#but he would think shes just criticizing his decision making

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

More thoughts on Lucanis x Neve romance, from a Rookanis enjoyer, with love.

(Grab a snack. This is long.)

What I'll be focusing on in this post: Extra info and fun facts about Lucanis and Spite that I have gathered during my playthroughs. The consistency of Lucanis' writing between his romatic relationships with Rook and Neve. Addressing some criticism I've seen to be common. These are my thoughts and opinions.

As I said in my previous post about this topic, I enjoy seeing affectionate Lucanis from the external perspective, because it gives me more insight into his character. Of course, this isn't restricted to just romance, but that's what I want to focus on in this post. (It's too long as it is.) I also have to admit that I'm not exactly a Nevecanis shipper myself (not a big shipper in general), because I simply prefer romancing these characters myself, but I do think that it's a good thing that in my other playthroughs where I explore other options, besides my favourite, Lucanis has someone to make him happy, and I can personally think of nobody better for it than Neve, and Neve also deserves the world. I think it's good that they decided to pair some characters up, when unromanced, so that the group is more lively and doesn't feel like Rook's harem. Also, I tend to reblog whatever artwork of these characters that I like, regardless of whether I'm personally into the pairings or not, and regardless of whether they're possible in the game. Whatever you ship, we're good. As long as we're having fun. But that's beside the point of this post. I'm rambling already.

In my previous post, I ended my commentary with my thoughts about the dialogue cutscene that happens right after Inner Demons, where Rook finds Lucanis preparing dessert either for them or for Neve, depending on whether Rook romances him or not, and the similarities and differences of how each is handled and how each relationship develops until that point.

One thing that I didn't really touch upon is that if Rook saves Minrathous instead of Treviso, we don't get to do the Inner Demons quest, but we still get the dessert scene. So, only briefly. As most of us probably know by now, if Rook sacrifices Lucanis' home, they are cut off from his romance. Neve is not. I'm not going to delve deep into the nuance of that here. Suffice to say that Lucanis is in a vulnerable place after the Ossuary, almost a full year of physical and psychological torture, he's struggling for control of his own body with what most would consider a demon, he thinks his grandmother is dead. His abuser is still somewhere out there. He only has revenge, Treviso, and Illario left, and his cousin acts damn weird, on top of it all. If Rook makes the decision that also dooms his home, it understandably breaks his heart, even if he realizes that Rook is not to blame for what happened. He's lost pretty much everything at that point. (By the way, have you seen blighted Treviso? That place is utterly fucked. I don't think many people could process that in a healthy way.) Meanwhile Neve is in the same position as him when that choice occurs and is just as dependent on Rook's decision as he is. She is ultimately also not the one that makes the decision. It makes sense that he bonds with her over it rather than with Rook. (No, I don't care if you use a mod to make the romance happen anyway. Private mod use is none of my business.) I'm definitely not saying that one choice is better than the other, of couse. They're two different flavours of terrible. Neve is also hurt by the decision to sacrifice her home town, but she's also tragically used to struggling against the system alone and to people not showing up, and it feels like she still has at least something to hold onto. Minrathous is in terrible state and the future of the whole country looks grim, nobody knows what the consequences will be, but at the very least Dock Town stands. Hal is alive and selling treats. Some of the little people she cares about are still there. Neve's a different person with different problems to solve, and she can still find it in her heart to fall for Rook, which is amazing. But anyway...

---

What other sweet and interesting things have I learned from their romance?

Lucanis can recognize Rook by the sound of their footsteps.

We know that from walking in on him in Neve's office where he's alone, waiting for her.

Spite yells at him to talk to his sweetheart!

By saying, "Well, not just Spite," Lucanis is definitely referring to himself here. He wants to try and be more open about his feelings and Spite clearly tries to motivate him to be more proactive.

You can bet Spite yells at him to talk to Rook, as well.

Either way, we find out that Spite is supportive of Lucanis' relationship and even encourages him to act on his feelings. (Seriously, Lucanis beating around the bush must be so frustrating for a spirit of Determination.) I think that from this we can safely say that Spite also likes Neve. Enough to encourage Lucanis to court her.

Of course, we already know that Spite likes Rook a lot, and I imagine that most of us Rookanis lovers already headcanon Spite pestering Lucanis to express his feelings for Rook anyway. Or something similar. However, I don't think it's actually confirmed during a playthrough where Rook romances Lucanis. So, here, Spite canonicaly yells at Lucanis to woo his love interest.

A lot more yapping under the cut.

Once again, in this scene we see how Lucanis doesn't really have a lot of confidence in himself in this department. He keeps mentioning how he's not really good at sweet talk, which is very much in line with what he says during the previous scene where we catch him preparing the dessert before. In total, he says something to that effect at least 3 or 4 times in the game - that all he knows is knives and coffee, that he's not the charming type, that he isn't good with words, etc. (That's not what I personally think about him, but that's what he obviously thinks about himself.) He's not beating the wet cat allegations any time soon.

As I said in my previous post already, I noticed that some consider Lucanis' writing to be inconsistent between his romance with Rook and Neve. And we're all entitled to our opinions, of course. But I'd like to explain why I do not think that is true. Again, that is my perspective and my opinion.

There is one variable here that is not often taken into account here, and that is Rook. Well, two, actually. Because I think we also need to keep in mind that the scene where Lucanis' romance with Neve locks in happens quite some time after Inner Demons and the scene that occurs right afterwards where we catch Lucanis preparing the dessert. In that scene, he is still very much a wet cat, regardless of whether he's preparing the dessert to woo Rook or whether it's for Neve. (Not a bad thing to remember here is that falling for somebody seems to be rare enough for Lucanis, as he's never been in a relationship before, and he has already once before been rejected after trying to court somebody with a gift.)

First of all, if Rook is not present during the follow-up scene where the lock-in for Lucanis and Neve is supposed to happen, if the player for some reason decides to skip it, Lucanis does not express his interest to Neve and, tragically, may later regret this, should something happen to her. It makes sense that he would still have feelings for her, even if he never confessed. Love doesn't go away like that, just because you never put it into words. Also, I know this is a video game mechanic, but I still consider it part of his characterization that he needs his partner to either be very perceptive (like Rook during the scene after Inner Demons) or in this case get cornered a little to actually express his feelings in this complicated phase of his life. It makes sense when you look at how this scene plays out. Rook being there for the start of his romance with Neve is important - either it puts him a bit more at ease, or more on the spot, or a litte bit of both. Either way, it helps them work it out. (It also makes sense that it is Rook that basically spells it out to the player during the previous scene, after Inner Demons, that Lucanis has made a dessert specifically for them, if romanced, because they understand him and what he's trying to say, but the player may not, because Lucanis tends to deflect and put himself and his efforts down. He clearly has a lot of insecurity in this department and Rook is good at untangling it.)

As I also mentioned in my previous post, it's clear that when Lucanis made the first dessert, he clearly didn't express his feelings for Neve then, because... well, we get their romance lock-in here, in this scene, so much later. (I got this scene after Blood of Arlathan. That's pretty late in the game.) Neve also explicitly states that this is the second time he's made her favourite kind of pie.

With Rook, they figured it out and officially started dating on Lucanis' first try. (Or the first pie? Haha.) However, with Neve, this is his second attempt to express his feelings. This is one of the reasons why I think Lucanis' writing is consistent, and why I previously said that his romance with Neve may actually be slower than with Rook. They take longer to actually start dating and Lucanis is very much a wet cat all the way until this point.

And even in this scene, you can see that Lucanis drops the treat and coffee in Neve's office and is almost ready to evacuate again!

He just... keeps saying that.

That's so him. The Demon of Vyrantium, the legendary slayer of blood mages and Venatori, the master assassin, the demon-powered killing machine that made a near immortal eldrich horror bleed, on the verge of retreat... from his love interest, because he may know how to kill a man with his bare hands in a hundred different ways, but sweet talk? Nah, that's scary.

Except this time, Rook is there to provide emotional support (or peer pressure, haha). They already know all about his feelings for Neve. Especially if the Inner Demons quest occurs. And they can so tattle on him, if you so choose. Each of those options is pretty cute and/or funny.

No, I'm making you look great. You'll just have to trust me on this, Lucanis.

But most importantly, seeing Lucanis getting tangled in this situation, Neve finally says something. Either she finally figures it out, or more likely she just finally acknowledges it. She's a seasoned detective. She observes people all the time. Of course she would notice that he's trying to treat her special. However, from Neve's romance, we also know that she herself struggles with her own issues, namely with letting people close, so this is a significant step for her, as well. It makes sense that it takes them longer to bond, when Lucanis struggles to express his feelings and Neve tries to avoid catching feelings, or at least acting on them, for fear of things going wrong. And while Neve's bonding with Rook shows more of her internal struggle to let herself finally have something, we have to simply accept that the companions simply aren't and can't be as front as centre as the protagonist in such a game, so we can't delve into their inner workings as deeply in that case. (Funny, though, how I've never once seen anyone say that Neve's writing here is inconsistent. Almost as if it only matters when it's our Antivan male lover...) There are always going to be differences in how characters are handled in companion x companion romance vs protagonist x companion romance. Their romance is very much side content that's supposed to make them feel a little more real. It's also worth noting that Rook's lock-in scene with both Neve and Lucanis happens way earlier than this scene between them. But here, they both had a lot of time to let their feelings stew, so they can finally reach this point. However, Neve still warns him that she's not going to make his life easy. A light reference to what happens when you romance her with Rook.

I've seen some upset over the fact that we learn that Lucanis hangs out with Neve at night if he courts her, as if he doesn't with Rook. But we already know this from Lucanis' romance with Rook! Remember?

We know that Lucanis and Rook hang out together around midnight, as well! That's not new information, but I wanted to include it, because I do think (and will keep repeating that) Lucanis' writing is pretty consistent between the two romances. Lucanis loves to be around his partner. We know that from both his romances.

This is what he further says about Rook when romanced.

Which means that he will likely sit nearby like a content cat while Rook sorts out and reads their mail out loud for both of them or whatever. He doesn't care what they're up to. He wants to be there with them. It's implied that Rook and Lucanis read together. "Nearing midnight: Reading," only appears in that particular entry of his log book when he's romanced. They stay up at night to spend time together, as he also writes down in his log book. And it makes him happy, "just being around them", which you know not only from his words but also the tone of his voice when he talks about it in that banter.

Anyway. Because Neve finally acknowledges that Lucanis is clearly trying to spend time with her for a reason and admits that "maybe" she likes that (The woman also can't express her feelings to save her life, bless her.), Lucanis is pleasantly surprised (He says, "Really?" and sounds happily taken aback.) and responds warmly and enthusiastically afterwards, because of course he does. Because IS THIS SUCCESS??? LET'S GO! He gets giddy about it, and it's cute.

Neve.exe briefly stops working. Then tries to play it cool. Nothing to see here.

Encouraged by his unexpected success (He was almost about to run away!), he musters a bit of charm here, haha. From the coffee date with Rook early in the game and the scene where he almost kisses them when romanced, we know he has it in him, but at this point in the game he doesn't really seem to believe it himself. He repeats it over and over. He tells that to Emmrich at least twice. ("I don't know what [Rook] sees in me," is sort of a sad thing for him to say when you think about it, honestly, and when you look at his romance lock-in with Rook, it's a pattern. He doesn't believe he has much to offer.) He tells that to Rook when not romanced. He says it in this very scene. Yes, he's an adult. He knows what flirting is and what it entails. We all know he can pull it off. Whatever. But he clearly doesn't seem to believe that he can do it, or that he's good with words, and seems to be more comfortable expressing himself in other ways, especially at first. However, now that he knows that the person he cares for actually likes him back, too? Hell, yeah, he's unstoppable now. Heh, sort of anyway. When you think about it, his charm here and elsewhere, for most of the game actually, comes from him being earnest, not suave. Just him being himself. I think that's demonstrated on the couple of lines above. Telling Neve that she makes his life better and that he hopes he has more charm than this is not some killer move. It's just him being honest and enthusiastic after finding out she actually likes him back, and that ends up being sweeter and more charming than whatever flirt line anybody could possibly come up with. It also seems to me that once he knows that the affection is mutual, he does turn into a sweet talker, as we see on his later interactions with both Rook and Neve. But he does it in his own way.

Once again, it's important to remember that this happens quite late in the game. This is not the scene after the ordeal of Inner Demons where he prepares the first dessert, still rattled. This is possibly after all his quests have been resolved, his grandmother saved, etc. (For me, that is the case anyway.) This is why Lucanis' demeanor here is a bit more relaxed in general.

I do not think that means that his writing is inconsistent. We merely see another side of him under different circumstances.

---

Now, I'd also like to talk about some of the banters they have together afterwards, because there's some fun information there, and they're also what I've seen some complaints about.

To me, the "inconsistencies" boil down to interpretation. Simply put, it depends on whether you can imagine two adults spending quality time together without having sex.

If somebody likes to interpret the banters as Lucanis and Neve being that intimate, I think that's perfectly fine... unless they also get super upset about it and make it a whole problem. I think the banters are written in a way that let's you interpret them how you please, which in Lucanis' case is a great choice, in my opinion. As far as I'm concerned, they handled it well.

It's sort of what a lot of us do while romancing him with Rook, as well, because there's enough space left for interpretation. While Lucanis' dialogue cutscenes with Rook are mostly tame, there's also enough space for the player to headcanon whatever level of intimacy they please for the rest of the game, because there's nothing to confirm or deny that.

Personally, for my own playthrough, I like to imagine that Rook and Lucanis share those shy, fleeting touches Isabela mentions after they officially start dating, share their first kiss after Lucanis' last quest/outing, and slowly get more physically intimate overtime, but make love for the first time after Tearstone Island, like it is in the game. So, as far as I'm concerned, I already have this idea of (slowly) intensifying intimacy with time for Rook and Lucanis. That's how I personally like it, and I think that any other headcanon people come up with for their own playthrough that pleases them is great - whether they imagine that Lucanis and Rook don't get intimate at all until the bedscene happens in the game, or that they break his cot in the pantry the same evening they share the dessert, or something in between, or something else entirely. Is the note in his log book about them having a pleasant late night chat or did they cuddle? Something else? Up to you.

My point is, you can easily do the same thing with the romance between Lucanis and Neve, because the banters are so unspecific.

Let's look at the most cheeky ones I've found.

Neve: So you and Spite are friends now? Can't say my money was on that one. Lucanis: I would've lost that bet too. Neve: If it lets you sleep at night… Unless this clears the way for new and different midnight brooding. Lucanis: I wouldn't put it past me. Neve: Well, find me at midnight and we'll test the theory. Lucanis: (Chuckles)

What does this banter tell us? It tells us that they spend time together late at night. But we already know that! From their romance lock-in scene. ("You find me at midnight just to talk.") I think this banter is a reference to that. How you imagine they spend that time, that's entirely up to you. If you imagine they're fucking their brains out, and you like that, cool! If you imagine they're sitting side by side, having a pleasant time, looking through Neve's case notes, and you like that, cool. If you think they're just starting to get physically intimate, cool. Because the banter does not say.

Taash: Hey, Lucanis. Lucanis: Yes? Taash: You and Neve? Lucanis: Yes. Taash: Nice catch. Lucanis: Thanks.

He's just as cagey as he is when Taash talks to him about Rook, by the way. It continues...

Taash: And Spite's good with her? Lucanis (Spite): No talking. When. Her hat comes off. Go play with wisps. Taash: 'Kay.

This one made me laugh.

But what does it actually mean? It tells us that Lucanis sets some boundaries with Spite. He's in love. He's in a relationship now. Of course he at the very least thinks about the possibility of getting intimate.

This can again be interpreted as Lucanis and Neve already being intimate in some way. Which also doesn't necessarily mean all the way - I swear that sometimes, it seems to me that people forget that cuddling and making out and other non-sexual forms of intimacy exist. Or it could mean that Lucanis has simply considered that this is where he wants the relationship to go sooner or later, and so he's told Spite, "Hey, if this situation occurs, be quiet and give us some space." This one definitely sounds more spicy and it shows that Lucanis obviously thinks about these things, but more than anything it shows that he asks Spite to give him privacy. Again, I feel like this is up to the player and what they want it to be.

I would also like to disagree with the narrative I have seen somewhere before that Neve rejects Spite. That's not the impression I've got from the game at all. I've never once caught Neve having a problem with Spite when she and Lucanis are in a relationship. (Though I don't yet know what happens during their romance when Minrathous is saved, because that's where I'm currently romancing Neve myself, but even then I haven't really seen her say anything that would suggest that she has a problem with Spite.) Most importantly, Spite clearly likes Neve. He even suggests that Lucanis should bring her flowers from Lavendel, which is adorable.

Seriously, his romance with Neve makes it almost seem that Spite is more competent at wooing somebody than Lucanis is sometimes, which is just so funny. This little guy, trapped in a world utterly alien to him, barely understands what feet are, but he knows you bring people flowers to show affection. I love him so much. While Lucanis' reaction shows he's probably never had an example of a healthy relationship of any kind for reference in his entire life. (Actually, from his reaction it seems to me that he perhaps simply doesn't yet know if Neve even likes flowers as a gift. Insufficient data.)

Either way, I think that when Lucanis loves Neve, Spite loves her, as well. It's not Neve who sends him away to have more privacy. It's Lucanis.

"BUT I WANT LUCANIS TO GET FLOWERS FOR ROOK, AS WELL!" Look at me. Listen to me. You give that man some damn flowers. He cooks for Rook. He prepares sweet treats for them. He invites them for coffee dates. He makes coffee or hot chocolate for them, and even though he himself doesn't even like tea, he makes sure it's in the Lighthouse for them. He would kill for them. You give the man flowers. Or rather, I'll tell you what to do: You go to Treviso, visit Fletcher, and buy that fancy tea (coffee) set for Lucanis after you lock his romance in, and you'll get that little cutscene where Rook gives it to him. Enjoy his romanced response. Call me crazy, but I think that's sweeter and more satisfying than the one line where Spite has to suggest giving flowers to Neve to him and Lucanis reacts like he's not even sure that's a good idea, haha. It's something wholesome and more normal that Rook can do for him to express their affection for a change, besides standing by his side through his struggles. But anyway.

Maybe it's because I like to imagine (my) Rook and Lucanis getting intimate at that point in the game, as well, and/or because I don't think that when two adults are alone in a room together, it necessarily means that they have to immediately get naked, those banters don't bother me, nor does it seem to me like the writing is inconsistent, especially because of how open to interpretation it is. If you leave your own assumptions out of it, the banters really don't say that much. They confirm for us that Lucanis has spicy thoughts, which I personally think is cute, and which I'm also pretty sure is already part of many people's headcanon for their Rook x Lucanis playthroughs anyway. They confirm for us that Lucanis enjoys spending time with his lover. And that he tries to communicate his boundaries to Spite.

I think it's also important to realize that these are two companion characters and we don't actually get any other romance scenes between them than the one described above, so they had to give their relationship some depth pretty much exclusively through banters and some rare mention here and there, just like they do it with Taash and Harding. (By the way, I also haven't seen anyone say anything about any possible inconsistencies with Taash and Harding, either.)

From the other banters, we find out that Lucanis asks Neve what her favourite dish is, and after she tells him, he promises to try and prepare something like that for her.

Lucanis: Neve, do you have a favourite food? Neve: Whatever you're cooking. Lucanis: There must be something. Neve: I might have a weakness for seafood and candlelight. Lucanis: I'll see what I can do.

He's clearly willing to learn and actively puts effort into his relationship. That's a trait that definitely also applies to his relationship with Rook. We know that because he remembers their favourite drink, makes sure it's stocked in the Lighthouse, and later prepares a matching treat. (He may even ask Emmrich for a recipe.) His love language clearly is food and quality time together. (And stabbing people for his lover, as is particularly clear from his romance with Rook.) That's how he seems to be most comfortable showing affection.

He also tells Neve that, during the Inner Demons quest, she was there to "sort of" help guide Rook through his mental prison. Neve tries to be cool about it and again ceases to function when he's earnest about it, which is always funny (and understandable).

Lucanis: Neve. In the Fade with Rook and Spite... you were there. I mean, not you, but... you know what I mean. You helped Rook. Sort of. Neve: Sort of? Well, isn't that flattering. At least I'm on your mind. Lucanis: You are. And not just then. Neve: I... oh. Well, then.

And he says he's not good with words.

Neve: I need to go through my notes later. See what the Shadows might find useful. Lucanis: Need company? Neve: No. But I'd love yours all the same. Lucanis: Then I'm yours.

Again, they talk about spending time together. That's definitely his thing. Lucanis also gives Neve similar "I'm yours," that he gives Rook. When you visit him in the pantry, he may say to Rook: "Did you need me? I'm yours." It couldn't be more clear that he's ready to be wherever Rook is, regardless of what they're doing, as well.

Also, a version of this banter exists before Lucanis and Neve start dating and possibly before dealing with Aelia. More casual, but similar vibe.

Lucanis: You don't sleep much, do you? Neve: More than you, but little enough. Still looking over everything on Aelia. Lucanis: If you need fresh eyes, I'm awake anyway. Neve: Maybe. If you don't mind the company. It comes with wisps. Lucanis: Wisps are nothing. Besides, you're better company than Spite. Neve: Really? Rumour has it I'm a pain in the ass. But that's if you ask Tarquin.

I think that's what Neve references when she says, "You find me at midnight just to talk."

All in all, the banters between Lucanis and Neve, and with a couple of other companions, during their romance simply hint at them having a loving relationship and spending quality time together. Consider that they had to squeeze their whole relationship into a few lines of banter and an occasional mention in dialogue and somehow make it believable, because unlike Rook and Lucanis, they don't have whole quests, outings, and many other interactions inside and outside of the Lighthouse, to develop their relationship.

Lucanis' relationship is definitely flavoured by his partner, whether it is Rook or Neve, and it's good that it's not completely the same for both couples, because they're different individuals, but I also don't really find any actual inconsistencies in their characterization between them.

I do agree that some of these interactions are super sweet and I would absolutely love it if we had some more of them between Rook and Lucanis and the other companions, because honestly I could easily listen to a hundred more, but it's also necessary to acknowledge that Lucanis and Neve are two companion characters and the few banters, one short cutscene, and a rare mention here and there, are all they get. And I think it's perfectly sufficient for them as NPCs. The interactions are lovely. They're clearly good for each other. But I also don't think they're actually getting anything extra in comparison with Rook, and I'm just honestly a bit baffled by the noise about it.

Rook as the protagonist has great chemistry and dynamic with Lucanis from the very beginning, thoughout the whole game, as I already to some extent described in my previous post. This post is already way too long without me getting too much into it here. But Rook has the benefit of being able to do Lucanis' quests, go on outings with him, be there for him during all the important moments (e.g. his grandma's funeral arrangements), have various interactions in the Lighthouse (e.g. Lucanis attempts to kiss them way before the dessert scene comes up) and outside of it. The Inner Demons quest is, in my opinion, the most intimate thing ever while doing his romance. They have banter together and with the other companions about their relationship and other things. We know they spend quality time together. Besides travelling everywhere side by side outside of the Lighthouse so often, they get together late at night, read together, are coffee buddies (or whatever drink you've chosen). Lucanis insists that Rook stay and tell stories while they drink with Davrin, wanting to hear a story from their life that he's already heard from others before, just because he thinks nobody tells it as well as Rook. I don't think that loses its meaning just because it's also a friendly interaction. Lucanis writes into his log book about them. He yells at Illario when he injures them. Etc. Etc. I really don't think there's any reason to hate on Neve, be jelly, or argue which relationship is more "canon". (For fuck's sake.)

Not to be patronizing or anything, but we, as a fandom, do remember what canon is, right? As in, actually established facts about the setting. As in, humans, elves, dwarves, and qunari are the races populating Thedas. Alistair Theirin was at the Battle of Ostagar. Magic and dragons exist. Treviso is in Antiva. Then there's personal "canon" that we each create for ourselves and those are wildly different. (And that's great about them!) For some, that means that e.g. the Hero of Ferelden died killing the Archdemon. Or that Hawke sided with the mages. Or that the Inquisitor exiled the Wardens. Or that Rook tricked Solas. Romances and optional relationships between NPCs fall into the category of personal "canon". Let's not forget that. It's so stupid to argue about which relationship is more legit when it literally depends on the player's choice. This is a reminder aimed especially at the part of the fandom crying that Neve's romance with Lucanis somehow invalidates Rook's romance with him.

As for them reusing small bits of Lucanis' romance scenes with Rook for his romance with Neve. Mostly this just means that he mentions her in like... two dialogues, maybe. It doesn't bother me, because to me that is the smart move, because it saved them time that they could invest into something else, probably more significant. I think it would bother me way more if they actually put unnecessary time into creating a lot extra content for them when I could have it instead. Maybe it's just me, but I don't think it takes anything away from Lucanis' romance, because his romance and dynamic with Rook, overall, is delightful and consists of so much more than one short cutscene and a couple of lines.

Again, I'm not here to argue with anyone. Mostly, I think. I'm here to offer my perspective and also information for those who haven't seen Lucanis x Neve for themselves, don't have time for multiple playthroughs, or whatever, but are interested and/or want to know more about Lucanis for their headcanon.

Now, I'm going to end this rambling here, otherwise I'll keep adding to it forever. Pardon any mistakes or nonsense, I can't bear to read this all again, haha. If you've read all the way here, thank you so much for putting up with my bullshit. That's crazy.

[museincarnate]

Once the Little Rabbit had finally managed to begin her process of healing her dear friend's opposition, and while the interview between Hakkona and King Opart had begun, it would take a few more moments until the Rebel began to regain his consciousness; pained groans preceding his eyes slowly opening, and falling upon the Lagomorph's form. Between being rendered knocked out and reawakening, only a minute or two had passed, but for him... It felt like only a few seconds had passed. From how he awoke, though, he quickly pieced together what had happened; a frown etching itself on his features for a moment.

"You're that Earth girl from before, aren't you?" When he spoke condescendingly before, and never really talked to Tater prior to this moment, his tone seemed almost... Humble, and devoid of arrogance. Even if the Lagomorph was paying attention to the ongoing interview between the Buff Gal and the King, Lirocco still decided to speak to the woman healing him. "I don't know what good healing me is going to do, if King Opart or Hakkona decide to imprison me for attempted treason, but thanks... I guess." Unaware of why Tater was even helping him to begin with, it seemed as though he had a ways to go, before his mental faculties were fully recovered from being knocked out by Hakkona... Even if the decisive blow wasn't a shot to the head.

The Would-Have-Been Usurper would silence himself, however, as even he seemed curious about the interview's topic, once a question had been posed to the Heiress, while anything Tater said to him could've likely been addressed after the fact. Lirocco wore a look of disappointment, shock and concern mixed together as he woke up more, while his gaze shifted from the Little Rabbit to Hakkona. As for Hakkona...

The Daughter of Torno needed only a second or two more, to consider her answer, as her gaze noticeably shifted from her uncle, to the other Royals in attendance; eventually coming to settle upon Tater and Lirocco for just a moment, before then looking back to her uncle. Hakkona would bring her forearm to her face, and wipe the blood from just above her upper lip, before casually spitting out what bit of blood was still filling her mouth after such a hard-hitting battle. Sure, royalty was expected to conduct themselves professionally, but this was her moment. The Buff Gal almost seemed to purposefully set herself apart from her royal lineage, if not to drive the point home that she was special, and damn proud of it.

"Fuck the critics."

Paragu, Scallia and Chylli had their share of immediate reactions to the rather crass, albeit deserved statement, as the Chief and Empress seemed to crack a smile each, while Scallia cheered rather proudly for the Mighty Saiyaness. Chylli, meanwhile, pursed her lips and offered a nod of acknowledgement, as she privately owned up to what she'd said at the start of the emergency council that allowed Tater to meet the Royals in the first place. Even if it was a jest, it was still critical about Hakkona. The crowd, meanwhile, almost erupted into cheers and applause again; keeping themselves under control, as Opart had requested. Even he couldn't help but grin, though he certainly wasn't expecting that answer!

The Rebel, on the other hand, averted his gaze from the Buff Gal, and instead focused on the Lagomorph again. He was aware that she didn't like him, and yet there she was... Tending to his injuries. "So... Before they decide my fate, be honest. What does an outsider like you think I deserve, after everything I tried to do? I can't imagine they'd make it a public display or announce it, so I guess I'm just... Coming to terms with the idea that this might be my last few minutes of freedom." And yet... Lirocco sounded like he wasn't going to fight against such an idea.

Even as she could just barely hear the sounds of the Little Rabbit's feet swiftly approaching, beneath the sounds of applause and cheers from the spectators in attendance, the Heiress's gaze was so slow to shift towards the direction of where her finger had previously been pointing; Hakkona's frame of mind rather unstable, as she tried to register just what she'd done, and what was real around her. Having to see a manifestation of Ghost again, and next to Lirocco... It made her feel something that she couldn't quite put into words.

Though, the feeling of blood still filling her mouth, albeit less than before, and the slowing of her bloody nose's outpour of the same bodily fluid, would keep her grounded enough in reality to not outright lose herself in her thoughts. Little, soft hands from a familiar face would come to take the Buff Gal's own face between themselves, while a soft sway of Hakkona's tail would initially indicate that she was happy to see Tater... Even if she needed a moment to come down from the adrenaline running through her entire body. "Sure did, Tater!" Thankfully, she wasn't swallowing mouthfuls of her own blood to sound too slurred in her speech, or otherwise in poor condition, but it was obvious that Torno's daughter could've been better.

When asked to show the Lagomorph where she was hurt, however, her gaze instead shifted towards her downed opponent who was mere feet from the both of them; a low hum escaping the Saiyaness, while King Opart had finally stood from his shocked and seated position. It looked as though he was waiting for his niece and Earth's Representative to have their talk, so that he could properly declare the winner. "Heal Lirocco, please. I should be alright, after a visit to the hot springs before we leave, if you'd want to come, but... I think he needs help more than I do." If or once Tater likely obliged her dear friend's odd request, only then would Opart make his proper declaration, as he raised a hand to signify a moment of silence, so that he could speak.

"Let it be made official, that Hakkona is the winner of this bout! A continued few moments of silence are in order, so that we may hear from the victor, herself!" Post-declaration, the King would immediately do as the Lagomorph had done just moments ago, as he made his way into the arena's battlefield itself, and approach his niece, and thus allowing her to stay close to Tater and the downed Rebel, in case the latter decided to be outraged by his loss, once he eventually woke from his unconscious state.

"Hakkona, as you and many are aware, Lirocco's purpose for challenging you to this fight was to attempt to usurp our lineage for the throne, and to rule the very sect that we've cared for, since before the other sects were even formed across the universe! To those who still doubt your right to be royalty, or your worth as not just a Saiyan, but a person overall, what say you, to those steadfast critics?" It likely felt cheesy to the King, to interview his own niece like he wasn't related to her, but clearly everyone in attendance seemed to prefer that, over things ending differently; previously vocal members of the massive crowd actively having cheered Hakkona, by the end.

The dead silence made it feel as though Hakkona needed a few moments to formulate a response, even if nothing more than a minute had passed since she'd requested that Tater focus on healing the Would-Have-Been Usurper, instead of the Buff Gal herself. What would Hakkona say? How long would Lirocco be out for? It was almost as if the immediate aftermath of the fight, itself, was still holding onto some of the skirmish's tension.

[hackfixation]

Bojack Horseman would sign up for Severance immediately. The minute it's explained that he'll have no memories while working he would be down.

[worstloki]

AU where Loki doesn’t interfere with Thor’s banishment at all and it takes Thor years to prove himself worthy and when he returns to Asgard everything is just. The same. Nothing seems to have changed at all and everyone greets him like his absence was a minor obstacle that didn’t fundamentally change Thor and the worst part is Loki stepped down from the place as regent without any delay and Thor can’t help but feel there’s something underlaying the way his brother looks at him now and won’t let him touch him and Thor doesn’t know what he could have missed because he doesn’t think he would have found anything wrong with the things around him and how everyone behaves if he hadn’t spent time on Earth reflecting.

[jellofish-plant]

Proof of Existence

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader Summary: You were used to waiting up for Jason after patrol, but you weren’t expecting Robin to be the one to climb through your window instead. Damian Wayne is determined to prove that Jason was lying about having a girlfriend, and unfortunately, that means invading your apartment at an ungodly hour. Things only escalate when he calls in reinforcements, and by the time Jason actually arrives, he finds you in the middle of a full-blown Wayne family interrogation.

Warnings: Fluff, sleep deprivation, Batfamily chaos, Jason being grumpy but soft

[Masterlist]

You sighed, rubbing your eyes as you glanced at the clock. 2:37 AM.

Jason was late. Again.

You weren’t exactly worried he was Red Hood, after all but you hated waiting up for him, exhaustion pulling at your limbs while the city lights flickered outside your window.

You barely had time to close your eyes before you heard a rustling noise near the fire escape. Immediately alert, you tensed, but before you could reach for your phone, the window slid open.

A small, caped figure landed silently in your living room.

You blinked. “You’re not Jason.”

Damian Wayne Robin, Gotham’s tiniest menace straightened up, arms crossed over his chest as he scrutinized you with a critical gaze.

“So you are real,” he muttered.

You stared at him, still half-asleep. “Excuse me?”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Todd claims he has a girlfriend. I assumed it was a delusion. But…” He took a step closer, inspecting you like a rare specimen. “You exist.”

“Uh… yeah?” you said slowly, watching as he started pacing around the apartment.

“This is unfortunate,” he muttered to himself.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “It’s almost three in the morning, Damian. Did you break in just to confirm I’m not imaginary?”

“I could have waited for Todd to bring you to the Manor, but that would’ve taken forever.” Damian wandered over to the bookshelf, tilting his head as he scanned the titles. “Hmph. Your taste in literature is acceptable.”

“Oh, thank God, I was really losing sleep over that one,” you deadpanned.

Damian ignored you, already moving to your kitchen. He opened the fridge, scowled, then closed it again. “You don’t eat enough protein.”

You groaned, flopping onto the couch. “Jason is going to kill you when he finds out you’re here.”

“Tt. I doubt it.”

Unfortunately, before you could kick him out, he pulled a communicator from his belt.

“You’re not—”

Too late.

“Drake, come in. I have urgent news,” Damian said, voice completely serious.

There was a brief static crackle before a groggy voice responded. “Damian, it’s late. What could possibly—”

“She’s real.”

Silence.

Then—“No f**ing way.”*

You groaned loudly, covering your face with a pillow.

A few minutes later, your front door actually opened, this time with a key Tim Drake, still in his Red Robin suit but looking like he regretted every decision that led him here.

“Oh my God,” Tim breathed, staring at you like he’d just seen a ghost. “Jason actually has a girlfriend.”

“Why does everyone think I’m fake?” you demanded.

Tim grinned. “Because Jason refuses to let us meet you. Honestly, I thought you were just an excuse for him to leave family dinners early.”

Damian huffed. “As if Todd would be clever enough for that.”

You sighed. “Okay. Great. Mystery solved. You guys can leave now—”

Knock knock.

Oh, come on.

The door opened again, and in strolled none other than Dick Grayson—Nightwing himself—looking far too excited for this hour.

“Ohhhh, this is fantastic,” he said, beaming as he took in the scene. “We finally have proof! Jason’s not making it up!”

“I hate all of you,” you grumbled, pulling Jason’s discarded hoodie over your head as if that could make them all disappear.

“Are you being held against your will?” Dick asked, only half-joking.

“No, but I will commit a crime if you don’t let me sleep.”

Before Dick could respond, the window slammed open again.

“What the hell is going on?”

Jason stood on the fire escape, mask half-off, hair a mess, and murder in his eyes.

“Oh, hey, Jason,” Tim greeted casually. “Nice place.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “Are you—why—” He ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “It is three in the goddamn morning.”

“Yes, I noticed,” you said dryly.

Jason turned to you, taking in the way you looked tired, wrapped in his hoodie, blanket half-falling off the couch. His jaw tightened. “Baby, why are you still up?”

You gestured vaguely to the three idiots in your apartment. “Ask them.”

Jason’s glare could’ve set the building on fire. “What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Confirming she’s real,” Damian said simply.

Jason groaned. “Are you kidding me? You—” He pointed at Damian. “Go home. You—” Now at Tim. “Stop enabling this. And you—” Dick raised his hands before Jason could finish.

“Relax, Jaybird,” Dick said, smirking. “We’re just excited to meet the girl you’ve been hiding.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “I hate all of you.”

“Are you two really dating?” a new voice cut through.

Stephanie Brown Batgirl was standing by the window now, her blonde hair messy from a night’s patrol. She crossed her arms, raising a brow at you. “I’m sorry, but I had to see for myself. I really thought it was just some weird ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ thing.”

“Oh my God,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m just here for the popcorn,” Duke Thomas The Signal grinned from the doorway, joining the chaos with his own brand of enthusiasm.

Jason stood frozen, arms crossed, looking like he was about to explode. “This is not happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening,” Dick teased, leaning in and nudging Jason. “You can’t hide her anymore.”

Jason groaned, rubbing his face. “I swear to God…”

“Jason, relax,” you said, trying to calm him down, but your voice still laced with amusement. “Your family’s just a little... excited.”

Jason turned to you, his expression softening just a little. “I’m sorry, baby.” He pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I didn’t expect them to turn up like this, but…” He shot his family one last glare before pulling you closer. “I think I need some alone time with my girlfriend now.”

Everyone groaned in unison.

“You know what, fine,” Tim sighed, pushing himself off the wall. “We’ve gotten the proof we need. No more interruptions. You two have a good night.”

“You guys are the worst,” you muttered, laughing as Jason huffed beside you.

And when they finally filed out, leaving you alone with Jason, you sank back into his arms, letting the chaos of the Batfamily fade into the background.

Jason chuckled softly, kissing the top of your head. “Well, at least they like you.”

You smirked. “Yeah, I think I’ve officially been inducted into the Batfamily now.”

Jason snorted. “They’ll never leave us alone again, will they?”

“Not unless we’re really convincing at family dinners,” you teased.

Jason sighed, but there was a fond look in his eyes. “Maybe we’ll make a run for it next time.”

You laughed softly. “Sounds like a plan.”

[ladsonlads]

Impartial Hearts | Sylus - Part One

Pairing -> Boss Sylus x Non MC Reader

Parts -> Part One | Part Two

Synopsis -> You’ve been working as Onychinus’s accountant for two years, and you’ve been carrying two heavy secrets for a third of it. You were in love with your boss, and your mother was dying.

A/N -> Guys this shit is just sad icl I need to lay off the sad songs... anyways, reader is not MC but MC is mentioned I called her 'Miss Hunter' or 'MC' bc I couldn't come up with a name, sorry.

EDIT: Thanks for all the love <33333 I honestly didn’t expect so many people to want a part two, I promise it’s in the works and I’ll try to get it out ASAP.

Trigger Warnings -> Death mentioned, heart issues mentioned.

Word Count -> 7.3K

“I’m sorry, what?” The question slipped out of your lips without much of an attempt from your brain to restrain it. You regretted that instantly.

“Watch your tone, Y/N.” The scarily low timbre in Sylus’s voice threatened retribution if you didn’t.

“Sorry… It’s just that— are you sure? I feel like this is a decision that requires a little bit more contemplation. Like getting a dog!” You tried to backpedal, but from the look of Sylus’s narrowing eyes, he wasn’t happy with your response. 

“Are you comparing her to a dog?” There was a threat thinly encased in Sylus’s question and under the thick layers of fear, you felt the slightest pang of jealousy that the he felt so strongly about defending her honour. 

What a dramatic and far-fetched conclusion. You wanted to say, but instead you bit your tongue. 

“N-No! Of course not. Not at all. I’m just wondering if wiring her such a significant sum from your equity account is a good idea when you met her—” You make a show of glancing at your shabby watch “— 13 hours ago is a sound decision.”

“So you’re questioning my judgement? Is that it?” 

You couldn’t blame him for being difficult, you walked right into that one. 

“No! Well… yes?” One would think that after two years of working for Sylus, you’d have the ability to stand your ground against him. But there was only so far someone could push a man like Sylus before he deemed you irredeemable. The consequence of which involved a hollow point in your skull. 

“Wrong answer. Wire it. Now. I’ll deal with your insubordination later.” He quickly left the room that doubled as your ‘office’; you shared it with the twins who liked to use it as their reprieve from crime. You wouldn’t have minded had they chosen less rambunctious ways of cooling-down, like reading or watching a show. Instead they’d play-fight, actually fight, play video games on the loudest volume or — the worst option of all — karaoke. 

The sarcastic yes sir died on your tongue as quickly as it crossed your mind. You pissed him off far more than usual today, and he was already way more tense since her arrival. 

Miss Hunter. Sylus kept her first name under lock-and-key, said it was safer that way. You barely caught a glimpse of her as Sylus dragged her out of his office, which was across from yours. From the glimpse you did catch, she was beautiful. Fair skin, jet black hair, a fit body. Her outfit, which was the Hunter’s Association standard issue uniform, had never looked so good. 

From what you knew from shameless eavesdropping, she was extremely important to Sylus. She was part of some critical master plan you weren’t privy to. 

You hated her.

Albeit, completely unfounded, your hatred for her stemmed from an ugly feeling you could not shake. In the two years you worked as an accountant for Onychinus, Sylus touched you once. Correction, you touched him once accidentally when you had too much to drink with the twins after work. You were taking careful steps to the bar to pour yourself another glass of a gross vodka raspberry mixture when you tripped on the edge of one of Sylus’s extremely expensive rugs. Your feet pedalled forward in an attempt to keep you upright, and you clashed right into Sylus who was innocently scrolling through his phone on the wall next to the bar. 

You could recall the fear you felt vividly. You almost felt the same wedge lodged in your throat. Sylus quickly removed you from him, steadying you with his cold palms on your shoulders (an action that made you blush like a schoolgirl) before verbally deeming you cut-off from all liquor from the night.

That was the full extent of all physical contact you’d had with Sylus in two whole years, meanwhile it took Miss Hunter less than 24-hours before he was holding her hand. God, you hated her.

“Oi, Y/N, we’re using the company card for lunch today.” Luke quickly yelled out to you from the hallway, too engrossed in your self-loathing and plain old regular loathing, you forgot to remind Luke that they only had $40 left on their weekly lunch budget. 

Knowing the twins, they wouldn’t have cared anyway, creating yet another problem you had to fix.

Looking at the excel sheet that contained this month’s trial balance, you shivered at the thought of having to deal with Sylus’s wrath at yet another monthly increase in expenses. So, you shifted the remaining balance on your lunch budget, a generous $255, into the twin’s joint account. It was only Thursday morning, and they’d managed to max-out their $1000 budget. 

You hated them too.

You looked through your drawer in hopes you had a leftover snack that could sadly double as your lunch and felt a wave of relief at the sight of a protein bar. 

It wasn’t like Sylus didn’t pay you enough to afford your own lunch, in fact he was the most generous employer you’d ever had. But the only thing bigger than his bank account was corporate greed, and the blood-sucking heathens at Akso hospital were milking you dry.

Life in the N109 Zone wasn’t easy for most people, especially your mother who raised you all on her own after your father left. She worked 3 jobs to put you through university in Linkon, so the least you could do was use every last cent you made on ensuring she had the best medical treatment money could buy. 

Your mother had a bad heart ever since she was born, it was a hereditary condition that would sometimes skip a generation only to show up in the next. She had an atrial septal defect, or in another words, a hole in her heart. You were born with one too, although yours was much smaller. She’d undergone several surgeries to repair the hole, but it reopened, and now the scar tissue surrounding the surgical site was obstructing her arteries. She was now on bypass patiently awaiting a heart transplant you couldn’t quite afford, but you’d make it happen. You were sure of it. 

With half the protein bar in your mouth, you began to call Dr Zayne, the cardiovascular surgeon who was overseeing your mother’s care. You called him for updates on your mother and the transplant list every day, since a train ticket to Linkon was too big an expense to justify, you’d settle for Dr Zayne’s cold recollections of your mother’s heart function. 

“Ah, Miss L/N, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call today.” The dead-pan sarcasm dripped from his tone. 

“Your bedside manner needs serious work.” You bit back. You weren’t sure when or how your relationship with your mother’s doctor turned so hostile, but you figured the busy chief of surgery was annoyed by your constant calls. 

“Need I remind you, Y/N, you’re not the patient.” 

“There isn’t a waking second I’m not thinking about the patient, Dr Zayne.” 

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air at your confession. You didn’t mean to make him feel guilty, in all honesty, you looked forward to the banter before the updates on your mom, it helped ease the nerves. 

“Do you want to see her?”

“Of course, but I’m working a lot.”

“No, I mean right now.”

“Are you finally letting me borrow the hospital helicopter?”

“No, but I will let you borrow my phone so you can FaceTime her.”

His kind offer caught you off guard. “Really?!”

“Sure, you caught me in a rare moment where I don’t have someplace to be.”

“It must be Christmas.”

“Rarer than Christmas. Think solar eclipse.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Now give me my mother.”

Zayne kept his promise, and you spoke to your mother for your entire lunch break, and then some. You would’ve continued talking to her until the sunset if not for Sylus’s interruption. 

“I don’t pay you to FaceTime your friends, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I have to go. Talk to you later. I love you!” Your mother rasped out that she loved you too before you quickly hung up the phone. 

“Sorry.” Your apology fell on deaf ears as Sylus took slow, deliberate steps toward your desk. 

“Do you hate this job?” Sylus’s asked this deceivingly innocuous question while sliding a finger across the mahogany tabletop. 

“Um… no?” You placed your hands in your lap as you answered to hide the slight tremor. 

“You sound unsure.” 

“I like this job very much.” You made the declaration with as much confidence as you could muster. Your mood was already depleted from seeing your mother’s sick face for the first time in months. She wasn’t looking any healthier, and Zayne told you she’d barely moved up the list. 

107. There were 107 people who’s lives were more important than the woman who raised you. You were well aware that wasn’t the way they calculated the metric, but it didn’t make the number hurt any less. 

Sylus let out an sigh that suggested whatever he’d say next was a much tamer version of what he truly wanted to say. “Then I’d suggest you start acting like it. Remember, sweetheart, everyone’s replaceable. Especially you.” 

His comment stung like antiseptic on an open wound, though you were sure that was his intention. 

“Right. Of course. I won’t let you down.” 

“For your sake, I hope not. The twins told me they went to that seafood buffet for lunch, you haven’t let them go over the budget again, have you?” 

You quickly pulled up the online banking account connected to the company card. You saw the $189.95 charge for the seafood buffet and swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“Nope, it’s all dandy.” You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. He noticed. 

“Good. You wire that money like I asked?” The venom in his tone alleviated, and you were glad at least one thing seemed to have worked out for you that day. 

But alas, your joy was short-lived.

“Yes, an hour ago, but it’s still processing until you put in your access code.” You moved away from the computer to give him room to step around and put in the code like he usually did. However, his feet never moved from their position in front of your desk.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Just like that, his voice was all venom again. 

You were beginning to grow agitated with his misplaced anger constantly being taken out on you. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, he’d tear into you like a bear would a boxing bag and then act like everything was fine the next day. You never got an apology, you knew not to expect one. 

But lately these fits of unbridled rage came about more often than not, and Sylus took a shovel to your mole hill of resolve every time. 

“I always need your access code on transfers over $500,000. I’ve never told you before, I just assumed—” 

“Are you stupid?” You didn’t bother answering the mean rhetorical question. “What about this transaction seemed usual to you? Did I not convey my urgency effectively earlier? Or are there rocks where your brain should be?” His voice never went up in volume, but you could tell he was angry. Livid even. Seething with fury at your supposed incompetence. 

Your eyes welled up with tears at his outburst. Normally you could take whatever insults he’d throw at you with little outward reaction, but you were particularly sensitive from the sandwich-shaped hole in your stomach, and the maternal hole in your heart which ached every second, reminding you of the much bigger one your mother bore.

Before you could stop it, a tear rolled down your cheek, and the second you registered the sensation you quickly went to wipe it. 

“Stop crying.” Sylus ordered.

“I’m not—crying.” Your voice betrayed you, a hitch in your throat interrupting the sentence. The tears began to stream down faster, so fast your hands couldn’t keep up. 

You prepared yourself for a speech about how weak you were, how he wouldn’t tolerate such inane shows of infirmity. But all Sylus did was watch as you embarrassingly tried to pull yourself together. 

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Sylus moved next to you, hunching down to input his code into the transaction. His eyes glanced at the second monitor, displaying the company card’s account, and he zeroed in at the twin’s charge, and your lack thereof.

“Did you have lunch?” Sylus’s voice was softer, you attributed that to the fact that he was inches away from you. The question was so out of left-field it actually caused your tears to cease. 

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t use the card.” Your eyes followed his to the bank statement and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Oh, I had some extra cash on me I wanted to get rid of.”

“You’re supposed to use the card, Y/N. That’s what it’s for.”

“It’s fine, I’ll have an extra big lunch tomorrow. Granted you’re not firing me?” You were only half-joking, but you could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips perk up in an almost-smile before he shut it straight down. 

“I won’t fire you if you tell me what’s got you this upset? I’m not so proud as to assume it was me.” It was that moment you realised Sylus was capable of feeling empathy. He was aware of how hurtful he was being all those times he’d berate you over the smallest inconveniences for virtually no reason, and he simply didn’t care. 

It was far worse to know that he did possess empathy, but chose not to extend it to you. 

“It’s just that time of the month.” You lied, convincingly. You’d mull over your blatant betrayal to feminism later, but for now you needed a means of shutting this inquiry down and quickly. You didn’t want anyone knowing about your mom, you were sure the pity would destroy you. She wasn’t going to die, and you didn’t want people to treat you like she might. 

Sylus waited for the transfer to clear before he left. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when the door closed behind him.

“Are you sure we only have $105 on our lunch budget.” Luke’s question grated on your frayed nerves.

“$105 and five cents.” Your distinction didn’t do much help. 

“Come on, can’t you do your weird accounty magic and make more appear? We want steak.” Kiernan’s plea wasn’t helping either. You’d exhausted every last option, anything else would definitely cause alarms when Sylus eventually reviewed the accounts. 

“I already did all I could, I gave you an extra $255!” And a fat good that did you, now you were hungry and annoyed.

“Well, we both know there’s plenty more where that came from.”

There really wasn’t, but you didn’t tell them that. 

“I’m sorry, $105 is all you’ve got.” 

“Fine. But we’re very unhappy with you, Y/N. Very unhappy.” Luke chastised you, but you couldn’t even pretend to care. 

“Better you than Sylus, now please leave.” The twins opened their mouths with a retort, but a domineering voice interrupted them. 

“You heard her. Beat it and stop bothering my accountant.” 

The twins scurried at the sound of Sylus’s voice, and you wondered how much of that conversation he overheard.

“So, where did that extra $255 come from, Y/N?”

Too much of the conversation. Way too much. 

“My budget.” You cut your losses and told him the truth. Any other answer would have surely pissed him off. 

“I give you $300 for the whole week. Your sandwich costs $15. Either you haven’t been eating, or you've been paying out of your own pocket against my orders. Which is it?” 

Well, that was a lose-lose situation if there ever was one. You didn’t want to deal with the questions about why you were skipping meals, so you lied again. You always were an exceptional liar, your mother taught you that the less people knew about you, the less they had to hurt you with.

“I made too much food for dinner so I had leftovers. It’s no biggie.” You didn’t even look up from your screen as the lie left your lips. 

“What leftovers?” He asked. 

“Pasta.” You answered. 

“What kind?”

“Alfredo.”

“With mushrooms?”

“Yeah.”

“You hate mushrooms.” 

Shit. Why did he know that?

“I had a change of heart.”

“You’re lying.”

You bit your lip in worry, wondering how you were going to get yourself out of this one.

You stalled as much as you could, pretending to be engrossed in something on your screen, until the sound of Sylus’s phone ringing broke the tension. 

You internally thanked every deity that could possibly be watching over you as he took the call, and prayed to all of them that it would be something urgent. 

You heard the faint sounds of a feminine voice through his phone.

“Kitten, where are you?”

Wait, who’s kitten? 

“Just calm down, tell me where you are.” Sylus didn’t even give you a second glance as he quickly stormed out of your office. Leaving you to mull over the intimate pet name, knowing exactly who it was intended for.

As Sylus left the room you reflected on the cacophony your feelings created in your mind. You weren’t sure when you developed such strong feelings for Sylus — or why. His personality was the antithesis of yours. Where he would free fall off of the proverbial cliff of his life without a second thought, every risk you took was meticulously calculated. Where he was rough and respected, you were sort of a pushover. Where his deadpan sense of humour tended to elicit more fear than laughter, you had an awkward habit of cracking jokes in situations they were not appropriate.

You were polar opposites, two parallel lines that were destined never to intertwine. You figured that was why everything hurt so much around him. He wasn’t right for you, but he would be right for someone else. 

The envy you’d carried for so long began to subside for the first time in years. Sylus had an array of estranged lovers that he’d bring around his mansion every once in a while, and now Miss Hunter. But for the first time the reminder of that fact didn’t hurt as much as it usually did. 

It was Mid-September and you warned yourself that if you couldn’t eliminate all the romantic feelings you had for Sylus by the end of Autumn, you’d cut your losses and quit. 

Of course, you’d have to find another job that paid just as well, but you were willing to cross that bridge when it came to it. There was only so much turmoil your fragile heart could take, and if you were dead, your mother would be as good as dead too. 

Happy with your iron-clad plan, you opened up your notes app and began to draft ‘Operation Sylus: No More’. You could change the name later.

Operation Sylus: No More

The foolproof guide of getting rid of all feelings Sylus related by the end of November. 

Step 1: avoid Sylus and all thoughts of him at all costs.

Step 2: no more funny jokes, his laugh is seriously deadly. 

Step 3: force yourself to remember Miss Hunter in moments of weakness. She’s the one he really wants. 

Step 4: try to find love elsewhere, like the corner shop owner, he may be in his 50s and happily married but he’s kind of a silver-fox!

Step 5: do not, under any circumstances, allow yourself to be alone with Sylus for too long.

You looked back at your list, proud of the relatively easy steps to follow. This should be a cakewalk. Whoever said you couldn’t be the master of your own feelings clearly never met you. 

“Boss needs you in his office. He says bring your laptop.” Kiernan’s voice broke your focus. You were almost finished with the end of year report for this financial year, a task Sylus forced you to complete annually. It was meaningless, considering Onychinus wasn’t necessarily a legitimate business listed on the stock exchange, but you took it seriously nonetheless. 

“Okay, I’ll be right there.” You felt Kiernan’s eyes bore into you as you continued to make minor edits to the report. You’d sleep so much better once this 180 page document was out of your life. 

“He needs you now, Y/N. We’re both toast if you make him wait.” You sighed and couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Sylus’s lack of empathy for your large workload. 

You berated your past self for being so eager for this role, completing far too many tasks far too quickly, and setting the precedent that you were some sort of accounting machine. You really should learn to stick to the bare minimum. 

You walked over to the door leading to his office, and gave it a soft rap with your knuckles. The door opened by itself, or rather with the help of Sylus’s evol, to the sight of him leaning back in his chair, with Miss Hunter sitting directly in front of him on his desk.

Step 3 of your guide felt less like a friendly reminder and more like a stab in the gut. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man.

“We don’t have all day, sit down, Y/N.” Sylus’s command woke you from your trance, and you hoped your envy wasn’t as obvious as you thought it was. 

This was the first time you’d seen Miss Hunter up close, and when your eyes travelled to meet hers, she gave you a warm smile. You felt like the shittiest person to exist for ever hating her.

Your eyes scanned the room for somewhere to sit. The chairs opposite his seemed like they would intrude on the intimate moment he was clearly having with Miss Hunter, so you settled on an armchair in the corner that had a coffee table in front of it. 

Sylus sighed and didn’t even bother to ask you to move before he used his evol to whisk you up and deposit your body onto the chair at his table like a rag doll. You hated when he used his evol on you, it felt like the arms of a prickly cactus. 

“In a few minutes, I’ll be getting a phone call from a possible investor. He’s extremely exclusive and known for running tests on his potential partners before agreeing to invest with them. My intel suggests he’s going to propose a joint project, but the numbers he’ll give me will be far off. I need to counter-propose numbers that would generate a high return and quickly, or he’ll hang up and I’ll never hear from him again. So, open up your laptop and prepare, because if you tank this for me, there will no longer be a place for you here. Understood?”

When Sylus did things like that, it made it easier to love him a little less. He could be a complete and utter dick sometimes, and while you’d learned to accept it as a human flaw, recently it seemed more like a permanent predisposition. 

Perhaps Sylus was nice to you because you were entertaining, now that he had someone better to occupy his time, you were nothing more than a forgotten bygone. 

“Yeah, I got it.” You opened up an excel sheet with a project analysis template. These were the types of questions you’d get in your first year accounting courses but you let Sylus think it was much harder than it actually was — just to make him sweat. 

When the phone rang, Sylus’s muscles grew tense and Miss Hunter gave him a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. You bit your lip to hide the sudden scowl on your face. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man. Think of corner-shop man.

Your eyes bore into your excel sheet with an intensity that would’ve produced laser beams in an alternate reality. You focused entirely on the calculations, listening intently to the brassy voice of the investor on the phone. 

It didn’t take you long to generate the minimum initial investment they’d need to generate some form of return, as well as the payback period. You wrote the numbers down on a notepad, and you let him do the rest. 

When you heard the investor let out a humorous ‘I’m impressed’ you packed up your laptop and left the room without so much as a wave. You felt Sylus and Miss Hunter’s eyes follow you out of the room, but you didn’t bother looking back.

You felt the thin line between love and hate begin to grow blurry. Where Sylus was concerned, your feelings were as clear as the muddy water in a swamp. Maybe two and a half months was too much time. You needed these feelings gone expeditiously. 

You decided to take your lunch early, and you left the extravagant mansion that doubled as HQ to find your bike. You couldn’t really afford a car, or a license, but your bright yellow bike could do everything a car could for a fraction of the price. You were in the process of strapping up your helmet when Luke walked up. 

“What’s up with you lately?” His question was inevitable. You wondered how long it would take for someone to notice that you were fighting internal battles on every front. Your mother’s health, Sylus’s sudden chronic asshole syndrome flareup, your dwindling bank account. 

“Nothing, I’ve just been tired.”

“Well, we’re having a few friends over tonight. Just a small group, if you’re not too tired, you should come.” Luke was the more sociable twin, and he was most likely extending this invitation to you out of pity, but you’d take anything over being trapped in your own mind. 

“Will there be alcohol?” You quipped.

“Duh.” Luke’s response brought the first genuine smile to your face in weeks. 

“I’ll be there.” After your agreement, you cycled away toward the corner shop for lunch.

It was a quaint bakery/deli run by a Turkish man who you knew on a first name basis. He was aged-like-fine-wine handsome. Features weathered tastefully by age, with a full head of hair that quelled your fears of your future children inheriting the early onset male pattern baldness gene. 

But when you entered the store and saw Mr Demir, there were no butterflies. Your heart didn’t skip a beat. Your hands didn’t even quiver as you paid for the sandwich. In fact, they were so steady you figured you could give Dr Zayne a run for his money. 

Speaking of Dr Zayne, his daily updates were growing scarcer in detail, and you were worried that something was wrong. He insisted he was just busy and since your mother had moved up to 93 on the transplant list, you let it slide. 

“You know you’re allowed to try the other sandwiches, right?” Mr Demir’s handsome face contorted into a teasing smile, and if he didn’t own this shop with his beautiful wife, you might’ve asked him to marry you then and there. 

“I like this one. Your family is very talented.” You smiled at him, but it seemed even he could tell that it wasn’t genuine.

“You’re getting skinnier you know, and you haven’t been coming as often. Is something wrong or are you cheating on me with a salad store?” His joke brought a giggle out of you. 

You never thought that people noticed you in a way that was significant. You felt as if you were akin to a missing bird poster on a telephone pole in the middle of a busy street. People would glance at it, remember how common and undistinguishable birds are, and forget it ever existed.

Mr Demir’s concern warmed your heart, and you promised that if you ever won the lottery, you would give him half. 

“I’ve just been cooking more, that’s all. Thank you Mr Demir, say hello to your wife for me!” You gave him a small wave as you exited the shop and the weight suffocating your chest was a little lighter.

Mr Demir’s family had boundless love to share, and while their shop was small, they were happy. Maybe things would work out for you and your mother after all. 

The rest of the workday passed by like a fever dream. You finally managed to complete the annual report, a copy of it sitting in Sylus’s email, surely unopened. He left soon after that phone call with Miss Hunter, you didn’t bother to ask where.

The mansion was empty when you turned off the last monitor, and you thought you’d start pre-gaming early. Sylus always warned all of you that his bar was off-limits unless he stated otherwise, but the man had so much alcohol, you doubted he’d ever notice. 

He only drank red wine and whiskey, and you hated wine, so you settled for an almost full bottle of whiskey. You took one sip and realised you couldn’t stand the taste either, but it was still better than the wine, so you chugged glass after glass like they were shots. 

The heavy alcohol burned your throat on the way down and continued to burn in your stomach, but the feeling kept you warm so you didn’t really mind. You’d consumed half the bottle by the time the twins returned with two other men and one girl following in suit.  

“Y/N! Good, you’re here. Help me set up the drinks on the table.” You nodded your head at Luke’s request, knowing your speech would likely be slurred. 

You helped him line up the bottles of cheap tequila, vodka, fireball and a fear-inducing amount of absinthe. These cheap spirits were much more your speed.

“Alright, we’re starting with truth or dare. Pick your poison and sit around the coffee table.” Kiernan’s announcement had everyone scattering around the coffee table with cups in hand. You opted for the fireball, too scared to mix alcohol this early in the night. 

You recognised everyone from another one of the twin’s impromptu parties. They only ever threw them when they were sure Sylus would be gone overnight. You didn’t let yourself dwell on where he was or who he was with. 

The game was more entertaining than you expected, everyone had interesting questions, and when it came to dares, the twins always had something sadistic in mind. 

It was your turn when they decided to up the stakes. You were already wasted, so you committed to answering whatever question they pummelled at you. 

“Truth.”

“You’re so boring, you always pick truth.” Luke whined, his arm shaking yours in protest.

“That’s because I’m scared of your dares.”

Luke rolled his eyes but conceded.

“Fine. How many people have you slept with?”

All conversations came to a stifling halt as everyone’s eyes landed on you. Far too embarrassed to tell 5 people you barely knew that you were still a virgin, you changed your answer. There was nothing to be ashamed of, but you knew the twins would mercilessly make fun of you, and you didn't have the energy to explain that between the constant pressure to succeed for your mother, and her eventual illness, your love life had been placed on the back-burner.

“Dare.”

“You know the rules, if you switch options and refuse to do it, you have to finish everyone’s drinks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Hit me.” You glared at Luke with determination. You should’ve known that when everyone was this drunk, the dares could only get progressively more outrageous.

“I dare you to call Sylus and tell him you crashed his McLaren.” Luke looked proud of his dare, and the smile dropped from your face instantly. 

Even Kiernan’s eyes flashed with concern before he broke out into an obnoxious laugh.

“Oh- Holy shit! That’s gold.” The words left Kieran’s mouth in-between his laughter. Everyone around the table looked at you eagerly.

You knew if you finished off everyone’s cups you’d definitely die, or worse, throw up. 

“Fine.” Too drunk to realise the implications of what you were doing, you dialled Sylus. There was also the chance he just didn’t pick up, but four and a half rings later his annoyed voice resounded through the speaker of your phone. 

“What is it?” From the sound of Sylus’s tone, you’d interrupted something important. You bit down the bitter feelings that threatened to spill out, and stuck to the objective.

“I have something to tell you, but you have to promise you won’t get mad.” There was no universe in which Sylus couldn’t tell you were drunk.

In all honesty, your phone call was a welcome reprieve from his mind-numbingly boring conversation with Linkon’s politicians. He’d offered to attend this event with MC with little thought as to what it would pertain. His eyes raked over her baby pink dress, and since he couldn’t get her out of it just yet, he entertained your drunk rambling.

“I don’t have to do anything.” Sylus expected you to apologise, but all he heard was a sound foreign to him. Were you laughing? Sylus heard indecipherable voices in the background, and he found himself wondering who was making you laugh. 

“True. Okay well, you know that dark grey sports car you love soooooooooooo much?” Nice going, Y/N, remind him just how much he loves this car. You thought. The phone was on speaker, per the requests of the fellow attendees. 

Everyone bit back laughs at the situation which was extremely unfunny to anyone with a blood alcohol level under 0.05. 

“What did you do?” Sylus’s question had a deadly underpinning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I crashed it!” At your exclamation, the room exploded in laughter, and you muted the microphone quickly before Sylus could hear it.

“You crashed it?”

You quickly unmuted to add. “Yup! Absolutely totalled.”

“Are you okay? Where are you? I’m coming.” 

The laughter immediately died down. That was not how he was supposed to react, not at all. 

Luke and Kiernan gestured for you to shut it down and you quickly began to backtrack.

“No! No you don’t have to come home. I’m fine. It was just a prank.”

“Oh, so you’re at my place?” ShitShitShitShitShit.

“Yes… The twins and I had too much to drink and we thought it would be funny to prank you. I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have interrupted your night.”

You braced yourself for the angry lecture on how Sylus’s time was more valuable the rarest ruby, but it never came.

“Just you and the twins, right?”

Luke and Kiernan gestured for you to agree.

“Yes.”

“You should probably call an exorcist.” Were you drunk or did he actually just tell you to call an exorcist?

“Huh?” Everyone in the room looked just as perplexed.

“You know, since those three other people in my living room must be apparitions.” 

“You didn’t rig the camera?” Kiernan’s shrill scream was definitely registered by the phone’s mic. 

“Fuck! I forgot.” Luke exclaimed in response as they scrambled to pack everything up. 

“Um…” With everyone frantically running around the room, you were left to deal with Sylus’s wrath alone.

“How come you never laugh when you’re with me?” And with that question you were convinced the alcohol had induced auditory hallucinations.

“You’re not very funny.” You decided to play along, after all, imaginary Sylus was much more fun than the real one.

“Hmm, I thought I was.”

“Nope. All your jokes end in someone dying, and usually that someone is me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, those aren’t jokes.” That was something real Sylus would say. Damn, these auditory hallucinations were realistic.

“I know, I really thought you were going to kill me last week.” You let out an involuntary snort at the hilarious image of your head on a pike. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because I screwed up that wire transfer to Miss Hunter. You were soooo mad. You must reaaaalllyyyy like her.”

“I guess I do.” The line went quiet on both ends after that. 

This auditory hallucination was no fun following his confession, so you hung up. Sylus called a few times after, but you never noticed. The room began spinning and your eyes began watering, so you curled up on the floor until your head stopped pounding, but by then you were fast asleep.

Sylus returned to his mansion the next morning to find your office empty. It was still an hour before you were due to start, but you were always early. 

With an internal promise to check again in an hour, he walked toward the living room. It didn’t take long before he noticed a mop of light brown hair on his rug.

He walked toward your sleeping form with indignation, only to find every ounce of anger sucked out of him when he knelt down to find your sleeping face. 

He hadn’t been that close to you in what felt like forever. Was your face always that pale? His eyes caressed your under eye bags, and your hollow cheeks. He could’ve sworn they were fuller when he hired you. What happened to you? 

Before Sylus could give in to the urge to wake you up and ask, your phone made a sound from the coffee table. He picked it up and saw you were getting a call from Zayne.

Who the fuck was Zayne?

He answered the phone before he could think it through.

“Oh, Y/N, good. I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”

“You should’ve taken the hint.” Sylus couldn’t help the bite in his tone. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry at this Zayne, but his emotions were beginning to confuse him more often than he cared to admit.

“Who’s this?”

Sylus could’ve said that he was your boss. He should’ve said that he was your boss. But what he said instead…

“Y/N’s mine.” His employee, but that distinction didn’t seem necessary in the moment.

“Well, could you tell her to call me back as soon as possible. I have urgent news about her mother.”

The comment about her mother perplexed Sylus even more. 

“Who are you?”

“I’m her mother’s heart surgeon. I have to go, have her call me soon.” Sylus felt stupid for the unnecessary show of hostility, but he only had more questions following Zayne’s answer.

It seemed the conversation was enough to wake you up from your slumber, and the moment you registered your surroundings, the headache you had was amplified tenfold. Your muscles hurt from sleeping on the hard floor, and you were sure your legs had morphed into jelly. 

You were never drinking again.

“Well hello, sleeping beauty.” Sylus watched as you groggily rubbed your eyes. The right side of your face had an indent matching the pattern of his rug, and your hair was dishevelled. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Sylus. I’m so sorry.” You spoke through a yawn before cradling your head in your hands. The world needed to stop spinning.

Sylus shoved an open bottle of water in your face, and you greedily snatched the peace offering before he had time to change his mind.

“Zayne called, said he had some news about your mother.”

You shot straight up, spilling some water in the process.

“What did he say? Where’s my phone?” You glanced at large Sylus’s hand which was wrapped around said phone. If you weren’t so worried about your mother, you might’ve found the sight of Sylus holding something covered in a floral case amusing. Powering through the piercing pain in your temple, you held your hand out.

“Please give it back.” 

“What’s wrong with your mother?”

“Please Sylus, I can’t do this right now.” You tried to lunge for the phone, but he was faster. Raising his hand above his head and well out of your reach. 

“You’ll have this back once you answer my question.”

“She has the flu. Now give it back.” You jumped up in a feeble attempt to retrieve the phone, but he was just so goddamn tall. 

“I didn’t know flu treatment protocol involved heart surgery now. Guess I need to brush up on the latest medical news.” His sardonic tone made you scoff. Only Sylus could be such a dick while your mother's life was in limbo.

Curse Dr Zayne and his blabbermouth. 

If it wasn’t for the severe hangover, you might’ve been able to think of an explanation. But you were so nervous you felt sick and you needed to know the news Dr Zayne had.

“Fine. She needs a heart transplant, she’s on coronary bypass and if she doesn’t get a heart soon she’ll die. Is that good enough for you?” You continued to try to reach the phone, not bothering to check Sylus’s reaction to your confession. 

He dropped the phone in your hand and you all but sprinted out of the living room to make the phone call.

The line rang once, twice, three times before Zayne picked up.

“Y/N?”

“Yes! What’s wrong? Is my mom okay? Tell me she’s okay.”

“Slow down, she’s alive, but she had a cardiac event. Not a heart attack, but it still did some damage. Her condition is worse, much worse, Y/N. I’m sorry.” 

Your back slumped against the wall of the hallway and you felt your knees give in as you slid to the floor. 

“How long does she have?” The tears streaming down your face fell onto your shirt, leaving uncomfortable wet spots in their wake.

“A few weeks, a month’s top. But this did move her to the top of the list. She might get a transplant in time.” Zayne must have heard the sadness in your voice if he’d offered words of encouragement. He never did that. 

“Thank you. I’m going to come see her.”

“I’ll get the nurses to bring in an extra bed. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond so you hung up instead. The pain in your head was now but a mere memory as your heart began to splinter into a million little pieces. 

There was so much you still had to do. You needed to buy your mom her first ever house, and help her plant the prettiest flowers in the garden. You had to get her the dog she always dreamed about and the outdoor swing she missed from her childhood home. She still had to walk you down the aisle and sing your future children the lullabies she sang to you. She couldn’t go. Not yet. 

You didn’t even notice Sylus enter the hallway until you felt him sitting down next to you. He wove an arm behind your head, bringing your face into his chest. The intimacy of the act only made you cry harder. The last person to hold you that close was your mom, a few days before she’d collapsed. 

“It hurts.” You choked on your words and they came out muffled against Sylus’s chest.

“What hurts?” He asked. 

“My heart. It really hurts, Sylus.” You sobbed harder. It felt good to finally admit that you weren’t okay. To have someone hold you as your life fell apart around you. 

“Tell me what to do, Y/N. Anything.”

“Can I have some time off?” You took deep breaths as you tried to slow your crying down. You could break down once you reached the other side of this tumultuous predicament. 

The humble request drove Sylus insane. He’d offer you his own heart to save your mother if he wasn’t sure it was severely damaged, and all you could think to ask for was time off. 

“Of course.”

“Can you give me a ride to Linkon?” 

That request was a little better, but still not enough. 

“I’ll take you now, come on.”

“No wait, I need to go home and pack some things. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“You know you can still get a DUI on a pedal bike, right?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“But there’s still alcohol in your system, and you’re very upset. It won’t be safe, I’ll take you home on the way. Let’s go.” He stood up, his hand outstretched toward you. 

And with a heavy heart, you took Sylus’s hand.

[thebreakfastgenie]

This is going to get me screencapped and ridiculed by leftblr but at this point I don't care.

The way people talk about Ruth Bader Ginsburg is misogynistic. This post is not about the merits of her decision to remain in her seat. I've discussed that before and I'm happy to go through it again with anyone who is genuinely interested in the complexities of that situation, but for the sake of this post, I am not arguing that it's unreasonable to believe, with the benefit of hindsight, that the country would be a in a better position today if Ginsburg had retired in 2012. The issue I want to address is how people talk about it.

People who blame Ginsburg for the current state of the Supreme Court tend to throw around words like greedy, selfish, and ambitious, echoing a familiar form of misogyny. Ambition is only bad when women demonstrate it, and women in politics are regularly punished for ambition. Even more disturbingly, people tend to blame not just Ginsburg, but the women and girls who looked up to her. I've seen the "Notorious RBG" nickname derided as a cult of personality, when the reality is that Ruth Bader Ginsburg was a trailblazer and a role model to a lot of women and girls. I've seen leftists try to hide behind valid criticisms of some of Ginsburg's positions (and it should, but doesn't, go without saying that you can see someone as a role model without believing they are correct about every issue all the time) but you barely have to scratch the surface to see that the real complaint is that they think women who admire her are cringe. I don't know if people understand how significant she was; she was only the second woman on the Supreme Court and the first, Sandra Day O'Connor, was a conservative Reagan appointee. Even so, Justice O'Connor spoke about the significance of Justice Ginsburg joining her and reality that women faced in their position being more apparent when she could see it happening to someone else. It's the same old anti-feminist story of dismissing women and their desires.

This particular case rankles me because it's underscored by the complete silence about Anthony Kennedy. Ruth Bader Ginsburg made a judgment call about her health that didn't work out--and barely; she died four months before Trump left office. Anthony Kennedy, a supposed moderate justice who claimed to not want Roe v Wade to be overturned, retired in 2018, knowing full well Trump would replace him with someone who would overturn Roe v Wade. It was Kennedy's replacement, not Ginsburg's, that doomed Roe. The decision was 6-3. If Ginsburg had lived four more months, or retired in 2012 and been replaced with an Obama appointee, the Dobbs v Jackson decision would have been 5-4 in the same direction. Anthony Kennedy was replaced with Brett Kavanaugh, a white man who sobbed crocodile tears when confronted with credible allegations of sexual assault and ultimately faced no consequences. Anthony Kennedy let all of this happen and slunk off into his cushy retirement. Where is the anger for him? He's alive! Being angrier at Ginsburg than Kennedy makes absolutely no sense. There is no logic to explain it, only misogyny.

It doesn't escape my notice that the anger at Ginsburg goes hand-in-hand with blaming women for their own suffering as a result of the Dobbs decision and with blaming Hillary Clinton for the 2016 election, while making any excuse for not voting for her or deriding her for months. It's emblematic of a political system that does not care about women and despises women trying to speak up and make our issues known.

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts a Tiktok like, “If you are interest in someone, do not tell my husband. Steve is the worst person to tell. All he does is judge you and then criticize them.

Steve, off camera: That’s not true.

Eddie: It is true! Grant just - Grant, can I tell people this? …Cool - Grant just told us that him and his ex-wife have been talking about getting back together. And that’s great! A normal person would say ‘that’s great, man.’

Eddie: Not Steve. Steve’s response was ‘the ex that can’t cook for shit or the one with the big tits?’

Steve: It’s a valid question!

Eddie: Stevie, baby. When Robin told you she was a lesbian, the first thing you did was criticize the girl she had a crush on

Steve: Yeah, because she was a dud

Eddie: And when I told I loved for the first time, you winced at me like I was making a bad decision. You asked ‘why?’

Eddie: And i didn’t even say it first! You already said it a week before!!

Steve: I just think that you should have standards

Eddie: I do!

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

THIRD TRIMESTER

Word Count: 1.1K

Pairing(s): Reader x Rafe 

Warnings: Stress and anxiety during pregnancy

Summary: Rafe defends you, pregnancy stress causes emotional pain

The third trimester had come faster than you anticipated, and with it came a series of emotions, both overwhelming and beautiful. You were now heavily pregnant, your body changing in ways that made you feel like you were barely holding onto yourself, but all the while, Rafe was there, supporting you through every step. The two of you had recently moved into a new house, a small but cozy place where you could begin your life together as a family. It was everything you’d dreamed of—well, almost everything.

-

There was still the issue of Rafe’s father, who hadn’t made it easy on you. From the moment you found out you were pregnant, he’d been openly critical of your decision to start a family so young.

“I don’t know why you’d want to keep the baby. You’re barely out of high school,” his voice echoed in your mind as you sat on the couch in your new home, wrapping your arms around your belly. “And you think you’re ready to raise a child? Wait until you see what comes out of her, Rafe. She won’t even look the same, and it’s not like she’ll go back to being skinny after all that. You really want to deal with that?”

You could still feel the sting of his words, even now. It wasn’t the first time he’d said something hurtful about your pregnancy, but it always hit hard. Rafe had defended you every time, but it never seemed to be enough to quiet the doubts you had. His dad’s comments made you second-guess everything, even your own self-worth, even when you knew deep down it wasn’t true.

Rafe had been there, as always, but that didn’t stop the growing anxiety within you. Every time his father would make a comment, it would take everything inside you not to cry or snap back. But today, something inside you broke. You had been unpacking boxes when you overheard another comment from Rafe’s dad, and it sent you spiraling. You knew Rafe wasn’t home, so you found yourself collapsing on the couch in tears, holding your belly as your emotions threatened to take over.

Just as the pain of the words sank deeper, the door to the living room opened, and Rafe stepped in, looking concerned. His eyes softened as soon as he saw your face, tears streaking down your cheeks, your hands clutching your stomach in distress.

“Baby?” he whispered, kneeling down in front of you. “What happened?”

Through shaky breaths, you tried to explain. “I just... I just can’t take it anymore. He keeps saying I’m too young, and it’s like he doesn’t believe I can do this. He’s always saying that things are going to change after labor, that you won’t even look at me the same way... I feel like I’m not good enough for this baby.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched with anger, but his face softened as he gently cupped your face in his hands. “Listen to me, okay? You are everything I could ever need. You’re the mother of my child, and nothing—nothing—will change that. Not the way you look, not what happens after labor. You could go through the toughest thing in the world, and I would still love you with everything I have. Don’t let him get in your head.”

You looked into Rafe’s eyes, your heart aching at his words, but the anxiety and emotional turmoil didn’t subside. You couldn’t stop crying. You wanted to be strong, but everything just felt so heavy. The emotional strain was overwhelming, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get a grip on yourself.

Rafe’s protective instincts kicked in. His voice was steady but urgent as he pulled you into a tight embrace, rubbing your back soothingly. “It’s okay, baby. Take a few deep breaths. We’re okay. I’m here. The baby’s okay.”

But as you tried to steady your breathing, it felt impossible. You couldn’t calm down. The tears kept coming, and your chest tightened painfully. The stress had taken its toll, and you could feel it radiating through your body. Your heartbeat was erratic, and your baby seemed to be reacting too. The panic only deepened.

“I can’t breathe,” you gasped, clutching your chest, the pain intensifying. You were hyperventilating, tears streaming down your face. “Rafe, it hurts. I don’t know what to do.”

Rafe’s eyes widened in fear as he frantically grabbed his phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. It’s going to be okay, just stay with me.”

Within minutes, the paramedics arrived and rushed into the house. They assessed the situation quickly, asking questions and checking on both you and the baby. Rafe was by your side the whole time, holding your hand tightly, his face pale with worry.

Once you were in the ambulance, the pain started to subside, but your body still felt weak and shaky. The journey to the hospital felt long and suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep fear of what might be happening to you and the baby.

At the hospital, the doctors quickly ran tests, checking the baby’s heartbeat and your vitals. They explained that what you were experiencing was likely a panic attack, brought on by stress and the emotional pressure you had been under. It wasn’t something to be alarmed about, but they strongly advised you to stay calm in the coming weeks to prevent any further stress on the baby.

“You need to take care of yourself, both physically and emotionally,” the doctor said gently. “The next few weeks are crucial for both you and the baby. Stress can affect your health and the baby’s development. You need to avoid any situations that could increase that anxiety.”

Rafe was at your side, holding your hand tightly as the doctor finished speaking. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll make sure she’s calm. I’ll keep her safe.”

You felt the sincerity in his voice, and although you still felt a little shaken, hearing him promise to be there for you made everything feel a bit more manageable.

As you were discharged and brought back to your new home, Rafe stayed close, making sure to comfort you and help you get settled back on the couch. He insisted that you rest, assuring you that everything would be okay. You couldn’t help but smile faintly at his care, feeling more grateful than ever that he was by your side.

“Don’t worry about anything else, baby,” Rafe said softly as he kissed the top of your head. “We’re in this together. I won’t let anything happen to you or our little one.”

[fear-is-truth]

how do you think patrick will react when you try to break things off with him?

breaking up with patrick bateman .ᐟ.ᐟ

tw ; mentions of drug use, homicide

a/n: apologies for the word salad.. my brain is kinda fried from my classes. also he’s such a pretty crier

𝜗ϱ ┆ denial & gaslighting

his immediate reaction would likely be disbelief. the idea of someone rejecting him, particularly someone he views as an extension of his life, would be incomprehensible to him. this disbelief would manifest as condescension and dismissal, accompanied by gaslighting.

“you’re leaving me?” he’d say with a strained smile, eyes narrowing to slits. “that’s ridiculous. you don’t mean that.”

patrick wouldn’t process the emotional weight of your decision, instead assuming that you’re acting irrationally or that something external has influenced you. his need to maintain control would drive him to undermine your perspective, likely accusing you of being under the influence of drugs.

“have you been doing too much cocaine? or maybe those diet pills? you’re not thinking clearly, darling.”

this gaslighting would be less about convincing you and more about reinforcing his own denial. patrick lives in a world where his perception is reality, and your decision to leave disrupts that. denial is his first line of defense.

𝜗ϱ ┆ manipulation & desperation

as the conversation continues, patrick would pivot to emotional manipulation. while he lacks true empathy, he is an expert at imitating emotional responses to “fit in”. he’d beg you to reconsider, framing his argument that appeals to your sense of loyalty or guilt.

“think about everything i’ve done for you. everything we’ve had together. you can’t just walk away.”

if manipulation doesn’t work, his desperation would become more overt. while patrick is typically composed, cracks in his facade could begin to show. you might see a flash of raw panic in his eyes.

“you don’t know what you’re doing. you’re making a mistake.”

𝜗ϱ ┆ begging

patrick would eventually resort to begging, and this is where the irony comes in—remember the time he dumped evelyn with an air of theatrical superiority, telling her that she’s “simply not terribly important” to him.

“you can’t do this to me. please, don’t go. we can work this out—whatever this is, we can fix it. i’ll change.”

of course, he is incapable of real change, and his promises would ring hollow. but the desperation in his voice would feel oddly genuine.

𝜗ϱ ┆“i need to return some videotapes.”

when it becomes clear that he can’t sway you, patrick would retreat, unwilling to let you witness the full extent of his unraveling. maintaining appearances is critical, even in moments of personal crisis. with a curt, almost robotic tone, he’d excuse himself with his signature non sequitur:

“i need to return some videotapes.”

this statement, bizarre and out of place, serves two purposes. first, it allows him to escape the confrontation without completely breaking down in front of you. second, it reaffirms his facade of control.

𝜗ϱ ┆ private despair

once alone, patrick would no longer be able to hold himself together. the breakup would be a complete fracturing of his identity. while he outwardly projects confidence, his inner world is fragile and deeply insecure. your rejection would strip away the validation he relies on to maintain his ego. he’d cry—silent, bitter tears of frustration and humiliation.

𝜗ϱ ┆ homicide as a coping mechanism

but patrick is incapable of processing emotions in a healthy way, so the tears wouldn’t lead to introspection or change. instead, they’d fuel a darker spiral—he’d channel his feelings of loss into compulsive, destructive behaviour. violence is often an outlet for him, and your departure could serve as a catalyst for a spree of homicidal acts. (e.g killing homeless people)

[felassan]

David Gaider on Kieran, under a cut for length:

"CHARACTERS - DAY TWO: Kieran (Technically this is an addendum to yesterday, but I make the rules here so nyah!) Heading into DAI, I had a bite-sized problem on my hands. I knew Morrigan would feature. I also knew we were importing previous choices. So now I had to contend with: the Old God Baby. Here's the thing about honouring previous game choices, from a design perspective: it's a sucker's game. What many fans picture, when you mention it, is divergent *plot* -- the story changes path based on those major choices. How exciting! But you will never be able to deliver divergent plot. You can deliver flavour differences (usually in the form of divergent dialogue), character swaps (character X appears instead of Y), and extra content (such as a side quest) -- but plot branching, particularly the critical path? It's a question of resources, and there's never enough to go around. "Here Lies the Abyss" in DAI was about as good as it gets, and even that was a far cry from how I originally pictured it (hello last-minute insert of Stroud when a DAO Warden import got cut). The Old God Baby was one of the main choices from DAO -- Morrigan has a baby? With the Archdemon's soul?! Most DAO players who flagged that choice surely expected *monumental* consequences. World-shaking consequences! And we talked about it. We did. There were, like, three different designs of the DAI ending where OGB Kieran could cause complete divergence: new path, cutscenes, the whole nine yards. But it wasn't going to happen. It was a decision from *two games ago* that only a small minority (hello telemetry) would even choose. To the rest, they probably neither knew about it nor cared... so how many resources could you invest? To do what? Set up an even bigger divergence for the NEXT game? The other writers acknowledged my anxiety with a grim nod every time it came up, but they had no solutions. Finally, I realized there WAS a solution, and that was changing how I thought about the choice: don't make it about Kieran. The players don't know him, never have. Make it about Morrigan. Thus began a feverish three days where I wrote probably the most complicated scene of my career: Morrigan's reckoning with Flemeth in DAI and the fallout after. Three different versions (OGB Kieran, non-OGB Kieran, and no Kieran), each with branching for other choices (like the Well of Sorrows). I did it all at once. There was no other way to wrap my head around the complexity of it. It was also a tough sell to the team, considering the amount of cinematics work, but they agreed we had to do *something*. And still it felt... underwhelming, insofar as divergence goes. But it was also good. I remember when I first spoke with Claudia, about how this was Morrigan's story. This was about how motherhood had changed her, how she'd grown up. Claudia got a bit teary-eyed. It was a journey she was familiar with, she said. Her first son, Odin, had been born in 2005 not long after DAO came out. And, man, she killed with that performance! Kate, too, but I'll get to her later. Claudia dug down, and that scene where Morrigan tells Flemeth she'll never be the mother Flemeth was to her? That came from someplace very raw. It was devastating to witness in the booth. There were tears all around. Not long after, Claudia called and asked if maybe - just maybe - Odin could play Kieran? He was a bit young (not yet 5, then), but it felt... right? We agreed. Claudia was in the booth, gently coaching him through his lines, and I think that was the first moment I felt I'd done the right thing."

[source thread]

User: "Do you find it an odd choice that Kieran hasn’t been mentioned at all in Veilguard?" David Gaider: "If there’s less reactivity in DATV, I’m unsurprised. Continuing choice from up to 3 games earlier is… unsupportable. Yet DA established the expectation they would so… damned if you do, damned if you don’t?" [source]

User: "EA is one of the biggest game companies ever. I don't think more complex diverging plots are impossible." David Gaider: "Well, if only more writing was all it took. Sadly, it's also cinematics. Art time for all those reappearing characters you probably want to look *just* right. And let's not forget we have to test all those permutations! So I don't disagree with you in spirit, but I don't think it's the answer here." [source]

User: "is there a possibility of future kieran appearances in a book or something similar outside of the games?" David Gaider: "I'd have no way of knowing that." [source]

User: "I’m actually shocked so little people chose the dark ritual. That was basically the main reason Flemeth sent Morrigan with the wardens, no?" David Gaider: "The impression you get of what "most" players do - in almost any game, not just DA - is very different if you're online a lot. Consider here that it's not just the % of DAO players who chose the Dark Ritual, it's the % of DAI players WHO PLAYED DAO and cared to import that choice 5 years later." [source]

User: "Is there anything you wish you had done differently, in hindsight?" David Gaider: "Probably just to not ever do importing choices between games in the first place." [source]

User: "Kieran only existed in my DAI state b/c Morrigan as a mother really appealed to me. I wasn't expecting to be devastated by those scenes 😭 I guess when we complain about lack of consequences from prev choices in DAV we must also ask how MUCH are we willing to pay for those branches to exist?" David Gaider: "That's indeed it. Content directed towards reactivity would have to come from somewhere else. So essentially a shorter game overall for the sake of those hardcore fans who'd import - who would, I imagine, REALLY enjoy that... but it's a tough cost/benefit analysis to make." [source]

User: "mr gaider im gonna keep it real with you if i had to choose between my hof and hawke i would've simply passed away" David Gaider: "Right? That was the ENTIRE idea! I was very excited, and for a while it seemed possible." [source]

User: "This has been a very interesting read but I have to ask why they decided to use Stroud instead of the HoF" David Gaider: "1) Complexity of providing means for a player to build a Warden (which they did in DATV for the Inquisitor). Also spoiled the surprise. 2) We’d have needed to give the Warden a voice. Add these to the cost and it was deemed not worth it." [source]

User: "Genuine question, not a critique - but what made the OGB decision one that couldn't be handwaved as canon no matter what was or wasn't chosen? Leliana and Flemeth being around no matter what come to mind. Was OGB simultaneously too major and too minor of a decision?" David Gaider: "Flemeth and Leliana being alive were easily explainable, and we knew we were doing it even back then. Circumventing the Dark Ritual… that would be too cheap. We did talk about it, but it just felt too dishonest. Too high a price for what we’d get in return." [source]

David Gaider: "If I’d known the Well of Sorrows would only see reactivity in the confrontation with Flemeth, I’d probably have made a much bigger deal of it." [source]

David Gaider: "We could maybe have gotten past the need to "reconstruct" the Warden, much like the Inquisitor was reconstructed in DATV (so I understand), but the need to give the Warden a voice was the final nail. Too potentially disappointing for the very people who'd be excited about it, aside from the cost." [source]

[always-just-red]

Heya! Rafayel with a reader who's slightly afraid of deep water because she doesn't know how to swim? Fluff please!

Thanks for the request! Hoping this is the perfect balance of heartfelt moments and utter silliness. It's Raf, after all! Gotta have fun with it! ❤

Practice Makes Perfect

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: "I'll teach you how to swim!" he said. "It'll be fun!" he said. Let's be honest: the warning signs were there from the very start.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, one instance of swearing, a mild panic attack, humour, Raf bullies you ('out of love!!'— his words, not mine 🙃)

| Word count: 2.3k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel, can you stop that? Please?”

You watch as Rafayel bobs around in the water in front of you. “Swimming?” he asks, pushing slick hair back from his forehead with a lazy smile. “Nah. I’d drown.”

“No, I—” you suck in a sharp breath to keep yourself from wasting it. He knows exactly what you meant. He knows what he’s doing, too: making everything look effortless when you can’t even get out of the stupid boat.

It tips you a little closer towards the ocean, as if responding to your criticisms. You’re done with this. Done with him. Swimming lessons with Rafayel had seemed such a promising idea a few months ago, but now? You’re thinking it would have been better to go it alone. If you’d have drowned, you’d have at least drowned in peace.

He calls his teaching style ‘motivational’, which is to say he spends every lesson trying to motivate you to lunge at him, regardless of your personal safety. It was funny at the local pool. It’s less funny here, on a rickety boat in a deserted bay, where the only witnesses to your demise would be a setting sun and an insufferably smug Lemurian.

You glance up, seeking the familiar half-oceans of his eyes. They’re taunting you to the point of distraction: heating the blood in your veins that had just been running cold. Look at me, they gloat, alive with shimmering reflections, you’re mad at me, remember? 

And they have a point. You are. “Stop showing off.”

“Can’t help it.” Dark water laps at the pale of his collarbone. “It’s just so easy.”

“Says the actual mermaid.”

“Merman!”

“Oh whatever!”

He pouts. Then he strokes his chin thoughtfully. “I was worried about this,” he muses, as if he has actually masterminded a teaching plan, and hasn’t just been winging it from the start. He clicks his fingers, signalling a lightbulb moment. “Lucky for you, your super duper swimming teacher came prepared. Check my bag!”

He sinks until he’s peering out from the water, the lower half of his face submerged so you can’t see his smile. You can, though; it’s obvious. You roll your eyes and take the bait because it’s better than sitting here questioning your life decisions and your own mortality. Your hands rifle through his bag until they stumble upon something unusual. Smooth. Plastic. Is this what he meant?

You pull the package out into the evening light, narrowing your eyes.

Inflatable arm bands. Brand new. A toddler beams at you from their cover, seemingly thrilled by its extra buoyancy, and its parents are watching on with unbridled pride. You tilt your head as you read: suitable for ages 2-5! “Not funny, Raf. Not funny at all.”

“What d’you mean?” You flash the photo at him, tapping the toddler’s face. “Yeah? What about it?”

“These are for kids! You’re making fun of me now? Really?”

“No…” His hand leaves the water to scratch at the back of his head. “I thought that was a suggestion? It was kinda confusing, actually. You humans have such weird stuff to help you swim.”

“Oh don’t you dare play the Lemurian card right now!” you seethe, in the middle of retrieving an arm band from the packaging. “You knew! I know you did.”

Set on making your point, you blow air into the arm band’s nozzle. It’s so infuriatingly small; it takes all of three breaths to fill it. “I mean, look at it!” you exclaim, holding it out to him.

He barely keeps his act together. “I think it’s, like… stretchy, yeah?” His bottom lip is caught between his teeth: he’s biting back laughter. “Try it on, maybe it’ll—”

Smack! The arm band hits the water in front of him, and he blinks down at it, shocked.

“Wooooow,” he enthuses sarcastically, “nice throw! I bet the Wanderers just run for the hills when they see you comin—”

Thwack! Another half-inflated arm band strikes his face, and he reels backwards.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re so full of it, Rafayel!” you can’t help leaning towards him, and the rowboat lurches. You clutch at the side of it, but you’ve had enough. “Ugh. Screw it.”

Your adrenaline is lurching too, and you make the most of the momentum: taking a deep breath and swinging your legs over the boat’s side. The chill of the ocean steals that breath away as you lower yourself into it. You’re going slowly, so slowly, your fingers still latched to the boat. But this is… something. You’re in the water. Oh gods you’re in the water. Don’t think about it. Don’t.

“Raf…” you squeak, because how can you not think about it when it’s cold and around your neck?

“I’m here,” he reassures from behind you, and he’s not close, but he’s close enough.

You look at him over your shoulder, gently tugging at the boat until you’re afforded a better view. He chuckles as he flicks the offending arm bands back into it: a calculated arc that sprinkles saltwater over your head. You wince, but you don’t mind.

“You just gonna… hang out there, then?” Rafayel enquires as you wipe a stray droplet from your eye.

“Yep.”

“Nice,” he grins, and it’s weirdly sincere. “Kinda wish you were over here, though.”

“Yeah?” You don’t move.

“I miss you.”

“Aww.”

You’re still not moving, but it doesn’t crush the embers of amusement that glow within his eyes. He’s thinking up ways to drive you crazy again, you just know it. “You could totally make it over here if you wanted,” he says flippantly. “It’s just swimming. If jellyfishes can do it, you definitely can.”

What? What? “They’re sea creatures!”

“Yeah, but they’re soooo stupid.” He taps his head. “No brains, y’know?”

You turn to the boat, pulling yourself impossibly closer to it. “Raf, c’mere,” you beckon, reaching back to him— grabbing at air.

“Why?” He draws nearer.

“So I can hit you.”

You swing a hand at him, but he dodges it, laughing. “If you wanna hit me, you have to reach me.”

There’s movement in the corner of your eye, so you twist to see it. His thumbs and forefingers have met as a square; he’s making a viewfinder. “What are you doing?” you speak from inside the frame.

“Making sure I remember this. I think I’ll paint it.” A corner of his lips lifts as he reveals a prospective title: “Cutie braves shark-infested waters.”

“Sharks?!”

“Who said anything about sharks?”

He’s messing with you— you know he’s messing with you— but you hide your face against your arms, all the same. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stifle your senses and your spiralling thoughts. You’re feeling everything too keenly: the water licking at your throat, the darkness beneath you, around you, waiting to pull you under and fill your mouth.

You never feel further from Rafayel than when you remember he calls that darkness home.

“Rafayel?” you call out, because you need him to tell you you’re being ridiculous. You need him to laugh with you, at you— you don’t care so long as you can hear it.

The only sound is water, and it’s cold and dispassionate.

“…Rafayel?” You glance behind you, and he isn’t there.

What do you do? What do you do? Your mind is in contest with your heart; they’re both trying to see who can race faster. You still can’t move. Shit. What can you do?

“Hey.” Rafayel’s voice makes you jump. He’s next to you all of a sudden, water streaming down from his hair and running over his shoulders. He rests an arm on the boat, too. “I’m here, ok? I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

Breathe? “Don’t do that!” you force out of aching lungs, and then your mouth is trying to catch up with the rest of you. “I thought something happened to you! What if something did happen to you? I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t help you. What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he cuts in. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes are watering and he’s so close, but it’s not enough. You reach out, pulling him, urging him to close the distance, and he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. You can feel the heat of his breath and it’s deep, slow: one, two. One. Two. You hold him until you can match it, and almost everything’s still— the ocean, your mind— but not your heart.  

The waves break softly against the boat and they’re breathing with him, too.

“You ok?” Rafayel murmurs. His wet hair is clinging to your skin.

“Yeah,” you sigh.  

He pulls away and gives you a smile. “Wanna know what I’m thinking about?”

Always.  

“The claw machine,” he continues, because it was, as you suspected, a rhetorical question. “Remember that time you took, like, a hundred goes to get that one plushie? We were there for, what— an hour? Maybe two?”

You sniffle, and you’re just leaning on the boat, now— not gripping it. “That’s because it was a peach blossom birb, Raf. They’re super rare.” Another sniffle. “And the only reason I got it is because you kept buying more tokens.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Because I knew you’d get it eventually. Just like I know you’re gonna get this. We’ve got all the tokens in the world, yeah? So it’s just like before. One go at a time.”

His gaze is full of faith, and you want to be worthy of it. “One go at a time,” you repeat. “Thanks, Raf. Really.” You tilt towards him again, set on kissing his cheek, but he swerves away like it’s another attack.  

“Nuh-uh.” He propels himself backwards. “You wanna kiss me? You gotta meet me out here, cutie.”

And he’s so far already. “C’mon, Raf,” you whine.

“C’mon yourself! Look at me!” He runs a hand through his hair— beads of water sliding and sparkling across his skin. “I’m a total catch.”

“More like catch of the day when I get my hands on you.”

“Cute,” he quips, treading water. “You gonna come get me then, or what?”

You eye up the distance between you. You’re willing yourself to cross it; it won’t be good, it won’t be graceful, but you can do it, right? You just have to go for it. Three. Two. One… Go!

Nothing happens. Rafayel laughs quietly, and it’s warm— so passionate.  

“Here,” he says, meeting you in the middle. He holds out his hand.

You can’t trust the boat; it rocks beneath your touch and at the behest of every wave. It is just a thing, like you, at the mercy of something so much bigger than itself. Not Rafayel, though. He’s a part of all this, maybe even the heart of all this. The ocean will not betray him. It needs him to beat for it. To bleed.

Your hand grasps his and you let him guide you into the open water. You’re borrowing him. Stealing him, if only for a moment. He isn’t living for his ocean right now— he’s looking at you. Just you. There are canvases back in his studio, awash with cerulean waves and his love for Lemuria, but there are sketchbook pages, too: you, asleep on his couch. You, with a lily in your hair.

A few days from now, there’ll be a new one, etched eagerly in dark pencil. This.  

Rafayel smiles as you tread water with him. Your movements are clumsy, half-frantic, but you’re keeping yourself afloat. He gives you time to adjust, to find some semblance more of a natural rhythm, but your muscles ache and you’re getting tired, so he draws your arms around his neck.

“What d’you think?” he asks, because you’ve captured him. “Better than a beach bottom bird, right?”

“A peach blossom birb,” you giggle into his shoulder.

“Yeah, that too.”

…

The sky is full of stars, and the sun has sunk behind the wine-dark horizon.  

Rafayel rests his chin on his arms, staring down into the ocean from the edge of the boat, and he’s deep, deep below those waters too. You don’t have to see his eyes to know the faraway look they’re harbouring. There’s nostalgia for all the things he cannot show you. Grief. Rage. Regret.

He thinks you don’t see it, but you do. Especially on nights like this, when the azures of the waves turn black beneath the moon, and they could just as well be blood-red.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Rafayel.”

You’re not sure what compels you to say it, but he glances up at you, his gaze a brief storm of turquoise before settling to its usual amethyst. “Waiting for you?” he asks warily.

“To get all of this swimming stuff. I know it must seem silly to you.”

He relaxes, sitting up straight with a smirk. “Most of what you do seems silly to me. Not this, though. Change can be… scary sometimes.”

“Yeah.”

He slouches back down, but he’s on his side this time— still looking at you. “What made you decide you wanna swim, anyway?”

You mirror him, laying your head against the boat’s edge. “I don’t know. I guess—” waves are sloshing beneath you— “I guess it’s because the sea is a part of you. It’s in your paintings, your stories, and I’ve always felt… disconnected from it. Like it’s fiction— something I could only ever hear about second-hand. But I want to feel it for myself. To know it. All of it. All of you.”  

With a sigh, you give your hand to the ocean and draw mindless shapes in the water. Rafayel watches. You both know you’re only touching the surface.

He smiles, bittersweet. “Wanna go home?” he says.

Home. You pull your hand out of the water and smile back.

It’s been a long day. Yeah, you wanna go home.

[lunar-years]

Haymitch and Peeta's relationship matters sooo much to me actually and I do not think we talk about it enough! Considering Haymitch's reluctance to allow himself to care about anyone at the start of the trilogy, it's remarkable how quickly he lets both these kids in. A big part of it is just that he actually put effort into mentoring them, of course, which necessitates getting to know them a little, which is something he hasn't let himself do with any of his tributes for years (and that's really all it takes, isn't it, getting to know them a little is all it takes to start caring about them, because despite everything the big heart Haymitch had as a 16 year old is still beating somewhere inside him somewhere, no matter how hard he's tried to beat it down). But it's not just that. After all, he wouldn't have put effort into mentoring them if it hadn't been for who Katniss and Peeta are as people. They're his pair of fighters.

Despite the new info about Burdock in SOTR, I do not think that alone was enough get Haymitch to start caring as a mentor, nor do I think it really contributes all that much, actually, to his decision to "choose" Katniss over Peeta in the first games. Obviously he cares that this is Burdock's daughter, but in the end it's really just that Katniss flat out has a better chance of winning, and Haymitch knows it. So he picks Katniss.

...Then they both make it out. And back in the Victor's Village, Katniss has her family to watch over and everything that's going on between her and Gale. She's got plenty keeping her busy. But Peeta is alone, like Haymitch. His family doesn't ever seem to come visit. He and Katniss aren't really speaking. Suddenly this kid is dropping off bread in Haymitch's kitchen every morning and coming by to eat meals, this great kid who shouldn't be alone, but is seemingly nonetheless alone, because why else would he constantly be there? It's been a long time since Haymitch has been the best someone's got. After that realization, how can he help but open himself up a bit further? Cleave open a crack in the fortifications he's built up around his heart?

Then...the Quell. And Haymitch is denied even the chance to volunteer to die in Peeta's place. He has to find a more complicated, creative way to save the both of them. Because at this point I don't think it's fair to say Haymitch chooses Katniss again over Peeta. It's largely out of his hands. Plutarch, the narrative, the rebellion, all of them have already chosen Katniss over Peeta for him. So Haymitch has to resort to making his separate promises to both of them, and trying his best to stay true to those promises, even when they seem diametrically opposed.

I imagine Haymitch is doing a lot of maneuvering behind the scenes at the beginning of Catching Fire, first to get all the other tributes to be willing to die not only for Katniss (who is the established priority of the plan), but for Peeta too. The explanation later given is "well they all knew you'd fall to pieces if Peeta died, Katniss, so they had to keep him alive to keep you going along with them" but... is that even strictly true? Do most of the tributes *actually* believe that? Finnick doesn't. He straight up tells Katniss later that he didn't, not until he actually witnessed Katniss' reaction when Peeta collided with the force field. I have to conclude he's not the only one who had serious doubts about Peeta and Katniss' ~love~. Yet somehow all these people go into Games willing to save Peeta over themselves and a bunch of other people they've known a lot longer, when Peeta isn't even the one labeled as critical to the Revolution. Why is that? Because Haymitch somehow convinces them it's important. That there's at least some validity to Katniss being inconsolable and uncontrollable if Peeta dies, even if they don't believe in the love story itself.

The first part of Haymitch's plan is convincing the other tributes Peeta also needs to be kept alive, and the second part is making sure Peeta is in the right place at the moment of rescue. This is revealed when Haymitch and Katniss confront one another in Mockingjay about Peeta's capture: "How could you not save him?" "How could you let him out of your sight?" Haymitch was banking on Katniss and Peeta refusing to leave one another's side in the arena. It's obviously a dicey gamble, given the unpredictability of the Games and the fact that he's keeping the rebellion a secret from them entirely, but it's kind of where Haymitch has to place all his hopes. Let Plutarch and the others prioritize Katniss, and do everything in his power to make sure Peeta still gets rescued, anyway. It doesn't work, but he does try to keep his promises to both of them. He loves them both the same amount!

I also think it's notable that pre-highjacking, Peeta never genuinely blames Haymitch for choosing Katniss over him in the first games. He only throws it back in Haymitch's face when he's particularly angry at him about something else (as in Eleven's Justice Building on the Victory Tour, when he's made about Haymitch & Katniss keeping secrets from him) or when he's using it as leverage (his bargaining chip to get Haymitch to save Katniss in the Quell). Peeta doesn't blame him, but Haymitch does blames himself, for a long time after. And even though he didn't strictly choose Katniss in the Quell, he blames himself for that, too. That Peeta was taken.

So Haymitch is the one visiting highjacked Peeta everyday in the hospital, and the one keeping tabs on his recovery to relay to Katniss when she refuses to get involved directly. He's the one on the phone begging her to remember their promise to try and save Peeta! I wonder if at the end of Mockingjay, a part of him feels a bit guilty for accompanying Katniss back to Twelve. Obviously he knows there's not really any choice, Katniss does need him more than Peeta in that moment, she can't be sent off on her own. Peeta needs to stay in the Capitol to get the best care, and Katniss is the one who's the least stable. Still, it must feel a bit like he's leaving Peeta behind...again. The boy nobody was able to be there for at his least stable. This boy who's never been anyone's top option or first choice, not until Katniss catches up to her heart (and even that's something that's so tangled nowHaymitch doesn't even want to poke at it.) So he goes home with Katniss but it's still all wrong. Half his family is still missing.

It must come as such a relief when Peeta finally comes home.

[ghsface]

Not sure if you are taking request but can we get an angst with Matt where like reader and him are dating for years but recently comments have been getting to her or people have been following her home and eventually she decideds to break up with Matt but Matt takes things to in his hands where he’s tells ppl to stop and they get back together?(Lol sorry if it didn’t make sense but thank you)

𝜗𝜚 new messege .ᐟ.ᐟ

Hey gorgeous, I really liked this idea, I hope you like it too.

You are the only thing I want - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You and Matt had a secret relationship and when you decide to make it public everything goes wrong...

Warnings: angst hate messages towards reader, this is just angst with a happy ending

A/n: Leave me ideas to write in my inbox because I'm running out of ideas. I'm sorry if something is misspelled or not understood. My first language is not English. By the way, what do you think of my new theme, in my opinion, it's very cute like the baby pink and light brown. 🩷🧸

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

It had been exactly fourteen months since the first time you and Matt kissed. You hadn't imagined then how important he would become in your life, nor that being with him would be so complicated. Because, although you adored each other and the bond between you grew every day, that relationship had to be kept secret. It was a mutual decision, made for practical reasons. At first, the thrill of secrecy made everything more exciting. But now, you both felt exhausted.

You had spent too many nights talking secretly in the car, dates arranged down to the last detail so as not to be seen, or moments of solitude where, instead of shouting to the world how much you loved each other, you had to hide it like a forbidden secret. The situation was starting to weigh on you.

That night, you were on the couch at Matt's house. He was holding you, and your head was resting on his shoulder while you felt his fingers playing with the strands of your hair.

"Aren't you tired of this?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him, searching his eyes for what he really wanted to say.

"What are you talking about?"

"About having to hide… about not being able to tell anyone how amazing you are." Matt smiled, but his eyes reflected a sadness that you shared.

"Of course I'm tired. Sometimes I wish we could be a normal couple".

"Then let's do it", he suggested, giving your hand a squeeze. "Let's make it public. I don't care what others say. I want to be with you, and I want everyone to know it."

The idea made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The love you had for Matt was bigger than any fear, and the fact that he was willing to share your relationship with his fans made you feel special. You decided to announce it on social media.

When Matt uploaded the first photo of the two of you together, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The image showed an intimate moment, a selfie of the two smiling on the beach, with the sunset in the background. The caption was simple but powerful: “Over a year together, and we’re just getting started.”

For the first few hours, the response was overwhelmingly positive. There were comments from fans congratulating and supporting them: “They look beautiful together,” “Finally someone makes Matt happy as he deserves,” “What a great couple they make!”

But over time, other types of messages began to appear. “Her? Is he really with her?”, “She’s not enough for him,” “She’s only with him for fame, I’m sure she’ll use him to become famous,” “Poor Matt, he deserves someone better.”

At first, you tried not to take them seriously. But every time you checked your phone, more of those comments appeared. There were people criticizing your appearance: “She’s too basic for someone like him,” “She’s not even pretty, how dare she date Matt?”, “Matt deserves someone more attractive.”

The words cut you deeply. You knew you shouldn’t let those comments affect you, but you couldn’t stop the doubts from starting to poison your mind. Every time you looked in the mirror, you started to see those flaws that others mentioned. Insecurity began to invade you in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

Matt tried to comfort you whenever he noticed you looking down. Sometimes, during the night, he would catch you reading the comments on your phone, and he would simply take the phone away from you and hold you, whispering that he loved you and that was all that mattered.

“You don’t need to listen to those people, babe,” he said, looking at you with a sincere expression. “They don’t know anything about you, they don’t know how amazing you are.”

The comments didn’t stop, though. Every day they became crueler and crueler. Rumors began to circulate suggesting that you were only with Matt to gain followers, or that you were using his fame to make yourself known. People commented on every aspect of your life, from how you dressed to how you looked without makeup. There were those who said things like, “It’s obvious that she dresses like that to get attention, can’t she dress up better?” or “She should thank Matt for giving her a chance, she’s just an ordinary girl.”

At some point, comments were no longer the only thing. People started following you home, taking photos of you without your permission, and even trying to get close to you to ask you invasive questions. You felt watched and judged at every turn, and little by little, you started to believe that you weren't enough, that maybe all those people were right.

The pressure began to be unbearable. Your self-esteem plummeted, and every time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone who, according to the world, wasn’t enough. Matt tried to cheer you up, to remind you how much he loved you, but you couldn’t stand it anymore.

One night, after one of your most difficult conversations, you asked him to meet you. Matt came over to your house, and as soon as you saw him, he knew something was wrong. He stared at you in silence as you searched for the words to say to him.

“Matt… I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“What are you saying?” he asked, frowning, clearly worried.

“I can’t be in this relationship anymore. The pressure, the comments… they’re tearing me apart. I can’t take it anymore.

Matt looked at you, unable to process what you were saying. He was trying to understand, but the pain in your eyes made it clear to him that you were really hurt.

“But… I love you, and I don’t care what other people think. They don’t understand what we have.”

“I know, Matt. I know you love me, but I can’t go on like this. I’m losing myself in all of this.” It's getting harder and harder to get up and pretend everything is okay.

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your tears. “Matt… I can’t keep going like this. I can’t handle the pressure, the comments, the people following me everywhere. I feel like I’m losing myself, and I don’t want to drag you into this. I think… I think it’s best that we break up.”

The goodbye was hard and heartbreaking for both of us. In the days that followed, Matt stayed away from social media, not mentioning anything about what had happened. He isolated himself, trying to understand how the love of his life had to walk away because of the cruelty of others.

Weeks went by as you tried to get over the situation, even though you felt empty. However, one afternoon, while you were checking your social media, you noticed a post from Matt that surprised you.

It was a photo of you and him that Nick had taken, and the message was clear and direct: “I don't give a shit what others say about my girlfriend. I'm with her because I love her, and that's never going to change.”

Matt's public statement was not only a message to his fans, but a promise that he was willing to stand up for what they had. Feeling a torrent of emotions, you decided to call him. When he answered, his voice trembled with emotion.

"I can't go on without you" he said quietly, while you tried to hold back your tears.

"Me neither, Matt… I love you."

That night, they met again, and between tears and hugs, they knew that this time there would be nothing and no one that could separate.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

⤷ Tags... @matthewsroses @sophand4n4 @strnilolover @lolastrniolo

[lightnersdream-archive]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[astral-herald]

arcane, populism, and why viktor is the odd one out (yet again)

as a piltover-anti, a silco criticizer, and a pacifist, i am very very interested in how arcane presents not just the political undertones of both topside and the undercity, but the characters/dialogue through which they communicate those undertones. allow me to use some political science bro lingo to air out some thoughts.

long, long post incoming.

there are 2 ideological struggles at war throughout s1 (and i can predict that the struggle will carry over into s2): neoliberalism and populism - in their broadest terms since we're talking ofc about a fictional show dealing with surface level political machinations. by neoliberalism, i mean a focus on the social, political, and cultural structures of a polity (piltover, for our purposes) refocused into a strictly economic vacuum. and by populism i mean a unifying belief that the existing political systems of a polity fail to adequately represent their constituents, so the masses choose to rally around a specific gripe or issue, i.e., class discrimination, xenophobia toward immigrants, etc. this, in turn, forms a populist party or movement. an applicable example i can think of would be Nasser's Egypt in the 1950s.

*i know these are weighty topics with very real world implications! i just want to separate the theory to apply to our favorite fictional world.

the political struggle in question is put forward immediately by piltover, who, though presented as a technocratic state, embodies crucial neoliberal ideals emphasized especially by up-and-coming counilor mel medarda, much like how fresh-eyed american economists blew up the economic scene in the 1980s with a revival of capitalist, free market enterprise. take how she seizes the advent of hextech, for example:

she quickly sees hextech's potential yet not from the solely intellectual standpoint that jayce and viktor do - for her, it is profitable, literally and in terms of international relations. her goal is for piltover to prosper, but she has no rose-colored glasses on; prosperity means capital gain, and she's willing to override piltover's political and social systems to achieve her goal. an important caveat is that she draws the line at ambessa medarda's progression into militant authoritarianism, which deserves a whole post of its own!

piltover's populism moment will come later. first, let's unpack silco, who is probably arcane's most blatantly political figure, and a masterclass in the merits and failures of left wing, class-based populism.

silco, having been spurned by the classism and xenophobia that piltover's elite proliferate, and assisted by his rampant shimmer operation, fills the vacuum that vander's pacifism opened up. though silco's methods are unilaterally cruel (argue with the wall), the undercity clearly invested faith in him at some point, especially as vander's credibility as a guiding figure wavered over the years. he was fighting alongside vander for zaun's right to exist as their own independent body. in other words, he was uniting the undercity toward a common cause because the existing political system failed their constituents. to quote councilor shoola: "they may not be our preferred constituents, but they're still our people."

the track record of populism in our real world frequently ends in the ruin that silco himself brought upon the undercity. the kingpin is too dedicated to self-preservation, sees himself as too central to the movement, which prevents both compromise and/or a necessary armed revolt (insert your own politics about self-determination here). see italy's right wing populism party, Lega Nord, as a real-time example of this phenomenon.

but arcane makes an interesting plot decision with jayce, a very unexpected and "unwilling" contributor to piltover's abrupt dip into right wing populism. the showrunners love foils!

in arcane lore, i think it's safe to say that jayce's moniker "the man of progress" is pretty tongue-in-cheek. both he and viktor have a bemused tone about it in the run-up to his speech, and jayce is taken aback by heimerdinger's insistence that he deliver said speech. but the glowing, savior-esque imagery can't be ignored, nor can jayce's quick switch into his councilor role, no matter how reluctantly he makes it.

jayce is confronted by 2 forces that he seeks to combat in his quick tenure as councilor: internal corruption and an ineffective governing body. the latter goal is inspired almost solely by viktor, playing into jayce's naivety as a fresh-faced political figure, but this will be especially important to note later on. the innocence he offers up to mel is quickly erased, transformed instead into an uncomfortable - and inexperienced - militancy:

important in the bridge scene to my analysis is the populist "out group," or the designation populists give to those whom they actively oppose, and this opposition serves as their basis for organization. in this case, it's the undercity (keep this in mind for viktor's role!!).

jayce's combined frustrations at the unrest in the undercity and the council's (namely heimerdinger's) refusal to act, to both save viktor and to deal with the undercity's looming violence, motivates him to act like silco for a short time. unsatisfied with the status quo, he unites a likeminded individual, vi, along with the enforcers, to undercut the political system he feels is unable to represent its constituents or act in an effective manner. however, UNLIKE silco, jayce's realizes the inevitable cost the method of violence has and refrains in the end. he returns to the council and capitulates to some of silco's demands in the name of a peace piltover and zaun always thought impossible.

jinx's complete undoing of this underscores the failures of populism, especially as an extended movement over time. she wasn't accounted for. it's common sentiment at this point that she didn't attack the council for political gain. she was not invested in zaun's independence. she did it out of her and silco's twisted parental bond, and thus undid piltover's brief instance of compromise and compassion.

so...where does viktor fit into all this? and what are his implications for neoliberalism vs. populism in season 2?

viktor is neither wholly within nor wholly outside the populist outgroup - though jayce unintentionally shoves him back there in the pivotal bridge scene. furthermore, viktor also makes use of piltover's technocracy. he seems to have had a "raise yourself up by your bootstraps" history in arcane, contrary to left wing populist insistence that neoliberal ideals make this impossible.

this compounds as a double alienation for viktor, who also is straddled with the complications of his disability. a lot of his story is searching for a fellow in arms, if you ask me, and he had that with jayce until the pendulum swung, hence his return to singed.

if we stop there, viktor represents the failing of these 2 very flawed political ideologies. he fits nowhere and arcane uses him adeptly as a symbol of the failings of binaristic ideologues and systems. but let's speculate some more!

i'm convinced that viktor, due to his ambiguous 3rd party role in the story so far, will be one of the central villains (if not THE villain, if you allow me to be admittedly hopeful/biased) in season 2. consult the innumerable very well written theory/meta posts about the subject for more details, but one piece of evidence i want to focus on is this inherent physical, cultural, and ideological separateness that is innate to his character.

can we see him allying ever again with piltover, knowing that there's a split incoming? even without outside knowledge of league lore, singed's damning prediction ("if you take this path, they will despise you") cannot go unheeded. alternatively, then, can we see viktor allying with the supposed jinx-as-revolutionary side? no. personally, i see him as becoming increasingly unwillingly to compromise his a) immediate survival; and b) his ideals, especially after being endlessly sidelined in his attempts to express them in acts 2 and 3. he's also just a loner, guys.

there's some controversy on this point, but i'm convinced that the finger-printed cultists/followers we saw in the s2 trailer are devoted to viktor. starting with the shimmer addict he touched in the teaser, he is accruing a following all his own. and since noxus is here, touting their authoritarian militancy to replace piltover's outdated liberal ideals, nothing that jinx's revolution OR viktor's following does can be apolitical. to organize and to fight is survival under s2's raised stakes.

there aren't any binary spectrums when it comes to political theory in my opinion, so i am prepared to witness viktor introduce an entirely separate totalitarian narrative into arcane. where it will surely lack in militancy, it will make up for in its domination of the arcane. my biggest speculation is that, as they always do, piltover will fold and compromise at the last minute, perhaps yield to noxus, and invest wholeheartedly in taking down viktor's BBEG cultist regime. and by isolating his narrative repeatedly in s1, the writers planned this out expertly.

even if i'm wrong about viktor as third party, i like to think my observations still stand about the specific and qualifiable political divisions between piltover and zaun. the biggest hole this leaves for me is the question: will arcane ever take a stand? they seem very averse to making a blatant political statement, but i think their pervasive anti-police thread makes it clear that we're not meant to sympathize with piltover yuppies or their seasoned, jaded councilmen. let me know your thoughts!

also, as a jayce fan and a fan of arcane's overall story, none of this is meant as a CRITIQUE of him, mel, or silco. as silco said, "we all have our parts to play." i believe arcane's very greatest strength is their archetypal storytelling, and these distinct character roles are crucial to the success and vibrancy of the story.

if you read all the way to this point - ily <3