keep your lid on and respect Vander for all he was - a brilliant professor and a good man, yet short-sighted.

Professor Silco shifted in his seat, crossing his legs. You thought, if it were possible, you could reach out and strum that humming connection in the air between the two of you.

You broke first, turning back to the subpar at best essay you’d been grading about the politics of warfare. And as the tension died, your thoughts drifted back to your mother.

Why couldn’t you be enough --No. You couldn’t afford to think that way. How could you ever be enough for a mother whose idea of success was an archaic set of rules, so rigid and stale, impossible to achieve.

You gnawed at the top of your pen as you stared out at the spined ridge of the Humanities building, etched with an eerie beauty against the backdrop of dusk.

Vander had so wanted you to follow in his sizeable footsteps; to mentor under him, become his little understudy. Take up that golden baton with his stamped seal of approval and climb the tallest mountain with it. He was trying. He knew where you came from. But he had his own visions for you and it was starting to feel like everyone had a pretty solid idea as to who you should be except for you.

“Do you plan on finishing tonight?” Professor Silco asked. “Or will I be forced to stay late once more on account of your musing.”

Your nose twitched in irritation as you stared out the window, contemplative before turning to him, the haughty way in which he regarded you down his nose enough to make your decision.

“Sorry, sir,” you said evenly, “I’ll be finished shortly.”

You got to work and didn’t look up until you were finished, until you’d offered nearly every student an extremely generous A.

Whatever game he was playing - if he wanted to clash at every turn, so be it.

~~~

The following Monday, you sat at your first department meeting staring so intently at the bulleted agenda in front of you that the dots began to blur together. You’d already given your little introduction speech, sighing internally when one of the more chipper professors insisted you simplify your existence down to your favorite extracurriculars and your favorite dessert.

Your gaze rose, the pen dangling in your fingers finding an absentminded home between your teeth as you watched Professor Silco lead the meeting, admiring his prowess. He wasn’t the type to open up the room, wasn’t a fan of your more Laissez-Faire approach of things.

No, he’d taken brutal hostage of the space as soon as he’d entered it, just as he always did in the classroom, a subtle but palpable hush falling as he’d prowled in like a lion on the hunt, lanky and unhurried, carrying with him a briefcase and a chilled breeze in his wake. He was in complete control at any given moment, his shoulders so taut it seemed a gale force wind couldn’t shake him. Cutting and often dismissive, but with a peculiar stroke of charisma and unmistakable competence that oddly softened the blow of his incivility.

He liked, no needed to be at the helm, that much was a given. He was stingy with his praise but positively reinforced just enough to make those below him covet those rare moments of graciousness. He was a master, a savant at wielding power to its highest effect.

And you couldn’t get enough of it, the thought of that vie for dominance sending a shock of heat slithering between your legs.

Only when he caught your eye did you realize the bite force you were impressing upon the poor pen in your mouth and you let up, tongue poking out distractedly against the top, expecting his gaze to float on. But it hung there for a moment too long, dropping to your lips almost imperceptibly before flickering away and immediately stealing another glance as he continued to speak, never breaking.

That terrible pull you felt to him - did he feel it, too?

Something dark and impulsive sunk its claws into your animal brain and delicately you pressed your lips to the side of the pen, almost as if in thought. His gaze immediately found your lips again and with a careful inexpression, you darted your tongue out lightning quick, licking a short stripe upward. Your thighs clenched just as his jaw did. And you wondered if you were the only one who heard that slight waver in his tone.

You whipped your head back to the paper in front of you, feeling dizzy suddenly as he started to close out the meeting, but the chime of your name had you jolting to attention minutes later. You stared wide-eyed at Professor Silco.

“I know you requested floor time at the end.”

You most certainly had not. You froze as chairs creaked and the full attention of the room turned upon you.

“Me?” you said stupidly, feeling a blush track across your cheeks. He allowed the moronic question to marinate in the hushed room.

“I just-“ you said, mind frantically throwing out nets to gather your wits. “Yes. I just wanted to say…” Professor Silco’s lip jerked cruelly. “Sorry- sorry, I’m not quite used to being on this side of things yet.” There was murmured laughter and you plastered what you hoped was a sheepish grin on your face. “All I wanted to say was thank you for allowing me to join you this semester. And Professor Silco,” you motioned to him, “I really appreciate the time you’ve taken thus far to accommodate me. I’m more than excited to work alongside every one of you. Thank you.”

What a load of crock, and you couldn’t appear more of a bootlicker if you tried, but it seemed to elicit a positive response.

Everybody filtering out slowly, Professor Silco scrutinized you quietly from the head of the table as you packed up, like you were some rare creature yet to be captured and studied. You stumbled in your haste to the door; grateful he didn’t call you back.

~~~

Fuck.

That had been so reckless to tempt the hands of fate like that. It was hardly anything, what you’d done; he could just as easily have not seen it at all, that brazen little tongue flick, his reaction just a making of your own imagination. And if he had seen it, well, it was nothing more than another one of your silly habits, chewing pens. But oh, had you felt it, and the feeling lingered yet, the dizzying headiness of that second glance, the tight, telling clench of his jaw.

You wanted to toy with that slice of power - couldn’t stop thinking about the way he commanded the room, how his fingers danced through the air like leaves on a breeze. His snakelike retaliation, your forced counterattack.

It had you squirming in your tiny office hours chair that day, the ache between your legs pulsing and persistent, no students showing face to offer any semblance of a distraction. Probably your own fault, tossing all those A’s out like free candy.

Office hours came to an end and you sat for a while longer, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm into the dappled desk as you contemplated.

How were you going to manage for an entire semester?

By dealing with it, sweaty and shamefaced in the privacy of your own apartment, that was how. Sighing, you made your way out of your office and down the hallway to Professor Silco’s.

Entering quietly, you hardly spared him a glance, taking a seat at your little desk and reaching for your paper tray, hand stilling when you found it empty.

“I’d hazard you’re looking for these,” Professor Silco said, lazily lifting the stack of ungraded essays. You swallowed the dryness from your throat before turning politely, fingers clasping in your lap to calm the nervous bounce of your leg. “I can give them to you.” He stood, grabbing the separate graded pile you’d laid on his desk last Friday in the other hand, giving you a pointed look. “Granted we brush up on the rubric again.”

A lazy saunter toward you might as well have been a sudden dead sprint with the paralyzing alarm you felt as he neared. A tall shadow fell across your seat and you became keenly aware of just how damp the fabric between your thighs really was and you crossed your legs, face heating as if you’d been entirely on display.

“I fear, despite our numerous correspondences predating your arrival here, you’ve already stopped pulling your fair share.” Your hands grew clammy, heart a clanging steel drum. “Did you not read these at all or have you always been so charitable?” You craned your neck up at him, hands dropping to frame the outsides of your thighs, mooring yourself. His eyebrow quirked. “A’s for everyone.”

“Not all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right. The long-winded atonement essay apologizing for not having had the time to complete said essay you gave a B+.”

Your eyes darted between his, trying to get a read. “I thought they all did a decent job.”

“Lies.” You opened your mouth in retort. “And I think you know that,” he purred and you nearly pitched forward from the shiver that danced coolly down your spine. “How is anyone supposed to hone their critical thinking skills when they’re rewarded for such drivel.”

“It was the first essay of the semester.”

“So you were doing them a favor?” You pressed your lips together. “Did you even read these?” He tossed both stacks of papers onto your desk.

“Yes.”

“I know. I saw.”

You studied him carefully. Then why accost you? “I’ll do better,” you murmured, gingerly taking the stack of papers.

“Speak up,” he commanded with a sharp tone, and you shot him a vicious glare.

“I hope you’re not cross with me,” you said before you could put a halt to your rashness, rearranging his own words steadily back to him, “Scatterbrained as I am, simple mistake.”

The irate furrow of his brow contradicted the tilt of his scarred lips, and for just a blink of a moment he looked terribly wicked as his features darkened.

His voice grew deceptively quiet. “I believe you dropped something earlier.”

He reached into his pants pocket and your eyes widened as he revealed the pen. You must have dropped it in your haste to leave earlier. Unwarranted confidence cracking, you went to go snatch it from his hands with a muttered thanks but he held tight, stepping forward until the narrowed toes of his oxfords were inches from your boots.

You were stock still, focus falling to the laces of his shoes before dragging back up to meet his shrewd gaze above you, his eyes glittering as bright and sharp as swords. He was so close – close enough you could stretch out your arm to run it across that shining brass buckle.

“Let go,” he coaxed, your tight-knuckled grip loosening on the pen until your hand hovered uselessly in the air. He offered you a tiny smirk of amusement.

“You know your Gods and monsters. Tell me, do you know of Proteus?”

Your free hand dropped to dig its fingers into your knee. Old man of the sea. Yes, yes of course you did, but you couldn’t free the words from your throat, trying in vain to speak as your jaw worked. You nearly choked when the pen in his hand found a starting point at the hinge of your jaw before dragging down the soft curve, descending beneath your chin to lever it upward in a slow nod.

“Smart girl, of course you do.”

A sharp burst of an exhale at the unexpected praise and he slid the pen across the smooth, sensitive curve of your jawbone – up to tickle beneath your earlobe then down to the point of your chin, swapping sides.

“Proteus’ power came from his ability to change shape at will, to be precisely what a moment required him to be. He knew all – past, present, future. The answers to life’s most poignant questions. Yet he answered to no one. Why is that?”

The capped pen traveled upward to settle briefly into the divot between your chin and bottom lip as he waited patiently for an answer, regarding you as a hawk would a mouse in the grass.

You worked your jaw, waiting for your throat to unstick before you spoke. “You had to capture him first.”

He hummed approvingly. “A difficult conquest. Whenever anyone would attempt to seize him, he could simply change form. Lion, butterfly, a serpent, he could become water to elude grasp. He was wise – knew which form to take in order to fool.”

You gazed up at him, utterly lost within the low timbre of his voice, every satin word slithering down to the growing, aching wetness between your thighs.

“Unless," he continued, "As you said, you captured him. Held him fast.” Your eyes fluttered as he slid the pen up to move around the border of your lips as he went on, tracing the two mountain peaks of your cupids bow lightly before swooping an arc around the bottom.

“If anyone succeeded, and only one ever did - he’d grant them profound insight, answer any questions they asked of him. Even the simplest of truths.”  The pen slid up to press against the plushness of your lips in the same gesture you’d performed earlier, effectively shushing you.

“Tell me. Who was it that wrote that letter?”

You dug your fingers painfully into your knee, mouth unconsciously parting against the pen as your eyes darted between his, the accusation fully in the open. And you weren't normally one to fight when the tides had turned so clearly against you, but a wicked excitement was growing steadily, a snaking suspicion gaining tread as his eyes glittered dangerously down on you from above. That he was enjoying this little game of yours.

So, with a tiny quirk of your lips, you finally answered.

“Vander.”

<3

Everyone PLEASE go check out this amazing art of Professor Silco that my darling @deny-the-issue did for this fic. I am losing my absolute marbles over it and they are so incredibly talented. Give them all the love! Fellow ratfolk, I hope you enjoyed! This chapter was a grueling one to write so please, if you feel so inclined - reblog, like, leave a comment or some nice tags. It really does mean the world to know people are enjoying.

Thank you to my wonderful beta readers @sherwood-forests and @x-amount-verbs for talking me through my anxieties surrounding this chapter and for the numerous others who put up with my chaos. I love you all so much and couldn't be more grateful for you.

Yours Truly, Sulty

Click here to be added to taglist!

@steponmesilco @truthandadare @silcoitus @pomegranatebat @rosegirl73 @givemebeansnow @soullessbody @yudunnomelmao @suelemrhoden @artwithvivien @silcossugarbabyy @tweek-tweak22 @lunaoticworld @deny-the-issue @gobletoffables @dogantlers @skidebapp @mazikomo @x-amount-verbs @sweatandwoe

#TPOP #the politics of power #silco #silco arcane #silco x reader #arcane #silco x you #reader insert #vander

[nadia-cannot-think-straight]

They are friends in my heart :)

#thirty something twinks of league with some weird ass yaoi going on #just on the opposite sides of a spectrum #Hwei would ask Viktor how to solve 12 x (2+6)^2 #And Viktor would ask Hwei to explain how paint magic works #in bonus he would get an extended ionian art history lesson whic he didn't ask for and he probablh doesn't care but listens to anyways #cuz hes a polite boy #i need them to meet asap #txt #leage of legends #arcane viktor #lukai hwei

[space-blue]

What do you think about Arcane's politics in general? Do you feel like it pulled its punches in depicting the council's cruelty against the undercity? Or that there was an imbalance in how topsiders' cruelty vs zaunites' cruelty were portrayed? Like, on one hand, they do explicitly show enforcers massacring rebels and abusing undercity citizens on orders from the council. Silco also mentions that topside had zaunites working in toxic mines with unbreathable air that literally clogged their throats, and apparently they were explicitly restricted from using the hexgates (as Silco had to demand it in a deal with Jayce) which is another way to keep them down.

But then we also get these moments where it feels like they pulled back a bit, such as dialogue that portrays topside's crimes as just "neglect" and "ignorance" instead of like. Active and malicious steps taken to brutally oppress people and carefully maintain that oppression. Understandably more screentime was given to characters like Heimerdinger and Jayce compared to other councillors, as they are game champions. But then we have this imbalance where most major topside characters are those who just "didn't know" and "weren't aware about how bad the oppression was", they simply needed to go down there and open their eyes and now they're graciously trying to do good.

Which is all well and good, but... what of the councillors who KNEW of the horrible conditions of zaun as they themselves worked to create them? All the oppressive legislation had to come from somewhere and someone right? The horrible mines Vander and Silco's generation endured, laws restricting them from the same economic privileges topside gets, and of course the murder of zaunites by enforcers, ordered directly by councillors. The last one in particular is strangely brushed under the rug in pivotal moments, like Vi entering a Councillor's home and just? Laying in bed? No disgust or anger that she's in the home of the same people who ordered her parents to be killed? She IS aware that enforcers' violence is sanctioned by the council right? As well as Ekko inviting Heimerdinger, the ex-ruler of the city, into his secret safe haven, no animosity at all, even though there was plenty aimed at Caitlyn.

I can understand they wanted an approach of every main character having shades of gray, and giving attention to councillors who intentionally took action to oppress zaun would cut into valuable screentime, and those straight up evil people are simply not the type of characters Arcane is interested in exploring. But maybe they still could have had zaunites react a bit more realistically towards these councillors, so it doesn't suddenly feel like they pulled their punches.

What are your thoughts on this?

Thank you Anon! First off I must say this is a fantastic ask, and I think you and I see eye to eye on most of this. Sorry for the delayed response, I didn't often have enough spoons to finish the reply.

I'm going to answer this as someone who has read the wiki broadly and knows almost nothing about the game lore and other game-only characters.

I think everything is Piltover's fault.

You have it correct in your depiction of the Zaun/Piltover divide, but I think you can go even further. Arcane is a story of intergenerational trauma, how it gets passed down like a curse... But this trauma is born from the violence of their situation, and that is entirely created by Piltover's oppression of Zaun.

The furthest back we see for our characters is Vander drowning Silco in the Pilt, full of chemicals that leave him disabled and disfigured. We know from dialogue and the show events that they were oppressed then, that they fought for liberation, and that Vander betrayed Silco and ended up having some (rather vague) power in Zaun.

The city is poluted. The people are struggling to rebel and gain independence... And our desperate characters turn violently on each other, setting the stage for the decades to come, with more death, more violence, more desperation.

That entire set up is due to Zaun being under the boot of Piltover. If Zaun were an independent nation, they could blame themselves for (most) of it. But they are a pretty dire depiction of colonialism instead. If Zaun was doing as well as Piltover, Silco would be a fine businessman, friendly, driven, maybe smitten with the gentle barman Vander, who only punches in his boxing classes.

The entire show depends on Piltover being the worst, and keeping Zaunites' heads under water.

They have deals to keep Zaunites away from Piltover, with Vander enforcing it. They have a complete hold on commerce with the bridges as chokepoints. They export all their polluting industry there. Clearly they control the wages, and the very solid glass ceiling of social advancement. Viktor, after all, is terribly aware that he'll never go further unless he breaks the rules. His Zaunite origins are a shackle.

I personally was very impressed with the show for going that way. But You got it. I think they wanted to have their cake and eat it. They made Piltover's oppression real and awful... I mean that shot of them ordering the city be choked further? Despite the Sheriff's protests?

And sure, Heimerdinger isn't in that picture, but he can't always be absent from Council asshole moments, since he's been on the Council from its inception.

In my humble opinion Heimerdinger is the biggest asshole of Arcane. Sits on the Council while it destroys Zaun for profit, ignores the political situation in favour of being a clueless arts and science enjoyer, out of touch with 99% of his constituents as he fails to perceive they live drastically different lives from him (or fails to understand why that matters, leading to Viktor's radicalization and Jayce's takeover).

But worst of all he crosses the river, realises how bad things are (probably has no idea too, because a trip to the seedy part of town would not reveal the depth of destitution and systematic abuse rampant there), and thinks he's 'not welcome' because his attempt at "fixing things" aren't welcomed. BRO, the only thing you tried to fix was making a girl smile with a TOUPEE MAGIC TRICK.

He's detatched from reality. He IMMEDIATELY gives up. It made me incredibly mad that Ekko was stripped of his identity and class consciousness to suck on his furry cock for The Joy Of Science. Like hell no. Heimerdinger needs to be put in a burlap bag and drowned in the Pilt for centuries of crime against humanity.

So yeah, they wanted to show a place in deep trouble due to oppression, but they also wanted some of the oppressors to be UwU blorbos who don't deserve hate because they try so hard and they actually have a kind heart... Just like with Cait and Vi's relationship, I feel like it's due to rushing things. The show is nearly perfect, but it sure could have used an extra episode, or since it already has a second season greenlit, could have kept councillors as Antagonists for longer. We understand asshole rich people. We could understand Heimer with his head in the sand and disconection to mortals. We could forgive a lot if they went through a proper arc. But making toupees and gushing about science with Ekko isn't character development.

I feel like the Firelights were shoehorned not for complexity or to show a divided Zaun, but to give the viewers 'good Zaunites' to root for, so they could switch Silco into a villain.

Sadly anyone with critical thinking will realise that Silco is the one who obtained freedom for Zaun (no matter if he squanders it as he dies), and the one who has been working hard to make it a richer place. It's not just the chembarons. Like the episode after the timeskip literally shows us a montage of this new Zaun. And sure shimmer is a part of it, but shimmer is also shown to be a GOOD thing in places, a FUN one in others, and it's far from being the only weird/amoral thing Zaunites use or indulge in. Silco isn't a morally good guy, but his goals are good for the whole of Zaun, and he's the one who gets what he wants in the end and could have ended the oppression he dedicated his entire life to fighting.

Meanwhile the Firelights are a haven against shimmer, but they're a ONE tree house worth of people. They have no plan for Zaun. They actively attack and hinder the one guy who'll ultimately win THEIR OWN FREEDOM. Yeah, it's divided, and that's great! I love all of it, except for shimmer's vagueness. But where the show fails, I think, is in trying to tell us that this is Good. That the Firelights are the morally Good Zaunites. Waiting in a treehouse, being an insular group that fights another gang to the death, being differentiated only in that they don't partake in the local drug... Is Good.

While making sacrifices, bad deals, using drug money, is Bad. Even if it came with political unity, and was the group that got the results, it's Bad.

They made a perfectly grey and subtle setup, and then instead of going 'there are many grey, even dark ways to be a hero for your people' — looking at both Silco and Ekko — they went white/black and 'also the freedom fighter is a bad guy, not a complex guy'.

Ekko doesn't have plans to free Zaunites. He thinks killing Silco will kill Shimmer, which is the reasoning of a child. If Silco dies, if all of Silco's gang dies, someone else will step in and pick up shimmer production. It's like toothpaste, you don't get to put it back in the tube.

Even if Silco took shimmer with him to the grave, all that Ekko would have achieved would be to leave Zaun at the mercy of power hungry chembarons, ready to split up again and enter a power struggle that would harm thousands of Zaunites under their rule.

Would Ekko care? Yes, I guess he would, but he won't be able to put all these poor Zaunites into cute tree houses, so fuck them I guess.

More importantly, would Ekko ever come to realise that killing Silco was a mistake? I don't think so, because Ekko got his brains scooped out to love on Heimerdinger. He lets a Councillor's daughter lecture him about violence, a day after 5 of his people were killed by Jinx.

Ekko is one of those characters that looks cool if you don't scratch the surface, but didn't have a real arc or a real character consistency. Unless we're truly to believe he's politically dumb enough to think Silco is a bigger evil than Heimerdinger and that life in Zaun is miserable because of Silco and not because of hundreds of years of oppression overseen by Heimer.

And that's indeed what we see, so oopsies I guess.

If Zaunites reacted more realistically to Councillors, Heimer would get a dressing down at best, and Cait would have an incredibly better arc with Vi, but the show would need one more episode at best, and more uncertain Season 1 endings for the Pilties.

I've rambled a lot and not sure I've really made a coherent answer... But this is what you get x'D sorry

#arcane #politics #meta #arcane meta #heimerdinger #silco #ekko #anon ask #thanks for the ask #long post

[binghe-malewife-goals]

Don't know what it is with people thinking because Jayce didn't complain hard enough that he didn't want to be a councilor means he wanted to be in a political position in the first place.

The argument is that Jayce is an adult man who can make decisions, which is very true! But we're talking about your city's government basically appointing you as a politician despite you clearly not wanting it. But you're scared to complain BECAUSE it is your city's government.

Jayce is a little peacock, he does unironically enjoy the spotlight and praise that comes from it. There is an allure to being in a position of power for that reason, but Jayce was not ready nor wanted any of the responsibilities that came with it.

I feel like we all forget that act 2-3 took place in a span of a couple days and that's literally how long Jayce was a councilor before he quit because he hated it.

#feeling very passionate about jayce sorry #im just tired of people assuming characters cant be manipulated if theyre adults #especially if that manipulation isnt super obvious to the audience #im not saying jayce was an oh so helpless damsel because he did make the choice to associate even further with politics #but like the council are politicians idk what you think politicians do besides manipulate but #once again just feeling. very strongly about jayce #jayce arcane #insert “if this character were female there would probably be a very different opinion on this situation”

[letters-to-rosie]

so a big part of my interest in media studies (and part of why I wanna teach it someday) is questioning how real-world categories and schema are imported into nonreal-world settings and how they are not.

there's the very obvious answer of "the audience lives in the real world, so that makes it easy for them." but then you read something like Ursula Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness, which takes place on a planet inhabited by beings who are normally sexless and get either set of sex organs during their mating period at random. and then you can, you know, question the arbitrariness of gender.

or you watch Arcane and real-world racial categories are eschewed for a racialization of a subaltern group that has been compared to what the English have historically done to the Irish. and then maybe you go "huh, is there a connection between economics and the production of race? and maybe race isn't a fixed category but something that can shift and change?" (or at least i HOPE you do i HOPE you do)

and there are the things that sometimes get questioned less in fiction. like why are there so many kingdoms? what about alternative political formations? it's not like every society in the history of the world was a kingdom before, like, 1800. if we can have aliens and dragons and magic and stretch our brains for that, we can stretch in the social/economic/political too. why do we have capitalism in those settings? in the real world, capitalism is the result of the way our history played out. but it's historically contingent. as are our concepts of race and gender.

so why does any of this matter? well, I think that it's very important that we deal with reification: the way things in our society are naturalized to us. if we want to change things, it helps to recognize them as arbitrary and not necessarily facts of life we must live with forever. as we can tell from current events, the ways the world is currently organized really sucks, so cultivating and then acting on that imagination is urgent.

#media analysis #ursula k. le guin #the left hand of drakness #is interesting because she got so interested in gender because #it was naturalized in her earlier writings #like okay we have a super cool magical world #why are gender politics the same #and so she explored that #in the case of #arcane #it's wild because it historically situates the financialization of the economy under neoliberalism (as we live it now) #but not the development of capitalism wholesale #because it's produced under capitalism #but it's a great to pull it apart and reveal the contingent nature of capitalism as well

[mollysunder]

Why Did Jinx Make Fishbones Look Like Finn?

You know, as much as Fishbones works as a touching homage to Silco, with its clever inclusion of Silco's visual motifs like his scarred eye and aquatic apex predator imagery. Fishbones also works as a subtle dunk on Finn.

Compared to the original canon, Arcane's Fishbones is more personalized to Jinx's history. So while Fishbones now captures a lot of Silco's style, Fishbones also gets a golden jaw, and only one person has that kind of prosthetic, Finn.

But then you'd have to wonder what makes Finn so special to include on this masterclass weapon that was Jinx's ultimate gift to Silco. These two chembarons couldn't be more different in style and motivation. They wouldn't be in the same room if they both didn't explicitly need something from the other. That's when I realized that in a technical level, Jinx and Finn serve the same purpose for Silco.

Jinx is a well known and feared agent for Silco that makes weapons and dishes out violence, she's practically a one woman army. While Finn's gang, the Slickjaws, operate as hired guns and weaponsmakers. Finn was probably so ready to undermine Jinx in the eyes of the other chembarons and Silco himself because she made Finn less relevant to Silco.

Finn could still be an important chembaron as his gang ran an lucrative industry in Zaun, but Silco never had to be completely dependent on Finn in his Shimmer operation because he had Jinx. And for a businessman like Finn, Jinx was practically working for free! So it's not like he could buy her out, or outright kill the boss's daughter. One, dumb move, and two, low chance for success.

This all begs the question, how deep did the rivalry and resentment run? Was it one-sided? Probably not, because Jinx isn't an idiot and knows when people don't like her. Jinx probably never killed Finn, one, because I'd doubt he ever talked about her the way he did to her face. Two, because she wouldn't outright disrupt an important business relationship for Silco, at least not until recently. But with Fishbones, that all changes, it's the pinnacle of her talents that far surpasses what others like him could do. Fishbones is not just an act of love and dedication, but a power statement against anyone who challenges her position. For Finn and the Slickjaws in general, she can easily replace them with whatever she chooses to make.

Alternate theory: Hell, maybe Silco had Jinx train under the Slickjaws, possibly in an apprenticeship like how Renni's son worked in Silco's factory. Renni's son was probably sent to study the alchemy of Shimmer production, he wore a mask like the original chemist in the Cannery did. And when Jinx proved to be incredibly talented in weapons-crafting and fighting, Silco likely made sure she stayed by his side. Finn could have resented that he lost out on a great asset that turned into competition.

#arcane #jinx arcane #finn arcane #silco arcane #maybe next season we'll see flashbacks of Finn just beefing with a younger jinx #the alt is intriguing tho #chembarons don't fully trust eachother but recognize the necessity of their heirs to understand the respective industries #which leads to a complex system of apprenticeships that can double as polite hostage situations #or just to wndear the next generation to the existing industries #who knows #arcane meta #arcane speculation #arcane headcanon #sort of

[vigilskeep]

having one of those idea generating nights sorry for just saying anything

#amell/anora. is that anything. #i heard that the queen and her arcane advisor kissed 👀 #also. having cousland thoughts again #sorry to be a hotd fan but we need to velaryonify eleanor cousland #ALSO. thinking abt cousland/nathaniel in worldstate where cousland and alistair are politically married. i think that would be crazy

[gorgynei]

no more personality tests. are you pro zaun independence or pro council reform

#by council reform i mean like. adding undercity ppl to the council and generally including the undercity a Lot More in topside stuff #and also enforcer reforms bc those guys suck #this is about hit fictional netflix show arcane and NOT real politics. just so you know. if u somehow live under a rock LMAO #anyways im pro zaun independence #ramblings #arcane