#way to go kasia!
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Uprooted
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐; my favourite kind of fantasy - classic fairytale with a side of 'dont worry about the details' and 'you gotta believe in the heart of the cards!'
Oh?? 👌😉😏
a really sharp, quick-witted, and willful female protagonist going 'fuck it!' every few chapters or so and doing something crazy (crazy fun) to drive the plot forward, off a new exciting cliff
a soft magic system that really shows off in the best light what makes soft magic systems so valid. its all about the metaphors!! you have to measure the chocolate chips with your heart!!!
nature is so magical and beautiful and deadly. specifically if you treat trees bad they will form a sentient vengeful forest to raze your civilization to the ground and salt the earth with your bodies
kasia. i love an atomic blonde unkillable bad bitch with the strongest queerplatonic vibes with her best friend from birth
a CLASSIC grumpy 'beastly' male love interest. he seals himself away in a lonely tower, makes girls hang out with him for 10 years at a time, and unironically calls himself 'the Dragon'. he even has the audacity to be offended that everyone thinks he's creepy!!!!!!
No.. ❌🤢🤮
if you like having explanations for how magic works and any semblance of a hard magic system in your fantasy, put this book back. 'round here we operate on Vibes Only, babey!!
similarly, if your love language is words of affirmation and/or you think that fanfic-style romance plotlines should stay in fanfic, this romance is Not For You. this is not a judgment, only a warning
Summary:
Agnieszka loves her home in her little village in the valley - you know, except for the evil forest simply known as the Wood that's been around as long as there have been people in the valley, with terrible creatures and sentient walking trees. And the century-old wizard known only as 'the Dragon' living in the tower overlooking their land, who takes a young woman every ten years to serve him. But what Agnieszka dreads the most is that her best friend, Kasia, will be chosen next, and that Agnieszka is helpless to save her. Until the day of the choosing, when the Dragon picks Agnieszka instead.
Concept: 💭💭💭💭
I've never gotten along that well with a book blurb, but this one does its damn job - gives me enough plot premise to get me interested without giving it all away, and doesn't make me feel like I've been lied to once I start the book! some stories really don't do what they say on the tin, or take ages to get there at all, but Uprooted starts off exactly at the spot the blurb said it would - with a girl, in a valley, scared of a terrible wizard, about to be whisked away to a tower.
Execution: 💥💥💥💥💥
This story is EXACTLY what it says it wants to be, down to the cadence of the prose - a Polish folklore-inspired fairytale. The rhythm of Novik's narration even fits right - one day I'll get the audiobook for this and get to hear it the way I read it in my head, like a grandmother's bedtime story with twists and eddies and crescendos at the all the right bits. I was in love with the aesthetic of every character, they fit perfectly into the backdrop of what this story was.
Personal Enjoyment: ❤❤❤❤❤
This book aligns to my tastes much the same way An Enchantment of Ravens does, and shares of lot of the same elements without ever feeling derivative - smart girl meets magic boy, causes all kinds of irreversible political upheaval, and lives happily ever after being just as they are - a Girl with The Audacity. its a tale as old as time, and i'll hear it told just as often
Favourite Moment:
you know its a good book when you really can't choose a favourite moment - one that comes to mind is agniezska choosing to save sarkan from being grafted onto the heart-tree in the Wood instead of setting fire to it. the 'fuck it!' energy agniezska brings to her moments of crisis is SO good, plus the motif of her always reaching out to sarkan to cast magic together - 'hey real quick, cast a spell with me while you're being pulled into an evil magic tree trying to twist your magic and life force against us. couldn't hurt, eh?' and then it WORKS
Favourite Character:
now yall know i love a sarkan-esque character - pathetic wet cat men who are so offended by their own squishy feelings are a great time! and kasia is SO bad bitch extraordinaire, her and agnieszka's love for each other literally makes the plot go - every time, every time without hesitation she puts herself as the last thing standing between agnieszka and the Wood. but agniezska herself is really Something. the way she uses magic, her connection with nature and her refusal to be anything else than what she is - a grubby young woman who wields kindness as her weapon against the world, who holds onto her humanity with both hands and teeth - she shapes this fairytale to be the story she wants it to be, one of connection and empathy. and im still thinking about her introducing the lord of the whole valley to her mother 🤣 power move!!
#uprooted#naomi novik#books#book review#booklover#bookblr#reading#sarkan's refusal to bind himself to the valley is SO. one day agnieszka will stop for breath mid-bickering and really come to grips with#unpacking why he was so unokay with tying himself to the land. an orphan with incredible magical ability growing up surrounded by#power-hungry nobles? yeah that guy has trust and commitment issues. need agnieszka to fuck that out of him#i mean OF COURSE teach him that the valley is a home and not a cage (that no one will ever force him to stay not even her#that he can come and go as he pleases and still be theirs) and its ok to be tied to the people that love you and vice versa etc etc etc.#but also like. he deserves to be dommed into feeling safe enough to put down roots. as a treat.#anyway kasia x agnieszka x sarkan throuple with agnieszka as the homing beacon and kasia + sarkan as the migrating birds always circling#always knowing the way back home
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the irony of naomi novik’s books having very little fic on ao3 does not escape me. it does however annoy me a great deal
#rereading uprooted and WHERE is the Kasia gets taken instead fic. WHERE#god okay because look. i think her thing about age gaps is hilarious. i think agnieszka and sarkan is compelling#but agnieszka and kasia is soooooo much more interesting to me. loving someone you hate (but you love more)#and being envious of someone whose life you fear (but you want more)#how do you see the truth of yourself reflected in someone else’s eyes and bear the fact that you are petty and cruel in a thousand ways#how do you go about loving them with wild abandon afterwards. how do you let yourself be loved by them#and I think like. changing the story a little is a way to go about that#and the first part of it is so obvious—kasia gets taken. she is brave and tragic and kind and then marek rapes her and suddenly she’s angry#i think *that’s* a Kasia who would start taking advantage of the library and the laboratory#and I think when Agnieszka came when sarkan was off handling the chimera (because it would be her. it would always be her)#Kasia would grab some potions and come to dvernik to save everyone. and with agnieszka it would work#and THEN you get sarkan getting injured and agnieszka using his spell to get them *all* back to the tower and that’s where the fun begins#but like. god. why hasn’t someone else written it#uprooted
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Ppl luvvv to force me to break up with them instead of admitting they wanna do it. Why is that.
#nfk#about to go insane in a bad way bc#like do not make me fucking talk in circles for hours trying to pull an answer out of you for a problem that You have#IM good IM content YOURE not I’ve asked said and done all I can. what do you want to do about the problem that you have#fucking make me break up with you I swear to god GROW UUUUUUP#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#ALL FUCKING DAY !!!! I’m saying ok I understand ok what do you want ok#and you act like you don’t. know. until I finally say yeah ok. ig we would have to break up then huh#and you’re like Oh Yeah That#FUCK u#this is not about kasia for our concerned family and friends
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❝𝙨𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧❞
Pairing:
Dark!Mike Kiernan x Neighbor!Reader
Summary:
Mike liked his neighbor a little too much that he was willing to do anything to have her even if it meant destroying her if she didn’t listen.
Warning(s): SMUT. Dub-con. Implied age gap (everybody’s grown). Infidelity. Soft!dark!Mike. Possessive!Mike. Manipulation. Hints of stalking. Blackmail. Technology is involved. Like this is filthy as hell. P in V. Fingering. Oral (f-receiving). Flashbacks in italics as well as phone calls. Minors, dni!
Word Count: 3.3k
Craning his neck, Mike inhaled slowly before exhaling as he tilted his head to the original position to look out the glass panes of his window to her bedroom window across the yard.
She couldn’t see him, but he could see her. She was opting for comfort by wearing a plain t-shirt and black shorts. He could tell she was not wearing a bra underneath which sent a slight shiver down his back ah the idea of getting his hands on her breasts.
He had learned everything about her as much as he could after he noticed her the first time a year ago.
The easiest way to have some sense of connection to her was being such a friendly neighbor with phone numbers exchanged.
“Are you lonely? Is that why you call me?”
He hesitated, “yes.” He murmured, a little white lie slipped from his tongue, using one of his fingers to trace the cord that connected to the receiver from the machine. “After Kasia broke up with me, it’s very quiet around here.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. We wanted different things,” he said truthfully. He had meant what he said, but he did not want them with his former girlfriend. He wanted them with his neighbor. “Apparently she fell in love with her roommate.”
“Ouch.” He could hear her wincing, and he smiled slightly at her next words. “Fine, I’ll be your shoulder for you to cry on.” She said exasperated, but with a smile in her voice.
First photo set of her in red lacy nightgown ended up in his camera roll on his slim device the first time he spotted her standing by the window unintentionally.
Also mentally filing away the fact she had a boyfriend who didn’t appreciate her. Beers and sports parties was his go-to dates with Y/N. He knew he could treat her far better than her boyfriend ever would.
“Just because I said I’ll be willing to lean an ear for you, it means you call me every night?” She huffed into the receiver, and he grinned because he could tell it was without a bite.
“You’re being mean,” he smirked, watching the clear liquid swirling in the glass as he shifted it.
“I’m not being mean.”
“Oh, but you are.” He said albeit breathlessly.
More photos saved into his camera roll as she wore soft burgundy lacy bra and panties that night.
“I saw you a few weeks ago with your face beaten up…are you okay?”
“Eh, just a misunderstanding. I had to clear it with the schoolboard. Skunk was being bullied by her two neighbors, and I stopped them.” He shrugged although she could not see him. “Guess the girl didn’t like the consequences, conspired with her sister, and accused me of being inappropriate towards her, and their father wasn’t happy with it.”
“I’m so sorry.”
The ringing ended with a click as it was picked up. Her breathing could be heard through the receiver as he waited for her to greet him.
“Hello?”
“Come up to the back patio,” he murmured, an urgency in his tone as he spoke into the receiver.
“Mister Kiern-“
“I know for a fact you are alone with a big bowl of what did you say is your favorite snack?” He inquired as he observed her through his window blinds.
She sighed, letting out a soft laugh that sent his heart into a state of pitter patter. “Puppy Chow,” she said petulantly.
He hummed in acknowledgment; he knew that of course. “And you’re drinking something with Moscato in the biggest wine glass you could find which I do have. So come up to the patio.” He said beguilingly, attempting to convince her.
“I have a boyfriend.”
A grimace flitted across his face. “I know but fuck him.” He said bluntly, irritation coated his tongue as he spoke into the receiver. “It doesn’t hurt to hang with friends. We are friends, aren’t we?”
A long pause then a sigh. “Fine, I’ll be there.” She relented.
He couldn't stop the toothy grin from spreading across his face. “Alright.”
Mike had been filling their wine glasses with her favorite wine twice now since she had been here for forty-five minutes.
He enjoyed being in her presence; however, she had to stop calling him by his last name as if it was going set any boundaries between them.
“Stop calling me mister Kiernan,” he murmured, sucking in his bottom lip, and swiping his tongue across it.
She looked at him in surprise. “What else am I supposed to call you?” She was confused, and he chuckled slightly.
“My name.” He stated the obvious.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He stared at her. “Say my name.” He leaned in, using his nose to graze the curve of her cheekbone. “Say my name,” he repeated softly.
Her lips parted; his eyes flickered down to them while he was internally smirking. She was almost susceptible to his wiles. Although he was silently begging for her to say his given name.
“Mike.” It was a whisper. A word that bridged the distance between them in a way despite not moving at all.
He tilted his head slightly, observing her facial features. “You’re stunning,” he breathed, staring at her.
She shifted slightly in her seat, clearly, she was uncomfortable with the compliment he gave her. “You’re just lonely and I’m the only one who’s willing to deal with you.”
Mike chuckled, seeing how she was attempting to deflect him. “I’ve been wanting to say that since I met you,” he admitted.
She hesitated, eyeing him before reaching for her bag. “This is inappropriate. I…I have to go,” she said quickly, stuttering as she stood up from patio sofa.
His hand snapped around her wrist in a vice grip as she attempted to walk past his legs that were in her way, he tilted his head to the side as he peered up at her. A hint of amusement in the lilt of his smile as if he found her attempting to leave funny.
“I have photos of you in your underwear,” the words were spoken in a calm tone, building the tension towards the threat. “If you leave now, I will gladly send them to your boyfriend.” He said casually, his thumb rubbed absentmindedly across her wrist.
She looked at him with wide eyes. “When did you…?” She trailed off, and he knew she was afraid of the answer.
“Every time you changed by the window. You forgot you had an audience across from you, didn’t you?” His tone went from calm to almost condescending with a hint of rhetorician since they both knew the answer. She had truly no idea she had a peeping tom club of one member.
“You wouldn’t.”
His lips curled to the side in a form of a nasty smirk. “Oh, but I would.” He then chuckled, without a sense of humor in his tone.
“We didn’t do anything, it’s just me changing my clothes by the window.” Her voice was weak, trodden like.
“Well, your boyfriend wouldn’t know that, would he?” He questioned flippantly, almost mockingly as his eyebrows raised. “All I have to do is send him those risqué photos without any context and he would just take it how it is.”
Her bottom lip trembled as she swallowed, “why are you doing this?” He knew she felt betrayed by him…more of his intentions since they were not true honest to begin with, and she was just figuring that out.
“I’m just tired of not having what I want…” his eyes trailed from her eyes down to her wrist that he held with a precision of a tight grip, “and what I want is you. Now sit next to me, sweetheart.” His tone booked no space for arguments.
His grip on her wrist eased up when she sat down next to him. He heard a slight echo noise when she dropped her bag next to her leg.
He inhaled slowly and deeply as his eyes roved over her body, relieved after all this time he finally got what he wanted.
Mike placed his hand on her knee, right next to her hands, gliding his thumb over her skin.
“I just want you.” He said softly, nudging her hand with his before he grabbed it.
Her breathing turned erratic, as a hot shiver of delight went through him as his hand eased her onto his covered pulsating cock and he began a fluid stroke in her palm, “you feel that?” He rasped into her ear, “that’s what you do to me. You’ve been doing this to me for a year.”
He could tell she was mentally calculating the math of when he had felt this way. “Ever since I moved here?”
“Even then.”
He wound his hands into her hair, cradling her head almost reverently, while he hungrily, desperately, violently, met her lips with a savage force.
He knew the circumstances were not idealistic, he knew she did not want him, at least not like this, but he was desperate for her.
His heart raced as she seemed to accept his request. He smiled softly into her lips and moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the furniture, his body pressed against the curve of her thigh as he pulled his glasses off his face and set them on the table beside them.
He leaned away slightly with an intent of reaching out with his hand and gently raising her shirt until the sliver of her breast began to reveal to his hungry eyes.
He then leaned down and started kissing her skin under her breast, lightly licking the flesh as he did so. His lips were teasing, making sure that she enjoyed every moment before slowly building up the intensity.
He was going to make sure she would like it even if she did not want to.
His tongue moved from the skin to the edge of her breast, his tongue slowly kissing along the edge as he pushed the hem of her shirt to reveal more of her breast.
His lips curled slightly when he heard her whimpering, especially when he nipped the curve of her breast before trailing his tongue from the spot to her nipple.
His lips continued to nibble on her breast while his tongue swirled around her nipple; gently teasing it. His hands moved up to her shirt, quickly removing it completely so that she was shirtless in front of him.
He leaned back, his gaze locked on her body before his fingers slowly traced down the curve of her body, moving from her chest to her hips before placing his hands on them.
He took a second to appreciate her body before his fingers slid into the waistline of her shorts, slowly easing them down her thighs. After he dropped the article of clothing next to the patio furniture, he settled his hands on her ankles.
“Spread your legs for me.” He said breathlessly, almost inaudibly as her legs parted, exposing her thighs to his ravenous gaze.
His hands trailed from her ankles to her thighs, gripping them before he reached for her fabric covered cunt, tracing his index and middle fingers down her slit before pressing into her folds.
She was soaking wet, and he could feel it through the fabric.
He smirked at her soft little pants as she let him touch her clit through her underwear. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of her hips shifting, her thighs widening slightly as he traced her sensitive spot.
He continued sliding his fingers of his other hand along the soft skin of her thighs, his thumb gently teasing the edge of her underwear.
He then leaned back to stand up, removing his shirt in process until he was bare chest. Then he removed his pants, only in his boxer briefs.
Mike grinned as she watched him remove his shirt and his pants, exposing the shape of his slim muscles and pale chest. Her gaze was roaming over his body before he sat back down in the same spot, leaning forward again.
Mike’s fingers moved to the edges of her underwear, beginning the process of removing them.
She closed her thighs so he could get the underwear down easily before parting them even wider to expose her vulnerable spot to him.
He smirked at her easy cooperation as she parted her thighs. He had expected her to be a little hesitant and resistant, but she wasn’t making this a challenge.
His fingers moved her folds apart to reveal her swollen clit after he removed her underwear.
As she was now exposed to his hungry gaze, Mike leaned down to kiss her spot, lips caressed her folds gently before parting it to let his tongue trail up her cunt, lapping at her wetness. He swallowed it before kissing her spot again, then leaned back to look up at her face, his lips curved into a soft grin as he observed her reaction.
Her lips parted as her eyelids were closed tightly. Her face was flushed from arousal.
“Such a sensitive girl,” he cooed softly, rumbling softly in his chest.
Opening her eyes, she flushed profusely. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just…I’ve never been touched.” She mumbled.
Mike chuckled, however a thrill shot down his spine at the thought of being the first one to take her, despite having a boyfriend and knowing she used her sex toys to play with herself.
His chuckle faded, only humming to indicate his understanding before he leaned down to kiss her sensitive spot again.
“There’s no need to apologize,” he said softly, his lips still on her cunt. “I was just…observing how sensitive you are.”
He kissed her clit again, this time, using his tongue to explore the texture on her sensitive spot, gently kissing and lapping at her cunt some more until her hips began to shift slowly as she parted her thighs even wider.
He then leaned back slightly to grab his phone that was lying on coffee table, and he looked up to see her gaze on him. She was confused, looking at him with a question in her eyes, clearly waiting for an explanation.
“I just need to capture these moments,” he responded softly, a smirk on his lips as she parted her thighs even more, exposing her sensitive cunt to the dimming light of the sky. “I want to remember every moment of you.”
She breathed, looking away shyly before closing her eyes .
He felt her skin as he parted her folds slightly, feeling her hole gaping slightly as he did so then he bit down his bottom lip as he pressed the icon that indicated a photo being taken.
He parted her folds even more, this time, moving his finger gently into her hole. He felt it tightened slightly around his finger as he took another picture.
“I need these images of you,” he murmured as he took another picture. More pictures began to pile into his camera roll, more digital prints to jerk himself off to later whenever she was not available.
Mike’s breath grew deeper from the sight of her lips parted and her eyes clamped shut from the soft noises she was letting out as he pushed down on the side of the opening to make it gape wider.
He felt her walls attempting to tighten around his finger as she whimpered, and he took another picture, this time, making sure that the camera captured the up-close position of her cunt.
He smiled softly, eyeing her as she opened her eyes, and he placed his phone aside to her thigh. He took a long look at her, observing her reaction as he withdrew his finger from her cunt.
He then reached for his underwear, pushing them down his hips then his pale thighs. Pushing them off to the side after it reached around his ankles, then he propped himself onto his knees on the cushion between her thighs.
Mike inhaled sharply when he noticed her curious eyes on his cock, he slowly began to hover her, wanting to keep her gaze on it while his eyes were locked on her cunt, his body and demeanor suggesting that he was ready to take her body and make her his for his own enjoyment.
He dragged her thighs until the back of her thighs meets the sides of his legs. Making him almost pressing against her. while he was stroking himself lightly, he only placed the thick tip of his cock against her little hole with no intention of taking her just yet.
His body language was one pure dominance and lust. He had a grip on her thighs, keeping her legs from moving too much so that he could fully enjoy her body however he pleased.
Mike moved her legs as he adjusted the position of his body over her body. He had his device ready once again, the thick tip of his cock placed against her little hole.
He smirked to himself as he aimed the camera at her cunt, getting the picture he desired.
He then switched over to video format, pressing to record as he used his other hand to use his thumb to stretch the hole lightly, teasing his thick tip with it as it gaped slightly. His throat rumbled with a slight groan as her hole was beginning to stretch by his thumb and the feeling of it felt good against his cock.
He made her legs part even more as he held her thighs, keeping her in place to ensure that he wouldn’t miss a thing, that the recording wouldn’t miss the sight of it.
He pushed into her opening just very slightly, letting her feel the tip of the thick head of his cock before pulling away slightly and repeating the process.
He was enjoying the expression on her face, seeing how she squeezed her eyes shut and let out soft little whimpers.
His fingers were firm on her folds, keeping them apart as he continued teasing her hole, pushing his cock in into her cunt slightly and then pulling out as he filmed it.
His eyes then widened as he saw her hands pulling her folds apart to make her little hole gape wide, exposing her sensitive area beautifully to the camera. He groaned a bit at her action and used his thumb to slowly trace her hole as she kept her thighs parted while letting him film it.
Mike pushed his thick tip into her opening with more force this time, the tip slowly slid into her hole. His breathing became deeper, almost ragged as he slowly entered her cunt deeper than before.
He stopped filming it, throwing the phone to the side and gave her a harsh thrust as he slammed the rest of his cock into her, making her cry out.
He let out a grunt as he felt the heat enveloped his girth, “fuck.” He breathed as he gripped her hips tightly. His fingers flexing into her skin as he reared back and thrusted back into her with such force.
She whined loudly, arching her back before he began to drag her along with him as he eased himself onto the cushion, his back pressed against the patio furniture.
She muttered brokenly as she sunk down on his length. “I- “ she was out of breath already, her eyes half lidded as her hands held onto his shoulders.
“Fuck.” His hands grabbed her hips to control her motions, using his hands to guide her up and down. “Taking me so good,” he grunted in her ear before leaning away slightly. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her bouncing on top of his thighs.
#mike kiernan#broken (2012)#cillian murphy x reader#mike kiernan x reader#Mike Kiernan x you#Mike Kiernan x y/n
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The Challenge {2/2}
Aemond Targaryen x fem!bladesmith!reader
Summary: It is time to deliver the sword to the prince.
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, jousting, smut, caught in the act
WC: 3.9k
HOTD Masterlist || Part One || Part Two
Two weeks passed quickly as you worked tirelessly on Prince Aemond’s sword.
You had not heard from him since he left that morning and you were not sure whether or not you had expected him to send a message of some kind before you made the journey to King’s Landing. You couldn’t deny you were a little disappointed he hadn’t sent a raven - if for no other reason than to check in on the progress of your work.
Nevertheless, you had gone above and beyond to create the masterpiece before you.
It was by far the most expensive piece you had invested in and the twin sapphires alone had cost a small fortune but after being inset into the eyes of the dragon on the pommel you knew it was worth it.
The sword was made of manganese steel imported from Dothraki, which was far lighter than iron, and had been folded with carbon dozens of times over to increase the tensile strength of the metal. The fierce dragon had been carved into the manganese steel and then dipped in gold but the snarling teeth were made of white gold and polished to perfection.
There was no way to mistake this for any common blade and it was truly fit for royalty.
A local leatherworker had taken the measurements of the sword and made a scabbard that would protect it while it was not in use and you slid the sword into the sheath before locking it into a travel box.
“Your carriage is ready to leave, mistress,” Gerry said after knocking at your bedroom door. “Oh, you look lovely.”
The dress was stiff and uncomfortable and you wished you could travel in more sedate clothes but in public such a scandal could lead to incarceration and that would be bad for business. The other option was to wear the heavy cloaks of your work attire but even after a thorough washing they never smelt or looked very pleasant.
“I look like a meringue,” you murmured, shrugging the puffy sleeves that capped just above your elbow.
“Nonsense,” Gerry said with a giggle, taking it upon herself to straighten the layers of skirts so they hung neatly. “The prince will be lost for words, mistress.”
You narrowed your eyes at your housemaid. “What makes you say that?”
She couldn’t suppress the smile that she tried to hide behind her hand and shook her head. “The girls talk, mistress. Kasia and Tiff heard from Kyron, the stable boy, that the prince and his guard were arguing before they left.”
You shouldn't have been interested in gossip but you were leaning forward in anticipation as her smile grew. Finally you lost patience and huffed as she forced you to ask, “Arguing about what?”
“You, of course.”
“Me?”
“Aye, the prince confessed he had fallen to temptation of the flesh. That had to be you, right, mistress,” she said with a wink. “I imagine his highness has a date with the High Septon on his return. You were careful, right?”
You rolled your eyes and gave a droll nod. “Yes, mother.”
“Don’t bite my head off, I promised your ma I would watch over you, bless her soul. Now be on your way, it is a long ride.”
Kasia was already waiting at the front of the house with the carriage and you climbed into the cab before making space for her. You would have preferred for Gerry to make the three day journey with you but she wasn’t comfortable going anywhere near the capital, and you didn’t pry to find out why.
The carriage driver whipped the reins and you jostled with the movement, eventually falling into a routine sway as the horses ambled along the road that would take you south to King's Landing.
The noise of the crowd was unlike anything you had heard and the musicians playing an upbeat tune only added to the cacophony. Peddlers worked the stands around the stadium, selling their merchandise to the viewers, while food stalls were erected outside with the scent of their goods almost eradicating the smell from the horse stables beyond.
Finding space on a bench seat, you pulled Kasia down beside you and stilled her leg that kept bouncing excitedly with every match that went by. You had arrived later than expected when the wheel of the carriage broke outside of Rosby and so far Ser Criston hadn’t lost a match in both jousting and sword fighting, but you were hoping to catch the next one.
You were beginning to tire of the harsh sun that beat down, the temperature enough to rival your workshop, and ready to find some solace in the shade when the next trumpets fared for the jousting final.
“Mistress, that is Prince Jacaerys,” Kasia gasped as she pointed to the house flag that had been raised and a chestnut steed trotted into the lists with a helmeted rider upon its back. “Who would dare strike a prince?”
You had an inkling as you looked to the other side of the arena and saw the flag of House Cole being draped onto the rung. “Unbelievable.”
A white stallion leisurely walked into the lists and you were the only one who wasn’t surprised to see Prince Aemond riding atop with his helmet tucked under his arm. Whispers began to spread along the rows of viewers as they realised it had been the One-Eyed Prince fighting under his knight’s banner the entire time.
“What is the meaning of this, Aemond?” King Viserys asked as he rose slowly from the royal box.
“It was pointed out that fighting as a prince may lead my opponents to go easy on me, and I would not have that shame,” he said with a smirk thrown Jacaerys’ way. “That need not be a problem now will it, nephew?”
Prince Jacaerys pushed his visor up over his helmet and dark hair tumbled out to frame his face. Even from so far away you could see his brown eyes were full of disdain and his jaw was clenched as he spoke through his teeth, “No problem, Uncle.”
It would have been embarrassing should he have said otherwise, he would have been practically admitting he only reached the finals because of his royal title whether or not it was true.
“Well played,” you chuckled to yourself as you watched Prince Aemond place his helmet on his head and shove a gloved hand out for his steward to give him the lance.
In the royal box the mothers, Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenrya, shot to their feet and rushed to the edge balustrade with concern etched into their faces. The look they shared both held reprehension for the other and you briefly wondered what it was about before a cheer erupted and your attention was brought back to the match.
The princes spurred their horses forward with a kick of the stirrups and you leaned forward in your seat with the rest of the crowd.
There was not a whisper in the air as anticipation held the spectators in silent suspension. To cheer either prince would be to insult the other so not a sound was made.
The horses reached the fence and raced towards each other with thundering hoofbeats. The distance narrowed and no one took a breath as they lowered their lances, the blunt tips aimed at the other.
From your vantage point in the stands you could see how Prince Aemond’s head was turned far more than Prince Jacaerys’ to account for the lost vision in his left eye but his aim was still well positioned. With the extra height he had over his nephew, Aemond’s reach was greater and his lance smashed into the Velaryon’s chest, glancing off the armour and under the shoulder plate.
A collective wince hissed across the crowd and the younger prince screamed as he was thrown from his horse. The scream was echoed by his mother and Princess Rhaenyra rushed from the royal box to check on his welfare along with the maesters. At least given the painful squirming on the ground, he was certainly alive.
Prince Aemond tore his helmet off and his silver hair shimmered in the brutal sunlight, it was almost too bright to look at directly but even with the glare there was no hiding the smirk on his face. Dismounting to the dirt, he sauntered over to his nephew and dropped to one knee beside him, his hand hovering over the wound he had dealt.
How you wished to be close enough to hear what he said, because although he looked like he was offering condolences there was no mistaking the disdain on his face or the amusement when Jacaerys weakly tried to push him away.
Looking up, Aemond saw his half sister nearing and rose to his feet, swiftly leaving the arena without a care for the splatterings of polite clapping for his win.
“That is my queue,” you said to Kasia as you grabbed the boxed sword from where you had kept it safely hidden beneath your skirts and rose to your feet. “I shall see you back at the inn for dinner.”
It wasn’t difficult to find Prince Aemond with his hair like a beacon. Everyone gave him a wide berth in the streets except for his trusted knight who noticed your approach first and sighed heavily. It was the sigh that caught Aemond’s attention and he turned to see what had elicited the annoyed sound from his friend.
The surefooted prince stumbled as he spotted you and his eye travelled your body from head to toe twice before he blinked and recovered.
“I almost didn’t recognise you,” he admitted and nodded his head to Ser Criston. “You may leave, I am sure my mother will want to accost you for the role you played today.”
The white cloak knight didn’t look pleased but nodded back before casting a glance your way and shaking his head. You couldn’t help but send him a sweet smile and bat your lashes at him with a dainty wave of your fingers, earning a chuff of a laugh from the prince.
“Blessed name day, my prince,” you greeted him when you were alone and once more walking towards the Red Keep. You held the box out for him, grateful you no longer had to lug it around the city. “As requested.”
“Do you have a sister?” he asked, taking it from your hands and tucking it under one arm. “You look rather similar to a woman I met a few weeks ago, though she was a little more scrappy and rather filthy.”
“Ha ha,” you exaggerated with a roll of your eyes. “Here I thought you were a prince but I have been fooled by a court jester. Funny how one and two are the same.”
“There she is.” He grinned and opened a door that led to a courtyard but the small joy he had disappeared in the company of the few people milling about. They shifted uncomfortably in his presence and the place fell silent until he had passed under an archway and turned down a corridor.
You were utterly lost by the many turns it took to come to the room he eventually led you, closing the door behind with a click of the lock.
The box thudded as he placed it on a writing desk that was covered with books and letters with the dragon crest drawn upon. They couldn’t have been important as he shoved them aside and unlatched the lid.
“Congratulations on your win,” you said as he opened the reward. “You must be proud.”
“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” Prince Aemond retorted as he unsheathed the sword before twirling it in his hands. “I just wanted to see the look on that bastard's face when he lost.”
He continued to inspect the weapon, staring down its length to ensure it was straight before pricking his finger on the tip to test how sharp it was. He gave a satisfied hum at the conclusion and you bit your lip at the reminder of the similar sounds he had made.
Finally he brought the pommel closer and peered at the intricate dragon with intense scrutiny. “Incredible.”
“I’m almost reluctant to part ways with it,” you teased and he gripped the handle tighter as if he were prepared to fight you for it. “But you seem rather attached already and I’m feeling charitable.”
“How generous of you.” He rolled his eye and sheathed the sword before buckling the scabbard to his belt and pointing to a large purse on the table. “I suppose that means I can return that small fortune to the coffers then.”
You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not that charitable.”
Unaccustomed to wearing dresses, you hadn’t realised crossing your arms had pushed your breasts up dangerously high and they were barely contained by the corset. It was only the lingering stare of the prince and the widening of his eye that drew your attention down where he was fixated.
“Not one raven, not even a ‘hello, how have you been?’” you tutted and ran your fingertips teasingly over the skin of your bosom. “I should be insulted.”
His eye followed the movement hungrily. “You have the attention of a prince, insulted is not the word that comes to mind.” One long stride closed the distance and you craned your head back to hold his stare.
“Did you confess your sins to the Septon?” you had to know as you felt the heat of his armour warming your skin. “Did you repent for the sordid touch?”
“I did. And I swore I would banish all thoughts of you from my mind.” He swallowed deeply and reached for the bowtie that held the laces of your corset together. “I did so knowing it was a lie.”
You cursed under your breath as his words affected you more than you expected and you covered his hand with yours, guiding it to the delicate laces so he would hurry up and free you from the constraints of the dress. You could finally breathe liberally and you inhaled deeply as the heavy materials fell to the floor but there wasn’t time to waste as you reached for his armour.
Your deft fingers made quick work of the buckles and Aemond caught the heavy plates before they could clatter to the floor, instead depositing them to the side where they wouldn’t cause an accident.
Next went his damp clothes, the material strewn across the room as you wrapped each layer like a gift - eager to get to the prize that waited beneath.
“I’ve heard men fuck like a lion after fighting in a tourney, like the sweat gets their blood pumping,” you stated as you push him into the chair in front of his desk and straddled his lap.
He grabbed your hips and lined himself up with your entrance, pulling up down his length until you couldn’t take anymore and gasped at the fullness. He still wasn’t done, not when he wanted to tease you with more than his body, his lips following the line of your jaw until he reached your ear and whispered, “Lions are nothing compared to a dragon.”
Your nails dug into his shoulders as you held on tight and rolled your hips to take your pleasure from him. He let you have your moment, enjoying the warmth of your cunt as it tightened around him and the press of your breasts to his skin, but then he wanted to chase his own ecstasy and gripped your hips. His arms should have been weak and trembling from the day spent fighting but they were still strong as he guided you up and down his cock.
“Fuck, Aemond, you feel so good.”
“Hmm,” he growled in your ear, “I am your prince.”
“You can be my prince out there but right now you are just a man, now fuck me like one.”
In an instant you were empty and he was on his feet, spinning you around and bending you over his desk. The void you were missing was filled with one rough thrust and his hand slapped over your mouth to muffle the cry of dark pleasure that erupted.
Gone was the restraint, gone was the control. Prince Aemond was unleashed.
The wood cut into your hips and his ink pot spilled, books tumbled to the floor and the armour resting against the table leg toppled over. The clatter of metal was like the herald bells being struck and shouts came from outside the door.
“Fuck,” Aemond growled at the knock that quickly followed. “Go away.”
“My prince, it is your mother,” Ser Criston called out.
“Fuck.” This time the sound wasn’t from frustration but fear and he pulled out in a rush to find his clothes scattered around the room. “Give me a minute.”
“Cole, move,” a surprisingly stern order came from a gentle feminine voice and the lock on the door was opened from the outside before the door swung open.
“Mother,” Aemond greeted quietly as he covered his manhood and bowed his head.
“I expect this unbecoming behaviour from your brother but,” she sighed dramatically and Aemond’s head dipped further at the disappointment radiating from his mother, “not my sweet Aemond.”
You coughed a laugh and covered your mouth as the sound drew her attention to you. You didn’t have enough hands to cover your nakedness and your dress was inconveniently in a head at her feet.
“Who are you?”
“I’m no one, your highness,” you said as you shifted on your feet and tried to shimmy across to hide behind the prince.
“Her name is Y/N,” Ser Criston said without even stepping into the room.
“The bladesmith you visited, who is also the daughter of the metal merchant?” she confirmed as she took a second look at you before turning her back. “Cover yourselves.”
“Yes, mother.” Aemond grabbed your dress first and tossed it with more force than necessary before swiping his own undershorts up from the floor. “I will go to the Sept and confess.”
“Don’t bother,” Alicent scoffed with a toss of her head. “You are not contrite. No, I have another way for you to repent and save your honour.”
It was far harder to get the dress back on than it was to get off, especially since it had taken the help of Kasia last time. You were still busy trying to thread the laces back through the eyelets when the Queen dropped the bomb.
“You will wed her, Aemond. I won’t have any more shame on this house.”
“Mother,” Aemond interrupted but she held up a hand to silence him, something that wasn’t going to stop you.
“Beg your pardon, majesty, but fuck that. I’ll take a vow of silence and be on my way out of this dreadful city.”
“Silence? From you?” she said with a humourless laugh. “If the people weren't still watching the tourney the entire residence would have heard your filth. No, I’ve made up my mind.”
“More like lost it,” you uttered before Aemond pinned you with a glare that had you closing your mouth once again.
“Cole, make sure my son’s betrothed finds her way to her own room. Alone.” With that she departed and Aemond’s posture slumped.
The moment she was out of hearing range you turned to him. “I’m serious, I’m not marrying you, or anyone for that matter.”
“I don’t believe we have a choice.”
“I do.” You tied a knot in the lace just enough to be sure it wouldn’t suddenly come apart as you stormed out of the room and straight into that bothersome guard. “Move.” Ser Criston looked at the prince but you snapped your fingers in front of his face. “I’m talking to you, so don’t look at him.”
“Let her pass,” Aemond said and your head spun incredulously towards him to find him already dressed. “I’ll escort her.”
“To the ladies wing?” he asked as he moved aside and let you through.
“To the stables.” Aemond caught your arm and turned away from his guard to head in the other direction. “I’ll not marry a stranger because I wanted to wet my prick.”
“How uncouth,” you teased as you hurried to match his pace through the Red Keep. “Such a filthy mouth, Prince Aemond.”
He growled as he pushed you against the cold stone wall and caged you between his arms, his erection hard against your hip through the layers of cloth separating you. “Now is not the time to tease me.”
“Yeah?” you pushed back, grinding yourself shamelessly against him in the empty hall. “Or what?”
Aemond’s fist hit the stone with a groan before his hand circled your wrist and tugged you with a renewed pace. “You were born of the Seven Hells, I swear.”
“What makes you say that, my prince?” I asked sweetly. “My devilish good looks or what was it my stable boy overheard…oh yes, my tempting flesh?”
Aemond opened a door and the irritating smell of stale dust told you the storage room was not often used before he pushed you inside and closed the door behind him. “This is the last time,” he promised himself as he bunched the material of your skirt up over your waist and freed himself from his trousers.
You knew you would miss the feeling of him stretching your cunt with each thrust and the way he stroked your walls until they clenched around him. None of your past lovers had been able to fill you quite like he did, or take your attitude either.
“You can always visit me,” you offered in a moment of weakness as the tension of the oncoming orgasm built, “when your sword needs taking care of.”
The sounds of your bodies slapping together filled the room and the table you were sitting upon rocked as Aemond filled the space between your legs. His hand dropped your skirts so he could cradle your face, his thumb tracing your lips. “The bladesmiths here will suffice.”
“I wasn’t talking about that sword.” You nipped at his thumb and smirked, feeling him react instantly as he rutted harder against you. Your legs wrapped around his and your hands slipped under his shirt as you pulled him closer, chasing the high that was cresting inside you.
Your orgasm erased your ability to think and your body jerked as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. The feel of your cunt pulsing around him tipped the prince over the edge and he released a shuddering breath as he spilled himself within you.
There was no time to enjoy the afterglow and Aemond tucked himself back into his trousers before pulling your skirt down over your legs that were still dangling off the table.
“I doubt my mother will let me leave the keep for a while after this,” he said as he helped you off the table and onto shaking legs.
“Do you always do what your mother says?” You asked him, fixing one of the clasps of his vest that had come undone.
“Don’t.”
Your lips twitched as you saw the fire in his eye. “Don’t what, my prince?”
“Don’t challenge me.”
“Afraid to lose?”
He chuckled and caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger. His teeth bared as he leaned closer and his silver hair brushed your shoulder while his hot breath kissed your skin.
“You should know by now…I never lose.”
Tagging: @hopebaker , @padfooteyes , @fan-goddess , @whitefang1919 , @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed , @let-love-bleeds-red , @raven1234321
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x y/n#aemond x y/n#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond smut#aemond imagine#hotd fanfic
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Ko-Fi prompt from @kayasurin:
Economy topic - Trickle Down Economics, why they work/don't work
HI it's been two months since I got this prompt, so. Sorry about that. been a lot going on in my personal life, so let's hope this makes up for the wait.
(To anyone who was considering doing a ko-fi prompt... I promise to get to them, but I cannot promise a reasonable time frame, sorry.)
So, Trickle-down economics, and if they work.
Short answer: They absolutely don't.
Longer answer that you actually paid for:
Trickle-down is basically a propaganda-driven hustle that rich people run against the working class. It's an economic theory that is known to not function, but since it serves the people up top to keep pushing it, we still have to deal with people pretending it's a real thing.
The basic concept of it is that if the capitalists at the top are allowed to retain more money (less taxes), then that money will naturally find its way lower down the pyramid through natural market forces. If a wealthy individual is allowed to keep an extra 50% of their marginal income, then the bulk of that 50% will go into their businesses, reinvested to generate more wealth by purchasing new equipment, running R&D, and paying more money to more workers. By not paying the taxes, they wealthiest classes can direct their money as they see fit, so really they don't end up with any more money than they would have if they paid their taxes!
As you can guess, this is not what actually happens in almost every possible application of the theory.
First, let's address the concept of marginal tax rates. They get a lot of hate, but I find this infographic explains the reality best:
(source: This post, but originally from Kasia Babis on The Nib/@thenib)
To summarize for those using a screen reader:
Let's say you earn 50k every year, and we're not going to bother with currency, because this is a simplified explanation. In this scenario, there is a national/federal income tax of approximately 20%. With that, you give 10k to the government, and retain 40k for your own purposes.
You have a neighbor who makes 500k every year. In this hypothetical, a marginal tax rate applies to earnings over 100k. The marginal tax rate is 70%. What does that mean for your neighbor?
They pay 20% on the 100k, which is 20k. Then they pay 70% on the remaining 400k, which is 280k. Combining the base tax and marginal, they are taxed 300k.
At the end of the day, they are left with 200k. The total tax on their income is 60%. If you're following along, you can tell that regardless of the final percentage, anyone that the marginal tax applies to is always going to get to keep at least 80k, the amount left of the pay that is taxed at the base rate.
The more you earn, the more you are taxed. Again, this is super simplified, but this is the most basic way marginal taxation works. (Tax brackets are related but not entirely the same thing.)
With a marginal tax, exorbitant wealth is curtailed by forcing that wealth back into the system. The understanding is that nobody can actually perform hundreds of times more labor than their lowest-paid worker, and so all that surplus income was in some way not distributed properly. They get to keep enough to live on, quite comfortably, but not all of it.
There may be some companies that are willing to cap their highest wages in relation to their lowest, but those are far and few between. There's a reason the average ratio of CEO to entry level worker in the US is nearly 400:1... up from 1965's 20:1. (source)
Trickle-down theorizes that, if allowed to keep that exorbitant wealth, the Capitalists will distribute that wealth back to their workers or reinvest it into productive enterprise, and do so in response to market forces or out of fear of a return of the marginal tax.
This is not what happens, basically ever. People do not earn that much money if they are already paying a living wage and distributing wealth properly. You cannot get exorbitantly wealthy through anything other than wage theft, system abuse, or capital-based market manipulation (see: hedge funds, housing market).
I suppose you could inherit the money, or win the lottery, but the latter is actually taxed higher than the former, believe it or not. The United States federal government doesn't have an inheritance tax, and most states also don't. There might be various legal fees and such, but not any actual taxes.
Where we end up is that those taxes the rich don't have to pay go instead towards 'passive income' schemes and market manipulation like the housing market.
(That is an entire separate rant, but yeah, most of the housing market at that income bracket is, to some degree, deliberately manipulated by those involved in it. We are all 100% watching for that bubble burst that is inevitably heading our way.)
The wealth does not trickle down to the workers. It is guided by those who have it, and they are significantly more likely to put it in foreign bank accounts, liquid assets, and real estate that they hope will gain value for a capital gain at sale.
Trickle-down economics relies on the goodwill of the wealthy, but almost nobody gets that wealthy by having goodwill to spare.
(Prompt me on ko-fi!)
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Strahdtober Day 29 - Sun
"The Abbey of Saint Markovia
May her light cure all illness."
We didn't explore the abbey a whole lot when we first went there. My DM tends to stay pretty close to how the campaign is written but the Abbey I know he's going to change a bit. (should we explore more of it when we make our way back to Krezk)
I cannot wait to see how he expands upon her Lore. I know "the big twist" as he discussed it with me in regards to Kasia, but I have no idea how he'll do the reveal or how he'll change the legend around Markovia or the actions/roles she played. But I'm chomping at the bit for it.
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What are your favourite Jonah’s projects? ☺️🎬
~ plays TikTok Sound~
OH MY GOODNESS I LOVE THIS QUESTIOOOONNN
So since May 2023 (what happened there? I have no idea 😉) I've watched everything Jonah-related I could get my hands on (except for Little Women, but I'm definetly going to watch that later this year).
My top 3 Jonah projects OTHER than The Little Mermaid (because truth be told, I think it's pretty clear how obsessed I am with that movie and it's not really a fair comparison to some of the more indepent, even low budget projects Jonah has starred in) so far:
1. World on Fire (2019 - 2023)
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created by: Peter Bowker
directed by: Chanya Button, Thomas Napper, Adam Smith, Andy Wilson
Jonah plays: Harry Chase
Big shocker, right? Given how much I already rambled about Harry and Kasia (my traumatised parents) and how upset I was when they cancelled it. I will always mourn this show for the huge potential it had.
World on Fire is a BBC-show following different people in Britain, Poland, Germany and France (with some American viewpoints as well) as they have to endure and navigate their life through World War II. Doesnt really sound like anything we haven't seen, right? However, World on Fire is worth checking out imo, since it differs a lot from the usual Hollywood-infused war epics, because rather than focusing on the politics or the big battles, the show looks more closely at the everyday person that actually had to live through this tragedy and how they deal with what's happening. That being said, obviously this is still a show about WW II, so there definitely IS depiction of violence, murder and torture, as well as bombings, gunfire etc., so please be careful if you find any of those things triggering. I personally found some episodes quite hard to get through.
I think it's interesting that Jonah's filmography is very heavy on projects set during or related to WW II (additionally to WoF you have The Song of Names, Ashes in the Snow and ofc coming up The Tattooist of Auschwitz). Theories on why that is are welcome!
Harry Chase (brilliantly brought to life by our favourite British simp) differs quite a bit from many of Jonah's other roles in that he`s not your heroic, clean-cut good guy (like Andrius, Lucas, Mo or Prince Eric). He's insecure and a little helpless, even cowardly at times. Harry starts out as a translator, but later joins the British Army and the SOE. He fucks up repeatedly, both in his role as lieutenant, as well as in his personal life. Even though most of the time he means well, his cowardice ends up hurting a lot of people and leads him to be in the middle of a love triangle. (Though to me it's not a triangle, but rather a straight line, Team Kasia all the way.)
Harry, though deeply troubled, is a very kind and soft soul. That doesn't really pair well with the acts of war, as well as british society in the 1940s in general, which leads to conflict with other characters and their idea of who he should be. Especially when he clashes with his mother Robina (portrayed by the absolute MAGNIFICENT Lesley Manville, shes giving Emily Gilmore in the best way possible), Jonahs acting is ON POINT. His performance is so nuanced: He's angry, he's desperate, he's sad, but also condescending, sarcastic and hostile towards her. The interesting thing about Harry is the journey he takes. To watch him try to better himself by dealing with past trauma and taking responsibility for present mistakes. The real standout for his character is episode 5 of season 1 where he finally steps up and takes charge. This is also when he starts earning the respect of his sergeant Stan (Blake Harrison) for the first time - they have a real bromance, both on and off the show, I LIVE for these two.
But - just like in real life - he doesn't have this one breakthrough moment and everything is smooth sailing from there. He fluctuates, just like a real person would. He still has the tendency to run away from his problems, but I think what he's seen in the war, what happened at home and (yes, I'm making this about my ship) his love for Kasia (Zofia Wichlacz) make him realise the type of man he wants to be and he would probably try to act accordingly IF WE GOT A THIRD SEASON, BBC! 😤😡🤬
2. Old Boys (2018)
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directed by: Toby MacDonald
Jonah plays: Henry "Winch" Winchester
If you can only watch one Jonah movie, I beg of you MAKE IT THIS ONE!
I`ve found next to nothing about Old Boys and that seriously has to change. (watched the entire movie again, getting my non-existing gif-making skills ready, just the night before I got this ask, talk about fate)
This movie is so underrated, it doesn't even have a Wikipedia entry. Make it make sense! How is nobody watching this cutie-patootie work of art? Its adorkable in the best sense of the word, it's heartwarming, a little silly and oh! so funny!
It's losely based on the play Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand, set in an all-boys british boarding school in the 1980s. Given the source material, catfishing is definetly a thing here, keep that in mind if you might find that topic difficult.
Alex Lawther's character Amberson (cliché school nerd and victim of bullying) falls in love with the new french teachers daughter Agnes (Pauline Etienne) who in turn has a crush on First-Class-Himbo Winch (portrayed by a beautiful, dimple-faced, british actor). Because Agnes is very artistic and looking for someone that matches her vibe, Amberson helps Winch to try to impress her, because Winch himself is... well... a little dim 😅.
Winch is easily my favourite Jonah character to date (yes, including Prince Eric). I have seriously considered changing my tumblr-name to themightywinch because of him. I mean... he's corteous and punctual, after all 🤣😍.
While not the main character, he's definetly the highlight of the movie. Jonah is likeable, charming, the right kind of awkward in the right moments, has fantastic comedic timing and great chemistry with Alex Lawther.
Just look at that scene alone! IT`S. SO. CUTE!!! (cute-raging over here 😡) Watching this just makes you wish Jonah would star in more comedies, because he definetly has the skills for it! This is just a feel-good movie that leaves you smiling with a warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart. It has easily become one of my new comfort watches. Old Boys just never fails to make me laugh and I wish it would get more attention and recognition since it definetly deserves it! (like at least write a Wikipedia article about it) Btw, I bought this on Prime for 99ct, best money I ever spend!
3. The Last Photograph (2017)
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(the trailer says 2019, but the movie was originally shown at the Edinburgh Film Festival in 2017)
directed by: Danny Huston
Jonah plays: Luke Hammond
Fair warning, this movie is gut-wrenching. I don't know if this qualifies as an actual trigger-warning, but this movie deals with the loss of a child/ death of a young person, as well as the real life tragedy of the Pan Am Flight 103 bombed in 1988 so proceed with caution.
Luke Hammond (Dimples McGee) is on said flight to visit his long-distance girlfriend Kate (Stacy Martin) in New York. Kate's and Luke's first meeting is a little awkward imo, I think it's meant to be like a meet-cute, especially with the whole "Bird"-thing, it just doesn't really work for me. But the rest of their love story is very endearing, they're just two young people experiencing love for the first time. Their time together is told through seemingly random, incoherent flashbacks and memories, just giving little glimpses of what their relationship was like and it's the cutest thing. Little intimate touches, hidden smiles, shared laughter... It's shot in a way as if you're watching them through rose-colored glasses, which is probably the point.
I love the way this movie uses different lighting and colour changes to depict a difference in the time line as well as the emotional state of the characters.
We only see Luke in flashbacks (guess why) and follow his dad Tom (Danny Huston) in present day (which in this case means 2003) as he is desperately trying to retrieve the last photograph (hence the titel) he possesses of his son after his bag was stolen. To see Tom slowly losing his grip as he grows more and more desperate to find the picture is truely heartbreaking. (It's a polaroid, so there are no copies, this is truely the last memory he has of Luke. God, I'm tearing up while writing this.)
Because Luke is basically just seen through the memory of his father who obviously holds him in high regard/ romanticizes the idea of his son, he is portrayed in a solely positive light, which usually wouldn't give much dimension to his character. Yet Jonah still manages to fill this role with life and witt and charisma, making you understand why Bird fell for him. He's sweet, romantic, a little bit shy, which works really well here, has the cutest laugh and clearly cares really deeply for his father. He's definetly portrayed as the "you simply have to love him" kinda guy, which is why his absence cuts so deep.
This is also in huge parts due to Danny Huston's performance. Honestly, the sweater-scenes (or jumper, if you're british 😉) almost broke me. And don't even get me started on his letter to Kate or Kate's letter to him... ugh. It's. So. SAD.
This is obviously not for everyday watch. However, even though The Last Photograph is heartbreaking, it doesn't necessarily leave you hopeless and depressed. This movie feels like a loving tribute to an actual person and therefore has a beauty in its melancholy. Throughout Tom's journey there is hope and forgiveness towards himself. There's a beautiful symmetry to the whole thing. The ending feels almost satisfying if you can say that in this context.
I also wanna give a shoutout to This Is The Night (2021). The movie itself isn't that great, it's a little all over the place and I think they tried to do a little too much all at once. But I looo~oooved Jonah in this, Christians character arc is by far the most interesting one and I wish the script gave their character justice in the way Jonah's and Naomi's acting did. (Also this is the HOTTEST he's ever looked which is a bit ironic).
This list is probably going to be outdated soon, since he has a lot coming out in the near future (I'm especially excited for Rich Flu).
Sorry, if this is too long and rambly and if it took too long for me to answer, I got a little carried away and suddenly had a lot of gifs to make 😅.
Thank you soooo much for the ask, @measuredmotion ❤️.
#jonah hauer king#jhk the king#jhk#jonah andre hauer king#world on fire#world on fire bbc#harry chase#old boys#old boys movie#henry winchester#the mighty winch#winch#alex lawther#the last photograph#luke hammond#danny huston#the little mermaid 2023#this is the night#naomi watts#measuredmotion#feel free to ask away i live for this shit
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《Not a wink of sleep~
《 Pairing: Lady Lesso x !sick !never reader
《 I think purple and green go well together ;)
Tw: !cursing
"I didn't sleep.." You groaned turning over to meet Hester's glare on your body.
"Are you serious." Anadil sighed and turned on her lamp, brushing aside her white hair covering her red eyes. Narrowing them at your fidgeting fingers.
"Well I can get an extra 2 minutes.." Dot wearily said covering her head from Anadil's bright lamp.
"I'm serious.." You sat up, "I drank a cup of warm milk before going to sleep, but I didnt.." Letting out a silent groan your head found its way into your pillow and you internally screamed.
Hester snickered, Anadil followed suit and Dot groaned taking the covers off of her head getting out of bed.
Soon Hester laughed allowing all three of them to laugh and you to sulk. The moment was trashed by Dot ripping open the dark curtains (They have curtains >:(..) making Anadil dive under her bedsheets.
"Time for breakfast!" Dot exclaimed making you all groan.
Anadil looked at your tired form. "You look like you get by with 1 hour of sleep every night. I wont even sugar coat it." Anadil said and chuckled.
As you all walked to your side of the hall, an ever had tripped infront of you twisting her ankle.
"Oh sh_t, are you alright..?" You panicked kneeling down to throw her arm around your shoulder hearing a faint whisper of "yes, I'm fine, thank you.."
"I'll catch up with you lot, go on.." You said walking with the girl.
"But.. you know what will happen.." Dot warned and you smiled.
Making your way to the ever's side of the hall a bunch of fairies blocked your way, looking behind you.
"Hello, uhm, I have to take this girl to the infirmary.. do you know where that.." You trailed off hearing the sound of heavy footsteps and clinking armor behind you.
"You've got to be f*cking me.." You whispered and set the ever down on a nearby chair making the fairies yelp in surprise.
"Look, you take care of her, while I get taken care of.." You narrowed your eyes as your hands were restrainted around your back.
"My name is Kasia by the way!" she winced as you were thrashed to the side by the wolves.
"Pleasure to meet you!" You said presenting your best smile at her from a distance.
"Oh dear, Kasia, you alright?" Another ever ran to her aid.
"Yes, Aaliyah I'm fine.." she winced again as Aaliyah supported her limp to the infirmary.
The wolves shoved you into the icey cold chamber and and clasped the chains around your wrists, ankles and neck almost stringing you up.
"Pleasant customer service.. I rate it.. a 1 out of 5 stars.." You laughed as the wolves growled making sure you were secured.
They then left without a word, you sweatdropped. (The version of the doom room is from the book, I may use both appearances from the book and movie.)
Your head met the wall behind you letting you close your eyes. "What an upgrade.. this room is right beneath the Dean's classroom.. she said it was warmer.. not colder." You let a toothy smirk grace you features.
You heard the sound of rubber gloves coming in contact against skin as well as the clicking of heels against the stone floor and stopped smirking. (I think she'd look hot in gloves..)
'Dont tell me its..' you thought leaning you head off of the wall. Your startled eyes were met with crazy curly copper hair.
"Beast went missing, so I have to deal with you brats.." Lesso muttered looking up before a smug smirk lit up her face. "This is wonderful.." Lesso let out a giggle and pulled on her gloves with her canines, smirking.
With a groan your head hit the back of the wall again, closing your eyes.
"What the hell," You laughed. "I thought a wolf was supposed to be ridding me of my sanity?" You shot a glare at Lesso as her body inched closer to yours. She hid her face in your shoulder and undid your restraints, stepping away.
"What the.." You almost fell but she caught you pulled you closer by your waist. "Why are you treating me like this..?" You muttered, eyes almost closing due to the close proximity of the two bodies.
"You didnt sleep last night, did you.." Lesso glared and took your face in her hands, staring off into your eyes. You dozed off into hers, your body felt weak.. (weak ash :) ) allowing the darkness to envelope your vision.
You woke up in a unfamiliar looking room and observed your surroundings. You looked down, beside you and saw the messy red head staring at you with a wicked smile.
You flinched back and was pinned to the bed by both of your arms. She then straddled your legs and looked down at you with a frown of authority.
"You're not going anywhere.. You're sick." She said and snapped making belts appear like snakes in the air and dove down to your wrists, ankles, and waist.
You blushed and tried to sit up but the pressure of Lesso on your lap wouldnt let you. With a groan you relaxed onto the bed and submitted to her attempt to get you still.
She was wearing a black vest with matching black pants and tie, complementing her white shirt.
Her hand felt your forehead, she saw your red cheeks and thought you were burning up. A look of realization was plastered on her face, then contorted to one of pride. She hopped off of the bed and walked to get a cold cloth from the bathroom.
You looked to the side and avoided eye contact when she placed it upon your forehead.
"I know you would much prefer my hands instead, but this will have to substitute.." She smugly said not before scratching under your chin as if you were a cat with her long finger nails, she kissed your forehead.
You let out an unintentional whimper, before folding your lips. Pulling on her trench coat, and gripping her cane, she sauntered out leaving you with a flustered expression in her bed.
#fanfic#lady lesso#lady lesso x reader#leonora lesso#school for good and evil#mommy#x reader#dean of evil#charlize theron
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INTERVIEW WITH LESLEY MANVILLE ABOUT WORLD ON FIRE S2
How important was it to do a second series of World on Fire?
We always intended to return. Of course, we made the first series back in 2018 which screened in 2019 - and we all know what happened then! But we’re back and the scripts are just so lovely and rich, with new characters coming in. Robina is again holding the fort with all sorts of family problems she couldn't possibly have foreseen.
Robina has some fantastic lines - you must love playing her.
I do! I think that Peter’s written her so well and he's surpassed himself this time - she's got some corkingly good lines that are so arch. Robina is so deliciously posh, eaten up by the protocol of everything. There’s also something more than a little theatrical about her. She reminds me of one of those women in a Restoration or Feydeau farce. I mean, obviously, I can't play her quite that large, tempting though it is sometimes...
Is that why you enjoy playing her, the way in which she’s suffering in silence, putting up emotional barriers?
Peter has written some really moving scenes, but Robina is eaten up with a conviction that you mustn't show your emotions, you're not tactile, you can't hug anyone, not even your own family. These are the unspoken rules handed down through the generations. She finds it really difficult to show her son, Harry, love and affection - but she's broken when she sees news footage of the soldiers fighting out in Cairo, wondering if he’s dead or alive. It's a very rich tapestry of emotions. There are also some lovely funny bits, which are delicious to play, because she's steeped in class snobbery, but you can't help liking her. She's a real person with deep feelings and emotions but they’re buried, buried, buried…
Robina is very protective of Jan and baby Vera, showing wonderful tenderness.
Jan is now living with Robina who finds herself becoming the mother she never thought she would be. Obviously, she's not young, but she realises that being a surrogate mother is as important as being a real, biological mother - and she's also looking after her baby granddaughter, Vera. She might have been a terrible mother, but she's turning into a really good grandmother and grows to love Vera. She also feels very strongly that Lois should not have abandoned her daughter, however much she didn’t want to be a mother. But Robina picks up that baton and takes on the challenging responsibilities of looking after a new-born baby.
Robina is very direct and doesn't mince her words, as is Kasia who comes to live with her. How does that work out?
Robina doesn’t rate her daughter-in-law very highly as a woman. In her view, being married comes with lots of responsibilities, whilst Kasia just wants to go off and fight - which isn’t what women do. All of this is making Robina question everything - she realises that she was an unhappy wife, an unhappy mother – but now she sees these young women doing it all differently which leaves her in a state of emotional chaos.
Tell us about Sir James, the suave, sophisticated man who arrives at Robina’s door.
Sir James, played by Mark Bonnar, is very gently wooing Robina, and she's not prepared for that at all. At first she’s wary - he's a good guy who's a bit edgy. But that makes her like him even more. He's definitely a smooth operator, pulling out all the stops… he’s also a bit younger than me which makes me look really good!
And there’s a different look to her this time around…
Robina’s been flirted with for five minutes, so she's let her hair down – literally!
Can you describe the relationship between Robina and her son Harry?
If only Robina could hold Harry and tell him: “You’re my son and I love you” - but she’s incapable of doing that. She's also very disappointed in him because he's got a ‘factory girl’ pregnant and a Polish wife who really doesn't want to be married to him. If there was one thing Robina expected in her life, it was that it would be linear and clean, but there are frayed edges and messiness everywhere - and in her opinion, Harry is the cause of all of that chaos.
There are lots of period dramas – what makes World on Fire special?
World on Fire is unique because it deals with so many different storylines meaning you see the war from many angles, from very personal, private, small stories to great big epic tales and you see what those people fighting on the front lines were going through. Characters like Robina feed in a bit of light relief which I think is needed in a drama about a horrific subject. But it’s a timely story and one we must never forget.
WORLD ON FIRE SEASON 2 (Premiere on July 16, 2023, on BBC One)
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Recapping Chapters 86 - 90
Dani and Adele explain to Harry that the reason Astrid Feyling is such a big deal is because she is the only person currently at Durmstrang who is directly in line to inherit a Dark Alliance seat.
Kasia asks to meet with Harry, having seen him talking with Astrid at lunch. She warns him that Astrid collects people, and she doesn’t want to see Harry be used. Kasia speaks from personal experience; there was a time in first year when Astrid showed her similar interest, before something changed and she was cut out. Her cousin, Lucja, remains friends with Astrid — at least one of the reasons the cousins do not get along.
Harry has his catch up lesson with Professor Sylvan after school, and he learns the way he has been taught Occlumency by his grandfather is wrong. The teacher provides him with some pamphlets for tutors who might agree to teach him in Britain.
When Harry is signing up for the Mabon feast, Quidditch try outs, and Professor Abioye’s First Aid course later that evening, he runs into a sixth year Phoenix. The other boy introduces himself as Taras Nazarenko, and although his magical core seems normal, Harry gets the distinct impression of ritual magic from him.
Harry writes to Tom again, expressing to him his concern about the necromantic influence of the diary, given he has a roommate with a light magical core. He feels he needs to put the diary in the magical suppression container, but he wanted to tell Tom first, before he did so.
Tom explains to Harry that being in the container cut him off completely from the world, and Harry realises it was the cause of some distress or discomfort for Tom.
He is torn, however, Tom assures him that for Harry’s roommate to be impacted by necromantic influence, he must interact directly with the hypothetical item.
Harry questions why Tom did not tell him the full truth about necromantic influence, and Tom tells him that in his day, if a person demonstrated knowledge about necromancy beyond what you could find in an average book, that person disappeared. Until Harry learns to defend himself, and his mind, Tom will not be discussing necromancy further with him.
Harry is frustrated, but trusting what Tom has shared with him is true, he agrees to keep the diary in his school trunk and not the magical container.
Harry plans to meet with Ezra that weekend for a mediation session by the hörgr, although he is fairly certain that the strange reaction of his magic was due to his headaches, and his magic must be developing to react to illness and injury.
In his first World History class, Harry notices his magic reacts in the same way to his teacher, Professor Lis, as it did to his housemate, Taras.
During the class, Professor Lis tells the students about Ezra’s study into wandless spellcraft, and confirms ‘Subject A’ was the only child in the study to succeed in using wandless spellcraft. Harry notices Liam watching him closely, and although the other boy wants to talk with Harry after class, he avoids him to go meet Astrid in the library.
Astrid recommends certain books to Harry, and she tells him about the War of Princes. They get to know one another better, and discuss a Norwegian folktale about unicorns. In this part of the world, unicorns are viewed as harbingers of doom. Harry wonders what it means for Britain, that it has the largest population of unicorns in the world, and in particular, a large herd lives in the Forbidden Forest beside Hogwarts.
Harry is annoyed in the following couple of days as students react with surprise and scrutiny to his closeness to Astrid.
Dani speaks with him privately after class, explaining that those who hold seats on the Dark Alliance accept counsel from their family members, but each also has a select group of people who are not always related to them, who they accept advice from. The people Astrid chooses to surround herself with now, might one day be part of her inner circle of advisors. Dani likens getting her notice to getting a golden ticket to power and recognition.
Harry denies any intent to use Astrid in this way, even though Dani suggests Astrid might have the power and resources one day to lobby the British Ministry to improve laws around the Dark Arts.
As Harry and Dani finish talking, he notices the flash of something bright in the boughs of the oak tree they are standing under. He also feels a flicker of ritual magic, which quickly fades.
When Harry and Dani walk away, he could have sworn he heard a tinkling laugh.
Harry goes on a tour of the school with Léna and the first year Phoenixes, and during the tour he senses something strange from a corridor in the main school building. His first impression is that he is sensing something necromantic. He heads back to the corridor alone later with the Invisibility Cloak to investigate.
He finds a tapestry hiding the source of the strange magic he felt, but upon closer inspection it is not quite necromancy — Harry considers that it might be something adjacent.
Headmistress Vulchanova appears, unable to spot Harry under the Cloak, but knowing someone was present. She comments on the power of the Cloak.
Harry decides to reveal himself, and Headmistress Vulchanova seems to come to some sort of realisation when he appears.
She informs him that she can show him what is behind the tapestry, but only once. Harry agrees, and the headmistress gives the command for the tapestry to be raised. Carved into the wall behind the tapestry, is the same symbol Harry saw engraved on Ignotus Peverell’s grave.
The headmistress tells Harry that Grindelwald carved the symbol on the wall when he was a student. She shares her suspicion with Harry though that Harry does not know the symbol in connection to Grindelwald.
Harry confirms he has seen it before on a grave, and the headmistress states in return her guess that this grave long predates Grindelwald. When Harry does not respond, she proposes an exchange; she will tell Harry the true meaning of the symbol, and in return, he must answer one question truthfully.
Harry weighs up the pros and cons, before deciding it is too risky. Headmistress Vulchanova is pleased — Harry has passed some sort of test in his response.
Although she will not tell him the truth about the symbol, she does give him a clue; she asks him if he has ever read The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
With the clue provided, Harry heads to the library to check out the book. Later that night he asks Tom if he knows anything about the symbol, but Tom does not know anything other than it is Grindelwald’s symbol.
Harry meets Ezra early that weekend for a meditation session in the sacred grove. He learns as he meditates in the grove that not only can be feel the magic in this space — he can actually see it.
He is able to perceive his own magical core visually for the first time, noticing it has a dark centre but a golden edge around it. His magical awareness appears like threads of gold to him.
Harry notices strange black threads coming from his magical core and stretching out into the world far beyond what he can see. He does not understand their nature, and it unsettles him.
Harry catches up on letters from his friends, and they tell him Umbridge is as bad as they suspected she would be. The new DADA professor is Gilderoy Lockhart, who is useless.
Later that day when Harry is with his friends, he notices the strange ritual magic coming from one of the trees he is sitting under. He admits to Liam that he has been getting the impression of being watched around certain trees. Liam does not think Harry is crazy; the trees are very old, and it is unclear how sentient any of them have been from being surrounded by so much magical activity over the years.
Liam asks Harry about Ezra’s study, and Harry confirms he participated. Liam does not ask Harry directly if he was Subject A, but he does ask if Harry has any suspicions of who it might be, or if he knew anyone else in the study.
Harry is able to answer Liam without revealing anything.
The group watch the Saturday afternoon Quidditch try outs, and see Karl play. Harry spots the captain of the Ravens, Ylva Thorvald, and thinks she might have some goblin ancestry based on her stature.
Harry reads The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and when he reaches the final story, The Tale of the Three Brothers, he is struck by the possible connection between the story and his ancestor, Ignotus Peverell.
Harry theorises that Ignotus is the youngest brother in the story, and the cloak that is mentioned is the Invisibility Cloak that has been passed down through Harry’s family for generations.
He is also unsettled to remember the words on his parents’ grave - and old family saying, Sirius had claimed. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death. Harry fears his bloodline might be marked in some way by death.
He contacts Sirius to share his thoughts, and Sirius is doubtful of there being a connection, but does recall The Tale of the Three Brothers was James’ favourite as a kid. Sirius concedes there are a lot of coincidences. He offers to check the Potter vault to see if there is a copy of the book there.
That night, Harry dreams of a cloaked figure standing at the end of a bridge. He does not recall the dream when he wakes in the morning.
Harry performs well in his Quidditch try out, and he is supported by his friends and Ezra in the stands.
After the try out, he meets with Ezra to meditate in the sacred grove again. There are other students meditating at that time of day, and Harry examines their magical cores. He discovers a fellow student with a dark magical core, which looks different to his own; there is no golden halo around the other dark magical core.
As Harry attempts to examine the dark threads coming from his magical core, he becomes aware that they carry a distinct similarity to the magic he had sensed from the symbol carved by Grindelwald on the school wall.
He and Ezra debrief afterwards, and Harry also tells him about the ritual magical he has sensed from some of the trees around the school. Ezra is unsure of the cause, and although they consider a few theories together, it remains a mystery.
It does lead to Harry thinking about the people his magic reacts to though, and he shares with Ezra what he has been sensing. Ezra theorises they are perhaps like Harry, capable of wandless spellcraft.
Harry does not think this is the case though. When he tells Ezra the two people he has sensed the ritual magic from lately have been a sixth year Phoenix and Professor Lis, Ezra is unable to hide his reaction.
He clearly knows something, but refuses to tell Harry anything due to some sort of professional obligation.
On Monday morning, Harry receives a first round offer to play Seeker for the Ravens. Ylva Thorvald asks to meet with him at lunchtime to discuss the offer further.
In between his morning classes, Harry is stopped by Oskar Braun, the captain of the Foxes. He offers Harry the position of starting Seeker — the reason there was no formal first round offer is because he technically offered it to Krum, who refused. But Harry is Oskar’s next pick. Harry agrees to consider the offer.
At lunch he meets with Ylva. He realises two things quickly as he shakes hands with her — she did not give him the same impression as Taras and Professor Lis. His magic took notice of her, even more so up close, but he did not get a strong sense of ritual magic from her.
The second thing he notices is that an examination of her magical core reveals a phenomenon he has observed in only two other people; Fleur and Dion. It was like there were two different types of magic in her.
Harry recognised the second type of magic in Ylva — it was what he felt being around goblins.
He speculates that this must mean Fleur and Dion had non-human heritage too.
Ylva discusses the team and training schedule with Harry, and then admits she was keen to talk with Harry for a reason other than discussing the Quidditch offer. She confirms she is half-goblin, and her mother is the goblin ambassador to the Danish wizarding government.
Ylva informs Harry he is quite the talk in the goblin diplomatic circles.
After their chat, Harry decides to accept the offer to play for the Ravens.
Later in the day, he is approached by Zsófia Vereb, the captain of the Bears. She knows her offer is not as good as Oskar’s and Ylva’s, but she offers him the reserve Seeker position for the Bears, with the goal of him being appointed starting Seeker in the following year.
Harry turns down her offer, and Oskar’s too later that afternoon. Both are disappointed but not entirely surprised.
Harry shares the good news with Sirius and Arcturus over the mirror that evening. When Harry tells them about Ylva, Arcturus points out her mother might well be involved with the negotiations between the goblin nation and the Danish research team developing the advanced Heritage Test.
They discuss the magical impressions Harry has been getting from Taras, Professor Lis, and now Ylva. Harry notes that Ylva feels different to Taras and Professor Lis, but does remind him of a couple of people he encountered at the DAYS gathering.
He confirms Ezra knows something, but cannot share it with Harry due to some professional expectation. Hearing that Arcturus states that they cannot rule of the possibility that Professor Lis and Taras might also have non-human heritage. This is because he can only imagine that if a teacher, for example, had some sort of creature heritage, that they would be required to inform the faculty about it.
Sirius confirms that he found a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard in the Potter vault at Gringotts. He nearly missed it, because it is written in ancient runes. It may well be a first edition, and Sirius suggests they hire an expert to look at it.
Meanwhile, Tom has had much to think about over the past few days.
It is revealed that although he did attack Harry that night in a panic of being put back in the magical container, that something impossible happened. Harry’s magic, seemingly seeing no difference between Harry and Tom, obeyed Tom, and put Harry to sleep to buy him time to work out a plan.
Tom found himself dragged involuntarily into Harry’s magical core.
Tom had wished strongly Harry wanted to return to Hogwarts, that he did not want to study Mind Arts, and that he did not want to put the diary back into the magical container. He felt like none of this would have happened if Harry had been at Hogwarts.
Without conscious action, his scattered thoughts and wishes had life breathed into them by Harry’s powerful magic. There was no difference between a thought and a spell in the heart of Harry’s magical core.
He obliviated Harry of the memory of Tom attacking, and with that done, he tried to work out how to extricate himself from Harry’s magical core. Tom was also curious and concerned why Harry’s magic responded to him as though he was Harry.
He was pulled in deeper, nearly losing his own sense of self in the process, and ended up in a space beyond Harry’s magical core.
There, Tom saw a piece of his own soul, woven into Harry’s being.
He realised with dawning horror that Harry was a Horcrux; his other self has inadvertently made him one that night in Godric’s Hollow.
Harry magic attempted to consume Tom then, trying to reunify him. Tom truly struggled in earnest then, and Harry’s magic reluctantly let him go.
The following day when Harry reported the migraine and his experiences from that day, Tom feared he had accidentally caused damage to Harry’s mind, and put him under again to survey what was happening.
He found three Compulsion Charms in Harry’s head, and was initially furious believing someone had attacked Harry. Then he worked out what the compulsions actually were and he was confused and wary; a compulsion to want to avoid the Mind Arts, a compulsion to want to return to Hogwarts, and a compulsion to leave the diary out of the magical suppression container.
These were all things Tom had desired but not actually acted on. The compulsions were crafted with Harry’s own magic, but touched by Tom’s guidance. Yet, he had not guided this magic.
Tom carefully released the compulsions, obliviated Harry once more, and then got out of his head. He resolved to avoid entering Harry’s mind or magical core again, to avoid something like this happening once more.
Harry has his first lesson with Professor Abioye the following week, and Viktor Krum is taking the same beginner’s course as him.
He also has his first Quidditch training session, and although he is excited to meet his teammates, he finds a chilly reception waiting for him from the reserves.
The reserve Seeker, Dominik Iločki, expresses a clear dislike of Harry. Karl intervenes when he arrives, and Harry learns from him and the other boy on the starting team, Luis Pichler, that Dominik has been the reserve for a year, and was expecting to get the starting position this year.
Harry speaks with Tom about the Parselmouth ability one night after school, and questions if the ability is truly limited to just speaking the language of snakes, and controlling them.
Tom is vague in his response, reminding Harry that there are certain things he cannot tell him, but that he can guide him to the answers. Tom also reminded Harry that to truly understand Slytherin’s legacy he needs to return to Hogwarts.
Later that week, Harry is in the library with Astrid, looking for books on blood magic that he could not find in Britain. He also goes searching for some books on magical creatures, hoping to research about the topic a bit more and see if he can work out what heritages Fleur and Dion might have, if his theory is correct about them.
Astrid has an interesting reaction to the books he has picked out, and she shares with him that although not as problematic as other books on the topic, they are not ideal. She encourages him to still read them to form his own opinion, but offers to write home to her parents to send over a book Harry won’t be able to find in the Durmstrang library.
It is written by a woman with mer heritage, whereas all the books in the library are written by witches and wizards with entirely human heritage.
Harry also learns the term ‘magical creature’ when applied to communities like centaurs, merpeople etc. is considered derogatory by some. He resolves to avoid using it in the future.
Harry receives a letter from Draco that weekend confirming he has been appointed the new Seeker for Slytherin. He also learns Lockhart was given a formal warning by the Board of Governors, but his classes are still mostly useless.
Harry meets up with Kasia for a duelling session. He manages to beat her, having taken to heart the advice and lessons he learnt from the DAYS gathering. Although he loses the next two duels, Kasia offers to meet up fortnightly to train together, and Harry happily agrees.
Meanwhile back in Britain, the Wizengamot meet to discuss the House Committee report on the public’s views of the proposed new bill to promote and improve werewolf rights.
In a week they will all be voting on the bill, but the purpose of this meeting is for the drafters of the bill, Gareth Greengrass, Amelia Bones, and Levi Selwyn-Burke, to address the concerns raised in the report.
Gareth promises they will be amending the bill, making concessions in the light of the public’s clear concerns. Amelia addresses the Wizengamot further on their proposal for a thirty day grace period, allowing individuals and families to register with the Ministry without facing criminal consequences for failing to previously register as a werewolf.
They are able to soften the mood in the room, and open up the floor to reasonable discussions around the bill.
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@honorhearted
five days hence the awful night of terror finds the small company nearly rejoined with the larger. washington's detour to meet with the order with a limited routine had resulted with a three day's parting between the two and the survivors of the encampment had required at least a day's worth of respite. the storms and wounded had also provided delay as a march had been commenced. most soldiers remain uncertain about the circumstances of the cursed night, the human mind always seeking out logic to make sense of horrific truth. a surprise attack. the storm distorted what they'd seen. all rational which remains uncorrected. they, aside from tallmadge as the general's other council were not present, do not know washington's reasoning for detouring their path, are not to question it and are fancy to the idea the attack has forced their hand to regroup rather than continue with whatever plans their general held previous. what is noticed, even discussed within hushed tones is the strange group which has joined them.
the pastor easily mingles, prays with men among the trees on the sabbath as they lack any formal house of worship in the field. but the girl, seemingly privy to council's with washington remains upon the fringes of camp. distanced from the men whose gazes linger long enough to unsettle. when she is seen about tallmadge's orphan boy seems to mirror her, finding all manner of questions to present her with and the woman always halts her actions and humors him when she can. he hasn't told anyone about her powers and she wonders if the boy, upon reflection, refrained because he suspected that no one would believe him or was aware enough to fear that someone would. clearly, he was not fearful of her, of this she was thankful. the day prior she had approached the boy herself when she'd witnessed a soldier shove him harshly, kasia having the boy fetch the book he'd been regaling her about so that she might read it to him. and if the soldier had seemed to lose his footing and fall face first into horseshit sometime later it certainly wasn't her doing. except that it very much was.
she's with the boy again now-- a day's journey toward washington's larger encampment suspected-- in the woods a distance from the soldiers and auggie excitedly asking her some query while tallmadge seems to remain upon the fringes. she's sensed him the whole time watching them, though kasia is unsure if he realizes she's aware of him. she has half a mind to call out some comment to tallmadge before she's stopped in her tracks by something a few meters in front of her, arm reaching out to tug auggie to sudden halt. "auggie, i need you to stay right here. do not move, do you understand?" her tone has an edge to it, one which grows more tense when she repeats herself. "auggie, do you understand?" when she finally gets a nod from the boy who seems alarmed by her tone though not unwilling to listen, kasia's face turns in the direction she knows tallmidge is in. looks directly at him. "you need to come here but be careful where you step." she pauses as a wind seems to sweep through the woods, leaves kicking up and strange wooden bundles and white rocks appearing in five distinct areas. "don't step near those alters."
"i'm going to go over there with mr. tallmadge, auggie. just stay here." she instructs, moving away from the boy once she's sure he will listen and meeting the man in the center of where the alters seem to perimeter. there's dead birds at the foot of trees, now visible from their point of view and a dead baby goat laid out by what seems to be some kind of makeshift map of the area made with rocks and burned paper that seems to have blood drops on it. though burned, it's distinct enough to recognize that it's a map of the land and that markers were placed where the larger encampment was and where the attack happened.
"don't touch anything. this is--- dark magic." there's something in the way she bites out her words, with an ice that speaks to her disgust as she kneels down and observes. "this place has been touched by the devil." someone had committed a dark ritual to devine the camp's location and she suspects to send those enthralled vampires toward them days prior. someone that was in close proximity to where they were headed to meet washington's forces, all implications of which were concerning.
"i can't be certain they are not still close or alerted to us finding this already." there's a growing unease in her speech, in her whole demeanor which is foreign to the confidence she's presented herself with these last days and she realizes, as she looks in auggie's direction and back toward the morbid display on the ground that she's feeling some level of fear. there's too many variables at play and they are so wholly exposed. she does not like this. she doesn't like it one bit.
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Elisa Longo Borghini wins de Ronde van Vlaanderen (Tour of Flanders), despite a crash earlier in the race. #ELB
We're going to talk about this race later this week, how SD Worx looked weaker, how Kasia Niewiadoma was so strong but just missed out again, and how Shirin van Androoij is an absolute weapon for Lidl-Trek. But for now, can we all just acknowledge that the women's race was way more fun to watch than the men's race? (Sorry, MVDP, but dominance isn't always fun to watch.)
#womensworldtour#wwt#bikegirls#lidl-trek#shirin van androoij#elisa longo borghini#Kasia Niewiadoma#Tour of Flanders#ronde van vlaanderen
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World on Fire, s2e6:
Well, that certainly took my mind off of things. This episode made up for a lot, actually.
Robina is a real piece of work, but I still think that we don't give her enough credit for her honesty and, at least in some instances, her clear-sightedness.
That's one hell of a marriage proposal, though! I hope James keeps after her.
There are absolutely no secrets in Robina's house, are there? It makes me wonder how common it was for family members of people doing classified war work to know something of what was going on.
As for Kasia — all I can say is Oh, Shit. And a thought occurred to me: she and her husband have been together and sleeping in the same bed for a few weeks. What happens if she's pregnant?
By the way, in 1941 Kasia would be joining the Polish Home Army (Armia Krajowa) rather than the Special Operations Executive, which wasn't in Poland until the following year.
And Harry is still day drinking, I see. Not good.
Marga's parents really have no idea what's going on, do they?
I don't know what to say about Henriette's story line at this point. This was inevitable, I guess. Albert is probably facing a similar fate.
As for David — finally!! Some signs of Jewish life!!!! The gesture he performs after lighting the candles has to do with the fact that normally, when performing an act that requires a blessing, one says the blessing first and then performs the act; in this case though, since the blessing over the Shabbat candles is the act which ushers in Shabbat, one has to light the candles first, because of the traditional restriction against kindling a flame on Shabbat. So you close your eyes after lighting the candles, say the blessing, and then open your eyes and see the lit candles.
As for waving one's hands around the candles like that: it ushers in the Sabbath Bride as the light of Shabbat fills the room and surrounds the those in it; it symbolizes the culmination of the six days of creation into the seventh day of rest; it draws the warmth and light inside oneself. If I'm not explaining this well, it's because I didn't see much of it growing up, and almost never see it in the circles in which I now travel. (Also, I've long been deeply uncomfortable with the bridal symbolism, which to my mind really fails to jibe with gender parity and the avoidance of pronouns when referring to God, but that's an entirely different post.) In any case, none of what I've described in this and the preceding paragraph is universal.
So — what will happen in s3 (let's hope)? Any predictions?
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( MOZHAN MARNÒ, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER. ) could that really be CYRA TULLY, the RULING LADY of RIVERRUN entering the keep ? king’s landing is sure to benefit from the FORTY ONE year old’s ability to be both NURTURING and COURAGEOUS, but beware, whispers also say they have been known to be SELFISH and BLUNT. their loyalty belongs to HOUSE TULLY and they SUPPORT the notion of peace throughout westeros. / ELLE, SHE/HER, 25, EST.
0 0 1.
full name: cyra ( sigh-ra ) tully.
nickname: cy.
official title: ruling lady of riverrun, lady paramount of the trident.
age: forty one.
gender + pronouns: cis woman + she/her.
orientation: lesbian.
allegiance: house tully.
spoken language: common tongue.
religion: the faith of the seven.
0 0 2.
faceclaim: mozhan marnò.
eye color: brown.
hair color: brown.
dominant hand: left.
height: 5′10″.
build: slim.
0 0 3.
father: ruling lord grover tully, deceased at 50.
mother: ruling lady shera tully nee tbd, deceased at 29.
siblings: none.
relationship status: happily married to the ruling lady tully nee arryn.
children: sabine massey nee tully, kasia tully, & tbd.
0 0 4.
weapon of choice: her words but she's also secretly good with a sword.
moral alignment: chaotic good.
inspired by: catelyn stark / brienne of tarth, rosa vasquez ( shazam ), eowyn ( lotr ), bail organa ( star wars ).
common tropes: i am not my father, mama bear, the power of family.
0 0 5.
cyra was the only child born to the ruling lord and lady of riverrun. her father was very obviously upset over the birth of a daughter, especially when they'd been trying for years and their victory came in the form of a curly haired lady. she grew up constantly trying to prove her father wrong, except in ways she found represented her - so when he would arrive home with a suitor, it was common for her to roll her eyes and question if they could best her in battle, she would be theirs. the situation ever only went two ways, the first in which they would call her mad and be on their way... the second would take her up on the challenge. there was only ever once she was beaten in combat but simply replied, " you have earned my respect, my lord, but my heart is not easily won. " ( would loooove a plot for this like suitor turned bestie who she respects a lot hello ?? )
she was a spitting image of her mother, more so in her attitude and free spirit than the curls that often appeared red in the sun. those curls, those beautiful curls that she came to be known for were from her father and it created a resentment in her that he was never able to compliment them like her mother often would. losing her mother so young was one of the hardest things cyra had to go through, especially with her father's distance. she did not care what other lords or ladies thought of her but her father's constant disapproval caused whatever motivation she had to be his perfect daughter out the window. it didn't help that everything she defied him in was something that made her genuinely happier - not worrying about being his heir, who she would marry or what would be of her because she would make it so.
from that moment on, she was adamant about living the life she chose. she did not care for status or power but warmth in her bed and love in her heart. cyra began to spend time devoting to the only orphanage in the riverlands and would spend coin to give them better resources, much to her father's dislike. when the aldrich family was lost to a fire and their daughter left an orphan, cyra didn't hesitate to offer the lady kasia an opportunity to join house tully. she wanted to give her wealth to those who needed it most and give love to those who had lost their own. not a replacement, gods no, but a safe home with someone who cares for them. cyra never expected to one day be called mother, but it was certainly one of the best days of her life. she did the same when she found sabine and gave the same offer to them as well as every other child welcomed into the tully home, coming to adore all her children with her entire heart.
the baratheon rebellion complicated things. her father would display her like a prize to be won and she had never felt so angry. angry that his desperation was so obvious and that she was who had to suffer for the betterment of their house. if their house relied on her misery, then it would die with her and never be carried on ever again. maybe that's what her father deserved. despite her own anger, cyra had a future to focus on with her children and wanted to do whatever could be best for them. however, this entire time she had fought so hard against betrothals for multiple reasons but the strongest was she herself was in love. there would be no match for her other than the lady arryn and she wouldn't hear anything else.
the greatest surprise yet was her father's approval. cyra gives credit to her wife for the moment, thinking it was due to marrying a house in equal standing ( even more so with their baratheon alliance ). she had waited her entire life to receive his approval and had felt proud of him for the first time ever when he decided to fight with their forces. cyra remembers the night she waited in their hall, staring at the door and feeling the sadness wash over her when one of their advisors broke the news of his death. they had always had a complicated relationship but cyra mourned him greatly.
in the years after, cyra has made it a priority to give her family the opportunities she was never given. " family, honor, duty... those are house tully's words. never forget what word comes first. " she would often tell her children as they grew, always honoring where they came from while teaching them about their house and the values she had. they could either call her cyra or another term of endearment if mother was too strong - and yet, they all warmed to the word in time. she never stopped donating to the orphanage and does her best to keep a mind of what's happening in the riverlands. cyra is incredibly prideful of her home, her family, and how far she's come.
cyra is an extrovert at heart but rarely has the desire to converse with strangers... or most lords, honestly. she often finds herself bored with court discussions and things of the southern region, having a big distaste for house baratheon but she tries to be polite. is a huge momma bear even if you're not her children and is an incredibly safe space for talking shit about the king ! she thinks most traditions are stupid and is kind of judgmental about a lot ... also if you are mean to people in front of her, she'll remember and she'll make sure you know she remembers.
0 0 6.
wanted connections.
suitors / failed betrothals from her youth. preferably 40+ but could be a bit younger, she just would have been a little meaner about it !
alliance besties. cyra is not a schemer by any means, but westeros is annoying in some of its traditions and laws so these would be people who are like minded in that sense or essentially people who just think the king kinda sucks !
enemies. could be people who offered suitors for her kids and she was like nah, maybe someone she made fun of for something idk she does that a lot, or someone she won a bet over ? idk you tell me !
an old sparring partner. cyra is secretly an incredible swordsmen and used to train frequently as a young girl, so i imagine this is someone she bragged about being able to beat in a duel and either did so or got close ! she hasn't trained in years and it would be cool if they hadn't seen each other in a while and the first time they meet again they're like " wanna duel ?? 👀 "
honestly anything ! there's little i'm not open to and you never know what will happen until you ask !!
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Tie your heart to mine
Chapter 18
It was easier to think of the other girl as a faceless entity who was Jan's sister.
It is difficult to know Kasia is beautiful and sweet and undeserving of the hell she’s suffering through.
Kasia Tomazeski has lost both her parents and fights for freedom in Nazi occupied Poland...
...and Lois slept with her husband.
Lois feels disgusted with herself because Harry tried to explain things to her, to break things off for good and Lois had to tell him she loved him.
Even worse, she gave him her virginity because he said he still loved her. Because everything was going to change and she wanted one thing in her life to be as it as before.
She doesn’t tell Tom any of that. She couldn’t take his disappointment in her when he discovers how stupid she was.
Why couldn’t you be more like Tom? She hears Connie’s voice say in her head.
Tom was irresponsible in almost everything except his sex life. Left when he started noticing the signs his girl had the wrong idea about him, made sure he always had sheaths to spare so there was no consequences and never went after those spoken for.
Dad would be so disappointed in her for this.
He encouraged freedom as long as it was within his lines. Bad enough she’d joined ENSA and already packed her bags, now this.
“I’m sorry, Loo.” Tom said softly and kissed the top of her head like he always does when her romances fail spectacularly.
“Do they know what’s in here?” she asks burning from the humiliation of it.
She doesn’t like pity, no one does.
Diane could understand, but Charlie? Charlie who has been nothing short of Prince Charming for her and she decided to ruin it all because she thought Harry was the One?
“They say its bad manners to look at someone’s else’s files without permission.” He answered with a bit of a scoff. Neither of them has been able to get used to how normal things like getting government files on someone was for them.
How different they were and yet Lois has never seen Tom so serious and in love as hew was with Diane.
“I suppose that’s a good thing.” Lois dried her tears and slammed the door on her past with Harry. “Won’t have them look at me with pity tonight.”
There was no way she was going to stop living for Harry, no way she was going to spend any more seconds of her life thinking about him.
Fuck him. Fuck Harry and his fucking lies.
Tom hasn’t spoken much to his father since he came that morning.
It had been a week almost, he’s leaving for Cornwall on Monday and even though he knows this is isn’t the end, it feels like it.
As if the Tom that leaves isn’t the one coming back. He knows what shellshock does to man, he knows how it is to have your dad have it and know you can’t be a normal kid or a normal teenager or even a normal adult because of it.
And yet he says this when he and his dad sit alone waiting for Lois to come home. She’d gone to get adjustments made on her ENSA uniform with Connie and Diane and putting up a damn good fight against her heartbreak by letting Charlie Shelby treat her to lunch.
“I’m gonna marry her, dad.” So you have someone taking care of you when we’re gone. So I can die knowing I existed beyond a fucking number and a grave.
Tom doesn’t need to say it, his dad did the same in the Great War. Told Josie Vera Jones he’d marry her when he left for training and made her Josie Bennett in 1916 because she was two months pregnant with him.
“I said the same to your grandfather when I signed up in ’14.” His father stopped smoking when mum got sick, when the smoke made her cough until she spat blood and yet he takes one out of his pack and gave into the old habit.
Only did so when he was terrified to death.
Like when Lois started going out with boys or got her first gigs and they feared some bastard would take advantage of her. Several times they’d ended up here smoking on the table after Tom thrashed a man getting handsy with his little sister.
Or when he taught Tom how to drive on a borrowed car and he crashed it because he saw a pretty girl walking by the street.
Tom couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, him and his dad sitting on the table wondering how the fuck they’d pay for it. Sitting here being closer than they’ve ever felt even if his father is angry and terrified underneath the veneer.
“And what did grandad say?” Tom asks taking a drag from his cigarette in an odd imitation of the man in front of him. It had been he who taught him to smoke, when he’d caught him with a fag on his mouth wanting something to calm him down after the first time he’d been sent to jail.
“You need a ring for that.” His dad answered and stood up with a groan and proceeded to dig up mom’s things that he kept in his room.
Lois had all her things, the clothes she could refit to match the fashion and her size, the jewellery she treasured and even the perfume.
But there was one thing she hadn’t gotten: her wedding ring.
‘That’s for the lucky girl you’re going to marry, Tommy,’ she had said and told them how granddad gave dad the ring grandma used to wear as his blessing.
Back then Douglas was brash and carefree and happy, just like Tom was, or so what’s left of their family and friends love to point out.
War made a man out of him, the men like to say.
Your mother made a good man out of me, his dad says when they visit her grave.
“I don’t even know if she’ll say yes, dad. Save the ring for later.” Later when I can prove to myself I can.
“It’s like I’m hearing myself talk. Next thing you’ll say is that you’re moving out once you have enough for a house.” His father laughed nostalgically, like he did when telling them stories from his youth.
“I suppose we’re more alike than we think, aren’t we?” Tom can’t help but grin as he opened the ring case and saw the simple gold band carved with orange blossoms.
He has never been this serious in his life, as if knowing it could end any moment had changed something in him.
“Yeah, we are.”
He is not stupid.
He knows she doesn’t mean it when she flirts and touches him as they walk alone in the park.
Even worse, Charlie knows she doesn’t mean it when she kisses him because it would hurt Harry who came here with his little brother-in-law.
It’s not the first time Charles Absalom Shelby has felt used, and it won’t be the last.
“I shouldn’t have done that.” She apologizes after he doesn’t reciprocate the kiss.
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have.” He could’ve kissed her back, given into his attraction to her, but Charlie wants a woman who is with him for the right reasons and not because she’s hurt. “I’m not a toy, Lois.”
“I know.” Lois said looking ahead in embarrassment.
“But if you wanted me to help you hurt him, you could just ask, as a friend would.” He makes it all worse.
“As a friend?” she asks noticing the change with displeasure.
“As a friend.” He nods. Charlie had pursued her and given up, now she was disappointed in not having him after wasting her time on Chase.
He’d treated her for lunch as a friend would. If she wants him, she’d have to do the chasing and the wooing from now on.
“And what things could I ask of you, Charlie?” she asks turning on her charm all the way.
It shouldn’t be surprising that they end up in his hotel room and thanking his lucky stars he came prepared for this.
#diane shelby#charlie shelby#tie your heart to mine#tom bennett x oc#tom bennett world on fire#lois bennett world on fire#lois bennett x oc#ewan mitchell#ewanverse#tom bennett x diane shelby#peaky blinders au#world on fire fic
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