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five-rivers · 2 years

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Ancestral

Danny had been having a rare peaceful, lazy Sunday afternoon when the call came in, relaxing on the couch with the astrophotography book Jazz had gotten him for Christmas. It was early January, and the ghosts hadn’t come back yet, and the teachers hadn’t assigned too much stuff right after the break, so he was caught up.

It was unusual. It was nice.

He should have been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The phone rang. He ignored it. Anyone calling him would call his cell phone, and his parents were right there, in the kitchen.

He listened with half an ear as someone - his mother, by the sound of it, although it might have been Jazz - pushed back a chair and walked over to the wall the phone hung on.

“Hello, this is Maddie Fenton speaking.”

He’d been right. He smiled a little and turned the page. Those were some nice nebulas.

“Matthew? I wasn’t expecting– What? No. No, that can’t–” She fell silent for a long minute, quiet except for exclamations of shock. “Do you know how–? I understand. I understand. Of course we’ll be coming. I might not agree with- with– Oh, god.”

There was a sort of heavy sound, and Danny got up, leaving his book on the couch. His mother was sitting against the wall, under the phone receiver. Jack and Jazz had both gotten out of their seats, their projects abandoned on the table.

“Okay,” said Maddie. “Okay. I understand. We’ll be ready to go when they get here. Okay. Call me if anything… Alright. Matthew– I’m sorry. I wish–” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. We’ll be there.” She dropped the phone and let it hang from its cord, the ‘no signal’ noise coming on a minute later.

“Mom?” asked Danny. “What happened?”

She looked up. “Your, um.” She rubbed at her eyes. “That was my cousin, Matthew. Grandpa Alfred and Grandma Rose…”

Those were her grandparents, Danny’s great-grandparents. Maddie’s parents had died before Danny was born.

“What happened?” prodded Danny, well aware it couldn’t be anything good.

“They died,” said Maddie, softly. “A earlier– Last night– Hours ago. And so did– So did your Great Uncle Theodore and your Great Aunt Isabella. And, um, my cousins William and Martin.”

“Oh my god,” said Jazz. “What happened? Were they all on a plane together, or…?”

“No,” said Maddie. “They don’t know what happened. Aunt Cathrine and Uncle John aren’t doing well, and apparently Vivian is missing.”

Of course Aunt Cathrine and Uncle John weren’t doing well. Their spouses had just died. Danny wasn’t doing all too well himself, and he couldn’t say he’d been close to any of them. They were still family.

“What about the others? Lewis and Leo? Or Iris and George? Or Joanna and Eugene?”

“I don’t know,” said Maddie, pushing her hair back from her face. “Matthew didn’t mention them. I’m sure if something happened to his kids he would have said something.”

“We’re going, aren’t we, Mads?”

“Yeah,” said Maddie. “Um.” She scrubbed her sleeve across her face. “Kids, go get packed. Jack, we need Spector Deflectors for all of us.”

“You think it was ghosts?” asked Jack.

“Six of my family members just dropped dead with no cause of death,” said Maddie, voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. “Grandma and Grandpa were ninety-eight, but Martin was our age. And all at once? It’s just like with my parents…” She shuddered, then started the process of pulling herself up off the floor. Jack gave her a hand up. “There’s a ghost involved.” She shook her head. “I warned them.”

She and Jack went to the lab door. When they got there, she turned back. “You need to go, showers and pack now. I don’t know how long it will be before they’ll pick us up.”

“A flight to Chicago from London usually takes eight or so hours,” said Jazz. “So at least that, unless they sent someone to pick us up before calling.”

“I don’t know,” said Maddie. “It sounded like– I don’t know.”

“Alright,” said Jack. “I’ll take care of things in the lab, you get our things together for the trip.”

“Jack, you can’t do it all by yourself.”

“I’m just getting the deflectors and making sure everything is off. You’re doing the packing.”

Danny knelt on the floor, debating. The last time they’d visited that part of the family had been before his accident. There were a lot of things he wanted to bring, but what he could bring was a different story. The fact was, he had no idea what the plane would allow, much less security and customs, and some of his stuff was incredibly suspicious.

Vials of green, glowing, liquid, anyone?

Meditatively, he rubbed his hands over the spot in the floor he’d phased his special first-aid kit into. There was definitely going to be trouble. It would absolutely be useful to have a way to patch himself up. If anyone saw some of the more… unusual items, there would be questions he couldn’t answer.

Maybe he could just take the less suspicious parts? Nothing with visible ectoplasm in it.

He phased the kit out from the floor and continued packing. The funeral would undoubtedly be a formal event, but he knew he’d be doing some snooping, so he wanted to bring something he could move in…

The enormity of what had happened hit him again, and he swayed. So much of his family… It didn’t matter that they weren’t close. Both his heart and his core cried in grief and out for justice. Maybe it would turn out that it had been some kind of freak accident in the end.

But if it wasn’t, whoever was responsible would be very sorry indeed.

As Danny forced the last of his gear into his suitcase - using only a little phasing to get it done - he heard a car pull up in front of Fentonworks. Then another. Then another.

He looked out the window. Down below were three huge dark gray cars, each one built squat and stout. If he didn’t miss his guess, the tinted windows were probably bulletproof and the interiors armored.

They were exactly the kind of vehicle Sam would hate and Tucker would love.

Oh, crud. Sam and Tucker.

He grabbed his phone, belatedly remembering to throw the charger into his bag, and dialed Sam.

“This is a bit early for you, isn’t it?” said Sam, by way of greeting. “Did the ghosts finally come back?”

“Um,” said Danny, “no.” He wasn’t sure how to say this. “My great-grandparents just died, and, um, my great-aunt and uncle. And some of my cousins.”

“Oh my gosh, Danny, are you alright?”

“Not really,” said Danny. “I’m still… processing.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, Mom didn’t say. We’re leaving right now, and I don’t know how long we’ll be out of town–”

“Danny! Jazz! They’re here!” called Maddie from downstairs.

“I’ve got to go,” said Danny. “Just keep an eye on things? Please?”

“Of course,” said Sam. “Call me when you can?”

“Yeah. Could you call Tucker, I called you because I knew you’d be awake, but–”

“Danny!”

“I really have to go, thanks, bye!”

He snapped the phone closed and hefted his suitcase over his shoulder. No more time. He had to hope things wouldn’t collapse too badly while he was gone. He had been out of town before.

But he didn’t know how long this would be.

He reached the ground floor at the same time his dad came up from the basement, a small amount of ectoplasm splattered on his jumpsuit.

“Are you okay?” asked Danny.

Jack made a face, but then forced a smile. “Sure thing, Danny-boy! Just shutting down the portal while we’re away.” His smile twitched. “It’ll… probably be fine while we’re gone. Shouldn’t be too many more natural portals in town, as long as we don’t leave it off for too long.”

“Right,” said Danny, offering up a very similar smile.

“Maybe I can ask Vladdie to look after the portal while we’re gone?”

“You’ll have to call him later,” said Danny, hoping Jack would forget.

They emerged into the entryway, where there were several large men wearing suits. Danny could see, very faintly, the outline of real guns under their jackets. One of them was more familiar than expected.

“Mr. Kynbaz,” said Danny. Even knowing Matthew was sending someone, he didn’t think it would be Mr. Kynbaz.

“Hello there, Master Daniel, Dr. Fenton,” said Mr. Kynbaz, with a soft but rather strained smile.

“I didn’t think you ever left the country,” said Danny, before he could think better of it.

Mr. Kynbaz’s expression twisted in pain. “We were a only a couple hours north, in Canada.”

“Oh, for Johanna and Eugene?” asked Maddie. “I’d forgotten they were visiting his father there this year…”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Mr. Kynbaz. “They left for home on their own plane; we have a charter for you at the airport.”

“Alright,” said Maddie. “I don’t suppose you have any other news?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am.”

“Alright,” said Maddie. “Alright. So, we just… go.”

Mr. Kynbaz nodded. “If you would let Mr. Rigyn and Miss Blys take your bags, we’ll get you into the cars.”

Maddie nodded and stepped forward.

“One at a time,” said Mr. Kynbaz. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but with as little as we know, I don’t want your whole family to be out in the open at once.”

Danny felt himself go pale. That wasn’t something he’d even considered.

There was a brief discussion about bringing the GAV instead - it was armored - but in the end they left the house and got into the car one by one.

Mr. Kynbaz entered last, settling into his seat with a sigh. He pushed a button on his earpiece and said, “Princess Madeline and family are secured. Move out.”

#danny phantom #royalty au #ectoberhaunt22 #ectoberhaunt day 12: cause of death #day 12 #ectoberhaunt 2022 #there will be more #ancestral fic

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yxxxxxx1 · 1 month

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Thread about Joanna of Castile: Part 8.2: “A Mother's Distress: Juana's Turbulent Departure from the Castle”

Guessing that her mother was trying every trick she could think of to keep her, Juana abandoned pleading and talking. Instead, she staged an astonishing display of histrionic, even hysterical, behaviour, indulging in tactics she would employ for the rest of her life whenever she was thwarted or powerless. She refused to eat, to talk, or to sleep, she attempted to force a ship’s captain to prepare to sail.

On a cold November night, Juana fled, half-clad, from the castle.

When she realised that Isabel had ordered that the gates be shut, she

“Remained in the outer precinct of the house all evening and all night and all the next day until the second hour in the humidity and night dew and without either hat or coat, during one of the coldest nights of the year so far, and not for a moment would she return to her room.”

She even threatened the bishop with death and torture for keeping her locked up.

Martire describes her prowling the outer precincts of the castle like “an African lion.”

The international fair was in full swing, with the saddle and leather workers engaging in trade close to the castle walls. Concerned that Juana’s departure would cost her authority and reputation, Isabel sent a series of high-ranking emissaries, including Cisneros, in vain attempts to persuade her to return inside.

In the end, Isabel had to come in person:

“With more effort and haste, and making longer days of it than I knew was good for my health.”

But Juana :

“Spoke to me so heatedly and with words so disrespectful and so far, beyond what a daughter should say to a mother, that had I not seen the state she was in I would not have tolerated it for a moment.”

We do not have Juana’s account. Did she, when arguing with her mother, venture into the darker territory of Isabel’s past? Might she even have referred to Isabel’s role in the descasamiento of Afonso V of Portugal and Juana (‘la Beltraneja’) of Castile when the war of the Castilian succession of 1475–1479 ended in their defeat? The heir to the throne of Castile, Enrique IV's daughter and heir, was still confined to monastic confinement in Portugal in 1503, but she would never give up her claim to the crown.

On 2 December 1503, Lope de Conchillos wrote to his uncle, Fernando's secretary, Miguel Pérez de Almazán, that Isabel was well but “very afflicted and tired” of the princess.

In March 1504, Juana was finally allowed to leave the country. In the end, her tantrums worked. The bishop of Catania, Diego Ramirez de Guzmán, was sent with her to strengthen the Spanish diplomatic presence in Brussels. Moreover, Diego Ramirez de Villaescusa, bishop of Málaga, did not accompany her.

Juana’s journey, from beginning to end, was a reversal of the first. There were no tears when she left Laredo, but Philip eagerly awaited her at Blankenburg/Blankenberge.

While Isabel wondered if she would stay as unhappy as she was while she was here, she was the talk of the Low Countries. Juana's decision to leave Castile would have big effects on her future and the kingdoms she ruled.

Sources: Fleming, G. B. (2018). Juana I: Legitimacy and Conflict in Sixteenth-Century Castile (1st ed. 2018 edition). Palgrave Macmillan.

Fox, J. (2012). Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile. Ballantine Books.

Gómez, M. A., Juan-Navarro, S., & Zatlin, P. (2008). Juana of Castile: History and Myth of the Mad Queen. Associated University Presse.

#joanna of castile #juana i of castile #philip the handsome #juana la loca #isabel #juana the mad #juana of castile #johanna van castilie #irene escolar #spanish monarchy #spanish princess #infanta #spain #philip de schone

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notallsandmen · 6 months

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20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @reallyintoscience & @beatnikfreakiswriting — thank you darklings❤️

Okay, here we go:

1. How many works do you have on A03?

2. What's your total A03 word count?

55,019 (I take so much time writing so few words)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Sandman, WIPS for Hellblazer, The Hour, The Expanse

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Putting Out Fire With Gasoline, Nocturnal emissions, and its sequel License my roving hands (which I WILL finish so help me god), Dream nonsense (my first awkward fic) Defiling the Sublime (my Honk Zone Magnum Opus)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always! It may take me a REALLY long time, or it may be in seconds. If you ask questions, or write long comments, you will get an essay back! ❤️

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't write whump, MCD, actually unrequited love, love triangles etc. That being said, I love writing angst when I have plans for a happy ending down the road. My angstiest fic would be Disintegration, which made me so sad that I ended it by hinting at a reconciliatory eldritch incubus visitation 🥰

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The fic that makes ME happiest is Blanket Permission (which I am forever grateful to @quillingwords , for breathing the Purrito into life through her artwork)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, that’s never happened, thankfully.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Hell yes — the kinkier and more historically overcomplicated, the better. I’m particularly invested in relating the smut to history of sexuality and history in general, as well as folklore and mythology.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have two collaborative cross-overs that have been outlined but not yet written: Moulin Rouge AU with @academicblorbo , and Brideshead Revisited AU with @chaosheadspace and @quillingwords. I also have a Joanna Constantine/Death of the Endless WIP that will to some extent be a Sandman/Hellblazer crossover. Also, I really want to write a dreamling The Boat That Rocked smut fic!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. But Fern-Fevered was included in an anthology, which I will never get over

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have started two, but not yet completed them.

14. What's your all time favorite ship? Freddie Lyon / Bel Rowley from The Hour. Will never get over them

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Straight up copying @reallyintoscience ‘s response here: I exist in a state of optimism where I fully believe I will finish the few Sandman WIPs I have going.

16. What are your writing strengths? Weaponised bathos (trying to make the beautiful slip on banana peel)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing incredibly slowly, Overcomplicating/overdoing historical research. My latest WIP has a full-on bibliography…

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I love peppering in words in other languages related to the plot, as easter eggs to come back to, but I always include translations at the end. I spent an inordinate time trying to translate BDSM terminology into Old Norse for Lullaby, which was frankly such a mad endeavour that it should be mentioned as an example of my writing weaknesses…

19. First fandom you wrote for?

In my head: The Hour. Published online: The Sandman.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Putting Out Fire (With Gasoline) — made infinitely better by @mathomhouse-e ‘s stunning artwork!

Tagging some lovely writers (tagging wildly here, as usual only do it if you have spoons for it):

@imnotcrying-ipromise @im-not-corrupted @hardly-an-escape @honeyteacakes @pellaaearien @karalynlovescake @so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site @tj-dragonblade @two-hands-toward-the-sun @secondjulia @cuubism @dsudis @delta-pavonis @academicblorbo @valeriianz @gabessquishytum @aeon-of-neon @edgedancer77

#my dreamling writing #my sandman writing #ask games

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hcrexcellency · 7 months

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@jcdedsins ( joanna & dorit )

After spending an afternoon with the Schellenbergs, hiding away from the spies who had taken her sister hostage whilst their king (and queen's sister) engaged in battle in the woods, she'd thought to inspire some kind of courage and comfort in them. Scots were quite good at setting off sparks such as those. But after a few hours in the Liechtenstein apartments, the queen's incessant wailing made her take her leave with Reuben following closely behind. She did not return until after all was said and done, when she was certain the madness had, at least, simmered. The main door to the apartments was open, and so she knocked thrice upon the dark wood, no one hired to announce whomever had arrived. "There is news," she announced herself, Reuben's eldest sister being the first face she saw. Her tone was neutral and calm, "Elias returned alive, his wife is with him now. I've heard he's badly injured, but he should recover."

#muse ; 𝐉𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫t #thread ; 𝐉𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐭 #( joanna & dorit )

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systemsylvania · 4 months

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Springer Kangaroo Family

Mother - Sheila Springer

Baby - Joey Springer

Sister - Joanna Springer

Father - Bruce Springer

Bruce Springer runs the Sylvanian Cricket Club and is also the captain of the team. Depending on which team wins the toss of the coin he either opens the batting or begins the bowling. His finest hour - and it did only take an hour - was when he bowled out the entire second eleven for only twelve runs and then opened the batting for his team and hit each of the first three balls for six. What a win!

Shelia Springer is a great all round sportswoman and is especially good at netball. She is often found at the netball courts either playing her favourite position of goal defence (GD) or coaching one of the junior teams. She works hard at all her sports, encouraging her children to do the same.Winning is not everything, beating your PB (Personal Best) is! she claims.

Joanne Springer, like the rest of her family, is sports mad. Her favourite activity is running; to be precise, long distance running. She trains very hard at this, getting up at six clock every morning in order to run around the fields, having a quick shower before she dashes off to catch the school bus.

Baby Joey Springer loves to play bat and ball with his father, Bruce. He usually misses the ball with the bat, which makes both him and his daddy laugh.

#my collection #sylvanian families #calico critters #kangaroo #springer

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anniekoh · 8 months

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Blackbird Spyplane

Too many places are STERILE and TORCHED — let’s make them COOL and FUNKY

In praise of Un-Grammable Hang Zones (U.G.H.Z.)

Right now, in year ~15 of the fetish for “clean lines” and “understated elegance,” I wanna hang for hours in a FRUMPY, MISSHAPEN, INVITINGLY INELEGANT place like Jump’N Java instead, during which time I would never even think to take out my phone and let the feed know I was there because, despite being packed with vibey curios, the place is way too much of a CHAOTIC VISUAL HODGEPODGE to “work” in the form of an iPhone pic on social media … There is one major flaw with U.G.H.Z — the food and drinks on offer typically range from passable to abysmal !

Your clothes are haunted by beautiful ghosts

3. Relatedly, clothes can be haunted by ghosts — in a way that is not spooky but tight — and rocking them can be séance-like. Memories of your past selves get woven into the threads of a favorite t-shirt you wore throughout college or a rainshell you wore in the backcountry. The spectral afterglow of other people’s lives lingers in secondhand pieces, too, which is why it feels so transportive when you buy, e.g., a secondhand jacket and find an old plane ticket or handwritten shopping list or letter tucked in the pocket. The pockets can be empty, too, and the s**t can still be full of ghosts.

Cool clothes should have credit sequences

The pleasures of "C.R.E.D.I.T.S. Mindset" Collaboration Respecters Enjoy Deeper Immersion in the Tightest S**t !! The answer to 3. is illustrated nowhere better than the way N*tflix (and other streaming platforms) make it actively hard to NOT skip end credits these days… They play a few pro forma seconds, then suddenly the window minimizes and the algorithm tries to serve you up some other st INSTANTLY, on autoplay... Just appreciating the visual representation, as name after name goes by, of the fact that MAD PEOPLE besides the director, writer & actors worked to make the thing I just watched — a collectivist counterbalance to romantic yet pernicious myths of INDIVIDUALIST GENIUS that can make us focus disproportionately on “numero uno” at the expense of fellowship & communitarian obligations! (This also manifests in a cool way when you see a filmmaker’s “Thank Yous” and get a little glimpse of the “social architecture” of a film’s making, like, “Dmn I didn’t know Joanna Hogg was homies with Martin Scorsese, that’s tight.”) ... Reading mad fashion magazines — which Erin has been doing since she was a COOL KID conducting adolescent jawn-recon — and whipping yr eye back and forth between the pics and the GUTTER CREDITS, where the info on designers, models, stylists, photographers, etc. is tucked. C.R.E.D.I.T.S. Mindset can be seen in opposition to marketing — because shining a light on otherwise unacknowledged labor can help reveal endemic exploitation (or, say, wildly inflated pricing). But it can abet marketing, too, for worse or better, whether via mockable clichés (“tonight’s chicken was raised 22 miles north of here by a farmer named Carol whose grain-free feed consists of …”) or by explaining and justifying something’s relatively high price tag by letting you know how, e.g., a pricey artisan jawn’s making was materially different from that of a cheap s*tty mass-market jawn.

By “blessed uninterrupted closed system” what we mean is that:

Nothing entered the room that wasn’t already there (e.g., no hot takes, no tweets, no IG stories, no “streaming content”) and

Nothing went out (no data for advertisers to vacuum up, no fuel for the algorithm to ingest, no performed versions of ourselves for the timeline to behold.) This was like that baller ROOM OF ONE’S OWN s*t Virginia Woolf was talking about, baby… And g-d dmn, it felt great!!

Is Ssense hurting the cool-clothes ecosystem? https://www.blackbirdspyplane.com/p/is-ssense-hurting-the-cool-clothes-ecosystem

#style #humor #blackbird spyplane #instagram #fashion

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jojo0039 · 8 months

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*Pogue for Life* Welcome to Kitty Hawk Part 1

It is barely dawn and Jo and the rest of her friends are sitting outside.

Jo is sitting beside JJ and Kie as they watch the rest of the Chateau collapse to the ground.

The fire is still going, but more calmly.

"It could have been a faulty electrical wire." Pope guesses.

"The place was all wood. A tinderbox." Kie comments.

Jo leans her head on JJ's shoulder.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder.

"Thing just went up." Cleo says.

"Just out of nowhere. I'm just glad we all made it out safely." Jo says.

"Verdict is in bro. Whoever is up there does not like you." JJ comments.

Jo swats his arm.

Thunder cracks against the sky.

The friends quickly run down to the dock so they can take shelter.

The rain is pouring down pretty hard.

"When did you say the pilot is getting in?" John B asks Sarah.

"Probably in like an hour. Once he's here, my dad said we can leave whenever we want." Sarah tells them.

"Okay, well as much as I would love to ghost my parents again. I can't." Pope states.

"Pope, we're talking about El Dorado here. Can't you just slip out the back maybe?" JJ retorts.

"Great advice." Kie jokes.

"It's always worked for me." JJ mumbles.

"I agree with Pope. There's a couple of stops I have to make first." Jo locks eyes with JJ.

She quickly averts her gaze.

"Ok. Let's do what we need to do and meet up at the airstrip in an hour." Kie comments as she jumps down from the railing.

"One hour Pope. Not a second later."

JJ yells after him as Pope and Cleo walk away from the dock.

"I promise one hour." Pope yells back.

"I'm gonna go pack some stuff and break the news to my parents." Kie states as she starts to walk off behind Pope and Cleo.

"Do you need one of us to go with you?" Jo asks her.

Kie shakes her head.

"No. I can handle my parents. Besides you guys gotta pack to. I'll be okay."

Jo pulls Kie into a hug.

"See you soon." Jo says with a smile.

Kie walks off the dock.

"Do you need me to go with you? You know in case things get ugly."

JJ pulls Jo closer to him by her waist.

John B and Sarah share an amused look.

"I'll be okay Jay. You don’t need to worry about me." she tells him.

"You know I always worry about you." he tells her.

They lock eyes and for a minute they forget that they’re not alone.

John B clears his throat breaking the two of them apart.

"Okay, well since you don't need me. I'm gonna swing by the shack for old time's sake." JJ says breaking the tension.

"We'll see you guys in an hour." Sarah calls after them as they walk hand in hand off the dock.

******************************

Jo stands outside her father's house nervously.

She unlocks the door and sneaks through the house to the steps.

She climbs up the steps and sneaks into her room.

She quickly grabs a backpack and throws clothes and medical supplies into her bag.

She changes her clothes and grabs her passport.

She slips it into her back pocket and takes a look around.

There might be a chance she isn't coming back.

She opens the door and looks down the hall.

When she doesn't see anybody she sneaks out and down the steps.

She sees her dad's office and the light is on.

She takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.

Her dad is sitting at his desk typing on his computer.

He is speaking on the phone.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." he says into the phone before he hangs up.

He gives her a look of disappointment.

She steps into the room nervously.

"I know that you're mad at me." she starts.

"Mad isn't even the right word for it Joanna." Buzz snaps.

She looks down at the floor in shame.

"I understand. I won't be here long. I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to South America." she tells him.

He sighs in frustration and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"When are you gonna wake up and realize life isn't about running after lost treasure?" Buzz raises his voice at her.

"This isn't about treasure. Big John has been taken by Carlos Singh." Jo informs her.

Buzz stops in surprise.

"What are you talking about?" he asks her.

"The Pogues and I are leaving to help John B rescue his father. I'm not asking for permission. I'm telling you out of courtesy so you don't try to look for me." she says to him.

"Do you hear yourself? You are not some adult who can just up and travel the world whenever you please. You are a child. And this is too dangerous." Buzz argues.

"I am not a little girl anymore Dad. I have already been through so much. Instead of yelling at me about it, I want you to be proud of me." Jo expresses.

"Proud of you? For what? For endangering your life? Why am I the bad guy for just wanting you to be safe?" he questions.

"Because you are the one who taught me everything I know. All my skills and instincts I learned from you, Dad."

She pauses as she fights back tears.

"I used to listen to all of the stories that you would tell about the calls you were on. And I thought that you were the coolest and I wanted to be just like you. The guy that would do anything for anybody. And that's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna do all that I can do to help my friend save his father." Jo says.

"I just want you safe." he tells her pleadingly.

"Then come with us, Dad." she suggests.

He shakes his head.

"I'm not coming with you." he states firmly.

"Why not? John was your best friend for so many years. With your medical training, you could be a great help to us!" she argues her point.

"I'm not going, Joanna. John made his choices and I am making mine. I'm staying here and I really wish you would too." he tells her.

"I spent so many days not talking to my friends and feeling left out. But I would never turn my back on them. I'm sorry that you feel that way. But I'm going with my friends. You stay and do what you think is right."

She turns on her heels and storms out of the office.

She quickly rushes out of the house and heads for the car.

She checks the time and she sees she has about 40 minutes left before she has to meet her friends to leave.

That gives her plenty of time to say her goodbyes to Rafe.

*******************************

Jo unlocks the side door at Tannyhill.

The house is dark and silent and she looks around.

"Rafe!"

She shouts out but doesn't hear him.

She walks up the steps slowly.

"Rafe!?"

She calls out again.

She hears soft speaking coming from the balcony.

She slowly makes her way out and sees Rafe pacing back and forth in front of the railing.

"Hey." she speaks to catch his attention.

He looks up in surprise at the sound of her voice.

His eyes look bloodshot and he has bags under his eyes.

He just stares at her.

She looks at him in concern.

"Are you okay?" she asks him.

Rafe scoffs at the question.

"My fiancé walked out on me last night. Do you think I'm okay?"

He leans against the rail and crosses his arms over his chest.

She looks at him with sad eyes.

"I am so sorry. It wasn't my intention to hurt you." she tells him.

"Yea, well you did." he comments back.

"I didn't mean for things to go that way. I just- I just felt suffocated and caged in."

He gives her a hurt look.

"When we first got to Guadeloupe, I swore that I wasn't gonna fall back in love with you. But I did, and I don't regret a single moment of that. I want you to know that. When I said yes to you, I meant it. I was ready to spend the rest of my life with you." she tells him.

"So then what changed? If you were so happy with me as you claim to be, what went wrong? I mean I quit drugs for you. I went to a therapist for you. I sold that gold for you! And for what? For you to up and leave me and go be with your Pogue friends? How am I gonna be able to just watch you and see you here and not be with you?" he raises his voice.

"That won't be an issue. I'm going to South America and I don't know if I'm coming back." she says to him.

"What? Why are you going to South America?" Rafe questions.

"John B needs help to save his father. I need to be there and help. I want you to understand why I am doing this."

She steps closer to him.

He looks like he's about to cry.

"But I need you here. I- I don't think I can be okay if you're gone." he confesses to her.

She grabs his hand in hers.

"I will always be here for you. I do love you, Rafe. I always have and I always will."

She feels tears in her eyes.

She watches as he pulls away from her and turns to face the yard.

"Rafe? Is everything okay?" she asks in concern.

"I uh I'm wrestling with this decision about my dad. I know that it helps me and my business if I go through with this, I can really hurt him. And we both know I still care about him." He tells her.

She grabs his arm and turns him so he's facing her.

She grabs his face in her hands.

"Look at me, I'm not gonna pretend that Ward is the greatest or whatever. But you are better than him. The fact that you are struggling with this decision proves that you are. I'm not gonna make the decision for you. But the trick is to do the thing that you're gonna regret the least. If it's gonna eat you up inside to have your father killed, don’t do it. You will never be the same and we both know that." she tells him.

He pulls away from her.

"You're in the process of breaking up with me, so why are you saying all of this to me?" he questions.

"Because you're different now. Because you're the Rafe that I always imagined having a future with."

She pulls her rings off her fingers.

Rafe watches her with sad and heartbroken eyes.

She places the rings on the small table.

"You'll do the right thing. I know you will. Goodbye, Rafe."

She quickly turns to leave the balcony.

She makes it down the steps before she starts sobbing.

She presses her hand over her chest as it feels tight.

She just said goodbye to the first boy she ever loved and the father of her unborn baby.

#outer banks #pogue for life #joanna mills #rafe cameron #jj maybank #sarah cameron #john b routledge #pope heyward #kiara carrera #cleo #pogues for life #p4l

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cuties-in-codices · 7 months

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some friendly creatures

from the "hours of joanna the mad", bruges, c. 1486-1506

London, British Library, Add MS 18852, fol. 175v, 116v and 252r

#the entire manuscript is a gold mine #go check it out #15th century #marginalia #medieval art #medieval marginalia #hybrids #hours of joanna the mad

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slashcrz · 8 months

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☼☾ ( jonah hauer-king , 27 , he/him , cis male , schellenburg 5 ) - have you seen REUBEN ' RUBY ' SCHELLENBURG? we’ve heard through the grapevine that they’re COOPERATIVE but also OBSESSIVE. when you think of them , you think of AN INHERITANCE LOST, SNOW CAPPED MOUNTAINS, SAD SMILES FOR A LOST TIME.

nicknames; ruby. not ben, never ben. sometimes rubes.

birth date; july 27th, a leo.

orientation; heterosexual.

relationship; betrothed to joanna stuart, and shockingly... enjoying it?

politics; really doesn't want to care all that much, but is trying to quickly learn more to keep his place at the grown up table. tends to lead more liberal, or whatever liberal was in 1800.

religion; agnostic, raised catholic, loosely.

languages; german, french, english, in this order - lesser known of a handful of other languages.

headcanons && backstory.

TW; drinking/alcoholism

once upon a time, reuben toddled after his eldest sibling with admiration in his eyes. he loved their taste for the expensive things, and quite contributes his own such taste in like to their influence. always, even as a child, reuben took very little seriously. their parents, older, he was a surprise baby - riding the coattails of his elder siblings, and perfectly fine with that. no one paid him much heed, and the governess, by now, was tired from raising them, and children of her own.

reuben was, essentially, the prince of his own castle long before he truly became a prince.

there was talk, early on, of marrying reuben off rather fast. it was easily dissolved, by his own hand, like much of the way of his life went. he had no problem bending will to his whim, and got quite good at it rather quickly. maybe this is a trait he learned from his eldest sibling, who always had the best parties, the best friends...

basically, reuben always went where the fun was, where the party was. it was easy to do so, in his family. much of his early 20s are a blur, a mess of his own debauchery. it wasn't until a sobering talk with his family got him to realize that somehow, in the midst of the madness, the money was spent. every drop, every penny, and they were teetering on the edge of ruin.

just like that - ruby turned on the eldest of the family, and took a very active role in the overthrow. but the loyalty was never really for the new leadership in place. in fact, reuben found himself rebelling more than ever, especially when money did not indeed come flooding back in.

he took to forgery scams, taking advantage of clueless nobles, and building a secret wealth of his own. he trusts his siblings none, and keeps his affairs private, while still leeching every drop he can from the family finances, as they begin budding. part of him truly regrets not siding by the obvious preferred sibling in the family - the overthrown eldest.

in versailles, things have changed a bit. becoming a prince as their family departed from the HRE was a shock to him, and forced him to a place of elevated attention, and responsibility, for the first time ever. he has slowed some in his forgery scams, but has amped up the misbehavior in other ways. currently he is worming his way into austria with a long-con, while also having an affair with a very taken scottish princess.

the partying, drinking, blackouts... those have mostly ended, though there are times he does get rather drunk. reuben doesn't see really any problem, and has began to naturally cut back, as his attention diverts elsewhere.

as his affair with joanna is outed to versailles, her father reacts in anger && quickly betrothed the pair, only hours after he broke up with her in an attempt to run from his mess.

he is now struggling in a place between families, unsure where to place his trusts, and mostly views joanna as his only family for the time being. all of his scams have halted except his cash influx from austria.

#francehq.intro #{{ muse ;; reuben s. }}

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attonitos-gloria · 2 years

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What asoiaf/got ships/dynamics that aren't from the dance of dragons era do you like?

ANON, thank you for this question, i could spend hours here talking about that actually, and i apologize in advance for the longest answer to an ask ever seen in this blog <3

so, i think the main answer to that is: i love all the dynamics of house lannister, from AGoT onwards. (i like problematic, abusive families???) jaime and cersei reflecting each other's perfection in a sea of shared grief until jaime loses his hand and the mirror shatters; tyrion's devotion to jaime, the way they are tied together through a lie until the moment jaime cuts the thread off. the friendship between tyrion and penny is so so so important to me, too.

i love, love, love, the ghost of joanna, the what-if that haunts everything, and how it impacts tyrion's life, how he's been forced to carry this blame and associate this blame to his disability... the everlasting impact tywin imprinted in each one of them through consistent abuse that they repeat and pass onto other people, and how they have to literally dissociate to handle the trauma. i i love the weight of the valonqar prophecy. how cersei is delusional and paranoid thinking it's about tyrion because she is too blind to realize that her downfall is right in the mirror, right there in the face of her twin - that is, her own face.

i love how the prophecy creates this rift between cersei and tyrion, because cersei is the only person who could make tyrion feel truly loved, if she could just let go of tywin's ways. where cersei goes, jaime follows; together, the three of them could have a chance to protect each other. but they don't protect each other! they harm each other in horrible ways! how could cersei escape her father? this god-like figure, larger than life? and so she hates tyrion. she shapes her heart after tywin's; she doesn't know any other way. jaime tries to control the damage, but he can't escape tywin either, no one can, so he inflicts more damage on tyrion in tywin's name by lying about tysha. he makes his little brother believe he will never be loved and, by doing that, through terror and shame and guilt, he cages tyrion in the confines of house lannister, too.

jaime tries to run, then, by joining the kingsguard: he doesn't want to be tywin's golden heir. but then, he is stuck in a court where the king rapes his wife and wants to set the world on fire. he is seventeen, the king is mad, his father is at the gates: jaime can't escape tywin - or rather, he can’t escape his own heart, shaped after tywin, and what he decides to do then haunts him for the rest of his life. (i'm not saying it wasn't heroic of him to save the city; but the timing was just too convenient for house lannister. as were the methods. as were the people he chose to save, and the people he chose not to.) and the war is over, at last. cersei is going to be queen! all she ever wanted! but the new king is not the prince she dreamed of. to ensure house lannister's power, her father marries her off to another man, a man who abuses her over and over. all jaime wanted was to stay in court with his sister. now they are finally there together, but jaime is watching his twin, his queen: married with a violent king and unable to do anything to protect her. a joke of a knight. none of them can escape house lannister's grasp, until tyrion finally breaks free, in the most chaotic way possible. when tyrion kills tywin, he kills the only god he and his siblings ever knew. this quote lives in my head rent-free:

Snatch scratched at his stubble with the point of his hook. "Nasty thing, a crossbow. How many men you kill with that?"

"Nine." His father counted for at least that many, surely. Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, Shield of Lannisport, Hand of the King, husband, brother, father, father, father.

sorry, i’m never getting over this; tywin is their whole world???? he is a multitude of men? tyrion repeats father three times, one for cersei, one for jaime, one for himself, he thinks there’s no space tywin doesn’t fill and now that tywin is dead the world is kind of void, empty. that’s religious! he is speaking as someone who abandoned his faith, who apostatized!!! (my friend @thistle-and-thorn has a theory that tyrion’s arc in ADWD is just grrm processing the lost of his catholic faith and his journey toward atheism. she can explain it better, but i think there’s good arguments for that.) WHY WOULD GEORGE DO THAT TO ME????

anyway, tyrion leaves house lannister, but house lannister doesn’t leave him, as it often happens when you abandon your faith: there’s something that lingers. tyrion acts as a monster: he acts like tywin made him. he is not a well-behaved victim. he doesn't mourn and suffer prettily. how could he? after a lifetime of being lied to, of being told he is unlovable, and finding out he wasted the only true love he ever had? no, tyrion is not going to be merciful; he is paying back in the only currency house lannister knows and the only language they understand. lannisters only speak in debts. he is going to be the one to destroy house lannister after all; he's already begun..... and each one of them are really just reaping what tywin sowed.

just... house lannister, man.

i think the future of the lannisters is being utterly destroyed and i want to watch my favorite dysfunctional family burning in despair in the aftermath of their own decisions so badly. like, i just want to see tywin's legacy destroyed, ashes on the ground. i am going to DANCE on tywin's grave when it happens. and if tyrion can’t let go of the tywin that lingers in his heart, he will go down with it? that remains to be seen, though, and i hope meeting Dany will start the process of his healing.

ok. i am VERY sorry about this crazy lannister moment. let's move on.

i love the relationship between tyrion and sansa. i'm completely obsessed with this doomed, horrible marriage. not that i think anything should or could have happened when sansa was a child-hostage in king's landing!! but i like the story being told through them: how tyrion embodies, at once, the knighthood that sansa dreams of (by trying to protect her from joffrey's abuse, by not raping her. 'i am only a little lion, and i vow: i shall not savage you' was literally one of the first thing he's ever said to her!!) and the abuse she suffers on virtue of being a maid (by being forced to marry him, and her overall situation as a hostage of his family); how sansa is a sort of projection of tysha (i've angrily ranted about it here) at the same time he is painfully aware that sansa represents a life he will never have (a family that loves him, a wife that wants him). how sansa wants to be loved but thinks no one will ever marry her for love, only for her claim, at the same time tyrion is thinking he doesn't want winterfell only, he wants her, he wanted a chance of a true marriage with her. and yet, they CAN'T communicate. they can't, it's impossible, like that pathetic scene of overcooked peased and mutton: sansa is too afraid, tyrion is too aware of her disgust for him, there's a fracture between them that cannot be healed or crossed. but they are together in this in a weird way; they are alone together. i think this was one of the few things i liked about the show - i didn't like tyrion's overall whitewashing, but that particular adaptation was made with george's approval and it makes sense in the light of the books. they depicted sansa and tyrion as some sort of tragic team-up in king's landing, as each other's allies in the saddest way possible - because it is a fruitless alliance. it leads nowhere: tyrion is not going to rape her, so their marriage won't give him lannister children; he is protecting her but effectively keeping her in the lannister household so he is not... really, actually saving her (no one escapes tywin, etc). without children, neither of them are going to be given winterfell. it is a barren marriage, a pointless island of safety, but it's what they could do with what they had in hand, that is, each other. and something about this is deeply moving to me? i think there's a lot of hidden kindness in this ship. they break my heart. in every universe, they do, and i have tried not to ship them! but i can't!! they are very compelling from a narrative point of view. that being said, i don't think they will ever be happy together, and that's kind of the reason why i ship them in the first place. i look forward to them meeting again in the books, though. they are my ultimate one true pairing, unfortunately. we don't get to choose who we ship.

i love jaime and brienne. i love how brienne forces jaime to confront his failures and his flaws. i love how she is, in all ways that matter, the anti-cersei: she is not there to reflect his own image back to him; she is everything he wishes he could be one day. she exposes him, she touches his deepest wounds, by simply existing and doing her thing. i think it's supposed to have romantic undertones and i ship them that way, but even without the romance, i still think it's one of the most important relationships of the series. (also love podrick, their adopted son, with uncle tyrion in the family??? like? oh my God: i think tyrion should be everyone's uncle.)

they never met in the books, but after so many intentional narrative parallels i am convinced george wants me to get deeply invested in jon/dany/tyrion. he demanded that of me, personally, he came into my house. these three are going to save the world and rule together. or they will all die in the war or kill themselves in the process; i don't know anymore. all i know is that they'll meet and it will be THE event of the asoiaf series. i particularly have a very soft spot for tyrion/jon? their interactions in AGoT warm me on cold nights; jon's young curiosity about tyrion, tyrion's harsh kindness...

and, because i am crazy about the lannisters: i’m sorry, but given the intentional parallels that grrm created between dany & cersei (different approach to women in power and how to handle your fire weapons no, i don’t think dany is the mad queen of the series) and the obvious similarities between jon & jaime (different approaches to what it means to keep your oaths and break them and being honorable), YOU UNDERSTAND HOW JON/DANY/TYRION IS THE FOUND FAMILY THAT JAIME/CERSEI/TYRION COULD NEVER BE???? *going crazy again and running in circles*

i do believe everything is about house lannister, yes. when i said we were moving on from them, i LIED, i was lying.

let’s try again. moving on!!

sansa is the character i relate to the most: the way she sees the world as a story, a tale, and people as characters in it, with these predetermined roles? and the shattering of this worldview as she finds out that people don't play their part? so with that in mind: the parallels between sansa/ned and sansa/littlefinger is something that i often think about. in the end of the books i believe it will be clear that sansa is, and has always been, ned's daughter, and not petyr's. the parallels and similarities between ned and sansa overwhelm me (this idealism is present in ned's chapters, too, a lot). i think the way grrm inserted petyr there to expose this rift in sansa's character was brilliant: is she going to be ned's daughter and hold on to honor, to kindness, to love through loyalty, to the hidden truth in every ideal she's learned even though the world is not ideal (all the songs can't be lies)? is she going to be petyr's daughter and live in a liquid world based on lies, on cynicism, assuming the worst of everyone and using everyone as pieces on a board? it's where she is now, as alayne. but it's not how she's going to end, i hope? (don't get me wrong; i love petyr/sansa, it's a ship i relate to a lot, unfortunately. and it's so wonderfully written! but i very much want sansa to kill petyr one day. i want all my faves killing their abusive fathers!! hello alicent?!? get it over with girl)

they haven't met yet in the books, but when sansa and brienne meet, i think i will legitimately cry. (something something the lady and her knight)

bran is my second favorite character, and the friendship between him, meera and jojen is the most precious thing to be defended and protected at all costs. it's just too pure. like, the only not-problematic dynamic of this list, full of incest, underage pairings, daddy issues and abusive relationships. bran, jojen and meera are rays of sunshine.

and it's weird, but i have very specific headcanons about lyanna and benjen being the closest among their siblings - everyone talks about lyanna and ned, because he went to war for her and adopted her son, but benjen literally grew up with her when ned and brandon left to be fostered in the Vale? he mourned her loss so much that he took the black when she died? 🥺 everyone out there competing for lyanna's attention, going to war and trying to prove they loved her more than ALL THE OTHERS, and benjen just. couldn't live in winterfell without her. he just quietly went away and no one knows why? i think about that, sometimes.

ok, there's more. this list keeps growing, but these are the faves that consume my time and energy. THANK YOU FOR ASKING. i am SO SORRY about the length of this, it’s just..... i love talking about the blorbos!!! i'd love to know yours, please tell me about them.

#ask me stuff #i'm sorry this is so long?#everything you touch turns to gold #not me being normal about the lannisters?! again.

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cainightfics · 1 year

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Hi ^^ just finished reading the radicalisation of tyrell wellick over the course of 7 very intense hours and i loved it beyond words. I was just wondering if you could tell us a bit about the difference between the way tyrell methodically and emotionelessly kills in your fic versus the tyrell that freaks out after sharon knowled ? (also as a plus, I think your story is very tender and doesnt need any sex scenes, especially if its not something you wanna write)

heyyy bestie. thanks for the nice words!

to answer your question: basically, i think the reason why tyrell panicked after he killed sharon knowles is because that wasnt part of The Plan. he knew he'd fucked up and this would irrevocably destroy his plan to become cto, that's why he started crying, hyperventilating, and immediately tried to wipe his fingerprints off of her neck. i always saw his reaction more as "oh fuck, why did i do that??" rather than actual remorse. i think the fact that he didnt tell joanna about it until the police showed up at their house further supports this-- he was hoping he'd just get away with it and she'd never find out. he knew how disappointed she would be in him if she found out he'd done something so reckless and impulsive that it not only jeopardized his position at e corp, but might also get him imprisoned.

i think if tyrell thought he could get away with his murders, he'd be more willing to do it. i mean, he certainly doesnt seem to give a shit at all about the thousands of people who die in the cyberbombings. if he knows he'll get away with it, and he knows whoever the most important person in his life is at the time won't be mad at him after, i don't think tyrell really cares lol. i don't think he ever really feels guilty about anything, but he is afraid of consequences.

i think tyrell would LIKE to be someone who is cold and emotionless. he would LIKE to be someone he didnt act so impulsively, and instead killed with premeditation. when he shows up at elliots apartment in s1e9, he kind of enacts this fantasy of himself as a cold hearted killer, and he wants elliot to see him that way, too, because he wants elliot to think hes powerful. he does this whole speech about how when he murdered sharon knowles, he felt nothing besides discomfort, and then wonder-- but notice how he conveniently leaves out the mini-freakout he had after he killed her lol. i think tyrell really valorizes psychopathic behaviour because its the sort of thing he views necessary to get ahead, and i think he enjoys the power hurting people gives him, but hes ultimately a BIT too afraid to do it unless someone gives him permission. more than anything, i think tyrell enjoys being on a leash, lol.

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