#event setup and execution

[lemon-leaf-events]

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[herenvibing]

cr3 is gonna end and the pc’s still feel like the same people to me :|

(crcritical content in the tags feel free to skip)

[pinksilvace]

.

[soapysoapysoapysoapy]

The file dropped into Ghost’s hands by accident.

Wrong data stream. A legacy terminal still syncing classified logs from a burned CIA server in Munich. He wasn’t even looking for it. But the name stopped him cold.

“Lockjaw – Subject 09” “Adler, R. – Directorial Override” “Post-maternal death trauma event: Execute Tier-Zero Memory Cleanse.”

He didn’t believe it. Not at first. But the DNA tag confirmed it.

Father: Russell Adler Daughter: [REDACTED]

He sat with it for three hours before saying a word.

You were cleaning your sidearm when he approached—calm, surgical, still humming something low and tuneless under her breath.

Ghost dropped the file onto the table in front of you. Didn’t speak.

You looked at it. Then at him. “What is this?”

“Your past.”

You froze. Slowly peeled open the file. Skimmed. Then stopped. Then stared.

“No.”

Ghost didn’t move.

“I would remember something like this.”

“No,” he said quietly. “You wouldn’t.”

Silence.

Your hand curled into a fist at the bottom of the page. “This is a lie. Someone forged this.”

He didn’t answer.

Your eyes moved again, line by line. Then you reached the end of the document.

A scanned image of a transfer order—a single-page CIA internal memo authorizing a complete neural wipe. One signature at the bottom.

You blinked. Your throat closed. “Who signed it?”

Ghost didn’t answer.

You read the name out loud, voice tight, barely audible.

“Russell Adler.”

It felt like glass cracking in your skull.

Something moved behind your eyes—something old. A flicker of warm light. A woman’s laugh. A hand brushing through your hair. A man’s voice: “You don’t need to remember. You just need to obey.”

The breath left your lungs. You stood up so fast that the chair slammed backward. “This is a setup.”

Ghost stood, too—calm. Controlled.

“Lockjaw—”

“Don’t call me that.” Your voice snapped like wire under tension.

You backed up, running into the wall, dragging your nails down your jaw like you could claw the memory out.

You grabbed the file. Threw it. Pages scattered. “I don’t have parents. I never had parents.”

Ghost didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to touch you. Just stood there.

You dropped to a crouch. Hands gripping your hair. Breathing like you couldn’t get enough air into your chest.

You whispered, “Why would he do that to me?”

And Ghost, quiet, heavy: “Because he knew you’d be the best if you didn’t have anything left to lose.”

[endless-ineffabilities]

Diet Mountain Dew

chapter 2 of the National Anthem series

President Aemond Targaryen x f!reporter reader

synopsis: a reporter finds herself entangled in an affair with Aemond Targaryen, the President of Westeros.

in this chapter: In her new assignment, the reader has to immerse herself in political affairs. But will she get caught up in another kind of affair altogether?

word count: 6.5k

themes/warnings: smut! (18+), tension!, language, pining, power imbalance, infidelity, a bit of a slow burn then a decisive unravelling

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

How did you get yourself into this?

You’ve been asking yourself that question a lot lately.

You’re not sure when your job as a reporter became quite so complicated. But you had prepared yourself for hard work, for late nights and challenging deadlines. Highgarden News granted you this assignment—a high-profile, career-defining opportunity to shadow President Aemond Targaryen, as he campaigned from city to city. It was the type of assignment that could make a career, a ticket to bigger stories, bigger roles, maybe even a permanent spot in King’s Landing.

Yet here you are, two weeks into the campaign trail, and you already feel yourself slipping.

What started as an assignment became something else, something you’re almost afraid to name.

Only one news team is granted access for each region, with yours being the one assigned from The Reach. The reporters from the other regions had arrived in droves in Lannisport weeks earlier, and then now in Riverrun, trailing Aemond’s every public appearance. In each city, his campaign team organised luxurious setups, from lavish hotel suites to VIP access at his events. It was a calculated display of power and promise—a future where the country could have all the sophistication and glamour it desired, all thanks to the Targaryen name.

And you are always closest to him. You.

As you move from one city to another, you can feel it growing, that silent speculation from your colleagues. You’re special, they whisper. His favourite. His go-to for the tough questions, the tough days. 

At first, it was easy to ignore. But when Aemond singles you out in every briefing, when his publicist Margaery—almost maternal in her role as his chief handler—asks if you need anything on behalf of “the President’s office,” it gets harder to deny that connection lingering between you and him.

Every day, it’s something else: a small smile sent in your direction, a private nod, a comment to you and only you when a question gets a little too personal. It’s like he’s let you into his inner circle, and even your best friend Theon, who kindly volunteered to assist you throughout this assignment, has become more insistent in his insinuations.

And, as much as you tell yourself otherwise, you find it impossible not to watch him just as closely.

Aemond is, without a doubt, relentless. It’s as if he’s constantly at war, a one-man show of steely-eyed ambition and razor-sharp wit. He doesn’t just address his audience; he commands them. His campaign team circles him like hawks, eager to please, but he always keeps them at arm’s length, rarely indulging in their advice.

His grandfather and campaign manager, Otto Hightower, is the only one who gets close, hovering, guiding Aemond’s every move with a careful hand, though it’s clear they clash. Otto wants a puppet, someone to execute his carefully curated, well-worn tactics to keep the Targaryens in power, and Aemond… Aemond wants something else entirely.

He’s made it clear—he will not be controlled.

“I’m the one they’ll listen to,” he snaps in a rare, private argument you overhear in the hotel corridor one evening. You can almost feel the electric charge in his voice, the tightly controlled anger that lingers beneath the surface. He’s too smart, too keenly aware of his image to lash out publicly, but in these quiet moments, the crack in his polished exterior shows.

“And you’ll destroy your own campaign if you keep refusing to listen,” Otto fires back, with a ferocity that is reserved for his grandson, not the President. “You think they care about you? They want to see power preserved, to see someone they can trust and control—”

“They trust me,” Aemond interrupts, his voice a low, cutting whisper. “And I won’t be controlled by you, or anyone else.”

There’s a silence after that, and you find yourself stepping back, pressing against the hallway wall, your heartbeat spiking as you try to blend into the shadows.

Otto’s voice drops to a chilling calm. “You’d do well to remember, Aemond, that being president means knowing when to bend.”

But Aemond doesn’t bend. Not for anyone.

He finds you, always. In each press briefing, his attention always seems to land on you, pulling you into his orbit whether you want it or not. Because no matter how you deem it to be—inappropriate, overwhelming, distracting—he’s simply too intoxicating.

He relies on you—most of the time only you—when he’s tired, frustrated, or just seeking a confidante. With each private moment, each conversation, the promise you made to yourself of keeping things professional grows weaker and weaker. 

The occasional brush of his hand on your hips or on the small of your back as if letting you know that he’s got you, that he’s there, is nearly enough to get you to break.

And then, there’s the pen incident.

In an afternoon meeting, a few people from his inner circle gathered around, including Margaery, Theon, and Aemond’s loyal security guards, Steve and James. You’re taking notes, barely listening to the endless back-and-forth about strategic points in the city that will “swing the voters,” when Aemond turns to you, breaking the hum of conversation.

“Could you grab that pen from my pocket?” he says, his voice low and casual, as if it’s the most natural request in the world.

Your hand falters, and you glance at him, wondering if you misheard. But no—he’s watching you intently, with that strange, intense expression that you can never quite read. There’s a faint curve to his mouth, a glint of challenge in his eyes. He knows you can’t refuse without drawing attention, yet his request feels deeply, absurdly personal. It feels like a dare.

Aware of the eyes on you, you slip your fingers into the front pocket of his suit jacket, which haphazardly rests on the small table beside you. You begin to suspect that he placed it there deliberately, just for this moment, and this suspicion is confirmed when your fingers brush against something unexpected—something soft, delicate, and unmistakably familiar.

Lace. Your lace panties.

Your breath catches, and you feel heat rise in your cheeks as you realise exactly what he’s done. Those were the same ones you had been missing since that night—the same night you made out in his car, crossing a line you’d sworn you’d never approach.

His gaze doesn’t waver, a flicker of satisfaction flashing across his face as he watches your reaction. It’s a possessive look, a reminder of that moment, of the way he had drawn you in, breaking every rule you’d set for yourself. You quickly pull your hand back, clenching the pen and clearing your throat, avoiding his gaze.

“Something wrong, angel?” he asks smoothly as he retrieves the pen from your outstretched, near-trembling hand. Oh shit. Not here, not now.

Margaery raises an eyebrow at the name, her lips twitching in amusement, and Theon, standing off to the side, looks like he’s holding back a loud, theatrical laugh. But Aemond doesn’t break, doesn’t show even a hint of embarrassment. If anything, he seems pleased, his eyes glinting with amusement as he seamlessly segues into the discussion at hand.

After the meeting, Theon doesn’t waste a second before sidling up to you, eyes glinting with barely concealed amusement. 

“Angel, huh?” He draws out the word, savouring each syllable. “Didn’t realise we’d upgraded to pet names with the Commander-in-Chief. That’s new.”

You give him a deadpan look. “Theon, don’t start.”

“Oh, but I’ve already started,” he says, all faux seriousness. “I mean, what’s next? Is he going to give you a little heart emoji in his messages? Add a winky face?”

“Don’t you have something better to do than dissect my life?”

“Normally, yes,” he replies, feigning deep thought. “But in this case? Absolutely not.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. “In fact, I think I owe him a thank you for giving me endless material. And you know Margaery caught it too—she’ll have that eyebrow arched for weeks.”

“Are you done?” you sigh, but he’s relentless, clearly enjoying himself.

“Oh, honey, I’ve barely begun,” he says, leaning in as he glances around to make sure no one’s listening. “Because let’s be real. You’re not getting called angel for, what? Your groundbreaking, objective reporting?”

“Theon, what the fu—”

“Yeah, I bet he’s covering you too… literally...”

“You’re gross.”

“...with his tight body, and his thick c—”

“Okay! Okay, I get the picture!”

The next day, it becomes ever clearer that Riverrun—a critical, symbolic region—has remained steadfastly out of reach.

The Tullys, who are influential in Riverrun, have held a deep-seated mistrust toward Aemond’s family for generations. Once allies, the Tullys and Targaryens grew increasingly distant over the years, tensions flaring over each slight, each perceived grab for power by either family. Riverrun is deeply traditional, loyal to old values and wary of Aemond’s ambitious plans, which feel to them like unwelcome interference. And with Cregan Stark—Aemond’s primary rival—making calculated moves to win over the Tullys, Aemond’s approval ratings in Riverrun are slipping even further.

Cregan Stark is as adept at appealing to people’s hearts as Aemond is at appealing to their logic. With his easy smile and steady presence, Stark has positioned himself as the family man, the man who values every corner of the country and pledges to protect its heritage.

Aemond, on the other hand, is seen as a firebrand—a Targaryen not content to merely lead but determined to change, to push, to innovate. Stark’s connection to the Tullys is not just strategic; he has endeared himself to them, winning over not only the common people but Governor Edmure Tully himself, the unyielding leader who holds significant sway over Riverrun’s political landscape.

Still, Aemond persists, though his methods grow sharper and less forgiving by the day.

The morning in Riverrun is bitterly cold, as if the city itself has turned on Aemond. After his latest speech, which was met with only a polite smattering of applause, he retreats with his team to a private conference room in the hotel, his jaw clenched, his demeanour taut as he listens to Margaery brief him on the polling numbers.

“Riverrun isn’t budging,” she says, her voice hesitant but steady. “They’re not warm to us—and to be honest, Cregan Stark’s campaign is winning them over. He’s made a point to connect with the locals, attend Tully family events, visit their memorials. His team’s doing an incredible job of selling him as someone who’s part of their world.”

“Their world?” Aemond repeats, his voice laced with disdain as he leans back in his chair. “Is that supposed to mean something to me? I don’t run campaigns based on sentiment.”

“Sentiment isn’t useless,” she counters, glancing around at the team with a knowing look. “Especially not here. Riverrun values its heritage, its ties to old families. Stark’s giving them exactly what they want—a friendly face who promises stability.”

You observe him from the far side of the room, notebook in hand. You’ve been watching him closely, taking mental notes, seeing just how he ticks under pressure. And right now, his restraint is paper-thin.

Theon nudges your arm, leaning close enough to whisper, “You know he’s never going to win them over with these tactics, right? Riverrun doesn’t want what he’s selling.”

You nod slightly, acknowledging Theon’s point, but say nothing. It’s true: there’s no sense of warmth or nostalgia in Aemond’s approach. Instead, he comes off as cold and unyielding, refusing to play the game of familiarity and tradition that Riverrun adores. Stark, on the other hand, seems to step right into that world effortlessly, casting himself as the everyman with a steady hand and the charm that disarms even the most sceptical locals.

Aemond’s voice breaks your thoughts. “The Tullys can have their nostalgia, their small-minded ways. But it’s a relic of the past,” he says, a sharp edge in his tone. “I’m not here to coddle them. I’m here to bring Riverrun—and the entire country—into the future, not keep them mired in their ancestral grudges.”

Otto clears his throat, his gaze calculating as he turns toward Aemond. “If you ignore the Tullys, you risk alienating a significant power base. And frankly, this region is one you can’t afford to lose. Stark may look like an innocuous threat, but don’t underestimate him, Aemond. He’s winning because he’s using tactics that work, that make him appear… sympathetic.”

Aemond’s mouth twists, barely masking his contempt. “Sympathetic isn’t the same as capable,” he says icily, his gaze flicking to you. “But maybe the press has some insights they’d like to share?”

You feel the weight of his gaze and everyone else’s as the team shifts their attention toward you. For a moment, you hesitate, caught off guard. You meet Aemond’s intense stare and try to keep your response measured. “Cregan Stark’s strategy here seems to be focusing on shared values,” you say slowly, choosing each word with care. “He’s connecting with people on a personal level. He’s convincing them that he’s one of them, someone who understands them. And while you’re pushing for change, they may not feel ready for it… or see the need.”

Aemond’s eyes narrow, his expression unreadable as he takes in your words. “So you’re saying I should be more like Stark?” he asks, his voice carrying an edge that raises goosebumps along your arms.

“No, not exactly. But it might help if you met them where they are before asking them to follow you somewhere else. Sometimes, people need to feel seen before they’re willing to listen.”

His expression tightens, and for a second, you think you’ve overstepped. But then he lets out a low, humourless laugh, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t do nostalgia tours,” he says finally, his voice low. “I’ve already won once before, that’s why I’m sitting here. They still don’t know who I really am? Fine. I’ll show them. But I’m not going to beg them to like me.” 

It doesn’t take long before he dismisses the team, instructing them to meet later in the evening for the next round of campaign preparations. Everyone files out of the room in a silence that feels heavier than it should, but you’ve only just stood from your seat when he commands, “Stay.”

You look around, and it is only Margaery and Theon left in the room, but they barely pause on their way to the doors, communicating their understanding that Aemond pertains to you. They’re used to it by now. 

“So,” he says, his voice smoother and more level than mere moments ago, “we’re here, angel. Riverrun.” He’s perched on the front edge of his desk—his usual spot, whenever he calls you in for a word.

You only emit a noncommittal hum, legs crossed as you sit on the chair in front of him. A small act of defiance because he continues to ignore your request for him to stop calling you angel. Never mind that there is no one else within earshot at the moment, save for Steve and James patrolling the hallway outside. 

“Nothing to say…” he posits the question, and you quickly jump into a response.

“Well, there is—”

But then he adds, purposefully cutting through at that moment to catch you off guard, with the slyest of smirks gracing his lips. “...angel?”

You sigh in defeat. “I told you—”

“Not to call you angel, I know, I know.” He waves a hand dismissively, and you know he’s just going to disregard the repetition of your plea. “But it’s the only name that feels right. That or… I don’t know… Baby? Sweetheart?”

Mortified, you look away from him, scanning the view outside the windows and ignoring the warmth you felt from hearing baby roll smoothly off his tongue. “None of those, Aemond, please. You know what, nevermind.”

He carries on, laughter still evident in his voice. “Tell me, are the people here in Riverrun right to be sceptical of me?”

“They’re wary, yes,” you admit, choosing your words carefully. “You’re a Targaryen; the older generation still remembers your family’s history. Frankly, many of them are wondering if you’re actually here for them or if you’re just trying to settle old scores. It also doesn’t help that Cregan Stark has endeared himself to the Tullys, and if he has their endorsement—”

“Then I’ve lost Riverrun,” Aemond states, his eyes darkening at the possibility, but he doesn’t lose his composure. Or if he feels the slightest hint of worry, he doesn’t let it show. If anything, he’s much calmer now, with just the two of you in the room, as opposed to when he was surrounded by his team. “And what do you think?”

“Well, the Tullys—”

“No,” he clarifies sharply. “What do you think of me?”

He stands perfectly still, all of his focus directed at you. Your stomach twists with the sudden intimacy of his question, but you meet his gaze, refusing to back down. 

“I think you’re ambitious. Smart, ruthless when you need to be. But I also think you haven’t shown enough respect to the values of tradition and ancestral heritage. It’s clear in how you talk about the opposition, how you dismiss their concerns. People feel that.”

His jaw clenches, a flash of anger in his eyes. “I dismiss what doesn’t matter,” he says coldly. “I’m not here to appease everyone, nor to waste time on people who aren’t willing to listen. I’m here to make real changes.”

“You’re here to secure your legacy, Aemond,” you counter, unable to hold back the accusation. “It’s about power as much as it is about the people. Maybe more.”

The air becomes charged, and his stony mask almost falls to give way to surprise. You’re willing to wager that no one in your position has ever spoken so directly to him before. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve crossed a line. But then his lips curl into a smirk, and he lets out a low chuckle.

“Perhaps it’s both, angel,” he concedes, surprising you. “But ambition isn’t a sin, you know. Everyone in this room wants something out of this campaign.” He gives you a pointed look, as if daring you to argue.

You’re unsure whether to feel guilty of the truth he’s pertaining to. You did accept this position because of the prestige that it offers, the way it can doubtlessly do wonders for the trajectory of your career. And only that… right?

Aemond can’t have been a motivation, no matter how strong his pull is. No matter how often you have imagined that it were his fingers, in the place of yours, stroking your wet folds before you fall asleep.  

You cross your arms, standing your ground. “There’s ambition, and then there’s ruthlessness. People don’t trust a man who’ll do whatever it takes to win. They need to believe you’ll put them first.”

His expression shifts, something flickering in his eyes that you can’t quite read. He crosses the space between you with slow, measured steps until he’s close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, and he plants his hands on the armrest of your seat, caging you in.

“And what about you, my angel?” he asks, voice low, his gaze intense. “Do you trust me?”

Your breath catches, his proximity affecting you more than you’d care to admit. His hand brushes against your arm, featherlike and tantalising, and you feel your resolve hanging on by a thread. How soon until you surrender another pair of your lace panties to be his salacious keepsake?

“I trust you to be who you are,” you say quietly. “The question is whether that’s enough.”

He lets out a long sigh, his gaze softening, and for a moment, you  see a glimpse of something more—a vulnerability hidden beneath the polished veneer of the aspiring president. He watches you with a strange intensity, as though he’s trying to read your every thought.

“We’re not so different, you and I,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “We both know how to play the game.”

Your heart hammers in your chest, but you force yourself to look away, breaking the spell. You know the price of getting too close, of letting yourself get sucked into his orbit. It would be so easy to lean into him, to let yourself be caught up in his ambition, but you can’t afford to lose yourself.

“I’m just here for the story,” you reply, your voice steadier than you feel. But even as you say it, you know it’s a lie.

“Go ahead then, say it,” he murmurs, coaxing you. His gaze is trained on you, hard yet unmistakably interested. “Tell me how I’m arrogant, tell me how you don’t need this job, don’t need me,” he taunts, but his eyes betray him—they’re daring you, almost pleading, though he’d never admit it.

You hold your ground, refusing to let his words twist your resolve. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” you retort, but the bite in your voice only seems to amuse him. The corner of his mouth curves, barely a smile, yet somehow even more alluring than a full one. 

He leans closer, his scent enveloping you—something fresh and faintly musky, muddled by the thick aroma of premium-grade cigars. “Then why don’t you walk away?” he asks, as though he already knows the answer. “Are you still here because of your job?” he murmurs, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Or maybe… you enjoy this.”

Your words falter, caught in your throat. Because you don’t want to lie. Not here, not with his gaze stripping away every pretense, every defense you’ve carefully held between you.

He reads it on your face before you can speak, and it emboldens him. His fingers trail up your arm, over the thin material of your white blouse, and his touch is maddening. His hand moves to cup your face, and the tenderness in the gesture is an almost unbearable contrast to the edge in his voice.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he whispers, daring you.

You can’t. And in the silence, he makes his move.

Without warning, his mouth is on yours, fierce and unyielding, a kiss that speaks volumes about everything you’ve both left unsaid. The world blurs, narrows down to the way his hands move against your back, the press of his lips on yours. Every nerve, every inch of you feels ignited, drawn helplessly toward him.

Aemond pulls you from your seat, carrying you to his expansive desk without much effort. He sweeps an arm across the desk, papers and official documents scattering to the floor, pens clattering with a reckless abandon he rarely lets show. For once, the President’s carefully curated world is disrupted—by you.

Your ass slides along the smooth surface, his arms bracing at your sides. And even as you resist, pressing your palms against his chest in some futile attempt at defiance, he only pulls you closer, responding with a hunger that’s every bit as intense as his usual restraint. 

Aemond steps back just enough to tug his tie loose, letting it fall to the desk before undoing the buttons of his shirt, each one revealing more of the hard lines of his chest. When he finally shrugs the shirt off, he returns to you, his hands trailing down your thighs, his touch firm, almost searing.

“You don’t want to leave,” he breathes against your lips, his voice roughened by need. His mouth traces a path along your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Tell me you do, angel, and I’ll let you go.”

Your lips part, but no words come, just a breath that’s half sigh, half surrender. And the truth is, you don’t want to. Not even close.

He pulls back to catch your gaze, the weight of his stare laden with desire. “You understand what this means, don’t you?” he asks, his voice thick with urgency. 

“Wh-what does it mean?”

His mouth curls into a sly smile, one that’s both playful and predatory. “It means you’re all mine, angel,” he declares. 

Before you can respond, he lowers his mouth to your neck, trailing soft, heated kisses along the sensitive skin. 

“Do you know how much I’ve craved this?” he murmurs against your skin. “I’ve fought every part of myself to keep this professional, as you wished. But every time you look at me, I can’t help but want more.”

His fingers trace along the zipper of your pencil skirt, and as he slowly pulls it off, his eyes stay locked on yours. When the skirt falls away, followed by your blouse, and finally, your undergarments, he leans back, taking in the sight of you with unabashed greed. For a brief second, his gaze softens, a look of admiration flashing across his face, before his jaw tightens and he regains his control. 

He tugs at your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist, and as you obey, your body instinctively pulls him closer, pressing against him. You can feel the hard length of him against your core, and a soft moan escapes your lips as he grinds against you.

His fingers dig into your flesh as he rocks his hips into yours, so firmly that his signet ring is sure to make its marking. You arch your back, pushing against him, craving the friction, the connection, the release that feels just within reach. “Aemond,” you manage to gasp, the sound barely above a whisper. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Oh yeah, baby? Shouldn’t… Or wouldn’t?” He knows exactly how to push you, and he revels in it, his gaze flicking down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“Shouldn’t,” you decide, feeling emboldened.

“Good,” he growls, a glimmer of triumph in his eyes. He captures your lips once again, and you can taste the desperation in his kiss, a hunger that ignites something primal inside you.

In a sudden movement, he grips your waist and lifts you off the desk, his strength almost overwhelming. He turns you around, pressing you down against the cool surface, your cheek brushing against the scattered papers and pens, the remnants of his work now a forgotten afterthought. He holds you there, his body cocooning you, and you can feel the heat radiating from him, the way he’s anchored in the moment, unyielding in his intent.

You hear the rattling of his belt buckle as he hurriedly shimmies off his suit trousers, until he’s left as naked as the day he was born. The fucking President, in all his glory, his glistening cock fully erect as if saluting the bastard it belongs to. 

You can’t help but gasp as he positions himself behind you, his tip propped against your ass. His hands roam your body, gliding over the curves of your hips, the swell of your thighs, and you shudder when he trails his index finger along your slick folds, prepping your hole for entry. The thrill of being so exposed, so completely vulnerable before him, only makes you feel hotter.

Aemond leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Are you ready for me, angel?” he asks, the question hanging heavy in the air, thick with implication.

You turn your head just enough to meet his gaze, feeling the undeniable chemistry that crackles between you. “Yes,” you whisper, and the admission feels like a declaration.

And with that, he pushes himself inside you, entering you with a powerful thrust that steals the breath from your lungs. You gasp at the sensation, a mix of pain and pleasure that ignites every nerve ending in your body. The desk creaks beneath you as he moves, holding you tightly, anchoring you against him as he finds a rhythm that’s both unforgiving and intoxicating.

You push back against him, matching his rhythm, letting the heat and pleasure wash over you in waves. Every thrust sends sparks racing through your body, and you can’t help but moan, the sound echoing off the walls, mingling with the soft, urgent sounds of skin against skin.

“Uhh, yeah, baby, just like that,” he growls. “Let me take you—”

Your body responds instinctively, tightening around him, drawing him deeper, and you feel the rush of euphoria just within reach.

“Aghhh… please, please!” you gasp, your words bordering on desperate, a testament to the need coursing through you.

He grips your hips, urging you to meet him, to give in to the wild abandon of the moment. “Not yet,” he snaps harshly, but the smirk on his lips betrays the pleasure he finds in your desperation.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to change positions, and before you can fully process what’s happening, he lifts you up, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist. In a fluid motion, he shifts you both, and he climbs atop the desk so that he has you in missionary, your body flat against the cool surface. 

He thrusts into you again, even deeper this time, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely.

As he looks down at you, the image of your flushed cheeks, beautifully fucked expression, and the way his name rolls off your tongue in sensual mewls loops in his mind, each time with a sharper pang of satisfaction.

“Look at me,” he growls, gripping your jaw when your head flops to the side. He demands your eyes—he wants to peer into your soul when you finally crumble. “Look at me when you fall apart, baby. I want to see you unravel.”

“Aemond, fuck yes—” He sees you give in, eyelids fluttering as you obey. He likes being in control, but having you like this might be enough to make this part of him fray. Just say the word and he’s yours. You’ll be the only one who can command the Commander-in-Chief.

“Oh, my angel,” he purrs, a sensual melody that is soft and rough all the same, as he stretches you with his girth and brings you to ecstasy with every roll of his hips. “My beautiful, beautiful angel. You like this, don’t you? You like when I take your body like this? You’re so fucking hot, baby…”

“Yeah, yeah… I fucking love it—”

“You’re gonna love me,” he murmurs, his tone dropping to an intimate hush. “I’ll make sure of it.” 

You’re gonna love him. Whatever the president wants, the president gets. 

“Yes, yes, yes—”

Aemond thinks of making you swear it. To promise that you will love him. Perhaps, if you say it in an official capacity—under oath, for instance—you’d actually fall in love with him for fear of perjury. It’s a childish thought, but he considers it, and mulls it over with as much seriousness as he does the labour policy frameworks Criston is proposing.

He can make you do it. He wants to. 

Please, please, angel. 

“You mean it, baby?” Aemond asks you, not minding that your pupils are blown out from sheer pleasure and your mind is probably going haywire. “You swear you’ll love me?”

Your lips quiver around a gasp as the swollen mushroom tip of his cock drives roughly into your g-spot, the whites of your eyes visible as they roll to the back of your head. “Whatever you want, Aemond.”

You said it. So he has you now. No takebacks.

He sits back, eyes glued to your writhing figure from above, lording over you like you’re his most prized possession. He takes one hand and uses it to lift your hips, raising your pelvis a few inches off the mattress, while his other hand comes to rest firmly on your lower belly, pressing on your flesh as if sensing his cock buried within. He feels it all—from the outside, the outline of his pulsating length sliding in and out of your core, and inside, your walls clenching on instinct when he slams deep. 

The ruthlessness in his gaze spurs you on, as well as how he handles your body, positioning you right where he wants you. His angel, in the perfect angle, a vision as he hits the right spot with every wet-sounding squelch. Your glistening juices coat his cock, and he has to keep himself from bending down and drinking them all up from you. It’s an exercise of willpower to resist sucking your folds and licking every bit of the sticky, tangy moisture. All his, just as you’re all his to eat, to devour.

But that’s for afterward. Now he has to cum in you first, and decorate your insides with his seed. May the gods bless Westeros, his constituents all recite. 

But nothing compares to you. The gods don’t hold a candle to your light.

There is only his angel, taking his cock so well like a good girl, like a good little slut.

“I’ll fill you up, angel,” he murmurs, his voice rough and dripping with lust. “Give you everything I have. Bless you with every bit of my fucking… patriotism.”

“Fuck yes, Sir,” you whine helplessly. He is so gone.

“Oh, my angel is so needy, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Sir… need you so much…”

“So mouthy, baby,” he says proudly, a deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “Are you going to sound this pornographic in the morning? Ask me… ask me how I like my pussy in an interview?”

You reach for him as you sweetly giggle at his words, your fingers curling at the back of his neck as you pull him down for a kiss that’s hot, messy, and all-consuming. He moans in your mouth, looking at you all cunt-drunk with heavy-lidded eyes. 

You trace his jaw as you attempt to come up with something coherent. “That’s—” Slam. He slows his pace, punctuating your words with rough thrusts that take your breath away. “—a good question—” Pound. “—Sir.” Plunge. “So… how do you like your pussy, Mr. President?”

He laughs. Now that’s one question he could get used to hearing more often. But only if it’s from you.

“Hmm.” He curls his lips, pretending to consider while caressing your face. “Let me see… I like my pussy… wet, tight, and completely fucking yours.”

“Good answer.”

“Warm around my cock… just like this.” His aforementioned member twitches as it massages your inner walls, and it feels so good when you tighten around him, that he has to bite his lip to restrain from letting out a feral growl.

“—s’that so?”

“Yeah, angel,” he smirks, reaching down to flick your aching bud. “You see, it’s gotta be on this body right here.”

“Sure,” you say in mock defiance. “Bet you tell that to all your women.”

“No,” he breathes, his roguish smirk in place, “only the journalists.”

With an indignant whine, you slap his chest. “You ass!” Your voice is light, full of warmth, and it prompts him to make a face at you, pulling the corners of his lips downward. Your laughter echoes freely, and something in him switches, as if he’s been disarmed. 

He lets his forehead rest against yours. He knows he’s teetering on a precipice of something he won’t be able to pull back from, but he feels like jumping into the void if it means being with you. “Are you calling your president an ass? My, my, angel, that could be a felony,” he teases, his brows quirking. 

“What, are you going to send me away?”

Aemond’s expression hardens for a moment. “Not a chance.”

He increases his pace again, his hips blurring in the motion. The two of you desperately chase your climax, settling in an unforgiving rhythm—your ankles suspended in the air with your legs spread wide, him ducking down to suck your tit or bite along your jawline, his balls grazing the flesh of your ass. 

When the moment overtakes you, his grip tightens, an unspoken command, and you give in, your whole body quivering underneath him. He follows you over the edge, groaning deeply as he reaches his own release, warmth spilling into you as he involuntarily shudders. His breathing is heavy against your skin when he finally collapses beside you, his arm slipping around your shoulders, holding you close as the last ripples of pleasure fade.

“You know, if I’d known what it would take to get that fire out of you,” he murmurs with a smirk, “we’d have done this sooner.”

You raise a brow, playfully challenging. “Assuming, of course, I’m even coming back after this.”

Aemond rolls his eyes, drawing you even closer, but there’s a hint of vulnerability lingering there.

His forehead presses against yours, and his pulse steadies as he allows himself a moment of closeness, a silent confession. "Stay with me," he whispers, and he is suddenly stripped bare, because the words slipped out without his permission.

“Aemond—”

“I don’t want you going anywhere, okay?” Though his words are possessive, there’s a plea just beneath the surface.

You don’t answer with words; instead, you let your hand reach up to cradle his face, thumb brushing the faint scar underneath his ghost-white prosthetic.

And he deems it more than enough.

The next morning dawns bright and unyielding, the weight of Aemond’s words lingering in your mind, but you’re determined to focus on the task at hand, burying yourself in notes and strategies for the day’s events.

But your sense of composure shatters, when you’re met with the imposing figure of Floris Baratheon, the First Lady herself. She glides toward you under the harsh lighting of the hotel lobby, impeccably dressed in a tailored fuschia suit that speaks of authority and sophistication, her presence commanding the room’s attention. 

“So, you’re the flavour of the month,” she says, a mocking lilt colouring her voice. “I’ve… heard about you. Honestly, I was expecting more.”

You straighten, feigning confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. “I’m here for the campaign coverage, ma'am,” you reply, keeping your tone professional, but she’s not having any of it.

Her eyes dance with cruel amusement. “How quaint. Must be quite the thrill, getting special treatment from the President himself. Access like that must mean you’re more than just another reporter. Just a passing phase, I’m sure. A little distraction to help him cope with all this pressure.”

You bristle at her insinuation, indignation rising within you, along with the inevitable shame. “I’m just doing my job.”

She leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let me give you a word of advice—don’t get too comfortable. My dearest husband has a habit of moving on when the novelty wears off.”

The venom in her words strikes a nerve, and you’re struck speechless, searching for a retort that won’t come off as surprised or defensive—and finding none.

Floris laughs at your expression, a cold, biting sound that sends a chill down your spine. “You know, you’re not the first ‘angel’ Aemond has forcibly inserted into our marriage, and I assume you certainly won’t be the last.”

With that, she flicks her hair over her shoulder and walks away, but she glances back one last time, adding, “Enjoy your little fling, angel.”

a/n: and so it officially begins! It's going to be tough out here for our girl, getting involved with a married man. The fucking President, at that! Oh well. As long as she doesn't fall in love. Let me know what yous anticipate from the story (apart from even more filth that's sure to come) 🤍🤍🤍

Vhagar taglist

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[lustlovehart]

I know I’ve expressed it before, but I absolutely love this monster au and its Reverse set up too, especially with how the dynamics change! No matter the universe and its setup, MC is surrounded by besotted, dangerous individuals, whether monster or man.

I wonder how this setup would work with Jack, since he and Hunter!MC are coworkers even if separated. Perhaps he met Monster!MC prior to becoming a hunter, spared by them for some reason or another and, after being inspired by Leona too, Jack decided the best way to find Monster!MC again was to learn from the best and track them down.

Love how Malleus is so clearly already obsessed with them even before meeting them and returns frustrated and in love to the point few of his faction even comment on his brooding. Poor guy just wants to woo the beautiful monster he’s been assigned to kill, but he will ignore the orders from Crowley because he acknowledges it’s a stupid order.

And just all the scenarios of the Event dudes too!

Human Fellow quickly going from personal to romantic gain after meeting Monster!MC is so funny, especially when he’s not affiliated with the Hunter organization. He’s probably spared by them for this reasoning:

Monster!MC to Human Fellow: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.

That or the fact he’s accompanied by young Gidel and Monster!MC has some boundaries about killing kids or leaving them orphaned. Either way, they’ve now added a conman to the list of their dogged pursuers.

This is probably just a random idea, but Neige’s blurb for the reverse au makes me wonder if he did meet Monster!MC in another lifetime, only to recall them via his dreams/memories (depending on how old MC is here). Perhaps as a besotted young royal who saw the beauty of the monster long ago, only to die tragically before he could express his love or before they could return it. And perhaps there is a near forgotten law from ages past of some forgotten kingdom, whose destruction is credited to Monster!MC, that Riddle finds that would have pardoned a monster from execution via marriage to someone of high standing.

A law Riddle may keep in his back pocket to justify his obsession while finding a loophole to executing Monster!MC. One that a few others might discover if he’s not careful…

Rollo, Rollo my favorite Catholic guilt menace. You are not immune to hot monsters in your area.

Seriously, love this au and all the fun scenarios fit paints, thank you for the brain rot and creativity!

Jack is such an interesting concept in both Au’s! There’s a certain masked stoicism he gives off, whether he has a tail or not, he gives the vibe of one wagging behind him whenever in your vicinity, even when avoiding eye contact…! When I think of one of Jack and Monster!Mc’s first meetings, I imagine you falling out of a tree again except this time, Jack is there to accidentally catch you (Through push ups. When you fall on him, he stays in perfect push up form. It’s you first sign there’s… definitely something different…) When you don’t attack him despite having him underneath you, his curiosity spikes once more. Leona busts into their lounge complaining about you escaping once again.

Maybe… Jack can prove himself to Leona if he catches you (totally has nothing to do with you though, definitely not.)

He has no idea this will actually backfire on him.

Ahh!! I’m so glad the Malleus idea is appreciated!! It’s actually a parallel to Twst!Mc knowing absolutely nothing about Malleus in their first meeting. Meanwhile, Malleus knows everything about you! He knows your capabilities, your height, your weight, your hand size, but.. He knows nothing about you. His only wish is to know your favorite color, your favorite time of the day, perhaps your favorite… gargoyle? Crowley knows about his ever growing infatuation with you…

He always tries his best to tell Malleus you’re just a heinous murderer… But then he glares at him, and the Foundations all powerful leader, backs away immediately.

Fellow is so silly, he looks at you with dollars signs in his eyes, and then you growl a “Shoo” too him with your face in view, and the money is replaced with heart eyes. And ugh!! You’re so right about Monster!Reader not killing younger humans!! Both Mcs have a semblance of kindness. While Hunter!Reader may have a much much bigger soft spot than Monster!Reader, M!Reader doesn’t like the thought of killing a mortal who hasn’t even had the chance to do anything wrong yet… The hearts in Fellows eyes grow bigger while he schemes about having Gidel expose you’re human empathy much more.

You’re actually right about Neiges whole meeting MC in a different life!! It’s really up to interpretation but my idea with it was more like, Neige remembering Monster Hunter!Reader instead! I was listening to “Birds of A feather” by Billie eilish when I was writing his part and then these lyrics popped up and I was struck with inspiration!!

“I knew you in another life. You had the same look in your eyes…” I like to think, even though Monster!Reader is the reason his comrades are on the verge of dying, for single moment, you and Neige lock eyes. He recognizes the way they soften… A more humanized version tenderly smiling at him as they decorate his wings with pretty paint. Except, he never remembers having bright feathers flailing behind his back. Neige is the only one who experiences this phenomenon. When he brings it up the rest of the Reverse cast, they look at him in confusion for these so called dreams.

I do love the idea of him being a prince though, and forbidden romance!! Maybe while Neige damsel in distress carries you away, he confesses a love he never remembers existing. And then… You’re left wondering… How the hell did the royal from 200 years ago find you again? The one who… Begged you to rule over his kingdom with him?!

Riddle finding loops holes in rules is also yummy?!? He wants to follow rules so bad… Finding loopholes almost feels like breaking them in truth, but then again, many less than legal actions have happened within the other units (Not Heartslaybul though, he’ll never let that happen). Before you know, You wake up painted in red roses, Riddle crouching next to you. The pattern is inconsistent, but that’s not the point…

“One is forbidden from yearning for a clean, unsullied, pure monster.” You shiver with the feeling of red paint dripping down your head. “You’re not clean anymore. You’re dirtied with red.” Your clawed hand reaches to wipe the paint from your face, but calloused hands stop you. “That means it’s not forbidden.”

I like how rather than having four ways to treat you like everyone else (Depending on the Au and its Mc), Rollo only has 2. His attitude depends on soley whether you’re a monster or a human. For a human, it will always be “You’re pure, untainted I love you I shall forever stand by you.” Meanwhile 💀, Rollo has a more domineering countenance if you’re a monster… He’ll call you all mannerisms of a devil, yet the beating in his chest can’t stop the fact he heavily yearns for your touch. He’s convinced you’ve hexed him. He’s litterally that Plankton meme. “Oh no, you’re hot!”

I’m so happy my brainrots have been enjoyed by you! I’m always looking forward to your comments on Monster!Twst posts with your thoughts! It’s amazing to see and feel how much you enjoy the Au and my writing ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

[charcubed]

Doctor Odyssey finale (aka the Captain vs The Powers That Be)

WELL! My mind is powerful unfortunately.

That simultaneously blatantly looked like what happens when a queer story gets censored but ALSO felt it could be twisted as setup for a future throuple in season 2 if miracles happen, which is both better and worse than I expected (a la Max’s speech).

They packed several bits of ODY3 subtext in the last like 5 minutes of that episode and I will TAKE IT ALL:

Max and Tristan making up as a group wedding happens.

Here's a screencap I took that also captured my sister texting me because she heard me yell "FUCKING FINALLY" through the wall.

Bonus points for the Captain's speech about love.

Despacito (LMFAAAOOO) being a Max/Tristan moment before Avery returns. "It started with a dance on a beach," as we were reminded this episode. But that song and dance was always about all 3 of them.

Not ending it on Maxavery; ending it on the throuple. Despite how that makes Tristan a third wheel in a scene that would feel objectively insane in any other television program about a love triangle lol. But this was never a conventional love triangle despite this supposed "resolution"! It was a poly love story!

And Max said he'd take all the bad again for both of them.

Treasuring the beautiful morsels <3

But! Come for the ODY3 subtext, stay for the other tangentially related subtext in the episode.

It's not a joke anymore (if it ever was): I DO think there is credence to the Captain's story in this finale being about the censorship of the show. It felt intentionally blatant.

"Corporate" "The powers that be" The rest of the team standing in solidarity? Not a boat but a SHIP?

Yeah.

Sequence of events:

Captain Massey, #1 supporter of ODY3 in the show (like its creators/writers), is steering the ship.

Captain is removed from power by corporate and the ship is steered by Monroe to bring Avery to Max.

Maxavery ultimately decide on monogamy. (That hard cut from Max and Avery dancing without Tristan to the Captain looking upset while on the ship? Like holy shit lol.)

Captain is then put back in power in the end via solidarity and protesting from his team.

Only then does ODY3 subtext return.

Crazy work.

I see. I perceive and appreciate. I say "fuck you, ABC network executives." The usual.

But in all seriousness, one of the reasons I'm arguing this is that – if I understood/remember correction (I'm very tired so maybe I'm off with this detail lol) – the Captain was removed from his position for saying they were returning to land to pick everyone up. So corporate punished him for that.

But Munroe made the same call and then did THE SAME DAMN THING with no consequence. It wasn't a plot thing. It was a metaphor!!!

CRAZY. WORK.

I do think they set up potential for a season 2 fairly well, all things considered? Like Max/Avery are obviously doomed without Tristan involved. Framing even conveyed that:

Tristan being in the middle again, getting between Max and Avery just like when they walked down the aisle as a trio (as ODY3 truther Captain is reinstated)… likely thing for them to show.

Avery wearing red as a visual warning while Max/Avery's chairs are close together and Tristan is slightly farther with a different drink… sick and twistedddd. (<- Complimentary)

So like, I'm at the point where I believe this show either doesn't get renewed because they said no ODY3 allowed, or if it DOES get renewed it's because ODY3 is (temporarily) alive as a possibility. The writers left themselves enough threads and subtext to work with, though I'm not sure how they'd get around Avery not being on the boat.

...but Avery going to med school means Max/Tristan would physically be on the ship together as just the two of them for a bit. There's that.

So like. Am I satisfied? No.

Would I say I'm upset? Not on the level I could've been. The writers got to sneak in more crumbs than my low expectations anticipated tbh. I'm mostly just sighing heavily. I also think I'm entitled to financial compensation, and Tristan as a character is entitled to violence, after which I will wrap him up in a blanket to hug him.

Would I say this show has wasted potential if it's been axed via the behind-the-scenes ultimatum of network interference that I suspect? Yeah, obviously. ABC executives, you STUPID BIGOTED BASTARDS.

To recap from last week's post:

There is a non-zero possibility that the execs gave Ryan Murphy an ultimatum about no longer doing polyamory, and since that’s the premise of the show, he is stuck struggling to figure out where the show can go from here. Which is maybe why it’s a decision (but not much of one) that the execs say Ryan Murphy has to make, which positions him as the bad guy who has to take the fallout from fans if he ostensibly ~just decides not to continue the story~ if renewal doesn’t happen.

The way this finale went seems to support that. But who knows! Take it with a grain of salt.

Anyway. I'm chillin. Like I made my peace with this a couple weeks ago at this point because I could see the writing on the wall. This show was still a gift to me. Censorship is just seemingly alive and well in the big year of 2025 (that's not news, though I really appreciate it being written into a plot) but subtext is also alive and well, so! Fuck it.

Throuple slow burn love story boat show I will always adore yoouuu <333

[lemon-leaf-events]

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[connecting-the-stars]

But In the End, We Stay the Same

Matt, Fisk, and Frank:

Spoilers for DDBA ep 4

Matt walking through an entirely different apartment. Fisk refusing to dawn his white suit. And Frank? Frank is setup in a filthy, half-haphazardly thrown together base of operations that is a striking mirror to the first base we see him in from Netflix Daredevil season 2.

Character introductions really set the tone for where their arcs may take them. Very interesting how they have painted each of these characters this season.

Of course, I am not blind to the criticism and where the cracks show from the creative overhaul, but I already viewed the show coming in as… well different. A “new era” both due to the gap in time since we’ve seen these wonderful characters, in real life and in universe, and due to Disney’s influence. I’m not one to focus a lot on time/age but the era when DD season one premiered was a year after Captain America: Winter soldier. This was years before Endgame and the Global Pandemic, the impact of such events are felt in the fictional universe and real world. I am a true believer in rewatch value from my multiple rewatches of Netflix’s Daredevil, but I also acknowledge that there will be elements lost, left in that era of film making and studio management. The colors and the certain level of grim are noticeably absent, when you see characters fall through several floors and they cough up dust/debris. The certain spark found in much of the dialogue of season 1 really is incredibly difficult to replicate.

Despite the places where “season 4” falls short, I can absolutely appreciate the dedication of the actors and actresses, returning and new. While I am comforted and reassured by Karen’s confirmed involvement in season 2, I appreciate Kristin’s and Cherry’s performances as they bar Matt into this new… stage of his life. Of being a full time lawyer and keeping his fists mostly unstained. Fisk’s new environment is half hilarious and half ominous as ever. Watching him stumble through politics and its niceties, and his uneasy speeches are relatively unexplored in Netflix’s series, forced into throne he has to keep his best face on for, rather than crushing skulls. Compared to his handful of appearances in the public being executed in precise manner that always had an end goal, for example, provoking Matt after the murder of Ms. Cardenas. Furthermore, with Vanessa’s distance and unfamiliar distrust. I am eagerly looking forward to Fisk’s manipulation in his mayorship as well as Vanessa’s standing in her business with her ever loving husband. The side characters playing off Fisk, have been given parts that challenge Fisk into different ways, which is much appreciated as he navigates being a truly public political figure.

Matt standing dead eyed in front of his window, right after the reshoot with Foggy’s death. Man, knew something was different. Like are you not crashing out and living out of a basement rn because….? I know that he only received medical attention after the finale of Defenders because he was in a Coma, how is the King of Guilt, Self Destructive Murdock not crawling out of dumpsters again? (Crit: where is queen of sass Sister Maggie?)

But it is fascinating watching this Matt Murdock listen to a nice record player and cook his own meals and walk like he isn’t living in the Bad Ending timeline. The quiet despair washing over him every time he reaches for Foggy’s prayer card. My dread as I realize he takes a piece of Foggy with him everywhere. The idea that Matt has lost faith in Daredevil, this utter stab to the heart proof that he Failed as daredevil, that he was not enough to save his best friend. Every which way you look at Matt and Foggy’s relationship, they are each other’s person. College, first internship, first official business. Matt of course sees this as his fault, that guilt clinging to him like a bad cold. Eats him (in the words of Castle), tears him up to the point he refuses to allow himself to enter a church. The sermon mention a person’s worthiness. Point blank. The fact that he no longer lives in Hell’s Kitchen is major flag of Distress (avoiding Sister Maggie who could talk at least some sense, some kindness to him, the absence of the church he visited so often in the Netflix show). Thus, refusing consolation of faith, of worthiness to be daredevil, Matt clutches twice as hard as ever to the Judicial system. To the part of his life and faith he shared with Foggy, where they promised each other they would do good. The abrupt introduction of Cherry and Kristin apparently filling said places of Karen and Foggy by Matt’s side is jarring as much as it is telling. While Kristin is a comic book character brought into this series, the knowledge of her and connection built with her so far is minimal, when set besides how much of Karen’s development we saw in season 1 of Netflix series. Similar to Cherry’s role being a mix of Ben Uriah and “Foggy” in essence. (I say very lightly. No one will compare to our Foggy.) Cherry’s reminders to Matt of the reality of the system and praising his efforts of being a Good Lawyer, mirroring in a way to Foggy’s constant mission to ground Matt when his head is in his ass. Heather also being pulled from the comics is quite interesting as I had no thoughts of who would be Matt’s love interest, though her being wedged between Vanessa, Fisk, and possibly Muse is not a good sign for her. New apartment, new firm, new co-workers but he cannot outrun grief. It will catch him.

(I know the lack of Karen is mostly due to the overhaul, but the fact that he does not have her to rely on currently also pushes this unresolved/unaddressed grief. The one person who also endured losing Foggy)

The time-skip is certianly something I’m intrigued by. Where it plays in the current story, and the pieces of Matt and Karen’s grief that are unexplored. Wonder if it had been inserted due to the creative overhaul?

Fisk and Matt’s parallel stories this session have been done quite well. While there was a particular balance the Netflix series formed for telling both their stories, I find giving more time to Fisk’s arc strengthens how well these characters are as narrative foils of each other. Fisk arriving this season through a slow flip of the camera, setting the city on its head and picking through a meager breakfast and his tense reunion with Vanessa, while Matt ghosts around his apartment before reaching for Foggy’s prayer card to leave. Both characters are damaged, pieces of themselves lost. While I have not watched Echo, the psychological damage done to Fisk appears to have followed him into Born Again. His confidence seemed to be shaken and his lack of support from Vanessa further pushes him towards stress. Matt facing Bullseye without Karen beforehand, the brief strained conversation with Karen afterwards. While Kristin does tell the audience that Matt needs someone in his life, that he needs a win, it is clearly seen how destitute he is when Fisk announces his mayoral campaign and he sits idle as his food burns behind him. Both Fisk and Matt turning to different ways to get by, to proceed to their goals, by refusing their “darker halves.”

This refusal to indulge in a part of who they are will double the pressure, suffocating until they can no longer stand it. Matt faced with the consequences of revealing Hector’s vigilante identity and the injustice of his murder, of being forced to face the grief and righteous anger of his niece. “No one will do anything about it!” As well as his extremely emotionally intense encounter with Frank. Fisk squaring away first steps of many in political action and faced against the failure of Daniel, then pecking through yet another modest meal. That is until episode 4’s reveal. Indulging in that carb heavy and seasoning rich meal for a king, paired swimmingly with a tortured soul’s pleas. That power, that desire for absolute authority, never truly left Fisk. Most likely never will. Then Matt scaling the roof’s ladder to his pristine collection of cowls, hand already reaching for his billy club. Their darker halves never left them, refused and placated for a time, but never not in the corner waiting for them.

Frank. Haha. Frank is great, let him take a few verbal swings at the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and he can work out more than his therapist girlfriend. Matt really is not coping, not processing. Cannot tell most people in his life everything, why he feels so responsible for the death of Foggy, for failing him. Best keep his name out of his mouth, because it’s not about him, right? Frank sitting in this grief of losing people who meant Everything to him, and recognizing that pain and stifled rage in Matt. When he retaliates, apologies and curses falling immediately afterwards, Frank does not accept it. Knows that his Darker Half is apart of him, is apart of his grief and pain. Being Daredevil, that righteousness and ruthlessness fueled him. Losing his dad to the criminal underground that got away unscathed, that injustice and lack of closure. Acting as that immovable object to villains unstoppable force. If it’s him or these innocent people behind him? Matt’s stepping to the plate everytime. Even when he attempted, he prioritized saving the victims. Frank is taking out people he deems worthy of the death penalty, Frank is “by any means necessary.” Frank’s grief, the Punisher is a part of him, of course he is going to see Matt’s grief as part of Daredevil. “You lose him. Didn’t you red? You hear him don’t you?”

Frank started out as a corpse on mission for vengeance. He got the people who took his family. He spends his efforts to end the threats permanently. Startling similar to how we first met him.

Matt and Fisk have denied themselves from fully indulging, allowing themselves to lean into their Darker Halves. However, after the events of episode 4, that is clearly going to change. I hope it does in the most explosive way possible.

All of this started from listening to Mother Mother’s - Try to Change

[isagrimorie]

Disney+ Putting 'Showrunner' as Jac Schaeffer's title is a win for the WGA.

I remember in 2021 everyone was miffed when Disney+ had Jac Schaeffer credited as a Headwriter.

Effectively, the studio is making its TV shows as if they were roughly six-hour movies, applying the same production methodology it’s used for the 23 unprecedentedly successful interconnected feature films that comprise the Marvel Cinematic Universe. That means empowering directors to lead a lot of creative decision-making, in collaboration with a small cadre of hands-on Marvel creative executives who are with the project from the beginning and report up to Feige.

---

For writers outside the company, however, Marvel’s decision to diminish the wide creative autonomy showrunners have traditionally wielded in TV — with directors and executives not just calling more shots within the production but also sitting in the writers’ room and requesting rewrites — touches a particularly raw nerve.

Fast forward to 2023 after the flop that was Secret Invasion and the mess of the first Disney+ Daredevil series, and after the WGA strike, Disney will now use Showrunners.

Daredevil is far from the first Marvel series to undergo drastic behind-the-scenes changes. Those who work with Marvel on the TV side have complained of a lack of central vision that has, according to sources, begun to afflict the studio’s shows with creative differences and tension. “TV is a writer-driven medium,” says one insider familiar with the Marvel process. “Marvel is a Marvel-driven medium.”  On the Oscar Isaac starrer Moon Knight, show creator and writer Jeremy Slater quit and director Mohamed Diab took the reins. Jessica Gao developed and wrote She-Hulk: Attorney at Law but was sidelined once director Kat Coiro came on board. Production was challenging, with COVID hitting cast and crew, and Gao was brought back to oversee post-production, a typical showrunner duty, but it’s the rare Marvel head writer who has such oversight.

---

Marvel is making concrete changes in how it makes TV. It now has plans to hire showrunners. Gao’s postproduction work on She-Hulk helped Marvel see that it would be helpful for its shows to have a creative throughline from start to finish. “It’s a term we’ve not only grown comfortable with but also learned to embrace,” says Winderbaum of showrunners and Marvel TV’s intention to hire them. The studio also plans on having full-time TV execs, rather than having executives straddle both television and film. “We need executives that are dedicated to this medium, that are going to focus on streaming, focus on television,” says Winderbaum, “because they are two different forms.”  It also is revamping its development process. Showrunners will write pilots and show bibles. The days of Marvel shooting an entire series, from She-Hulk to Secret Invasion, then looking at what’s working and what’s not, are done. And just as Loki, which returned Oct. 5, marked Marvel’s first season two of a series (out of nine TV shows to date), the studio plans on leaning into the idea of multi season serialized TV, stepping away from the limited-series format that has defined it. Marvel wants to create shows that run several seasons, where characters can take time to develop relationships with the audience rather than feeling as if they are there as a setup for a big crossover event. 

Marvel tried to reinvent the wheel but found out the hard way why TV is made the way it's made. But also, it's hilarious how Disney Marvel tried to sell this whole strategic move as solely their idea and not because WGA strike kicked them in the teeth.

So, Jac Schaeffer getting the Showrunner credit on a Disney-Marvel 'Making Of' episode is a really big win.

[thevindicativevordan]

Hi, hope you are doing well. I am the anon who asked this question about the Maker (post/730144525324009472/im-conflicted-about-the-maker-as-a-character-on) and I wanted to know what are your thoughts on the Marvel Universe as remade by the Maker? I understand that most of it is a comentary/analogy to real life events, with technocompanies rulling the USA, the USA doing experiments in the Pacific with radiation, basically everything Midas stand for, etc. But, looking from the Maker point of view, how do you think it fits with what he wants? And what do you think he wants, in the end?

Perfect time to ask me this because after I got temp banned from the CBR Forums recently, I decided to read all of Ultimate Fantastic Four. I need to amend my earlier post regarding the Maker - he does actually feel like a believable evolution on the flaws that were always present in 1610 Reed:

Even before he became a homicidal maniac, 1610 Reed Richards was a dick. There was a mean streak and petulancy that I had forgotten about. A willingness to walk riiiiiiiight up to the moral divide that was present from the very beginning. Millar, Bendis, and Ellis all established Maker as having a darker side. Using torture against Doom was on the table, he flat out rejected the possibility that he had made a mistake, he did messed up science experiments for fun. The pieces were all there! Alas the execution sucked. I still stand by what I posted here regarding the Ultimate Doom trilogy:

Bendis' depiction of his "fall" was awful and incoherent. Under Bendis, Reed instantly becomes the type of guy willing to commit cold blooded murder against both his family and other heroes for no real reason. If Reed is pissed about the military controlling everything, why is he trying to kill Peter Parker? Shouldn't he be trying to kill Nick Fury and destroy SHIELD? That at least would make sense, Ultimate Nick Fury is a fucking awful person. Instead he murders his entire family instead of just his asshole dad because... I don't know, he's just evil now. A writer can't write someone smarter than them, and Bendis is just not the guy for tackling the world's smartest heroic mind descending into villainy. Reed's plan is dumb and paper thin.

Coldly murdering his mother and sister Enid - his sister whom he went through all the effort to save from Psycho-Man in one of the final UFF arcs! - reads even more egregiously out of character. Why did he kill those two and not just his asshole dad? No clue, Bendis never bothered to give us an explanation. Trying to kill all of SHIELD after the UFF fall apart makes perfect sense to me after reading Ultimate Power for the first time. 1610 Nick Fury is evil. Fury is a monster whom even Dick Cheney would have to kneel in awe before. Asshole deserves to die and SHIELD should be destroyed. Sending suicide bombers to murder Spider-Man and his other heroic peers on the other hand?

No Bendis, you need to actually explain WTF Maker was thinking there because that makes no sense AND it doesn't line up with his previous characterization! Maker didn't want to kill the zombie F4 despite them 1. Being undead and 2. Planning to infect and eat everyone on his Earth. He wasn't willing to kill Doom even after Ultimatum. Then suddenly off-screen he becomes the kind of guy who murders his sister who only ever looked up to and worshiped him, and his mother who tried to support him and showed him nothing but love? Terrible writing, and it makes me so mad because everything else is brilliant setup unintentional though it was.

Pages like this one floored me. You read this knowing they were not setting up Maker yet somehow it perfectly does just that. The other Baxter Building kids breaking off to form their own perfect society in a secret city tucked away from private eyes? Being sick of how they were forced to serve the military? Commitment to the idea to the point they're willing to kill the F4 and any military personnel sent after them? In-universe this, and other events like Psycho-Man's utopia, likely served as the foundation for where Maker came up with the idea of the City. Everything fits! It's a natural result of Maker having an enormous ego, having seen others make their own attempts at building utopias, tossing morality aside, and going "they failed but I'll succeed. I don't make mistakes like they do."

Begs the question OP asked: why did he make Earth 6160 into the way it is? Fantastic question especially considering that both as a hero, and during his initial fall to villainy, Maker hated the "corruption" of science into a force that only served the elite.

Yet the world of 6160 is exactly what he claimed to hate! America collapsed into a realm ruled by technocrats who abused science to enrich themselves. Freaking Midas is in the White House using cosmic energy as a power source for his war suit and the electric grid. What gives? Is it just Maker being a hypocrite? Maker offers two justifications in Ultimate Invasion. First, that he ran civilization models in the City and humanity cannot accept perfect peace. If you've ever watched the Matrix you know how that argument goes. We aren't built to live in paradise. Our human natures are too fallible, when offered the option we reject it. Given Maker's god complex it does suit him that he invokes the Biblical explanation for why evil exists - human nature demands it.

However, there's a second justification. Maker treats Earth 6160 as his playground, his laboratory. He's the Emperor of the World, and with that comes those who would covet his throne. Keeping the world full of conflicts and evils keeps people divided. They're so busy fighting each other that they can't unite against him. Hitler, Genghis Khan, Bismarck, Stalin, Mao, history is full of dictators who employed similar logic to maintain power. Yes it makes him a hypocrite but Maker is beyond caring about the "small minded" dreams he had back before he jumped off the slippery slope.

Regarding what he wants power for, there are two likely motives to parallel his two justifications. I believe he is trying to create the "Ultimate Earth", an Earth that lives up to what he wanted 1610 to be. Time travelling to the future indicates that he is at the very least invested in this Earth's well-being. He saved it from Galactus, he kept the Council from spiraling out of control as they now threaten to do in his absence. He supported scientific and technological advancements that did improve life for everyone. Howard mentions curing cancer. Maker's Ultimate Earth appears to be a technologically advanced society where the peoples lives are improved at the cost of their freedom. In a single word: Latveria. Fitting for a Reed who has gone the way of Doom.

Unsurprisingly Maker's other motive is much more selfish and narcissistic: he wants to screw with Earth 6160 Reed.

Mentioned this before somewhat in my previous post:

My theory is that it's because Maker is trying to take a Reed who is similar to 616 Reed and transform the guy into a monster like him. It's his middle finger to 616 Reed. Maker wants to prove that 616 Reed isn't better than him, if Mr. Fantastic had lost his family and been put through hell like Maker had, he would break too. That 6160 Reed is, so far, not a monster like Maker pisses Maker off. It's not logical to keep 6160 Reed around, and doing so leads to Maker's fall.

Additionally there's some clear self-hatred going on.

Note the callback to UFF with the "I don't make mistakes" line. People talk about Sue rejecting the marriage offer as being the big divergence point between the 616 and 1610 Reeds. I think it goes back even further. 616 Reed was the one who messed up his friends lives. 1610 Reed however was blameless. 1610 Doom, not Reed, was the one who caused the accident that gave the Four their powers. In Ultimate Power it was Doom's meddling which was revealed to have killed millions of people despite Maker initially being blamed. Maker never had to feel the guilt that Mr. Fantastic has to live with. Always when it seemed like he had screwed up, a reveal came to absolve him of any responsibility. Arguably his two greatest pre-Maker screw-ups were teleporting to the zombie Earth and creating the Cosmic Cube and guess what? Both of those were because of external agents in the forms of zombie Reed and Thanos meddling with his head.

So having done nothing wrong his whole life, never having screwed up with nobody to blame but himself, when Sue dumped him and his whole life fell apart because he put saving the world over his personal desires in Ultimatum? Knowing, thanks to zombie Reed, that there were Reeds out there who got married and had families and kept the Four together despite making mistakes? My headcanon is that's what broke him. Also that's why he made Doom's life hell. 6160 Reed was supposed to live the life 616 Reed got, the kind of life Maker wanted. Instead he lost everything. Why? Because from Maker's point of view, Doom doesn't deserve that kind of happiness. Why should Maker, a Reed who never made mistakes, be the one Reed denied that joy while all the Reeds who are responsible for transforming their friends get to have that?

So Maker took 6160 Reed and gave him the life he thinks Mr. Fantastic should've gotten. 6160 Reed made the mistake of not double checking his notes and lost everything. He ended up with the burnt face and Doom moniker because from Maker's point of view, that is what should have happened to 616 Reed. Maker should be the beloved hero with the fantastic family as befitting a Reed who never made mistakes, not the unworthy Reeds who are fallible. In Maker's mind, 616 Reed should be the one whose Sue rejected him and became a villain. His words in Ultimate Invasion about having thought about what he and 616 Reed would be like if they swapped lives support this.

There's a beautiful symmetry going on here between Maker and Doom. Dooms usually blame Reeds for ruining their lives by sabotaging Doom's experiments. Here is a Doom for whom that belief is valid, and his obsession with Maker completely justified. Except it's himself that he's obsessed with, just as Maker is clearly obsessed with Mr. Fantastic. A grand ouroboros of Reeds chasing after one another. Fitting, for Reeds have always been their own worse enemies.

[the-sol-eater]

The scene where Xander stabs Teruko is like, hands down one of my favorite scenes in the entire series so far. Can I like, talk about that for a bit? It is genuinely such a god-tier setup for not only the themes of trust and deception in DRDT, but how it sets up one of my favorite things about the writing of DRDT as a whole. That is: how painfully aware DT-Dev is of how the standard Danganronpa tropes affect how us as audience members and fans (former or otherwise) of the canon series read and interact with fangans.

lets play spot the komaeda

()()()()() is like the byakuya/nagito/kokichi of the cast

I just hope ()()()()()() doesn't go crazy and kill in chapter 3. that would be way too predictable

()()()()() will obviously die in chapter 5

I think this scene in the LGI MV is the most upfront example of this (and though I won't get too into it because this post isn't about the David MV, I do think it's particularly interesting to note that this scene is in David's MV. Y'know, the liar character. The character that is known to put on a metaphorical mask to hide parts of himself.) And what I love so much about this is that DT-Dev uses these preconceived notions we've gained from our experience with the canon games, and uses that experience to enhance the themes of distrust and deception that are so prevalent in DRDT's story. Enter: Our lovely british boy.

this picture choice has nothing to do with the analysis by the way, I just think it's cute :) Xander is set up throughout the prologue and the first half of CH1 as Teruko's support character, presenting a very similar role to Sayaka Maizono from the first DR game, or Kaito Momota from NDRV3. Kind, upbeat, and supportive, so much so that David basically praises him for it

David: You're always full of energy and bravery to achieve your goals, no matter what they are. Yet at the same time, you're a compassionate person who takes the time to help others.

At the same time, he is by far the most mysterious character at this point of the story, due in part to his missing eye and the knowledge that it was uninjured before the events of the death game. This factor of early-game mystery also brings up some parallels between Xander and characters like Ultimate Impostor and Rantaro Amami. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think anyone was expecting Xander to survive. Given the similarities he shares with first victims of the first game I'm sure a lot of people suspected he would be the first victim of DRDT, and if not that, most likely die in Chapter 5 due to canon danganronpa's self-fulfilling prophecy of killing off the support characters in the fifth case (Chiaki, Kaito, and Kyoko if we're counting DR1's bad ending.) And this is the thing that really makes me go insane. The way DT-Dev subverts these tropes that we've grown accustomed to is by taking them and spinning them on their head. Usually giving us the same, or a similar ending to these tropes, but twisting the execution in ways that leave us surprised and second-guessing what we know. But DRDT doesn't do this immediately. In fact, the first ten episodes of the series follow a very similar formula to the danganronpa games, even having a very similar motive to the first chapter of DR1 in the form of loved ones being threatened. That is, until the end of CH1-5, in which you are hit with this.

Xander: Sorry for this.

This scene makes me go insane. Apart from being wonderfully animated, executed, and amazing for both Teruko and Xander's arcs, it is also the first clue to us as an audience that this is not an ordinary fangan, and that fully putting our trust in the knowledge we have from the canon danganronpa games is a mistake. Because that knowledge will be used to deceive us when we least expect it to. In simpler terms: All that glitters is not gold - not everything is as it seems.

[queenoftheimps]

Something I'm now catching after the events of Episode 7: at the end of the trial, Madeleine (who has not broken any Great Laws) is offered a chance to renounce Claudia and join the coven. She refuses, and is summarily executed along with Claudia and it's so so awful my girls nooo

A few episodes earlier, we find out Santiago's maker was executed for making him. So presumably Santiago was offered the same deal: join the coven or get killed. Santiago's in the coven as of 1945, so we know which choice he made.

Which raises the question: did Santiago even want to be there in the first place? What about everyone else?

How many vampires are in the coven because they wanted to be, versus having no other option? Did most of them willingly sign up for this setup of 'you can't ever leave, you now have a curfew, you cannot have outside friends, and you have to do whatever weird skits we decide to put on, no you cannot question any of this'?

For the record: this justifies NOTHING, I am not at ALL saying this makes them sympathetic for what happens, or that anything that occurs in the most recent episode is anything less that fucking horrific. I'm gonna be delighting when the whole theater burns down.

But I do think it does lend some interesting flavor on why the coven was so fast to turn on Armand, specifically.

[sepublic]

Hexside’s Presence is Minimal

It’s worth noting that Hexside was always part of the pitch bible; Of course this world has a school for magic, and it likely would’ve served as a contrast with how Luz is learning from Eda.

But then as was confirmed, Disney mandated that Hexside be more important to the plot, especially in S1, because executives think high school plots are all the rage. Of course, clever creators can still make this work (think Batman Beyond), but it does make me look back at the show because in hindsight…

I remember seeing some people wish that the show explored more of Hexside itself and its curriculum and how Luz navigated it as a human. But I suspect this was because of the creators complying by the mandate only as much as they strictly had to; Thus, they didn’t dive more into these logistics because it was never their vision for Luz to have to grapple with them anyhow.

This goes with an epiphany I’ve had; That a lot of the episodes about Hexside could easily be rewritten in a way where Luz isn’t a student. There’s really only two episodes that strictly require it, in fact.

Escape of the Palisman? Luz wants to impress Willow and Gus by getting them to the Grudgby game regardless, so she takes Owlbert regardless.

Adventures in the Elements? Luz still wants to learn her second spell and might still be afraid of being judged by Amity. Granted, there’s less pressure on Luz to make a hasty decision, and you remove some characterization of Luz not wanting to be seen as weak or any less of a witch/student due to her own trauma struggling in her other school, which plays into The First Day. But still.

Understanding Willow? Luz would still feel obligated to help her friend with her burning mind. Though you do potentially remove Luz’s culpability in the entire situation, which is setup for a flaw that is resolved in Wing it like Witches.

Enchanting Grom Fright? Eda and King aren’t enrolled at Hexside but are still allowed to participate in Grom. So Luz would still offer to help Amity with it and Bump would still accept her as a substitute.

Wing it like Witches? Luz would still care about Willow and Gus being bullied, and get in over her head confronting Boscha about it as she sees an opportunity to be Azura, and subsumes Willow’s dilemma for herself.

Agony of a Witch? You could have Luz sneak into the field trip despite not being a student, such as by dressing as one.

Escaping Expulsion? Luz would still want to help her friends with the Odalia and Alador situation. Luz saying her friends don’t deserve this, and leaving herself out, does lose the implicit self-loathing though if she isn’t enrolled at Hexside and thus suffers no consequences. But then again she agrees to get pummeled for their sake anyhow…

Through the Looking Glass Ruins? Luz does not need to be a student to comfort Gus, nor does Gus necessarily have to be at Hexside at the beginning of the episode for Luz to find him saddened.

Hunting Palismen? The Bat Queen is giving Palismen to young witches in general so even if she’s not a student, Luz would still qualify to get one and thus she’d be welcome at the event.

Eda’s Requiem? Nothing strictly says the race allows only students, just kids.

Any Sport in a Storm? Luz could still help Amity with her school book club and they’d still want to confront “Mildred Featherwhyle” afterwards.

Labyrinth Runners? This one’s pretty self-explanatory.

For the Future? They’re visiting Hexside not because of school obligations but as a refuge from the Collector’s spies. Nothing about the story demands Luz having been a student there at any point.

Really, it boils down to two episodes that actually require Luz to be enrolled at Hexside; Something Ventured, Someone Framed is all about this, and it would suck to lose this really compelling and nuanced lesson that Eda learns. But even then, one could have her learn her lesson by trying, just for Luz to change her mind independently at the end of the episode, possibly scared off by the detention pit and students like Mattholomule.

But there IS The First Day, which is about Luz engaging with Hexside. It’s about her motif of doing everything and wanting it all, the jack of all trades. It’s a love letter to the ‘boring’ weirdoes who actually like to learn at school. It’s Luz making a difference in this world, and foreshadowing for Vee and the draining spell.

In the end it’s arguably only one episode that genuinely needs Luz to be enrolled at Hexside. And I find this all fascinating because it does suggest that the creators tried to make Hexside as minimal to the story as possible, and stay as true to their vision as possible. That being said, you could argue that the writers were still affected when it came to the premise of Luz learning from Eda.

Eda’s responsible for half of Luz’s glyphs, but as for the other two? Plant is essentially done offscreen at the start of Enchanting Grom Fright, but then that episode would still have to exist and justify itself for obvious reasons. And then there’s Wing it like Witches, which is ultimately about Luz, again, learning to distinguish playing out her fantasies with actually helping. You could have a version of this lesson where Eda’s more involved in helping Luz learn the Fire Glyph, with Lilith replacing Boscha entirely.

But then we don’t get to see Amity fulfill her promise to Willow, nor additional Lumity setup. So I think it’s worth considering that S1 had to balance Luz learning not just life lessons from Eda but magic as well, with the fact that there are only four glyphs and Eda not knowing about them is crucial to Luz’s struggle and arc. And then we have other storylines with other characters, including Luz’s peers. And considering one of them is queer rep, she’s definitely justified.

All of this is to say that the writers dealt with their mandates AND made Hexside work for their narrative, while also having to deal with it as little as possible in their writing. And the execution of the premise of Luz learning magic from Eda changed by having the glyphs be something hidden for Luz to find, as part of her relationship with the Titan as a character and setting, and the backdrop of colonization rendering knowledge lost.

There’s also the glyph combos in S2, but the point is that Luz reverses the dynamic by knowing more than Eda here and returning the favor, thereby displaying her growth, while also having Eda concede to Lilith and her own vulnerabilities, giving consequences to the curse and the S1 finale’s events. Plus the story evolving past its base premise as it gets more complicated.

TL;DR The writers found a way to minimize Hexside’s footprint within the show while still making the most of its presence as they’d always intended anyhow. And so there are other factors to consider in regards to Luz learning magic from Eda having to be balanced with other storylines and ideas as well (some of which may have been pushed more by executives), and there being limited time for this period of the story before the goals change as the stakes are raised beyond Luz’s education. Not to mention how the amount of magic Luz can learn from Eda is itself limited.

I think TOH’s first season works pretty well; That said, you can believe how executive meddling led to priorities being shifted, even if all of it does matter. Except Once Upon a Swap arguably but I think that episode is fine.

[d4rkh0ney]

The best part about Folk of Air is that it's so smart??? Holly Black uses the premise "Fae can't lie, humans can" in such genius ways and I am continuously impressed by it. That's such a cool premise and the execution is reallllyyy cool. It's a perfect setup for political intrigue *and* it's full of whimsy!!

And Jude is such a compelling character. Her drive, her desire to fit in, her desire to acquire social freedom through power is the core of the book. It's Jude feeling powerless that is the cataclysm for almost every event. That's what pulls you in. Power and freedom is what the book is about. I love that about it!

The romance subplot is great and all, but I don't feel myself prioritizing it?? Even so, I love it! I'm not a YA reader usually, and even when I do read YA, I don't engage in them in that way. A lot of fantasy have romances, and rarely do I connect to them emotionally even though I'm such a romance fan but Jude and Cardan have such a unique dynamic that works to *actually* further the story. Cardan is a great character even regardless of the romance subplot, but the premise, the execution, the whimsy, and Jude's motivations and inner world are the core of these books. I think that's why I love it so much.

[imawholeassmood]

been thinking about how I would rewrite Arcane because as much as I adored it and think it is truly an incredible show and story, I cannot shake this niggling feeling that I needed just a little bit more Vi and Cait to really drive home their romantic pairing to a more satisfactory conclusion.

first, the setup for why I think something feels slightly off for me. while the creators confirmed Vi and Cait as the main romantic pairing for the show, they are not the pairing for the show. ultimately, this story is not theirs, it's Vi's and Jinx's. the show starts with them, they kick off the chain of events, and the final climax ends with them.

let's use the masterpiece that is Speed as a reference. the movie starts with Keanu and his bomb buddy. later, we are introduced to Sandra Bullock's character and it's all her and Keanu from there out. If, after the bus conclusion, Sandra was carted off to the hospital to tend to her wounds and Keanu's bomb partner was the one to join him for the final battle/resolution on the subway, the connection between Keanu and Sandra would be less impactful. Even if they gave us an epilogue of the two of the them having lunch together, it just wouldn't hit the same. so, to not have Vi and Cait pair up for the final battle and, instead, have Vi and Jinx, along with a call-back to the first episode with Vi saving Jinx from falling, it shifts their story into the limelight and puts Vi and Cait on the back burner.

Don't get me wrong, I think the sister story is a great one to tell and was solidly done, I'm just gay and a hopeless romantic who wants the lovers to get the spotlight they deserve and leave the audience (me) well and truly satisfied with the romantic pairing.

now that I've got you inside my brain, here's how I would rewrite things to give our ladies the true romance movie ending they deserved.

Vi and Cait don't separate and work together on the ground, giving us some awesome side-by-side fighting that demonstrates how in tune they are with each other ala that one edit of vi throwing cait her gun on the run. Cait still gets captured and nearly executed then stabbed which Vi witnesses and gives us the carnal scream we desperately needed. I'm not taking Mel's bullet shield away because that was epic cinema, but Vi needs to be a part of this. Jinx shows up and starts taking down the hex gate, giving Mel the chance to take down Ambessa and do whatever the heck she was doing so she and her mom can get their resolution. Vi runs to Cait and holds her in arms.

listen.

I know we all needed to see that. Vi and Cait carrying each other's injured bodies is their thing. I feel like we were robbed by not seeing Vi's reaction to Cait in this state.

the hex gate explodes and collapses, taking down Jinx and everyone in it. vi, of course, is affected, but she and her sister have already resolved their issues between the jail scene and jinx showing up to fight on her sister's side. the guilt that's tied vi's life to jinx's is no longer there. and, since the show's creators said that vi's arc was to stop being the protector, the one who will sacrifice herself to save everyone else, and when she no longer has to be that person she would choose to fall in love, she doesn't run after jinx. she stays with caitlyn and they have their moment.

we get a shot of ekko looking through the dust and rubble of the hex gate and not finding any remnants of jinx (or vander).

now we get the epilogue of cait looking at the hex gate plans and vi sitting by the fire, dirt under your nails, etc.

anyway, I will now be expecting every major show/movie to prominantly feature lesbian romance at the core because this show has spoiled me for anything else.