#sacha nation

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (IX)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,564

CW: MDI 18+, pregnancy, (difficult) grapic depictions of child birth, angst, manipulation, toxic relationship, dark/possessive Aemond, co dependency, self harm. not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

(birth seen between dividers by @zaldritzosrose)

authors note: sorry if this seems messy!

Two years had come and gone since the wedding.

Her mother had left, there reunion short lived, and all hope lost as her mother realised how easily she had lost her daughter to the greens.

Woven so far into their net, that it was impossible for her to escape.

Believing so blindly the words of Aemond and Alicent.

Finding no cause or reason to mistrust them, seeing any reason for Aemond to act cruel as her fault.

Aemond had inserted himself so thoroughly into her life now that it was impossible to tell the difference in their lives.

she would follow him around like a lost puppy, and he would tug her alone with him wherever he went.

She was always with him or in her chambers. Never anywhere alone.

And she liked it like that.

For when she was alone the dreams came.

Dreams of blood and dragons.

Dreams that only sought to bring her pain.

She could never stop them. Not truly, nor had she ever told Aemond of them, or of reason for the scratches lacing her body.

He had noticed them, of course he had, with his cock filling her day and night there was no way he hadn’t, and yet he had bit his tongue at the sight of them.

Perhaps because they were in the same place as her scares from the black cells. scares he had long grown used too, especially after he treated them. How he was her only comfort when that incident had happened, the only one she would let touch her.

He loved to remind her of how he was she only one truly they’re for her, both then and now

Married and bound by soul and law. She was his and he was hers, for two years now her life had revolved around him. She found little she for having her own thoughts and opinions, finding most of the time they were too silly or simple to be of any use.

At least that’s what Aemond would say.

But despite that she never felt small, only that he understood her. He knew her limits, her struggles and did not wish for her to suffer.

Though if you asked Aemond, and though he would never admit it, he liked her simple, complacent.

He had not only won her trust through guilt.

Guilt of her brothers’ actions, guilt of craving a bond between the brothers who caused him pain.

He had also won her love.

He remembers the day she had said it, near six moons into their marriage.

“Aemond” she had said, wrapped in his arms after a night of passion, “I…I think that I love you” she said, her voice so soft and worried.

As if despite his professions of love, his actions devotions where all fake, as if a disguise for the Aemond who had called her “my lady strong”, or the Aemond who had teased her and been so effortlessly cruel for years on end.

And though Aemond was cruel, still the man who craved to carve out her brother’s eye, who still bite his tounge every time he saw her, wishing to announce her bastardy to the court.

But he didn’t, the years of being cruel have shown him that being cruel to Aemma was not what he desired, not what she deserved.

She had been his only friend and only love, and though he did not regret the cruelty of him for years towards her, he regretted how rash he had been in it.

The game he had played with her for so long had come to ruin.

The game of making her the eldest pawn for him and the greens.

He loved her, that much was true, you could not argue he didn’t.

He just simply couldn’t show it, not when she reminded him for so long of the pain he had felt as her kid brother struck out his eye.

And know as she said “I love you” wrapped in his arms, her belles swelled with his babe, he knew he had won.

Not only had his plans to isolate her worked. Her family loosing hope with her and making her entirely his.

But now she loved him just as she once did.

He smiled, caressing her hair “I love you” he whispered, possessively.

She smiled, her usual timid smile, she went to say something more, but she bites her tongue, instead throng her head to kiss him softly.

The inner workings of Aemmas thoughts were so tricky to place.

A part of her knew she was being manipulated but she couldn’t understand it or understand why.

She understood the love Aemond felt for her and how the love she felt she had lost with her mother had been replaced with him.

But ever since her mother’s departure something had been nagging on her mind.

Her mother had insisted she had sent letter, and never received hers. It made no sense and yet the look Aemond would send her whenever she sat at his desk, reaching for a pen and paper. the pen hovering but never writing words as she tried and tried to think of what to write.

He sent her a look of worry; she wondered if it was for her or for what her letters might say.

She couldn’t understand the idea that Aemond would have prevented her mother and her reviving letters. It made no sense.

Her mind raced and raced with a million thoughts, and all her mindful return to be the dreams of blood. Blood on her hands, her sheets.

Even know a year after she had confessed her love her mind raced, her thoughts never stopped. She never had a moment of clarity, and she swore she was going mad.

The scratching had started again, and with a husband who never left her side she o idk not hide it.

He looked at her with such worry and concern.

Mother hemming her as he wrapped and bounds her arms, covering her scars and helping the to heal. Leavings off kisses as he went, begging for answers.

“Aemma, my love. What plagues you?” he asked his tone soft and sweet.

He was ever so soft at times, and yet other times he was could be brash and harsh.

“I am scared” she whispered, her head falling into her hands.

“What of?” he asked, no demanded. He had become such a fierce protector; it was after all his excuse for being so distant and cruel all those years.

“The tides, the sister” she spoke quickly, shaking her head, as images of head rolling flashed through her.

Her hand gripped her swollen stomach “my boy” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“The tides will come Aemond” she spoke in riddles. Riddles that Heleana knew all too well.

For years it had only been dreams and yet her mind was so full of dreams that sometimes they just spilled out in confusing riddles for others to pick apart.

“Tides?” he tilted his head, “the sea? Ahh the sea snake…he will recover I am sure” Aemond said softly, news had reached them of his injury, of the bids for succession of drift mark.

A part of him wanted to make his own bid, though technically Aemmas bid.

As a second son he would receive nothing, why not join the other second sons and bid for Driftmark also?

The doors to their chambers opened, Dayna, a maid, walking in with their son, a boy fast approaching his first name day, named Aerion.

“My sweet boy” Aemma said standing up with a start. She hated him being away from her, fearing he would be taken at any moment.

“Thank you, Dayna,” she whispered holding an Aerion close to her.

Aemond walked to her once more, smiling sorry as their son giggled in her arms. “you mother will be here soon” he said caressing Aerion’s cheek.

“Do you wish to greet them?” he didn’t wish to go himself, but small choices like these made Aemma feel free and not like the prisoner she truly was.

“i…I do not know” she did know, she wanted to see her mother, she had cried and cried for her, craving to see her and yet she had not once brought herself to write to her, instead she had forced herself to find the comfort of a mother in Alicent, and it was never the same.

He hummed, “I have training” he said, almost as if to grant her permission.

“I shall go then, better to introduce Aerion earlier than not” she said, nervously.

She didn’t know what she would say.

She was a stranger to all now, 2 years and passed since she had seen them, and even then, they were strangers, wishing to reignite a closeness that was long lost. Thanks to the efforts of others.

Dressed in a sea green gown, with Aerion on her hip. She stood in the courtyard awaiting her mother’s arrival. She stood alone, with few courtiers coming to great the heir, and those that had only seemed shocked when her mother stepped out of the carriage.

Sending her mother a nervous simile, Aemma walked down the steps to greet her.

“mother” she said in greeting, her voice the usual shy and timid it had always been, but never with her own mother.

Unlike her wedding, where only her mother, Jace and Luke had attended. This time, all her siblings, even the ones she had never meet and even Daemon had accompanied her.

“Aemma” her mother said breathlessly taking her in, a timid smile graced her lips.

not much more was sent between your or your family as you walked them through the halls of the keep.

Though they were greeted by few friendly faces, many turned their nose up at her mother, favouring greeting Aemma over her.

“Aemma” her mother spoke once more, sitting down in as they finally walked into her mothers’ old rooms. “How have you been?”

Huffing slightly, Aemma replied, “I have been well, muna, I- “she looked down to where Aerion sat on her hip, his curios eyes looking around the room.  “This is Aerion…your grandson” she muttered, coming to brush his hair away from his face.

He was the perfect combination of Aemma and Aemond, with silver hair and purple eyes, the shade being a perfect match of Aemmas. His face bore her nose and his shape.

“Aerion?” Rhaenrya breathed, smiling slightly as he turned to face her at the sound of his name. “I- had heard news…I am sorry that you did not writer to me of the news yourself.”

“I…it was a difficult pregnancy; I was bed bound for most of it…and with how you left things last time I- I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear from me”.

Daemond scoffed, shaking his head as if what Aemma said was a lie.

“of course…dōna riña, I would have come” Rhaenyra said, moving towards Aemma.

“You said you would visit before, and you never did”.

Rhaenrya’s heart broke, she had felt like she had truly lost her daughter. Her sweet girl had been taken from her and she had done nothing to top it, even years after realising all she had done was hide on Dragonstone wallowing in grief at loosing a daughter who still lived.

“I am sorry, tala, truly”.

Aemma softened, always one to easily take an apology and never one to hold a grudge. No matter how badly she wished too.

“Would you like to hold him?”

Her mother smiled, sighing a small sigh of relief before nodding her head and enthusiastically taking her grandson in her arms, “he looks just like you, dōna riña”.

“I think he is the perfect mix of me and Aemond” Rhaenyra flinched at the mention of him. Their conversation forms two hears prior still haunted her.

“Rhaenyra” she heard a voice say, the voice of her half-brother.

“Yes?” She answered, as Aemma was led to a corner with her ladies, trying on her wedding gown.

“Is there something on your mind?” he said teasingly.

She knew he had never liked her, especially after Driftmark. And though she had craved to be neutral with her half siblings the mere fact he had taken away her only daughter from her, made her hate him.

And now that she knew he had stolen her letters, hidden Aemmas own to her. She depside him.

Depside how Aemma trusted him and doubter her.

Rhaenyra scowled “you know exactly what’s on my mind, tell me the truth of it’.

He smirked, “hmmm, I do not know what you mean”.

“Yes, you do” she insisted, “my own daughter thinks I abandoned her, I know those are not her own thoughts”.

‘Oh, please, I only told her what she was already thinking” he smirked.

“That cannot be true” she seethed.

 “you’re not going to fix your relationship by arguing with me now are you?” he smiled, and Aemma called him over, “whether you like it or not she is to be my wife and to my Aemma, I will be here for her, and you…you will be swiftly heading back to Dragonstone, leaving her yet again” he quickly left before she could reply, not that she had much to think on as she knew everything Aemond had said was true.

The words circled her brain day and night. How had she not noticed that her daughter, her sweet loving daughter.

Her favourite child.

Had been so heavily manipulated by the greens, how her sweet girl who had promised to write every week had not sent a single letter.

And how she had let Dameon convince her to stay away. That she was better off with them her.

That she had been lost to them before she had even married Aemond.

“Yes…he is he. And the child in your belly… a boy or a girl do you think?

“I hope for a girl, though I think it to be another boy” Aemma said, smiling as her mother cooed down at Aerion.

“I believe I am to have another girl…your sister”.

“About time” Aemma joked, “I have long asked for a sister”.

“Kessa ñuha dōna riña, emā” Rhaenyra whispered, starting at her daughter as she took her son back into her arms.

yes, my sweet girl, you have.

Daemon coughed once more behind her, seeing Aemma a look she could not place.

“We should go see your grandsire now…perhaps we- I could join you for dinner?”

“I- have to ask Aemond”.

“of course…send me a note dōna riña.”

She nodded, taking her leave.

She didn’t join Aemma for dinner that night, receiving word for a smirking Aemond.

 The next day they had all gathered in the throne room, the court divided.

The blacks on one side, the greens on the other.

And Aemma, still unbeknownst to the guide, wore and emerald green dress, stood beside Aemond. Hand clutching her swollen belly.

Otto stood at the front of the throne room, speaking on behalf of her grandsire. “Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark.” Otto spoke, “As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” He moved his head to face Vaemond “The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

“My Queen, My Lord Hand.” Vaemond started. “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind.  Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.” He spoke, before being interrupted by her mother, who refused to face him.

“As it does in my sons and daughter, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir…No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition” Otto cut her off.

“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.” Otto said, allowing Vaemond to continue, a smirk on his face.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn’t recognize it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.”

Aemmas mind began to circle. The sound of blood filling her ears, the slice of a sword yet unsheathed.

Blood dripping.

A dagger slicing.

Whores dancing.

Her mind circled again and again, in a never-ending loop of green and black fading into one and ending only with death.

Her hands were covered in blood, and no matter how hard she spends them on her dress it would not go away, how could it? When the blood had yet to be spilled?

The sound of a dragon’s roar and the crashing of tides.

She screamed, covering her ears. and a head…the head of Vaemond Veleryon came rolling towards her.

Blood spilling over her gown, and more blood lacing her hands.

A sharp pain hit her then.

Her breathing grew heavy. Her hand gripping her stomach, as another sharp pain hit.

Aemond touched her then, bringing her out of her thoughts.

His face and the face of her mother and brothers filled with concern, as pain wracked through her body.

“Aemond” she breathed, her voice scared as pain, a contraction she now realised hit her once more.

Her grabbed her to him, picking her body up and running though the halls, calling for the midwives as they reached their chambers.

Her screams filled the halls of the keep.

Cries of pain and fear as the midwives told her to push and push.

Aemond, like the first birth refused to leave her side. Insistent on staying even as her grip threatened to break his hand.

“Aemma” he said in encouragement, “ñuha jorrāelagon, kostā gaomagon bisa... jelevre”.

my love, you can do this...breath.

“I can’t…Aemond please…mazverdagon ziry keligon” she begged.

Make it stop.

Rhaenyra burst in the room, tired of waiting “dōna riña” she sighed, looking over to the midwives in concern as they stood to the side talking with the maester. “I am here, my sweet…I am here”.

The maester approached them, pulling Aemond the side.

Aemma looked to her mother in fear…”no…no”

“Aemma,” Aemond said, moving back to her side “the babe…is breach” he said, and Rhaenyra saw she saw a tear leave her brother’s eye.

“Breach? no…no” she muttered.

An image of a dagger.

Of blood-soaked sheets.

A head of silver hair rolling across the floor.

She moved from her position on her bag, swiping away the hands of Aemond and her mother.

“I must stand” she muttered, holding her back as she moved away from everyone leaning against a chair as she felt the need top push once more.

“Please…tala” her mother begged, walking towards her “they can turn the babe- “

“No…no they are wrong! I can do this! I can do this” she begged to no one but herself.

“Aemma you will only hurt yourself…please” Aemond begged.

“Will you cut me?”

“Never!” he shook his head, “I would never do that, my love. Never!” he insisted as he and a midwife slowly approached her.

“We can turn the babe” the midwife insisted, and before she could utter another word, she was dragged towards the bed, eld down as the maester forced the babe to turn.

She cried out, crying in pain as the few minutes it took felt like hours.

And before she knew it, she was pushing once more and then she heard a cry.

A cry that was not her own, but her babes.

A girl.

She smiled reaching for the babe, before she was taken out of her sight, and Aemma found she was pushing once more.

Another babe.

“Twins!” The maester said in delight, as her second son was placed in her arms.

Aemond laughed in joy, before looking down and seeing the blood dripping from Aemmas thighs.

He felt like crying as he was pushed aside, his babes taken as he watched the maester work.

As he watched Aemmas eyes flutter closed.

“No…no” he muttered, going towards her only for Rhaenrya to grip him.

“don’t” she said, tears filling her own eyes “she will be fine” she said to reassure themselves “she will be fine”.

The night was long and hard, with the birth of twins.

A boy and a girl. Named Aelora and Aelor.

Ot took her three days to recover, her form weak and still as healed.

Her mother had stayed with her, day and night.

And for once in his life, he had felt a closeness with his half-sister.

A mutual understanding.

Though it would all be lost when a family dinner was called a week later.

Authors note: dont ask me why all their names are so similar it was a good idea at the time and i can't think of any other names.

taglist

@melllinaa @zillahvathek @ateliefloresdaprimavera @bellaisasleep @aleemendoza2425-blog @bunbunblogsblog @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @ka1afbr @winchesterfamiliebusiness @gghoulzz @dark-night-sky-99 @violet-potter @iamthehybrid @duckworthbean @winter-soldier-101 @apollonshootafar @deeeeexx @zzz000eee @meowtastick @flrboyd @cynic-spirit @wondergal2001 @aelora-a @amanda08319 @may-machin @sarahkimtae @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew @adira033 @babyzzlove @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @zimzala01 @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @justbelljust @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @perla434 @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @Youknownothingjohnwatson @marsmallow433

to be added to taglist

[puppy--jam]

Favourite movie: 017

directed by Larry Charles (2006)

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[guysofeurovision]

[daenystheedreamer]

So real for the Kazakhstan love,, my only passion in life is looking up pretty dresses and hats on pinterest

i have been keeping a close eye on the alphabet switch and when astana switched back to astana i cheered like THAT is how crazy this is. GLORY TO KAZAKHSTAN!!!! and central asian nomadic fashion >>>

[nando161mando]

[radiofreeskaro]

Radio Free Skaro #914 - Rate Limit Exceeded

Radio Free Skaro #914 - Rate Limit Exceeded - #DoctorWho banter! - Waris Hussein diaries! - #SDCC, Threads, and more!

http://traffic.libsyn.com/freyburg/rfs914.mp3 Download MP3 The news is sparse this week, as sparse as the Thursday/Friday schedule for San Diego Comic Con, reflecting the general malaise of the entertainment media complex in these times of IP dominance and labour strife. But that won’t stop the Three Who Rule from giving their half-baked opinions on costuming, editing video tape via razor…

[omgellendean]

So, Sacha Baron Cohen recently endorsed Kamala Harris in a fittingly racist islamophobic manner, by bringing back his character Borat. Yes, it's 2024.

Anyway, here's a 2022 investigation of SBC's vile Zionism and connections to the USA and Israeli intelligence, as well as an insight into the role of the US-American cinema as a propaganda tool.

Article: https://www.mintpressnews.com/closer-scrutiny-reveals-close-state-power-sacha-baron-cohen-really/279355/

Archived link: https://archive.is/7dSTL

Some quotes:

When asked about the national security state’s role in shaping pop culture, the former intelligence officer [John Kiriakou] said that it is “far more cynical” than most people realize, explaining:

” There is a branch inside the CIA’s Office Of Public Affairs whose job is solely to work with Hollywood Studios. This is something that the FBI has been doing since the 1940s. They’ll cooperate and give the red carpet treatment to any Hollywood studio that’s willing to make the CIA look good. “ [...]

In the end, “Brüno’s” production company did interview someone they claimed was a terrorist (in the Letterman interview, Baron Cohen described the man as such eight times in the space of three minutes). However, the person in question – Palestinian grocer and NGO worker Ayman Abu Aita – vigorously denied he was a terrorist at all. He claimed that Baron Cohen had told him the interview would be about his peace activism and that his life and business had been destroyed as a result. Abu Aita sued for nearly $100 million. The case was settled for an undisclosed sum in 2012. [...]

Even from an early age, Sacha was reportedly obsessed with the Jewish state. “He was very Zionist, very involved in Habo,” recalled one friend, referring to Habonim Dror, a left-wing Zionist group of which he was a member. Others remembered him as “a very nerdy, very funny, Israel-oriented guy” who went to live on a kibbutz in his youth. He appears to idolize Shimon Peres, traveling to meet him in 2012 and sharing quotes from the former Israeli president on his social media accounts. Peres, of course, oversaw the genocide of Palestinians in 1948, attempted to sell nuclear weapons to Apartheid South Africa, and carried out the ethnic cleansing of the Galilee region. [...]

Unsurprisingly, Baron Cohen has also campaigned fiercely against the Boycott Divestment and Sanctions (BDS) movement, presenting it as viciously antisemitic. “Boycotting? Yeah, fantastic. As long as they are Jews, it is alright. I’m not a racist, but keep the Jews out,” he said, in an attempt to satirize their position. [...]

Much of the movie is actually spent “on location” in “Kazakhstan,” where Borat takes the viewer around an unimaginably poor-looking village, making fun of how backward “his people” are. There are no Western egos or ignorance being punctured here. In fact, it was shot in a gypsy encampment in Romania, where locals were paid around $3 each to be humiliated by a man who spoke to them in a language they did not understand. The villagers were told they were appearing in a sympathetic documentary highlighting their lives. “Borat” made over $262 million at the box office. [...]

The racism was further amplified with the 2020 release of “Borat Subsequent Moviefilm.” Within the first two minutes of the sequel, Borat informs us that Kazakhstan has canceled their traditional event, “the running of the Jew,” but fortunately his country still has Holocaust Remembrance Day, “when we commemorate our heroic soldiers who ran the camps.” Borat also received an award, which he stated will be “put in our national museum along with other treasure we have confiscated from Jews.” [...]

In actual fact, as many have pointed out, Kazakhstan was a haven for Jewish people during the Holocaust, not a perpetrator of it, saving thousands of Jewish lives by taking in people from Eastern Europe and other states of the U.S.S.R. Today, the country is commended by Jewish groups as a model of tolerance. It is also, notably, not a helplessly sexist nation; Save The Children ranked it higher than the United States in its list of best countries to grow up female.

This is a rather inconvenient truth for the Israeli state-building project Baron Cohen supports. Ironically, perhaps the most shocking and newsworthy case of exposing bigotry Baron Cohen has documented has never been revealed. While in character as Brüno in Jerusalem, Baron Cohen was beaten nearly to death by an enraged crowd of homophobic Israelis, who, angered by his camp and sacrilegious attire, started stoning him, on camera. Baron Cohen was reportedly “nearly killed.” Kiriakou told MintPress that Baron Cohen told him that a rabbi even spat on him. It was the only time in his career that he broke character and desperately yelled that he was an Israeli Jew, not a homosexual foreigner. The comedian fled for his life and found refuge in a nearby store bathroom. This footage has never seen the light of day. Perhaps it sends the “wrong” message.

[dustydaydreamer]

My brother is going to nationals!!!

If his team can get funding.

I'm super proud of him and his teammates who have worked insanely hard this year to qualify. By the end of his freshman year, my brother was running a mile in just under five minutes, and this year he shaved twenty whole seconds off his personal record. In the relay race that qualified for nationals, he has been running 400 meters in less than a minute.

The thing about a relay race is you really need four fast runners to make it work. The team that qualified for nationals has two seniors, a junior, and my brother, a sophomore, and so it is unlikely that he will get another chance to go to nationals in his high school career, cause the fastest people are graduating and there aren't any promising freshmen. This is also the only chance the seniors will get, because the highschool has never been to nationals before and they're graduating.

I, and everyone on his team, would be ecstatic if anyone could donate. We've gotten to over $2000, but his coach says the high school is very unlikely to chip in at all if we don't get to $8000 after the big fundraiser this week, which would make going a lot more difficult. I don't expect to have any actual fundraising power on this platform, but I need to at least try. He's so excited about this opportunity and I don't want to see what happens to his enthusiasm and passion for running if he doesn't make it, because he has been putting every ounce of his soul into this team.

Here's the link!

[mariacallous]

Anyone who has spent even 15 minutes on TikTok over the past two months will have stumbled across more than one creator talking about Project 2025, a nearly thousand-page policy blueprint from the Heritage Foundation that outlines a radical overhaul of the government under a second Trump administration. Some of the plan’s most alarming elements—including severely restricting abortion and rolling back the rights of LGBTQ+ people—have already become major talking points in the presidential race.

But according to a new analysis from the Technology Oversight Project, Project 2025 includes hefty handouts and deregulation for big business, and the tech industry is no exception. The plan would roll back environmental regulation to the benefit of the AI and crypto industries, quash labor rights, and scrap whole regulatory agencies, handing a massive win to big companies and billionaires—including many of Trump’s own supporters in tech and Silicon Valley.

“Their desire to eliminate whole agencies that are the enforcers of antitrust, of consumer protection is a huge, huge gift to the tech industry in general,” says Sacha Haworth, executive director at the Tech Oversight Project.

One of the most drastic proposals in Project 2025 suggests abolishing the Federal Reserve altogether, which would allow banks to back their money using cryptocurrencies, if they so choose. And though some conservatives have railed against the dominance of Big Tech, Project 2025 also suggests that a second Trump administration could abolish the Federal Trade Commission (FTC), which currently has the power to enforce antitrust laws.

Project 2025 would also drastically shrink the role of the National Labor Relations Board, the independent agency that protects employees’ ability to organize and enforces fair labor practices. This could have a major knock on effect for tech companies: In January, Musk’s SpaceX filed a lawsuit in a Texas federal court claiming that the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB) was unconstitutional after the agency said the company had illegally fired eight employees who sent a letter to the company’s board saying that Musk was a “distraction and embarrassment.” Last week, a Texas judge ruled that the structure of the NLRB—which includes a director that can’t be fired by the president—was unconstitutional, and experts believe the case may wind its way to the Supreme Court.

This proposal from Project 2025 could help quash the nascent unionization efforts within the tech sector, says Darrell West, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution’s Center for Technology Innovation. “Tech, of course, relies a lot on independent contractors,” says West. “They have a lot of jobs that don't offer benefits. It's really an important part of the tech sector. And this document seems to reward those types of business.”

For emerging technologies like AI and crypto, a rollback in environmental regulations proposed by Project 2025 would mean that companies would not be accountable for the massive energy and environmental costs associated with bitcoin mining and running and cooling the data centers that make AI possible. “The tech industry can then backtrack on emission pledges, especially given that they are all in on developing AI technology,” says Haworth.

The Republican Party’s official platform for the 2024 elections is even more explicit, promising to roll back the Biden administration’s early efforts to ensure AI safety and “defend the right to mine Bitcoin.”

All of these changes would conveniently benefit some of Trump’s most vocal and important backers in Silicon Valley. Trump’s running mate, Republican senator J.D. Vance of Ohio, has long had connections to the tech industry, particularly through his former employer, billionaire founder of Palantir and longtime Trump backer Peter Thiel. (Thiel’s venture capital firm, Founder’s Fund, invested $200 million in crypto earlier this year.)

Thiel is one of several other Silicon Valley heavyweights who have recently thrown their support behind Trump. In the past month, Elon Musk and David Sacks have both been vocal about backing the former president. Venture capitalists Marc Andreessen and Ben Horowitz, whose firm a16z has invested in several crypto and AI startups, have also said they will be donating to the Trump campaign.

“They see this as their chance to prevent future regulation,” says Haworth. “They are buying the ability to avoid oversight.”

Reporting from Bloomberg found that sections of Project 2025 were written by people who have worked or lobbied for companies like Meta, Amazon, and undisclosed bitcoin companies. Both Trump and independent candidate Robert F. Kennedy Jr. have courted donors in the crypto space, and in May, the Trump campaign announced it would accept donations in cryptocurrency.

But Project 2025 wouldn’t necessarily favor all tech companies. In the document, the authors accuse Big Tech companies of attempting “to drive diverse political viewpoints from the digital town square.” The plan supports legislation that would eliminate the immunities granted to social media platforms by Section 230, which protects companies from being legally held responsible for user-generated content on their sites, and pushes for “anti-discrimination” policies that “prohibit discrimination against core political viewpoints.”

It would also seek to impose transparency rules on social platforms, saying that the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) “could require these platforms to provide greater specificity regarding their terms of service, and it could hold them accountable by prohibiting actions that are inconsistent with those plain and particular terms.”

And despite Trump’s own promise to bring back TikTok, Project 2025 suggests the administration “ban all Chinese social media apps such as TikTok and WeChat, which pose significant national security risks and expose American consumers to data and identity theft.”

West says the plan is full of contradictions when it comes to its approach to regulation. It’s also, he says, notably soft on industries where tech billionaires and venture capitalists have put a significant amount of money, namely AI and cryptocurrency. “Project 2025 is not just to be a policy statement, but to be a fundraising vehicle,” he says. “So, I think the money angle is important in terms of helping to resolve some of the seemingly inconsistencies in the regulatory approach.”

It remains to be seen how impactful Project 2025 could be on a future Republican administration. On Tuesday, Paul Dans, the director of the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025, stepped down. Though Trump himself has sought to distance himself from the plan, reporting from the Wall Street Journal indicates that while the project may be lower profile, it’s not going away. Instead, the Heritage Foundation is shifting its focus to making a list of conservative personnel who could be hired into a Republican administration to execute the party’s vision.

[dr-bastard]

Dhawan nation, may I present the trailer for ‘Wolf’ but it’s just Sacha

[mordredsheart]

the time has come for me to start evangelizing the 2012 adaptation of the mystery of edwin drood to the newly revitalized freddie fox nation

it’s a very well-done two-episode treat of a gothic murder mystery, he plays the title character and perfectly pulls off being both a total bitch (posh victorian flavor) and a total sweetheart (see previous parenthetical)

the rest of the cast is fabulous as well (sacha dhawan! tamzin merchant! matthew rhys!) and at only two hours it is very accessibly bite-sized for a dickens adaptation

join me, i have been obsessed with this story for almost two decades of my life now

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VIII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,115

CW: MDI 18+, SMUT, p in v, loss of virginity, oral (f and m receving), fingering, possesivness, corruption kink, praise kink (use of good girl) toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, co-dependancy issues, not proofread!

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

a/n sorry it took so long to update...but heres the wedding night!, next chapter will be a time skip!

(go to the divider by @zaldritzosrose, to skip the smut)

The feast passed over in the blink of an eye and before she knew it her and Aemond stood in his, or now their shared chambers.

Her belongings had been moved over during the ceremony, though they all seemed slightly out of place amongst his things.

Before, in the rare times she was in Aemond’s room, everything was always neat, nothing out of its designated spot, though his rooms lacked anything too personal, with no tapestries or rugs, nothing to permanent too show they were his.

Though it was no surprised that he seemed to have been own personal library in his rooms, with a whole wall dedicated to his collection.

Now the rooms seemed warmer, with his bookcase draped in her tapestries, the floor covered in her rugs. And his bed filled with her mountains for pillows and blankets. His room was bigger than hers, and it allowed everything, even her seemingly endless wardrobe to fit in effortlessly.  Though apart of it still felt strange. Perhaps it was how the furniture was so different from hers. Where her bed was carved with sea horses and dragons, his was bare, bar the one carving at the centre of his bed, a dragon, Vaghar.

Her vanity had been brought in, all her belongings placed perfectly, her new chemise placed carefully on the bed.

Her maid, Jeyne, had accompanied her. Taking of her dress and her jewels.

She already missed her gown, hating that she only got to where it for a few hours and would never be worn again.

“Would you like to keep it?” Jeyne asked softly, as she brushed through Aemma’s hair.

“yes” she nodded, it was such a beautiful dress, weeks and weeks had gone into the design alone. With its ivory coloured, laced with gold designs of dragons. The way the were sewn in away that they almost looked as if they were dancing, some beaded with emeralds, some with sapphires and the others beaded with black opal gems. “its too beautiful to be discarded off, may haps we could have the dress made into another gown.”

Jeyne smiled softly, “of course, princess”.

The door opened then, and Aemond entered.

Jeyne stepped back, curtsying before leaving the room.

They were alone, truly alone. It was different than all the times before, this time she stood before him, in a sheer chemise, that left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Aemond” she whispered as he stepped into the room.

He wore a rich red robe, where he had changed you did not know, but the sight of his bare chest peaking out from his robe, caused all thoughts to cease.

“Aemma,” he moved towards you, smiling, his eyes filled with something akin to a predator watching its prey. “you look stunning” he hummed, his hands coming up to play with the straps of your chemise.

You gave him a shy smile, “i-I so are you?” she said, nervously.

He hummed again, moving her strap to fall of her shoulders, “are you nervous?”                                

“yes”

He hummed, his hand reaching up to grab her breast, she gasped. “good” he whispered, “it will hurt, but only the first time, and then…then my sweet Aemma you will feel nothing but pleasure” he vowed, moving up to take her lips in his.

She moaned into his mouth, her feet stumbling backward until she landed on the bed. She gasped softly as she did. He leaned over her once they had reached the bed, his hand gasping her chin as he pulled her into another kiss, before pulling back and standing between her legs.

He kissed his thumb as he moved back to look at her, taking in her form. Her hair messed slightly, her chemise had fallen slightly, only one move away before falling off and revelling her breasts to him.

“off” he said, motioning her to stand up, nervously she did, her hands going to pull her chemises up, “no,” he said, stopping her, “I shall see all of you”

She looked down at the floor nervously, before reaching once again towards her straps.

As she pulled her chemise down, Aemond let out a loan groan.

“gods, you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen” he said, causing her to blush.

“I want to see you to.”

Aemond smirked, reaching to pull of his robe, he bared himself to her. His full form, the muscles on his chest, his half erect cock.

She blushed even more taking him in. “I think you are most handsome, Aemond” causing him to smile, a true smile. “but I want to see all of you” she insisted, moving her hand towards his face. He grabbed her hand as she reached for his eye patch. “please” she asked.

He hesitated, “why?” he almost sneered, “tis your brothers fault I lost it”

“but its not mine.” She sighed, “please Aemond, I wish to see my husband, all of him”

He sighed, before letting go of her wrist allowing her to remove his eyepatch.

He had expected her gasp in fear, retreat away from him. Instead, though she gasped, it was more in awe than anything else.

“is that a sapphire?” she asked coming to caress his scar. He nodded. “its beautiful” she sighed, before placing a soft kiss below it.

She smiled softly, as she took a step back, “have you…?” she asked, shyly, she did not know much of what was to come, bar what her septa had told her, and though she grew jealous of the idea of Aemond lying with another woman, a apart of her hoped he had, hoped he could guide her and teach her. All she wanted was to please him, make him happy, and how could she if she didn’t have him to show her how?

He nodded, smirking slightly, “of course, wife” he nodded, moving to grasp her chin, “but worry not non of them shall ever compare to you” he said as he kissed her once more. He held her face to him, gripping the back of her neck, his tongue teasing entrance into her mouth before finally pushing his tongue into her mouth. And ever submissive, Aemma allowed him to dominate her mouth. She moaned softly into his mouth, as she once again laid back on the bed, his body effortless slotting over hers.

His mouth slowly left hers, moving to kiss the nape of her neck before slowly dropping to his knees.

He sent her a smirk, as he buried himself between her thighs.

He licked her folds teasingly at first, savouring the taste of her.

She was growing wetter and wetter with each motion of his tongue, moaning softly as he started to focus his ministration on her clit.

He gripped her hips as he gave fast and quick licks to her clit, his eyes meeting hers as she gripped the bedding in pleasure.

“Husband” she moaned, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, for so long he had worshiped the sound of his name on her lips, but hearing her call him her husband? The possessive in him became tenfold. She was his, in the eyes of the gods and the realm, she was his and he was hers and nothing could change that. And gods did he love it, love her.

His tongue moved faster, realising in her moans. His arm still griped her wait, stopping her from moving his hips, though his second arm left her waist, moving his fingers to tease her whole.

She was tight, completely untouched. She gasped as he entered her, her walls clenching his fingers as they entered her.

Groaning as he imagined how they would soon feel wrapped around his cock.

Pumping his fingers in and out of her at a leisurely pace, as he sucked at her clit.

“Aemond” she moaned this time, reaching her hand to grip his hair.

He groaned as she did, before reaching out to grip her hand alongside her waist.

His fingers clenched around him, her peak approaching.

Her moans came more present, getting louder and louder before she let out a high-pitched moan, her whole body reacting as she came.

Aemond moved back slowly, taking in her messy hair and bliss ridden face.

She was out of breath, collapsing fully on the bed.

“wife” he groaned, his body moving over hers.

She smiled softly as she looked up at him.

“is that what it always feels like?” she asked, breathless.

He smirked, “It can”

“I want to do the same to you?”

He looked unsure at her request, though he had imagined fucking her face countless times, he craved to feel her hot cunt wrapped around his cock.

But as she moved up to kiss him, her hand slowly reaching down to grab his cock. He groaned as she nervously touched his cock, her face determined to please him.

“Aemma.” He groaned, as his face buried himself into the nape of her neck.

He shoved himself off her, her hands slowly falling from his cock to her thighs as he moved.

“up” he demanded, as she nervously stood from the bed. ”kneel”. She did so hesitantly, looking up at him with nervous doe eyes.

The sight alone was enough for him to cum.

his hand gripped her jaw as she looked up at him, his thumb pushing into her mouth slowly. “suck” he demanded, as her reached to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She complied without complaint, gently sucking on his thumb as he pushed it into her mouth. He groaned as she did, moving his thumb out of his mouth.

“kiss it” he said, pushing his hips so his cock moved closer to her face.

She looked up at him unsure as she kissed his tip. Her lips were soft an gentle as they kissed the tip of his cock.

“again” he groaned, as she kissed it again, her hands laid pliantly on her knees , her hair now gripped between his hands as he made a makeshift bun as he held her head to his cock as she started to pepper kisses across his cock.

“fuck, Aemma” he moaned, “open” he said, and as she did, he slowly pushed his cock between her lips.

her mouth case warm, the feeling of her mouth felt almost as delightful as he imagined the walls of her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock.

her hands slowly moved up from where they say on your knees. One hand gripped his waist, in an attempt to stabilise herself as Aemond moved her head to bob up and down his cock. the other went to reach for the base of his cock, he barley fit in her mouth, and as she gagged around his cock, causing him to groan and the eyes rolling back.

“fuck” he groaned again, “use your hand to grab what cannot fit” he moaned, moving your head faster, “move it up an- yes like that, good girl” he moaned as she started to motion her hand up and down on the part of her cock she couldn’t fit into her mouth.

He moved his hand to grip the back of her neck, his hips now thrusting forward as he slowly started to fuck her face. Though he didn’t for long as before he knew it he could feel his own peak approaching.

He tore himself from her mouth, causing her to groan at the loss of him in her mouth.

She looked up at him, bewildered, before reaching forward in an attempt to take him back in her mouth.

“no, Aemma” he laughed, pulling her body up from the floor. “on the bed.” He said, as he himself moved to lay back, patting the space beside him.

She crawled across the bed to him, stopping in front of him. His legs were spread, and she crawled into his lap, softly kissing his lips.

She could taste herself on his tongue and she was sure he could taste himself on her own tongue.

She could feel his cock between her thighs, edging closer to her cunt.

“lay back” he said against her lips.

Laying down on the bed, Aemond once again crawled on top of her. His hand moved down to her cunt, his finger gathering up her wetness as he once again teased her entrance, he pushed two fingers into her slowly, stretching her more so that he had before, preparing her for his cock.

She moaned as he did so, the stretch delightful as he pumped her full, but she still craved more, she craved his cock.

“please” she begged.

“please what?” he hummed, pumping her slowly.

“I want you” she moaned.

“you have me.” “no…I want your…your cock” she whispered the last word, feeling dirty from saying it .

“my cock?” he teased, as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yes!” she groaned, moving to grab him, “please”

He hummed, smiling softly as he positioned himself between her thighs.

He kissed her softly as he slowly pushed into her.

Her face scrunched discomfort as he stretch her and broke her maidenhead. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length.

He moaned as he fully entered her, her tight walls encasing his cock in such a delightful way.

“gods, Aemma” he moaned, as he buried his head into the nape of her neck.

“move, please” she begged after a moment, her hands moving to grip his arms, as he slowly started to thrust his hips into her. He started of slowly, allowing her time to adjust, but as she started to roll her hips into his. He began to pick up his face, slowly setting a fast rhyme. His hand moving from her sides to grip the head board as he started to pound into her.

Her moans grew louder and more high pitched, her legs moving to wrap around his waist.

“keep your eyes on me” he groaned as she closed her eyes in pleasure, her legs fell from his hips, her eyes fully fixed on his as she started to reach her peak.

The eye contact was like nothing she had experienced before. His eyes were dark, possessive, and yet also filled with love. The pure amount of emotions in her eyes pushed her to competition, as she let out a high pitched squeal, her arms gripping his pack, living small scratches as she came.

Her cunt wrapped tightly around his cock, causing Aemond o let outa moan of his own as he worked her through her orgasm, before finally letting go himself, filling her with his cum.

They got little sleep that night, with scarce few minutes before being awoke once more to heated touches, her cunt stretches with his cock in more ways than she could count. She have never felt anything like it, the pleasure beyond imaginable.

As she awoke now she traced the lines of Aemond’s face gently, taking in his beauty. He was truly spectacular, all sharp lines and edges, his silver hair and purple eye.  She envied his beauty, how Valyrian he looked and how little she did.

She hoped there children would inherit his beauty and not hers. She adored the idea of carry a little Aemond.

She smiled softly as she played with his hair, only stopping when a knock was sounded on her door.

Grabbing her robe, and quickly brushing her hair she opened the door, only to face her mother.

She smiled softly as she greeted her, “mother” she said, motioning her to step inside, her mother grimacing slightly as she took in Aemond’s sleeping from. “what can I do for you?”

Her mother sighed, looking down in shame “ we are leaving…now”

“what?”

“I- we cannot be here much longer, the- we are unwelcome so we have decided it best to leave.”

“but I just got married, I thought you would stay at least a few more days”

“I know…im sorry”

Aemma scoffed, “sorry? You do not write me, show up for a few days and then leave again! You are not sorry! You just don’t want me! I doubt you ever did!” she cried in aguish.

“no.. no Aemma, dōna riña, that’s not true.” She moved towards, her reaching for her hands only to be met with Aemma’s rejection, nyke bardutan ao naenie letters, kīvin zijo.  nyke dōrī jiōraton aōhon se nyke pendagon bona se greens- alicent se aemond hid zirȳ hen ao naejot gūrogon ao hen nyke” her mother spoke, chaing to high valyrian as if to keep what she ahd to say a secret.

i wrote you many letters, i swear it. i never got yours and i think that the greens- Alicent and Aemond hid them from you to take you from me.

“daor daor, nyke ȳdra daor belive ao!”

No no, I don’t believe you!

“iksan telling se truth, ñuha jorrāelagon, emā issare torn hen nyke se kostan daor bare naejot ūndegon ziry.  eman issare vēttan ezīmagon iā issaros se kicked hen ñuha own lenton, istin henujagon”

i am telling the truth, my love, you have been torn from me and i can not bare to see it. i have been made into a stranger and kicked from my own home, i must leave.

Aemma scoffed, “nyke- nyke, aōha verdagon bē excuses muña! Aemond vestās ao would, skoro syt shouold nyke believe ao? especially skori īlē sīr adere naejot jikagon nyke qrīdrughagon?”

i-i, your making up excuses mother! Aemond said you would, why shouold i belive you? especially when you were so quick to send me away?

Her mother let out an irritated sound, “have I lost you complete, Aemma?” she asked sadly “I have been so blind, I should have come with you, should have stayed here-“ “then stay!”

“I can’t”

“I don’t understand! What have I done?” she asked, she was confused she didn’t know what she had done, why her own mother couldn’t stay, why she had left her.

“i- you have done nothing” her mother insisted.

“so you are leaving just because you do not like me? Or is it because of Aemond? You were always against our friendship, and yet you were the one who proposed we wed! you are so-“

She was cut off by Aemond, their shouting waking him from sleep, “get out!” he demanded, “all you do is upset my wife, I shall not have it!”

And her mother left, with no complaint only sad eyes and the word goodbye. The way she said it made her feel as if her mother felt like she had lost her forever, as if this was there final goodbye.

Next part

taglist

@melllinaa @zillahvathek @ateliefloresdaprimavera @bellaisasleep @aleemendoza2425-blog @bunbunblogsblog @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @ka1afbr @winchesterfamiliebusiness @gghoulzz @dark-night-sky-99 @violet-potter @iamthehybrid @duckworthbean @winter-soldier-101 @apollonshootafar @deeeeexx @zzz000eee @meowtastick @flrboyd @cynic-spirit @wondergal2001 @aelora-a @amanda08319 @may-machin @sarahkimtae @yentroucnagol @loserwithnofriends @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @urmomsbananabread @azaleapotterblack @delaynew @adira033 @babyzzlove @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @zimzala01 @aegonswife @littlebirdgot @justbelljust

to be added to taglist

[invisibleicewands]

We, the undersigned, come together as creatives and artists, recognising the immense power held within each voice, especially those often underrepresented in our society. 

Art and creativity shapes and reflects the diverse experiences of our communities. It’s vital that politics does too, and that everyone’s voice is heard in our democracy. 

But in Britain today, as many as 8 million people are not registered to vote at their current address. Turnout of younger voters has been falling considerably.  New rules requiring photo ID risk excluding hundreds of thousands of citizens, and disproportionately affecting poorer people, those with disabilities and people from minority ethnic backgrounds.

We, the undersigned, stand united in our belief that participation in elections is not just a right, but a profound responsibility—one that should extend to everyone, at the heart of a vibrant democracy. 

That is why we urge you to join us in registering to vote for the upcoming local elections before the deadline of 23:59 on Tuesday 16 April, at https://qrco.de/giveanx. Remember, you are also eligible to register if you are a qualifying EU or Commonwealth citizen. 

We join hands with the young people leading the Give an X campaign in emphasising the importance of young people shaping the future, and we urge each and every citizen to claim their seat at the table.

Voting is not just casting a ballot; it is narrating the stories of our communities and painting a vision of a better tomorrow. In the face of huge challenges nationally and globally, that has never been more important.

Let’s all of us write the next chapter together. We Give an X – will you?

Signed,

Michael Sheen - Actor

Paapa Essiedu - Actor

Meera Syal CBE - Actor and writer

Armando Iannucci - OBE Writer, director, producer and performer

Amelia Dimoldenberg - Comedian and presenter

Billy Bragg - Singer and songwriter

Samuel West - Actor and director

Sharon Gaffka - TV personality

Es Devlin CBE - Artist and designer

Ahir Shah - Comedian

Ralf Little - Actor and writer

Sir Stephen Frears - Director

Misan Harriman - Photographer and Chair of the Southbank Centre

Mei Mac - Actor

Sally Lindsay - Actor

Siobhán McSweeney - Actor and presenter

Sir Alistair Spalding CBE - Artistic Director, Sadler's Wells

Alice Aedy - CEO, Earthrise

David Lan CBE - Writer, producer and director

Georgia Harrison - TV personality

Timothy Sheader - Artistic Director, Donmar Warehouse

Henny Finch - Executive Director, Donmar Warehouse

Paule Constable - Lighting designer and Associate Director of the National Theatre

Daniel Lismore - Sculptor and designer

Luke McQueen - Comedian

Elliot Levey - Actor

Joseph Henry - Architect

Charlie Condou - Actor

Seeta Indani - Dancer and actor

Ania Magliano - Comedian

John O'Farrell - Author and scriptwriter

Emily Berrington - Actor

Rebecca Hendin - Illustrator

Jack Guinness - Writer and founder of The Queer Bible

Michael French - Head of Games London

Joseph Zeal-Henry - Director, Sound Advice

Sacha Lord - Co-founder of The Warehouse Project & Parklife festival Sam Evans - Musical Director

Estelle van Warmelo - Director

Bernard Donoghue OBE - CEO, Association of Leading Visitor Attractions

Stephen Skeet - Director of Impact, Volunteering Matters

Kayleigh Wainwright - Director of Youth Sector Innovation, UK Youth

Joe Bailey - CEO, Brighten the Corners/Out Loud Music

Jack Gamble - Director, Campaign for the Arts

Mete Coban MBE - CEO, My Life My Say

Lauren Kay-Lambert - Co Managing Director, Shape History

Sami Gichki - Co-Chair of the #iWill Movement

[astarab1aze]

Nations & Their Cities (3)

Manj Figi - west of askarra, south of myrrdin, east of nuradan, north of the tenibressa

Capital: Sunja

Cities: Apenina, Triste, Neppali, Verona, Venita, Levin, Epaulette, Deville, Orlea, Élisabette, Empuso, Merveilleux, L'hsare

Sights: Villa Pterydon (folk hero's historic home), Pommelette (tavern), Garden of Eyes, Terrasse du Destin (terraces around Sunja), Chateau Cielle (quarters for royal guests), the Summer Palace (twin to Miraglas' Winter Palace), the Aurélie (bordel), Nuit Sacrée (Sanguinarian church), the Novella (library & publishing house), Emírí Sal Dans (dance theater), Kay Lou (packhouse), Oseyan Pointe (lighthouse), Bête Silva (beast's forest), Rovinare Fosse (where they threw plague-ridden bodies), Mandira Mangeur (face-eater temple)

Kavasta - directly north of myrrdin, chimeria to the east, strigane southwest, viostra northwest, with miraglas to the north)

Capital: Kavastok

Cities: Nishka, Sacha, Vigga, Bushka, Karstag, Savarog, Tosk, Novgorod, Derben, Norlisk, Ivana, Penstka, Sever, Kisarov, Korda

Sights: Dragon's Spine Mountains (runs the length of Kavasta), Hinge of the Dragon's Maw (part of the dragon's spine cutting through Viostra into Miraglas), Daggerwoods (pine forest), Tsatsi Pass (a series of narrow mountain passages), Bushki's Grave (folk hero's tomb ( and his lixni)), Fishmonger's Port (big big fishing town attached to Kavastok), Hargraven's Hunt (sanctified hunting grounds in Nishka Valley), Drakgora Highway (connects Kavastok with Nishka), Drakgoran Aqueducts (cut through the mountains near Kavastok), Tsaristasia (tomb for all their royalty), Zelen Dom (healing house), Dolina Palace (royal palace hidden in the mountains near Kavastok)

Kírât - hidden oasis in the dustveil, north of the diremark, northeast of vago & chimeria, south of the dife frèt

Districts: Vapari (mercantile), Kisana (field & farm), Basahi (royal), Sarya (tavern & inn), Yodai (guard/soldier), Nirmani (industry), Kali (arts & theater), Lapriya (arbory & temple)

Walls: Oasi Gate (outermost wall, around Kisana), Ganizon Gate (second & third walls between Yodai & Kisana, garrison), The Funnelweb (spiraling half-walls between Nirmani & Vapari), Lespri Gate (sixth wall & seventh walls, between Sarya & Kali), Dènye (eigth & ninth final walls sequestering & cutting between Basahi & Lapriya) 

Sights: Dragon's Breath Fields, Reformation of Goldleaf & Petta (temple to ancient Sunjatti lovers, followers of the Sightless Eye), Khuthd's Rest (tavern named for the dragon, run by Fuad), Dynna's Bakery, Dhulo Parda Kavo (catacombs beneath the citadel), Pujari Roz (temple gardens), Samjvadi Ductway (aqueducts through every district that once extended beyond Oasi Wall), Undercity Gaol, Aha Kusah (sewers & plumbing throughout the city), Farfade Arenyen (elven inn), Widowspun Center (street market in Vapari), Utsava Square, Cara Devata (temple of the four (shifter) gods), Mhavvair Asshara (temple to the elfhen father god), Nyikaam Arena, Shukaar Vole (bordel), Dasan Monument (statue dedicated to slaves of the 2nd era)

[peytons-depression-land]

With BlackBerry, Matt Johnson continues to show no other director has a better understanding of our modern, media-molded minds

For those unfamiliar, Matt Johnson is a 37-year-old Canadian indie filmmaker, whose new film BlackBerry, which he co-wrote, directed, and co-stars in, was released this past week. BlackBerry charts the rise and fall of the Canadian creators and company behind the once ubiquitous “BlackBerry” smart phone, a device that’s now a relic to the pre-iphone aughts. The film chronicles the triumphs and tribulations of the phone’s creators, underdog nerds Mike Lazaridis and Dough Fregin, and cutthroat businessman and Blackberry co-CEO Jim Balsillie, who both launched the phone to its successes and helped destroy all they created. Johnson’s previous features are The Dirties, a found footage dark comedy/drama about the lives of two film obsessed high schoolers leading up to a school shooting, and Operation Avalanche, a period thriller about low level CIA agents faking the moon landing – a film in which said agents con their way into NASA, which Johnson and his crew actually did in real life when making the low budget indie film. However, Johnson’s most iconic work, and most beloved by many, is his mockumentary comedy series, which started as a web series and was later adapted to TV, Nirvanna the Band the Show. The series details the misadventures and schemes of a fictionalized version of Johnson and his friend, musician Jay McCarrol, as they try to get their band – Nirvanna the Band – a show at the Toronto restaurant and music venue “The Rivoli.” You might know this series from the now famous "Update Day" clip in which the duo sing along to the Wii shop music. In 2021, Johnson and McCarrol even made a three-episode animated children’s spin off of Nirvanna the Band, titled Matt and Bird Break Loose. A unifying aspect of much of Johnson's work is his narrative documentary style of filmmaking, often employing real people in Sacha Baron Cohen-style moments.

Something about me: I'm kind of a Matt Johnson obsessive. Any time I meet someone from Canada under the age of 40, I ask them if they've heard of Matt Johnson or Nirvanna the Band the Show. I have multiple back-up hard drives with the complete web series and TV seasons of Nirvanna the Band because it's impossible to get/find now in the US. Anytime I'm in a large media store that sells 2nd hand movies (like Amoeba Records), I religiously spend time searching to see if, by some small chance, they have one of the physical copies of The Dirties (the ones with the variant covers that look like Criterion Collection covers) - it's kinda my physical media holy grail. My DVD of Operation Avalanche is one of my most prized possessions. Hell, I’ve even tried my hand at replicating Johnson’s style numerous times, a short film I made while at film school abroad in France being the main example. So, suffice to say: I was very excited for Blackberry.

With BlackBerry Johnson is making significant stylistic and scale leaps from his previous works, “making it to the big leagues” as someone more confident than me with sports metaphors might say. It’s a bigger movie than he’s made before, getting a limited national release here in the US, by a major indie distributor (IFC), starring two sizeable, well-known actors (It’s Always Sunny in Philidelphia’s Glenn Howerton and comedy mainstay Jay Baruchel). All this far from the rag-tag, small scale, underground nature of his previous works, where the cast was the filmmakers and the biggest names involved were Vice (and its since defunct TV network) and Kevin Smith whose company distributed The Dirties. Stylistically, BlackBerry makes the jump from Johnson’s previous found footage/mockumentary movie (both terms sounding far more derisive to the idiosyncratic style of Johnson’s films than I’d like) to a fully “traditional” narrative feature. With both The Dirties and Operation Avalanche, as well as NTBTS, the characters are involved in the actual act of filmmaking, for one reason or another, and aware of the camera filming them, the cameramen being acknowledged entities. The footage you’re watching is filmed, edited, and staring the characters on screen. But, with BlackBerry, besides a fun visual gag from Glenn Howerton at the beginning of the film, the cameras exist as they would in any normal movie – invisible watchers of the events.

What makes BlackBerry and Johnson’s filmmaking so great though is that he doesn’t just abandon all semblance of his style and aesthetic, becoming some bland gun for hire, like so many indie directors plucked from festival success to helm the next cinematic toy line for Marvel. Instead, he finds ways to work his style into this more traditional film in compelling ways. While the camera is no longer literally in the story, it still hovers around the characters, with longtime Johnson DP Jared Raab often shooting through the obstruction of windows, from far away, and with the back of heads in the foreground. The camera zooms and focuses in and out of different characters and things in the moment, cinema verité style, Johnson describing in a Q&A for the film having been influenced by documentaries like Pennebaker and Hegedus’ The War Room. The looming, documentary-like camera works perfectly for this constantly manic story of slap dash, neurotic tech wizzes and on edge CEO sociopaths, the camera matching the characters nature. For this story of greed, corporate malignancy, and the loss of ideals, the camera’s living style also feels like what you’re watching is covert, hacked CCTV footage. It makes the viewer feel like they’re seeing what actually happened: secret footage from inside the office, fly on the wall stuff, intimate to these people and these conflicts.

True to the overarching motif in Johnson’s work of media’s permanent place in our cultural language and experience, Blackberry is filled visual references to other movies: from a non-diegetic montage of famous sci-fi technology over the opening credits, to scenes of the lovable band of “Research in Motion” nerds enjoying movie nights of Raiders of the Lost Ark and They Live, to movie posters lining the walls of the RIM offices and featured on Doug’s t-shirts. Johnson perfectly described how necessary referencing other media was to his film when he explained “Pop culture that we think of as just nerdy ephemera, I believe sincerely, winds up dictating what technologists create that will become the future.” Well timed needle drops help ground the work in its specific world of a nerds 1996, 2003, and 2007, and frequent Johnson collaborator (and aforementioned co-star of Nirvanna the Band) Jay McCarrol brings a pumping synth score, not too dissimilar to Trent Reznor’s work in The Social Network, but with a uniquely quirkier, lo-fi essence that fits perfectly with the indie feel of both the film itself and its subject matter.

Thankfully we’re not entirely deprived of Johnson’s charismatic, comedic screen presence in BlackBerry. While not the Orson Wells-style leading man both in front of and behind the camera he was in his previous works, he still features in Blackberry as the third of our main 3 characters, Doug Fregin, co-engineer/creator of the famous phone, who acts in a way as the film’s audience surrogate. Despite Doug being a “goof” as Balsillie describes him, he’s the heart of the main three characters, the moral center to which we compare Balsillie’s shrewd cunning, lies, and manipulations, and Lazaridis’s tragic moral downfall from tech idealist to bottom-line businessman. Doug is undoubtedly a character in the typical “Johnsonian mold” - a movie quoting, John Carpenter t-shirt and sweatband wearing, ninja turtle loving hyperactive who uses Star Wars references in business meetings. In fact, the character seems molded in the film more on Johnson than the real man, given that, as Johnson explained, he’s a “true cipher… has never done a taped interview,” leaving Johnson with room for interpretation.

However, while Johnson delivers a more lighthearted, comedy performance, as a director he pulls some impressive dramatic performances from Howerton and Baruchel. It’s true that the movie is, at its core, a dark comedy, so there’s some great comedy in the lead performances, Howerton delivering that trademark snark and unhinged rage his Always Sunny character has become known for and Baruchel with his awkward nerdiness. I have no doubt Howerton’s scene in which he, in a rage, screams “I’m from Waterloooooo! Where the vampires hang out!” - in a moment that must be seen to be believed - will become a quoted classic before long. But the characters aren’t just farce Social Network parodies, they have depth and drama to them, a credit to Johnson’s directing and Howerton and Baruchel’s acting. You feel Balsillie’s underlying insecurity and attraction to power that drives him. You hurt seeing Lazaridis slowly turning into what he once stood against and the tragedy of him reaching his ethical “point of no return” when he agrees to the BlackBerry touchscreen phone being manufactured overseas, in order to meet budget and deadline. We also get some delightful supporting performances from the likes of Saul Rubinek, Rich Sommer, Cary Elwes, and Michael Ironside as an imposing, rotund, bolo tie wearing, hard ass COO.

BlackBerry is a tragic tale of ambition and passion succumbing to ego and greed, and in so it’s not only a movie about the tech sector, but also about the struggle of making art. Lazaridis struggles, and ultimately fails, to maintain integrity while creating a technology he loves and believes in against a world run by people like Balsillie who only seek profit and status, quality be damned as long as it sells. Anyone who makes art, especially films, is up against the same problem. There will always be Mike Lazaridis and Matt Johnson’s, there will always be Jim Balsillie’s and David Zaslav’s, and there will always be a struggle between the two: art and commerce. The tragedy comes when the creator, like Lazaridis, loses their principles, and begins creating not for the love of it, but out of obligation and out of profit. The triumphs come when the creator finds a way to take what they love, what they’re good at, and what is meaningful to them, - their vision - and deliver it to the masses with the heart intact, as Johnson has done throughout his career, now with BlackBerry more than ever. It’s up to the creator to stand fast and endure to create their meaningful works, as oftentimes the sharks will get along either way, as we see in the end credits with Balsillie, who avoided any jail time for his stock fraud committed while co-CEO of BlackBerry.

While I don’t think they're for everybody, Matt Johnson's works capture the modern media deluged culture that we all exist in better than any other modern artist or filmmaker. His movies are always about movies, whether they narratively are or not, just as our lives have become subsumed by media consumption, regurgitation, and reinterpretation. We now live in a world where almost every movie and TV show is at our fingertips 24/7 - a religion, the upgrade to dreaming, the codex we classify our existence on - and his film-making style and characters reflect that. The characters, especially the characters Johnson portray, speak in a lingua franca of movies quotes. His camera is alive and involved in the action, often literally, just as our cameras and screens are every day. His editing blends the real world with the movie world, blurring the lines. His movies are not documentaries, but they’re certainly not just fiction, something in between, a dreamlike blend for our media-soaked minds. I’ve never been one good at the rigid definitions of “modernism” and “post modernism” in art, but I have to believe Johnson is the cutting edge of whatever “post-post-post…Modern” stage we’re at currently. The Dirties is about media’s role in the lives of a youth more connected but also alienated than ever before. Operation Avalanche takes the uniquely western art form of film and uses it to represent how governments often use media to manufacture their own fictions to control the public narrative. Nirvanna the Band the Show shows how media influences our everyday lives, friendships, personalities, and dreams. And now BlackBerry serves as a cautionary tale for the fate an artist can fall to if they let their work become a product instead of a passion and art. As we drift further into the oblivion of inevitable ecological, political, social collapse, media becoming the God of our reality, Matt Johnson is our guru, beaming our media-soaked psyche back on to the screen, creating innovative, funny, compelling stories of life through the lens of a movie-fed world.

[zellaspinna]

for the nation of Argentina I need a Sacha and Franco interaction asap