#Da On has shed enough bloody tears

[anotherfanaccount]

Given what we know of this drama. There will be no plot holes and loose ends.

Justitia dresses up and sends all the culprits to hell herself. Taegyu is going to get what he deserves soon. He gets the extra human world justice because he was that heinous.

And by dying Justitia fulfills Bael's annoying rule. Now the cleanup crew can preserve Bit Na's body. And Justitia will return. And Tae Gyu will see hell for real.

And then we can see Da On and Bit Na camping for real. The demon subunit join sometimes. Da On's found family and colleagues will join some days. And they'll live together till the end of their human lives happily and making sure the evils of the world get what they deserve.

[stiltonbasket]

au of an au for qin su!wwx where wwx is still in qin su's body but it's JYL who gets summoned back in MXY's body.

Jiang Yanli doesn’t know what she was expecting to happen after she died, but it certainly wasn’t waking up a few minutes later in a donkey shed with blood all over her robes.

She’d been stabbed, she remembers. Perhaps they put her in the first sheltered place they could find while the battle was still going on, and somehow missed the fact that she was still alive? Yanli reaches up to her chest and tries to feel her heartbeat; she is somehow very certain that she had died, since the look on A-Xian’s face when the sword went through her chest was--

But the memory remains unfinished, because Yanli’s hands are poking at her bosom, patting over her ribs one by one as she wonders when she became so thin. Her mother always complained about her narrow figure, even as she scolded her for eating so much when she was in her teens--and Madam Jin worried about how difficult childbirth might be before Jin Ling arrived, since her waist and hips were so skinny--but her breasts were never this flat, and her ribs never stuck out this much even when she was a child.

And then her fingers brush over the rounded lump at her throat, and reveal the truth in one devastating blow that brings Yanli to her knees.

This isn’t my body, she realizes, backing away from the bloody array on the ground and into the rickety cupboard standing against the wall. This is a man’s body.

___

Less than two hours after she wakes, Yanli escapes from the Mo estate in such turmoil that she almost forgets to take the donkey with her.

Keep your wits about you, she berates herself, dressing herself in the only set of spare robes she could find before squirming out of the shed’s high window and crumpling into the dust outside. Mo Xuanyu meant to bring back A-Xian, but that means that A-Xian is...

She blinks back tears, dragging the donkey down the road behind her as she reads over Mo Xuanyu’s letter again. The poor boy had been one of Jin Guangshan’s illegitimate sons, Jiang Yanli’s own xiaoshuzi, and Jin Guangyao had exiled him because he had learned the truth about Qin Su being his younger half-sister.

He was behind your death, too, the letter said. I believe he might even have organized Jin Zixuan’s assassination, since he most likely murdered our father, as well.

Jiang Yanli grits her teeth and pushes on. The single long cut in her arm throbs--a cut that will heal only when Jin Guangyao dies, according to Mo Xuanyu--but the sting is nothing to the twenty hours of sheer agony that was giving birth to Jin Ling, who turned out so big and chubby that she spent the first few hours of his life wondering how such an enormous baby could have possibly fit inside her.

How old would A-Ling be now? she wonders. Did Jin Guangyao and Qin Su bring him up, in mine and Zixuan’s place?

Oddly enough, she doesn’t find herself shying away at the thought of bringing Jin Guangyao to justice. She can probably count on Nie Mingjue to do the actual killing, if it comes to it; there was bad blood between the two even before she and her husband died, and quite frankly, she doesn’t blame Nie Mingjue for it.

A-Xian tore the men who killed the Jiang shidis and shimeis limb from limb, and she would expect no less from a man who watched Jin Guangyao kill his brothers-in-arms right before his eyes.

But then, why did they swear brotherhood after that?

It must have been for Zewu-jun’s sake, Yanli thinks wearily, when she finally stops at a river crossing and leads her donkey down onto the pebbly beach to take a drink. Though I doubt that Zewu-jun could have sworn brotherhood with anyone who had Lan blood on their hands, whether he owed them a life-debt or not.

Her stomach growls, and she searches in the donkey’s saddle-bag for something to eat just in case the owners of the Mo estate had left some bread or fruit there to coax the animal with. Her brief hunt yields a pair of shriveling apples, half-dried but not yet spoiled, so she washes down the fresher one with plenty of cold water and feeds the bigger, drier apple to the donkey.

“I think I’ll call you Apple,” she laughs, as it wolfs down the fruit before sticking its muzzle back into the bubbling stream. “Do you like your name, xiao-pingguo?”

Little Apple takes to the name well enough, and brays contentedly every time she calls it. They rest together by the river for an hour, with Yanli napping in the shade with Little Apple keeping guard; and she starts off again just after noon, hoping to find a main road that might direct her to a town and then towards the nearest cultivation sect.

Jiang Yanli has to admit that Yunmeng Jiang is out of the question: because as much as she loves her younger brother, she highly doubts that he won’t do something stupid if he thinks some nameless Jin exile is pretending to be her. And she certainly can’t go back to Lanling with Jin Guangyao still there, so her quarry will have to be the Gusu Lan clan. Hanguang-jun was friends with her A-Xian, and would surely hear her out for his sake if for nothing else; and Zewu-jun is not as hot-tempered as Chifeng-zun, meaning that Yanli will come to no harm even if Lan-zongzhu doesn’t believe her.

“Xiao-Pingguo,” Yanli begins, stepping over something silvery in the grass as the two of them head deeper into the woods, “how far do you think the--”

Suddenly, her legs go out from under her. Little Apple brays and backs away in alarm, tossing his head anxiously as Yanli struggles into a sitting position and tries to make sense of the fact that her donkey is now over ten feet below her.

“What on earth?” she mutters, biting back one of A-Xian’s favorite curse words as she takes stock of her current situation: trapped inside a net swaying far above the ground, and with no means of cutting her way free from it without breaking her own neck.

“It caught something!” Yanli hears a boyish voice shout, followed by the crackling of someone rushing through the forest and the twang of a drawn bowstring. “Duck, Yu-da-shixiong! I’m going to shoot!”

“You are going to do no such thing,” someone else drawls, with a hint of a sharp Northern accent that reminds her of her late mother. “At least see what you’ve caught, you onionhead. If your stupid nets managed to catch a Lan, you’ll have Chifeng-zun and Hanguang-jun dragging you to Jin-zongzhu for punishment. Chifeng-zun might even punish you himself, since he’s Jin-zongzhu’s sworn da-ge. Do you really want to take the risk?”

“No,” the first boy grumbles. “And anyway, it looks like it’s just--you!”

The sudden dislike in his voice makes Yanli look down, startled, and then the breath flies out of her body as the Jin disciple marches up to stand beneath her.

“Jin Ling?” she asks, her own voice cracking like shattered glass as the Jiang disciple mounts his sword and flies up towards her, presumably so that he can help her climb out of the net. “A-Ling--is it you?”

[border-spam]

Typhon

Typhon has only ever meant well.

The white lies, the sprinklings of exaggeration in his stories? Well, that just made people laugh, made ‘em happy. The bravado and bad jokes? Leda liked those, made her smile, and if Leda was happy then what else mattered?

Nothing.

Till she was killed.

Everything that built up to that night had been soul crushing, days of tears and rage as they screamed at each other and the undeniable end that approached.

Troy was dying.

8 years they’d managed to play pretend - a makeshift little family unit on a forgotten star -  that everything would be ok, when they all knew there was no way the boy would reach adulthood. Even Tyreen, too young to even really comprehend death, knew deep in her core some way.

They’d gotten 8 years, but they wouldn’t get another. Typhon sat on that rickety little bed he’d carved from Nekro-wood when the twins were born, sat for what felt like days now next to his exhausted wife, and waited. Waiting was all there was left to do, but they shouldn’t have expected an 8 year old to understand that.

They shouldn’t have ignored Tyreen’s outbursts, clearly confused and lashing out for attention while the back of her mind screamed how wrong her twin looked in his frail little body, eyes closed and chest barely moving. He knows now they shouldn’t have done that, how much it hurt her and why it lead to what it did.

But Typhon has only ever meant well.

When he passed out to Troy’s screaming and the crack of Leda’s stone skin as Ty wrenched her crushed fist from it’s grip, there was no expectation of anything bar dread. His last slipping thought as he blacked out, unable to process the horror he’d just witnessed, was the grim humour that tomorrow he’d be burying his son and his wife.

Waking up to a flushed, confused Troy asking where Leda was as he carefully sat up in bed while his twin curled around him, was like a blow to the skull.

He was alive. He was awake. It was a miracle. It had to be a miracle, what else could it have been? Whatever had.. had happened to Leda.. she must have done something, must be watching down on them from the heavens and healed their boy, that was it. That had to be it, and Typhon had sobbed with his twins, hugging their little bodies to his chest and promising he’d make sure they stayed safe, he promised Leda that day.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but Tyreen would choke him to death with her bare hands if she didn’t know Troy would turn on her like a switchblade.

He’d tried so hard to do what he’d promised, to keep them safe, but he’d never actually listened to Tyreen despite coddling her to a suffocating level. She’d tried to explain so many times, tried to tell him about the “bad feeling” in her stomach as The Leech wracked hunger pains through her tiny system that were too inhuman for her to be able to describe in terms he could comprehend.

She’d told him she wanted to leave, that there were people out there who needed her and Troy’s help, that there were so many lost souls she could reach out to and give belonging, but he’d just laugh and shake his head. Tell her that would be a terrible idea, that “the people out dere” would skin them both alive and sell their bodies to “da corporations” before they’d manage to say hello, and she’d hated him. The Leech squirmed in rage within her ribcage as it’s lure to Pandora was denied over and over while years passed, and Tyreen was forced to remain on Nekrotafeyo for far longer than she could bear.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but the looks he gave his daughter, the fear in his eyes and nervousness in his words only added to the dread she’d begun to understand as she got older. The realisation that her father thought she was a monster, and it might be true. He’d kept her trapped on a planet with nothing she hungered for, and the great maw swallowed pieces of Tyreen instead.

Troy was just forgotten.

Typhon hadn’t meant it, he’d not purposefully relegated his son to a provider that kept their larder stocked and bots functional, but it had happened anyway.

Tyreen was the one who needed attention, Tyreen was the one he needed to watch and keep close, she was the troublemaker. Troy was just.. Troy was just there, a lanky shape in the side of vision that was hyperfocused on his flighty twin, and it happened so slowly neither of them really noticed.

Troy was quiet, Troy was easy to manage, Troy didn’t complain or pout or have tantrums, he’d just do as you asked. Troy would scurry up rock-faces till twilight set and he couldn’t see clearly anymore, then limp back to camp with scraped knees and bloody knuckles and beam at being thanked for bringing back some Manta eggs

Troy would disappear for 10 hours and arrive home with a sack of glow pods, even though there were none for miles around, all just to see the smile light across his sister’s face as she leeched the plants and hummed their deliciousness.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but Troy was so easy to raise that his father stopped even seeing him.

It took about a year on Pandora for the rose tinted lenses to begin to clear for Troy about how things had been at home.

He was at Tyreens neck about it at any opportunity till then, jumped at any chance to remind her she made him come here and lied, to rub it in and make sure she was perfectly aware how much he wanted to leave, but it died down as he began to really see the truth of things.

Tyreen didn’t change, shed always wanted off Nekro from the moment The Leech sowed its seeds of influence through whispers in the back of her mind after what happened to Leda. She hated Typhon, but Troy didn’t, and still doesn’t years later despite having a far more realistic view of how poor a father he’d been to them. Can’t bring himself to want to cut him off completely when he knows how easy it is to make mistakes that hurt other people…

Typhon has only ever meant well, but the twins had been starving on that planet.

Tyreen in spirit, no life source more complex than animals to feed from meant The Leech constantly gnawed at the back of her mind demanding she leave, but Troy physically.

It hadn’t been so bad before, when he was younger. He and Typhon could easily hunt more than enough food together even if Troy mostly ended up carrying small loads and helping his dad as a kid, but by the time Typhon’s loss and fear had left him too concerned about Tyreen to let her accompany Troy and too paranoid to leave camp with him, things were bad.

They were very bad.

The twins are two sides of the same ravenous hunger. Tyreen’s ate her soul, but Troy’s decimated his body.

He’d take Grouse on long trips, the bots ability to carry a life saver even if he was too loud to actually help with the hunt itself, but there was just never enough food.

The animals on Nekrotafeyo were more energy than flesh, there wasn’t much on them in the first place, and coupling that with vegetation humans absolutely hadn’t evolved to eat, survival became a harder struggle every year that passed and bigger he grew.

Typhon was half his size and seemed to never pick up how much Troy was flagging, but that’s just how things were.

That was life, that’s how it is. Right?

Troy had believed that was the case till Pandora, and him actually getting to see how other people lived.

He’d been so proud of the few kilos he put on in those 6 months on Seifa’s ship.

She’d been insistent on eating way more often than he was used to and oddly grateful in a way he didn’t understand when he’d finish a meal, but when the first medic he’d let near him at Sol’s insistence when they’d entered their business partnership told him he was dangerously underweight, it had been a slap to the face.

He wasn’t, he’d put on weight. He was bigger than he’d ever been, you could pinch his skin now, so what were they fucking talking about?

Ranting at Ty afterwards had left a shitty taste in his mouth. She’d looked almost sad as she’d listened, told him he needed to actually trust her for once, that she wasn’t wrong about dad. That dad had been a fucking monster.

He couldn’t agree, wouldn’t. Stormed back to his room in their tiny studio space and brooded for hours - gnawing at his nails as Pandora’s night air turned frigid.

No one looked like he had when he came here. Dad had never said anything about him being thin. He was normal. He was normal, wasn’t he? He’d had no one to compare to, but…

No one here looked like he had.

He’d not seen anyone that thin, skeletal structure that visible. Hadn’t seen anyone yet who was normal and had cheekbone ridges you could see a jaw hinge through as it moved.

That hadn’t been normal, had it. He didn’t know and dad hadn’t said anything, acted like nothing was wrong for years.

He’d been starving, hadn’t he, and Typhon had slapped him on the back and thanked him for dinner every night instead of even hinting at worry. He’d been starving and the only person who could have helped him understand how sick he was had cared more about keeping his children by his side, than if one dropped dead.

So he stops bringing up wanting to go home. He stops defending Typhon if Tyreen needs to rage against her past in a monologue at night to help her shrug off the anger and get some rest.

He’s weird about food.

He won’t stand for waste when the Slums are hungry.

Neither can forgive their father for the childhood he caused.

Typhon has only ever meant well, but his children won’t speak of him at all.

[rosethebookworm]

Safe?

This is my take on what happened when Logan got yanked out of the episode, I just had to write it.

Aka:

Logan finds himself in the dark side of the Mindscape and isn’t quite sure what to make of what he finds there.

Warnings: Remus being himself, (mentions of bloody things etc), Spoilers for the new episode! Mentions of the other sides I guess? (sorry for the long post, I don’t know how to put things under the cut)

.•°°•..•°°•..•°°•..•°•. .•°°•..•°°•..•°°•..•°•. .•°°•.

When Logan was unceremoniously dumped into the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape, robbed of his tie, and left in darkness, there were several questions that were prominent in his thoughts. The most bothersome of those, however, was what in the world was he standing in.

Lifting up a shoe, it was slightly unnerving to find that it stuck to the floor ever so slightly, and with a faint grimace Logan forced himself to ignore that sensation and instead continued on. He couldn’t stay here in the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape, even if the others had not been appreciating his information- no, that was an issue to be dealt with at a later date, not when he was currently walking along ground that was unnervingly sticky.

Eventually Logan began to hear what he believed was loud singing, followed by a similarly unsettling thwack of a weapon against flesh, and reluctantly turned his feet towards that direction. Seeing as he was not well versed in the mental map of the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape, it would be important to find someone who would be at least somewhat helpful in finding his way back to the others. He was not going to think about whether or not they would want him to return, that was not something he was supposed to worry about.

Luckily, his feet stopped sticking to the ground as he came closer to the sounds, instead his feet sinking into soft mud that Logan would argue was objectively better than whatever that previous substance had been made up of.

“Remus!”, Logan called, now close enough to see the green-clad side smashing through what looked like badly rendered figures that somewhat resembled monsters- badly rendered simply because they were so bloodied. His call had caused Remus to pause mid-swipe, and the song to stop, Remus instead letting out a delighted cry and rushing over to Logan as though about to hug him, Logan reflexively stepping back and holding out a hand- he was not in the mood for hugs, he was simply on a mission.

“Come down for a visit? You even lost your tie! That’s a shame because I’d love to use that tie to-“, Remus began, eyes lighting up as he swung around his morningstar in order to emphasize his sentiment- however he was quickly cut off by Logan beginning to speak. It was a little strange to Logan that that had been enough to gain the others attention and listen, whereas the others sides were known for- no, once again, this was not the time nor place to think about the other sides.

“I did not willingly come down here, Remus. Deceit had ah... taken my place, and seemed to think that bringing me here would keep me out of sight. I am looking to return to them in order to offer more context to their moral argument.”, Logan explained, shifting slightly in order to keep his feet from sinking too deeply in the mud.

“You’re leaving so soon?”, instantly Remus’ shoulders sank and his eyes darkened slightly, a strange reaction, at the realization that Logan was just here to leave again.

“Yes? They are in need of my facts, even if they do not realize their necessity to the conversation at hand.”

“They don’t realize- I’m going to kill them! I’m going to crack open their skulls and use all of their squirmy little brains as spaghetti with their eyes as meatballs!”, Remus screeched, his eyes even wider than before as he swung around his morningstar angrily, turning as though he was about to go and rip the spines out of the other sides, before Logans hand on Remus’ shoulder made him freeze.

“Do not bother with that. It would only serve to make them more terrified of you, which would be overwhelmingly damaging to Thomas’ already fragile mental state, and I have enough trouble getting them to listen to me without you overriding their fears.”, Logan cautioned, trying to speed past the fact that the other sides had a frequent problem of ignoring Logans input.

Remus had stilled, morningstar dragging on the ground as he peered at Logans face. It was slightly unnerving to the other, to be studied so closely by someone who was hardly ever seen to be serious.

“Let’s see what they thought of your disappearance then, they couldn’t forget their dearest little glasses wearing dork! Which means-“, Remus quickly changed his pace, sending Logan an alarmingly sharp grin as he threw an arm over the other sides shoulder and gestured to the ceiling, Logan coughing pointedly in order to cut the others words off, causing a raspberry to be blown at him in retaliation.

But strangely, even with the chaotic sides arm around him, Logan did not feel unsafe, in fact it was oddly comforting, not that he would ever admit that.

Waving a hand, the dark sky slowly shimmered into a view of the others- Patton had become a frog? Was this another one of Remus’ strange fantasy’s? A quick look at Remus’ face proved otherwise as the sides face pulled into a displeased one, once again waving his hand and rewinding the images until it was back to when Logan got pulled off of the screen.

Together they watched as Patton, Roman and Thomas continued to argue past Logans Disappearance, not one of them commenting on Logan getting pulled away. Together they watched as the conversation shifted entirely away as Deceit revealed himself and shifted into himself as they all became a video game. Together, as Logan felt his heart drop lower and lower with each passing second, and Remus’ grip on his shoulders became more and more protective.

“I have seen enough. Thank you, Remus.”, Logan finally managed quietly as the others continued to fight, Remus instantly sprinting up and slashing through the screen with his morningstar which brought to mind Romans similar action with his sword from earlier, though this time the action did not displease Logan.

Remus turned back to Logan, and the other was surprised to find his face shinning with tears. ‘Dark Creativity’ crying? That was peculiar, but Logan did not even feel any ounce of curiosity as to why he was upset, instead Logan simply felt numb.

“You’re not going back to them. If they won’t appreciate you, I will.”, Remus growled, and for a moment Logans mind connected the man before him to some sort of attack dog, ready and able to destroy anyone who stood in his way.

“I must return to him. Thomas’ mental health is more important than I am. Besides, I am very used to them not acknowledging me, Remus, that is nothing new. Their... clear absence of concern is... is something I have not witnessed before.”, he mused softly, eyes glancing upwards towards the darkness where the images had been but now only comforting darkness was surrounding them.

Remus growled, clearly not pleased with Logans insistence that he needed to return but he sighed, defeated again by Logan.

“Will you come back? I created this delightful chess set the other day where the pieces have to fight to the death and smash each other into the ground- pure mindless fighting! But maybe you could order the pieces against me? It’s gets more boring than Roman’s rants about Disney to fight against myself.”, Remus asked, something similar to what Logan would call a “puppy dog” look on his face, and for the first time Logan allowed a look of shock to cross his face.

“You want me to teach you how to play chess? Well, if the pieces destroy themselves then I would assume it would be closer to wizards chess which is still objectively fascinating, but still, you would want me to teach you about a variant of chess?”, he questioned, sounding genuinely shocked, something that made Remus’ expression turn to something mischievous- not malicious, oddly enough.

“Well you are a teacher after all! Unless you don’t think you could teach me, maybe I’m too difficult for the little teacher man to tame.”

“I... I will return then, Remus. It would be... mentally stimulating to teach you how to play wizards chess and... perhaps a needed distraction from the days activities.”, Logan acquiesced, and Remus instantly began to celebrate, rushing forward and kissing Logans cheek before continuing his strange dance into the distance, cheering something about getting the board set up with all sorts of fun obstacles.

“Remus I still need a way out-“, the glasses wearing side called out, sounding amusedly exasperated, which surprised himself. Since when was he amused by the others antics?

“Oh! Be sure to tell SnakeShit that he is not welcome home tonight and he has to sleep in the shed with worms and spiders and snails and-“, Remus’ voice faded out as Logan felt himself begin to disappear, the man suddenly coming to the realization that his tie was missing, before subsequently realizing that Remus has thought of that, and once again he had his signature tie on.

“Not that any of you care, but I am unharmed, and I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just here to deliver one last fact, and then I will do you all a favor and spare you my company.”

After the others had been sufficiently schooled, Logan kept to his word and sunk down, back to his room. He was not expecting Remus to have actually meant it, and he was not entirely sure he would be able to sink to the ‘dark side’ of the Mindscape.

However, Logan was greeted with the sight of a mostly clean Remus perched on his pillows, a disappointed look on his face.

“You said you’d come baaaaaack.”, Remus whined, sending a pout Logans way and fingering his morningstar as though tempted to swing it through a wall.

“I- I had not truly thought you would still want me to come, or that I would be able to find you in the da- other side of the Mindscape.”, Logan explained, looking ever so slightly baffled even as Remus beamed, jumped up from the bed and rushed over to grab Logans arm.

“Well why didn’t you just say so instead of standing there like a corpse stuck in concrete! We are gonna have so much fun- I already have the pointy men all set up and ready for us to destroy!”, Remus cheered as the room slowly started to dissolve around them, something that had often been the cause of concern for Logan, especially when Remus’ twin was involved, but strangely was not concerning at all.

“You mean statues, correct? Wizards chess is played with statues of people, not actual people.”, Logan corrected, sounding vaguely exasperated, glancing over at Remus with a raised eyebrow.

“But humans are so much more satisfying to destroy!”

Came the gleeful response as Remus smirked back at him and laughed as the room fully dissolved. However the cackle did not alarm Logan- for a moment as a room melted in around them, revealing a large chessboard with suspiciously human-like pieces, Logan felt safer and more comfortable than he had in a while. Perhaps he would stay down here for some time, the others clearly did not value his input, and Remus was already waiting for his explanation of the game with a strangely endearing expression of interest.

Maybe someone was willing to listen to Logan after all.

[bush-viper-cutie]

Reunion - DAY 4

Pairing: none. Just Snape

Word Count: 1,828

Rating: E for Everyone

Plot:  After years of not speaking to them, he visits his parents.

Warnings: none

A/N: Day four! My own challenging prompt for October again! HAPPY SPOOKTOBER! :D

Posted: 10/4/20

Masterlist

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Severus looked at the letter in his hands and reread the address, turning up to analyze the decrepit state of the house before him. There was tall grass all over the lawn, weeds growing between the stone slabs of the walkway, ivy growing up the rotting fence in spirals; it was depressing. He’d thought, when he received notice that his father had transferred their Spinner’s End house over to his name, that they’d done so because they finally had the opportunity to take all their saved up money and moved into a new house far away from him.

This house looked worse than the state of their old – now his – home. This run down shed was far from the city of Cokeworth, hidden deep in Muggle society where no one could have found them. His tired brain couldn’t fully comprehend how worth it had been for them to leave him behind without a note or trace in order to live in a moldy shoebox like this.

Severus pulled up his hood against the autumn wind and stuff the letter in his pocket. He stepped over the fence – broken to ankle height – and made his way down to the door, kicking through spider webs weaved between the tall fescue. He pulled his hood down as he reached the door and knocked cautiously. The letter was in his mother’s writing asking him to come at once, and he didn’t know if his father was around – or if he even lived.

The door opened and his mother – shorter than he remembered with long white hair the texture of straw – opened the door. She still had that sullen look about her, with drooping eyelids that seemed so harshly uncaring.

Severus opened his mouth to speak – Does she recognize me? – but she quickly turned, leaving the door open for him to close on his own. He stepped through and looked around. Newspapers littered the floor, falling off stacks by the walls. It wasn’t just Muggle papers, but Wizarding ones as well. He raised a brow. Father must be dead then, however the coughing in a different room told him otherwise.

He looked up and saw his mother, thin and frail, waiting for him across a small living room. He shut the door and that’s when it hit him. What’s that smell? It reeked inside the house. It smelled of decaying animals, by the dozens. He stepped into the living room and almost retched, feeling the carpet sink an inch under his weight. There was slime oozing out of the fibers, staining his shoes. Foul.

“Wh – ” he couldn’t bring himself to say a single word. This was all too much. He hasn’t seen his parents in eleven years, has lived in his childhood home alone, unaware if they were alive or dead, and he finally gets a letter asking him over and they live here? Look at the state of things!

“Think the house’s infested,” she said tartly.

He plugged his nose with his fingers and spoke nasally. “With what?”

She looked around and pulled back a box of empty bottles and cans with the toe of her shoe. A slimy green, eight-eyed sludge creature scurried away under a hole in the wall. Severus gagged and stared at the old woman before him. She shouldn’t look so old, and yet her skin sagged with wrinkles, outlining her unpleased eyes. “Bundimums. An infestation.”

“Why have you asked me here?” Severus backed away from her. “I haven’t seen you since I left for my seventh year of Hogwarts and you finally contact to – what – ask me to help you with a pest problem? Y-you don’t think I deserved – at the very least – some sort of note from you? You think one letter from the bank detailing the transfer of your house to me was enough?” Severus let go of his nose and gagged at the smell. He pinched it again and shut his eyes, trying his hardest not to cry.

“You left us, Severus,” she spoke quickly, as if it were a waste of breath. “We didn’t give you that house until you were twenty-one. Until we saw who you were involved with.” She shook her head in disappointment.

He scoffed. “You thought I’d come looking for you? Thought I’d come to kill you? I should have! After what you – and especially what HE put me through! You never cared when I left! You didn’t even try to owl me!” Tears seared hot on his skin. “If you’d known me at all you’d’ve known you were perfectly safe in that house!”

“Well I thought I did know y’better. I thought I’d taught y’better than to join that Muggle-hating cult.” She looked around again, pulling strands of white hair behind her ear. “But go if y’want. I won’t hold you here. Not like a’ever could.”

He hands balled into fists but he didn’t move. Her words stung more than they ever had before. He felt like a disappointment all over again. But she’d wrong. She taught me nothing but hate. I taught myself to fight against it. He breathed out calmly, fixing his composure. “Where’s Da?” For a second he wasn’t sure what to call him, ‘father’ or what he always did as a child. The accent he had now – taught to him by Lucius and other like him, rich and upper class – didn’t allow for the easy pronunciation. They always preferred to say ‘father’.

“Resting.”

He nodded and looked into the hallway. There was an open door with a bit of light shining out. “H… How is he? …I heard him cough.”

“Sick. With something. Doesn’ want t’go see a doctor.” She moved more boxes and stomped the life out of a bundimum, breathing heavy with age. She wiped her soles on the wet carpet and turned to him. “D’you want tea?”

“No.” Severus shook his head and moved more boxes, following the scampering slimes to their nest with his eyes. “They’re in the walls. It must be too crowded. They’re starting to spill out and over take the floors.” He dropped a box over a slime and winced as it splashed onto his trousers. “I’ll be ‘round tomorrow with… Bloody hell, I don’t know. Something. Goodbye.”

She opened the door for him and he gasped for fresh air as he exited the house. He shook his head and walked around the corner and ducked behind some bushes to apparate away.

~ * ~ * ~

He came back the next day with buckets of halophyte powder he’d gotten at discount in the apothecary. He knocked on the door and this time it was his father that had answered. He was hunched over and held pill bottles in his hands. His hair was cut short and a balding spot shone plainly on the crown of his head.

He no longer towered over him with muscles and bulging veins. He looked weak as well, and a little confused to be seeing him. “What’re you doin’? Why’re you here?”

Severus rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, watching his father shuffle out of the way. “Where’s Mam?”

His father wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brows. “Out in ‘er devil garden.” He moved into the kitchen and took down a glass, filling it with tap water.

At least the water looks clean. Severus followed him in, curious to see him so indifferent to his presence. He set down the heavy buckets. “How long has,” – he looked around at the dripping slime oozing from the walls, “… this been going on for?”

His father shrugged, gulping down several thumb nail-sized pills. “Few years?”

Severus gripped the counter. “Years?” He left his father and headed out the back door to the small garden of firethorns that his mother was tending to. “Your house has been infested with bundimums for years?”

She wiped her hands on her patched apron and nodded, looking up at him.

“Why? You’re a witch! You could have taken care of this yourself years ago!” He looked into her eyes and found something about them had changed, or, something in him had. He’d always feared his father, but his mother especially. He feared the possibility that she didn’t love him, or care for him. But in that instant he didn’t see a scared boy reflected in her dark eyes. He saw himself annoyed at her stupidity. She had always been a fool. He just hadn’t realized it before.

He turned on his heels and headed back inside. His father was still in the kitchen, struggling with his pills, trying not to tremble as he carefully tilted the bottle. Severus sighed and gritted his teeth as he reached for the bottle.

“You give that back!” His father gripped Severus’ collar but was too weak to shake him properly.

“Which ones do you need?” was all he said to his father’s act of aggression.

His father let go and made a large circle with his fingers reluctantly. “The big ones.”

Severus tipped the bottle enough to stick a slender finger in and pull out one of the large pills from the back. He handed it to his father and helped him with the glass of water as well and when he was ready to put the lid on the bottle he did that for him also.

Severus picked up the buckets and got to work on the house, pouring it along the walls and into vents. He made holes in the walls and poured the powder inside, hearing the bubbling sizzles of the sludge creatures as they died.

It took two days to get the whole house done, and only an hour to clean out the house with a few spells invented for the very purpose of bundimum messes. On the last day he repaired the holes in the walls with ‘reparo’ when his father wasn’t looking. The house was decent and all they needed to do was air out the place.

He grabbed his coat from their hanger by the door and called out to his parents. “I’ll be passing by weekly. If you need anything send me a letter.” They didn’t respond but he knew they both heard him. He shook his head and rolled his eyes to himself, knowing if they truly didn’t want his presence, they’d’ve done more than just complain under their breaths.

He closed the door and apparated behind the house again.

~ * ~ * ~

He reached the Hogwarts gate and locked it up, glaring at the few students who eyed the gate mischievously. He walked up the lawn and nearly slipped on some mud at the entrance. He steadied himself and looked up to see Minerva at the stairs on her way to dinner.

“How was your visit?”

Severus joined her. “It was… better.” Something deep in his heart mended, and he felt more whole.

Minerva gave him a warm smile and led them to the high table.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Masterlist

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Day 4 Prompt: Swarms + bundimum (green many-eyed sludge-like pest known to infest houses; recognized by a foul smell of decay)

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General Taglist:

@severuslovebot @bionic-otp

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[renee-writer]

A Boy's Gonna Run But, A Real Man's Gonna Stay Chapter 12 Hand Fast

’Hand fast?’’ She looks at him quizzically.

‘’It is a way to commit ourselves to each other. I thought, while your parents are here.’’

‘’I know what it is. It is just, is that the only reason you want to do it?’’

‘’Aye, I know what you are thinking, but I just want to publicly declare myself yours, in the presence of our family.’’

‘’Yes.’’ A breath, ‘’to both. I want to be hand fast to you. Be your wife in the eyes of your ancestors. In the auld ways. And then, I want to be your wife in the biblical sense. I love you Jamie. I trust you. I know you are it. The person I want to be with for the rest of my life. Marry me Jamie and then take me to bed.’’

‘’Oh God.’’ It is a whisper before he crushes her to him and takes her lips in a frantic kiss. ‘’I love you. Go see my mam. She has something for you. I have to get ready.’’

‘’Wait,’’ she clings to his hand, ‘’Do my parents know?’’

‘’Aye, I ask your da's permission.’’

He grins at her and slips off. She goes to find her mother-in- law and mum.

The dress is quite old. Made of soft muslin fabric, it falls to the ground. The bodice has layers build in so no bra is required.

‘’By tradition, nae underthings are worn under it.’’ Ellen explains.

‘’Good. Makes things simpler.’’ Claire declares as she studies herself. Hair tamed in an up do that shows off her face and neck, a necklace of Ellen’s pearls and her ears decorated with the same. She looks the part of a Celtic bride.

‘’Claire Elizabeth!’’

‘’Mum, I've waited. We haven’t other things but not..’’

‘’You are a virgin?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’Good gracious!’’ a shocked Eleven replies.

‘’Wow! When daddy and I told you to wait until marriage, we didn’t expect you to wait until you were 36.’’

‘’I needn’t someone I could fully trust, someone who I knew I would be spending a lifetime with. Someone who wanted more then just that. It took me 36 years to find him,’’ she turns towards Ellen, ‘You raised a good man. You should be very proud of him. When he asked me to be hand fast to him today, he let me decide if it were enough. If it was a real enough marriage to.. If my sons turn out half as good as their da, I will be well pleased.’’

‘’Oh Claire, oh my daughter!’’ They all hug. A few tears are shed and they are ready.

She wasn’t expecting, well, she didn’t know what exactly to expect. But, when she saw Jamie, standing by his da, who will be preforming the ceremony, her knees almost gave out. He stands, staring at her in equal awe, in a kilt, a bloody kilt. With an blazing white shirt, tall boots , and even a ceremonial sword, he is every inch, a Highland warrior. Her daddy takes her hand and walks her over to him. He places her hand over his arm, placing their pulses over each other. Brian hands him a braided rope and he ties them together.

‘’I give you my heart son. Take good care of her.’’ He tells Jamie.

‘’I will. Thank you for trusting her with me.’’

They are surrounded by both their families. Even the children are here, though most are held in the arms of their parents, sound asleep. It is after midnight, after all.

‘’Hand fasting is a way for a couple to be married, committed to each other before coming before a priest, other clergy, or register. It is long been recognized as binding as any other marriage ceremony. Jamie and Claire will be considered married for a year and a day. The cord binding them together, used to include a blood vow. We will just do the vows. Jamie make your vow to Claire. Claire repeat it back to Jamie.

Jamie knows it is English and Gaelic. But, for the sake of his bride and her family, he does just the English.

‘’You are blood of my blood and bone of my bone,

I give you my body, that us two may be one,

I give you my spirit, until our lives be done.’’

She repeats after him as her daddy cries and her mum smiles. Her uncle and John hug each other and smile. His family is equally touched. She sees eyes being wiped, and huge grins.

‘’Kiss her Jamie.’’ He does and she leans hungrily into him. A cheer goes up. Brian unties then and then, in a surprise even to Jamie, presents them with a hand fast certificate to sign. It is a beautiful paper with a space for them to sign. She signs, Claire Fraser, through a film of tears. They are toasted and then finally aloud to head upstairs.

[petriichvrs]

𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒚, 𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐘.

        ❝   you   know   PEACE   like   someone   who   has   survived   a   long   war.   take   it   one   day   at   a   time,   because   everything   has   the   scent   of   another   possible   war   ;    you   know   how   easily   one   can   start,   one   moment   QUIET,   the   next,   blood.   war   colors   your   voice,   warms   it,   even.   𝐍𝐎   𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   𝐀𝐒   𝐓𝐎   𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑   𝐘𝐎𝐔   𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑   𝐎𝐑   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.   no   one   asks.   perhaps   you   were   both.   you   haven’t   kissed   anyone   for   a   while,   now.   to   you,   EVERYTHING   tastes   like    𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅.   ❞ 

         hey,   isn’t   that   GINEVRA   MOLLY   WEASLEY?   i   read   a   daily   prophet   article   on   them,   once   ;   the   twenty   two   year   old   pureblood   WITCH   is   a gryffindor   alumnus   who   has   gone   on   to   be   a   professional   chaser   for   the   holyhead   harpies.   i’ve   heard   they   can   be   quite   RESILIENT   &   INTUITIVE,   but   i   don’t   know...   they   came   off   very   HEADSTRONG   &   WAGGISH   in   that   interview.   it   really   is   hard   to   know   what   to   believe   these   days   though,   isn’t   it?   click   ��𝐄𝐑𝐄   for   statistics,    𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄   for   ginny’s   entire   history   and    𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄   for   her   pinterest.

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

click this link !

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘.

seventh child and only daughter of arthur and molly. first girl born into the weasley fam for GENERATIONS, so that makes her special. had too many brothers. biggest grievance was they never let her play quidditch with them, so she broke into their shed and taught herself. cried every single time they went to hogwarts without her.

eventually got there herself. her first year notoriously SUCKED.

if ‘sucked’ is a good enough word to describe being possessed by tom riddle and opening the chamber of secrets, which ultimately led to a lot of people almost dying, including herself.

this, understandably, royally fucked ginny’s shit up. easily seen by her extra special hysterical reaction to the dementors. didn’t do much in her second yr other than be upset by them on the train and be hermione granger 2.0 ( overachiever extraordinaire ).

fully supported harry potter during his fourth year, when he became the unwitting fourth champion. would have gone to the yule ball with him if she hadn’t pledged herself toneville longbottom, who goes on to become one of her best friends.

got all up in order business in her fourth year, against her parents wishes. you can take the girl from the rebellion but you can’t take the rebellion from the girl. joined dumbledore’s army. also named it. became a royal pain in umbridge’s ass. was super talented at spells ( she’s special ) that they were being taught. had a rough christmas cos her dad almost got killed by voldemort’s ugly snake. hexed draco malfoy and still giggles about it to this day. fought off death eaters in the department of mysteries and was witness to sirius black’s death.

everyone rly wanted a piece of ginny in her fifth year ( understandable ). she got invited to slug club. was also made chaser of the gryffindor quidditch team ( after playing seeker the previous year when harry was banned ). she dated harry for a hot minute after she finally got rid of dean thomas ( srry dean ), but… after dumbledore died and death eaters attacked the school he broke up with her to ‘protect her’ which… sucked.

honestly. summer in general sucked. her bro got attacked by a werewolf. her boyfriend dumped her for her own good. there was a wedding, for some reason.

sixth year also sucked. the da was reformed ( by ginny & her friends ) but could only do so much in the face of the gross misuse of power by grown ass adults. ginny did all that she could even when they were actively torturing them all, but was made go into hiding at easter.

followed her fam to hogwarts for the battle. almost had to sit the whole thing out, but ran off after she was forced to leave the room of requirement.

let’s recap the battle real quick : her brother? died. her friends? died. the love of her life? never even said goodbye and died. ginny? almost died! she did not have a good time. 0/10 stars on yelp, in fact. but they prevailed! they made harry proud! love when you succeed and get ptsd for your troubles.

ginny helped rebuild hogwarts over the summer, and went back in september to finish her seventh year, but… it wasn’t really home anymore. a war will do that. loss will do that. she was trying very hard to be okay - and in a lot of ways, trying a little too hard to be who she had ALWAYS been. she probably could have done with being told that no one expected her to be unchanged, but… everyone was going through their own stuff.

she tried to honor the one’s that they lost by living, but… that was easier on paper. ginny didn’t seem to make it all the way through the five stages of grief. she was angry, and she was sad, but she couldn’t deny it and she couldn’t change it - and acceptance was impossible. her grief turned into a persistent feeling of emptiness, and that took a toll on her, as a person.

a lot that made her happy once didn’t, anymore. she was scouted by the holyhead harpies fresh out of hogwarts, but when they asked her to sign, she didn’t immediately take them up on the offer. quidditch was about the only thing she had left at that point that brought her some measure of joy, and it felt…surreal, to be considering taking such a small pleasure and turning it into her life work. it felt not right, for some reason. doing something so ‘normal’ felt insulting, almost, to all the people who wouldn’t do anything normal again - but she couldn’t do nothing forever, and eventually, she was convinced.

she took the offer. she never looked back. things haven’t really gotten better in all the time since then, but at least they can’t get any worse.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.   triggers for talk of death, scars and trauma.

ginny’s scars tell more stories about her life at hogwarts than she has ever uttered. from her first year, she has marks that she can’t name the cause of. scarring along her thighs and upon her fingertips that were obtained in some of her black outs, that her parents BEGGED madam pomfrey to remove, but who she quietly told to not bother. there’s a small dent on her forehead that she sustained when she collapsed in the chamber of secrets, and you wouldn’t see it, if you weren’t looking. she doesn’t point it out.

of course, she sustained some in her fourth year. she fell over during a dumbledore’s army session and she scraped up the palm of her hand, something that they all laughedabout, back then. she broke her ankle badly enough that it continues to click, even now, but luckily was never a hassle in her chosen career. maybe she’d have been even worse of, if bellatrix had tortured her like planned. ginny counts her blessings.

but it’s her sixth year that ruined her. that instilled within her a LOVE of long sweaters and a fear of being seen entirely naked. ‘blood traitor’ is carved into her right arm from lines she was FORCED to write with her own blood, over and over, after being caught putting graffiti on the side of green house number five. she didn’t cry, to them. she didn’t shed a tear. along her back there are criss cross scars from the CRACK of a whip, so many of them that ginny still closes her eyes when she’s getting into the bathtub, so she doesn’t catch a glimpse in the mirror. she’s been suspended by her ankles, by her wrists, and she has the taut skin there to show for it, and under one instance of the cruciatus curse, she FELL and sustained two wounds most commonly paired together in her thoughts - a scar along her left cheekbone, and a gnarly one upon her knee.

the war scarred her too. scarred her deeper. scarred her truer. she has more now than she can possibly remember that serve as a reminder to the war that they fought, together - and she tries to be proud of them. she really does. but even she finds it difficult.

ginny still keeps a bag packed and ready to go at the drop of a hat under her bed, just in case she has to run. it’s a habit instilled in her by her parents from when they went into hiding, and it’s one that she’s finding almost impossible to break. she still sleeps with her wand underneath her pillow every night, fingers curled around the wood - terrified, always, to be caught without it.

her nightmares vary, but they’re there. sometimes she wakes in a cold sweat, blinking away the MEMORY of green light that came all too close to finishing her off. sometimes, all she can see is the rotting body of her older brother and his open, vacant eyes. sometimes it’s harry, and he’s all alone, and she’s screaming at him - just screaming and crying and begging him to turn around and stop and come back, but he never does. sometimes she’s back in the dungeons of hogwarts, hanging by her ankles, and when she’s shakily sipping coffee in the morning, she can still hear the carrow twins laughter in her ears, clear as day.

she’s suffered from sleep paralysis, too, though this predates the war and began in the weeks after the chamber of secrets. her limbs too heavy to move, the demon that stands over her is tom riddle - her longest and most withstanding nightmare. she’s ashamed of the fact that though she fears she’s forgotten the exact sound of fred’s laugh or the feel of harry’s hand in hers, she’ll never be able to forget the features of sixteen year old voldemort.

ginny can throw off the cruciatus curse, now, and perhaps can even resist imperio. she’s never wanted to TRY, but after the many times it was used upon them in her sixth year.. she believes it possible.

she trained to be an animagus, more out of… boredom, than anything else. she’sregistered as an orange tabby cat, and it’s not uncommon for her to run off in this form in the direction of the lake, where she can sit for hours.

ginny is bloody awful at all of the things her mother tried to teach her. knitting, cooking,general housework. she would sit for HOURS with molly in the lead up to christmas, a pair of knitting needles held awkwardly in both hands, fingers incapable of making the loops and stitches that molly is so skilled at doing, until SHE had all the christmas jumpers done… and ginny only had a rather pathetic excuse of a scarf. similarly, she tried many a time to lend a hand in the kitchen, or memorize the recipe and replicate her mothers famous homemade fudge - almost always creating some sort of inedible goop at the end of it all. she tries, god bless her, but she just doesn’t seem to have the knackthat came so EASILY to molly, and years ago after a particularly disastrous attempt at knitting the weasley family matching jumpers that ended with tears all around, ginny gave up that particular hobby.

she can garden, though. BOY can she garden. neville taught her how to take care of plants she thought were beautiful, and when she moved into her little bedsit, ginny pulled up the entire garden in her allotment - redoing it in her image. she spends hours out there, knee deep in mud, hands covered, and she comes in, sunburnt, smiling, blazing and beautiful. it’s such a simple joy to her, but it is one, nonetheless.

she always had an interest in muggles. ginny idolized her father ( and still, perhaps, does ), and some of her earliest memories were of clambering onto piles of scrap in the burrows yard, just to peek through the little dusty window on arthur’s shed and watch as he tinkered with some new muggle artifact. she was the one who told fred and george about the car, you know - though she never thought even for a MOMENT that they would end up driving it.

she learned the concept of ‘stick and poke’ tattoos from a worn out fiction book she borrowed from hermione, and learned how to replicate them with a good quill, some magical ink and a couple good spells. she gave herself her own one, in fact - the little snitch inside of the crook of her left arm, that isn’t a perfect circle, but still manages to glow BRIGHT when the conditions are perfect for quidditch. she got pretty good at them, too, giving many of her classmates their own magical tattoos as the years went by - though, like many things that brought her joy, she stopped doing them after the battle of hogwarts.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their FATHER / ARTHUR WEASLEY who resembles ANDREW LINCOLN, EWAN MCGREGOR, MADS MIKKELSON, DANIEL CRAIG / ANY FC and should be OLD. applicants do not have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   father of the weasley kids ! muggle loving king ! arthur doesn’t get ENOUGH recognition for being one of the good ones, but he can have it here !)

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their MOTHER / MOLLY WEASLEY who resembles NICOLE KIDMAN, SUSANNA THOMPSON, CHRISTINA HENDRICKS, LENA HEADEY, GILLIAN ANDERSON / ANY FC and should be OLD. applicants do not have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   kickass mother ! the earliest love of my young life ! the strongest woman alive for dealing with her merry band of misfits day in and day out ! pls bring momther.)  

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their NEIGHBOURS / ANY AMT who resemble MENA MASSOUD, ALEX FITZALAN, ZIYI ZHANG, JESSICA ALBA / ANY FC and should be ANY AGE. applicants do not have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   they can be any age ! they can be a canon, if you’d like, or someone entirely original ! ginny lives in a bedsit in london - i imagine somewhere in greenwich and i’m leaning towards charlton - which she purchased outright two years ago, sort of… seeking out her own space, in a sense. she rented an allotment just around the corner where she could grow her own vegetables and flowers and things, and she finds… a great deal of peace simply existing, there. tending to her garden. sipping tea in her bedroom/sitting room/kitchen combo. reading on the roof, probably. i'd actually love if the bedsit was a part of a small little wizarding community in london - so a lot of members of the magical world all living closely together - and i’d love even more if she had a bunch of neighbours, all of whom she could have some varied dynamics with. there could be the one who she always goes to when she needs a sugar topup ! the one who trampled on her tomatoes once in the allotment, and they’re now in all out war ! the one who comes over sometimes and simply sits quietly with ginny, for a while, both of them enjoying each others company so simply ! lots of options. gimme all.)

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their PET SITTER who resemble ANY FC  and should be 20+. applicants do have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   i’d put this as sort of adjacent to the above, but it doesn’t have to be ! they COULD be a fellow neighbour, but they might just be someone ginny as come to know well and trusts to take care of her pygmy puff and owl when she’s away. that’s… a huge position of trust in ginny’s life, because she loves arnold and archimedes more than she loves HERSELF, so ; they’d probably have quite a good dynamic !   )

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their FLINGS who resemble BEN HARDY, AVAN JOGIA, HUNTER SCHAFER, ASHLEY MOORE / ANY FC ! IDC  and should be 21+. applicants do have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   i don’t know whether ‘romantic connections’ is the right place for this , but… o well ! i have the flip side connect down below for characters who ginny has been involved with in the past, but i thought one for present time would be fun ! i like flings, as a concept. i like them for ginny especially, because i think she has a very modern view on them, and doesn’t really… go in to any one night stand or three date relationship or brief fling with… an expectation, or the NEED for it to go beyond what it is for them both at the time. ginny’s quite happy to exist as a single being for the rest of her life. she’s not seeking a long term relationship, nor am i in the mindset right now that she ever will - but she hasn’t become an old maid just because she’s grieving someone she loved, and no one expects it of her. i love the idea of just… characters having casual dates ! characters hooking up for fun, no strings attached ! please let me explore it.   )

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their PERSONAL TRAINER / TRAINING PAL who resemble ANY FC  and should be 20+. applicants do have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   this can be one or the other, i don’t really mind ! and it could be quidditch based or gym based - also, don’t mind ! i think ginny tries to continue finding quidditch fun, even though it’s also her job now, so she probably does a lot of training on her own just as a way to… fly, on her own, outside of a harpies training session. it’d be nice if she had someone to do that with, or finds someone with who she can ! flip side ; now she lives in muggle london, i think she’s started to really get into muggle gyms, so that’s an option too. a good connect to pair that take with would be the one for her neighbours, cause they could walk there and back with one another !   )

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their QUIDDITCH TEAMMATES / HOLYHEAD HARPIES who resembles PRISCILLA QUINTANA, FLORENCE PUGH, HUNTER SCHAFER, ANTONIA THOMAS / ANY FC and should be 20+. applicants do not have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   the holyhead harpies is an all female quidditch team that plays in the britain + ireland league, and ginny has been one of their chasers for almost five years now ! there isn’t much given to them, outside of that and some controversies surrounding their captain - gwenog jones, a past member of the slug club - but i can’t see it any other way than as a team of talented players who have formed a tight knit bond. i’d love to explore the different dynamics they all could have, and the only way to do that is by having ‘em here !)

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their EX / MICHAEL CORNER who resembles SANTIAGO SEGURA, DAVID CASTENEDA, AVAN JOGIA, ALBERTO ROSENDE / ANY FOC and should be 23/24. applicants do not have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   the first boy ginny dated at hogwarts ; the one she dumped because he was being a sore loser about gryffindor beating ravenclaw. honestly ? hilarious. i don’t think that there was love between them at all, and i’d love to see them have become quite good friends, since - give me two people who were figuring out relationships and what that meant when they were together, who fell apart and then came back together when they realized they could be good friends ! that’s a story i’m interested in hearing. )

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their EX / DEAN THOMAS who resembles LUCIEN LAVISCOUNT, KEITH POWERS, REECE KING, JOHN BOYEGA/ ANY BLACK FC and should be 23/24. applicants do not have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   the one who got away ! sort of. you know. i think dean got it rough, to b honest with you. he came along at a point in ginny’s life when she had just started to feel she was breaking away from her brothers, a bit, and becoming a bit more miss independent - and she was also absolutely not oblivious to the fact that harry seemed a lot more interested in her than usual. things with dean and ginny went well for a while, but they weren’t what each other needed at the point of their lives that they were at, and that led to arguments between the two of them - a lot. eventually they broke up, and for a long while, couldn’t even be in the same room as one another. it was definitely the awk breakup that made everyone else feel awk, but i’d hope that after the war and in these past six years, they might’ve reached a point of being able to get along !   )

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their EXES / ???who resemble ABSOLUTELY ANY FC and should be 22 - 24. applicants do have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   you know what ? try and convince me that there weren’t more teenage flings. of course there were ; because ginny was encouraged to find things out for herself, and was NOT raised to be find casual dating shameful in any sense of the words. ginny worked out that she was bi in school, and i actually like to imagine that it was through short lived flings with fellow students who were doing exactly what she was - figuring themselves out. they would have been pretty young and it was all mostly innocent, but i’m interested in the thought !)

GINNY WEASLEY ( jessica barden ) is looking for their SUPPORT GROUP PALS who resemble ABSOLUTELY ANY FC and should be ANY AGE. applicants do not have to contact RACHEL to talk over the details before applying.   (   look me in the eye and tell me there aren’t a whole bunch of support groups running to this day, dedicated to the witches and wizards and wixs who fought in either of the major wizarding wars. ginny probably attends one that’s london based, and was probably heavily encouraged to go. she’s not against therapy or even ‘support’, but… she is the sort of person who finds it a nice thing to think about, but not something that feels as if it’s doing her much good. she holds on to a lot, and that makes it difficult for her to really take from the group what she should be, but she’s still going ! she might hate some of the people at it. she might grab coffee with someone after, every time, religiously. maybe she just always saves your character a seat or vice versa. we can discuss ! )   [ heather pettigrew + more ]

[spiteweaver]

previous | next

The group Dreamweaver had gathered in their den appeared ragtag at a glance, but Jorah knew that each had been carefully selected. If what he had just revealed to them was true, then a crisis was almost surely brewing. What had been said could not leave this room, not until they had some semblance of a plan.

As always, Banrai stood at his mate’s side, the twins squirming in his arms. They were excited to see so many beloved and familiar faces in one place. Morpheus reached out for Rue, who they had become fascinated with in recent weeks, while Phobetor held staunchly to Phantasos’ pinky finger.

Solaire and Hollyhock loitered by the mantle. It was rare for Hollyhock to be called away from his duties, but he was Solaire’s mate, and, therefore, equally responsible for leading the clan should tragedy befall its founders or their heir. Still, he looked out of place among grim and hardened veterans, doe-eyed and soft-spoken as he was.

Crucis and Betelgeuse had been summoned for their expertise in magic. Betelgeuse was the clan’s head witch, and although the Arcane arts were not his forte, his unusual connection to the stars granted him a strange wisdom. More importantly, he could keep a secret better than any of them--and ensure that Crucis followed suit.

As a practitioner of the medical sciences, Isaiah felt he did not belong. Then again, he rarely did, and would have much rather been left to his work at the hospital. When Jorah told of Junior’s affliction, however, he sobered considerably. At the very least, Junior’s head would need stitching.

Abaddon’s presence required no explanation.

Predictably, Dreamweaver was the first to speak. “You’re certain?” they asked.

“Yes,” Jorah replied. “He said I was Light-aligned. Da knows I have no alignment--or, if I do, no one’s figured it out.”

“Could be a type of fugue state,” Isaiah suggested. “It would explain the erratic behavior, the aimless wandering, and especially the lapses in memory.”

“Then why did he remember so much else?”

“That...” Isaiah pinched his chin between his thumb and knuckle. “I don’t know,” he conceded. “Magic’s beyond me, but it sounds like a fugue state. I suppose the magical equivalent would be a trance.”

“Or a possession,” Betelgeuse added darkly.

“Exactly,” Jorah said. “It didn’t feel like da talking to me.”

“I do not mean to cause alarm,” Betelgeuse went on, “but possessions are most commonly inflicted by necromancers.”

“Atsushi’s master is gone,” Phantasos reminded, “and with it any motivation he would have to harm the clan. He paid for his crimes in blood and sweat; dede saw to that. Let’s not accuse the poor guy because it’s convenient, especially when he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“I’m not accusing,” Betelgeuse assured, “merely stating what is known.”

“Betelgeuse has a point,” Crucis said. “Do we know of any other necromancers in the territories?”

“It may not be the work of a necromancer,” Rue pointed out.

“No,” Betelgeuse agreed, “it is merely likely. There are other explanations, though I shudder to entertain them. Junior is powerful. What he lacks in emotional fortitude, he makes up for in resilience and raw magical talent. To posses him, it would take either a very skilled necromancer, perhaps even a lich, or...”

“Or?” Phantasos pressed.

Betelgeuse shifted uneasily under the group’s scrutiny. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he concluded, “A divine being.”

“Which of the Eleven would betray dragonkind so heinously?!” Solaire exclaimed. “The Arcanist and the Lightweaver have never been on the best of terms, but this--this would be a declaration of war, and against the Lightweaver’s most devout no less!”

“You’re right,” Crucis said, “it’s not something He’d do.”

“Jorah...” Dreamweaver leaned forward in their seat, and took Jorah’s hands in theirs. He hadn’t realized he’d been trembling. “What did you feel?” they asked. “You are not close to him, but you do know Atsushi; did you sense his magic, catch his scent? Were there any signs of him on Junior?”

“No,” Jorah said confidently. “I don’t think Atsushi had anything to do with this.”

Dreamweaver nodded, their expression impassive. In the corner of the room, Abaddon grit his teeth. “The Arcanist,” he growled, “I’ll tear His precious Observatory apart piece by piece.”

“Let’s not be hasty,” Hollyhock said, “let’s all take a moment to collect our thoughts. The last thing we need is a rash decision gone awry.”

“My son is out there,” Abaddon spat, the venom in his tone making Hollyhock shy away behind his mate, “stumbling around in the wilderness, dying, and it’s the work of the same son of a bitch who took Fragment and Sliver from me. I’m going to find him, and then I’m going to rip the Arcanist limb from limb for daring to lay a single spindly finger on him.”

“No one is going anywhere,” Dreamweaver said, “until we know what we’re up against.”

“Junior is my son,” Abaddon reiterated. “You and Banrai both nearly threw yourselves into an active colony of Seat-corrupted pink celestine for yours.”

“And you stopped us from doing so.”

“I should have stayed with him,” Jorah mumbled. “It’s my fault, aba.”

Abaddon’s fierce expression softened. He moved swiftly to his grandson’s side, and pulled him into a crushing embrace. The assembly heaved a collective sigh; thank the gods for a grandfather’s tender heart. “It isn’t your fault,” Abaddon said. “You did the right thing, coming to Dreamweaver. There was nothing you could have done for him.”

“I could have made him come back.”

“Doubtful,” Crucis said. “He’s not himself, Jorah. He would have killed you if you’d pushed him hard enough--or, rather, whoever’s inhabiting him would have used him to kill you.”

“But he’s alone,” Jorah persisted, “and hurt.”

“We’ll find him,” Abaddon said, “and we’ll make sure he’s taken care of. If he’s being possessed, then it’s for a reason. He can’t carry out his mission if he’s dead.” He could not muster a smile, but he tilted Jorah’s chin up to catch his gaze regardless. “I’m sorry I overreacted,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“It’s ok,” Jorah said, “you’re just worried.”

“We all are,” said Hollyhock.

“I know.” Abaddon rubbed at the crook between his neck and shoulders, exhaling a slow, weary breath. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Hollyhock. I think I’m finally starting to feel my age. I know you care as much as I do.”

“Of course,” Hollyhock said. “There isn’t a dragon in Feldspar who wouldn’t move mountains for you and your family, Abaddon. You’re not alone in this.”

“Junior’s faced worse,” Solaire asserted. “The lad’s a stauncher drake than I, and that’s saying quite a--”

They each felt the magic before its effects, a wave of raw Arcane energy emanating from the city center. Dreamweaver leapt to their feet just as Solaire and Crucis collapsed. “Take the twins,” they said to Banrai, “take them upstairs.”

“What about you?” Banrai asked.

“I’ll take care of them, da,” Phantasos said.

“No,” said Dreamweaver, “I need you to find your brothers. Tell them to get to safety, then fly to Aphaster as fast as your wings will carry you. That was Arcane magic. It can only be connected to Junior.”

“But--”

“Do as your progenitor says,” Crucis said. He was sagged against Dreamweaver’s now vacant seat, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clutching his head. “I pray to the Eleven they were unaffected. Lutia is bonded to the Seat, and--agh! They need to be warned!”

“I’ll go with him,” Rue offered. “Mother may have some insight.”

“Quickly,” Dreamweaver urged, and, sharing a solemn glance, the two were off, shedding their glamours with sparks of golden magic. The sounds of their wingbeats were joined quickly by Ozymandias’. “Betelgeuse,” Dreamweaver continued, “gather the clan’s witches. Abaddon, Isaiah, Jorah, Hollyhock, you’re with me. We must tend to Solaire and Crucis.”

“No,” Crucis gasped. “Get away. Get away from us.”

“Solaire...” Hollyhock knelt beside his mate, who had begun to beat on the sides of his head. “Solaire, please,” he whispered, “get up. I--I must have something in my garden that will help you.”

“Hollyhock,” Crucis cried, “get away from--!”

Solaire stilled. His knuckles were bloody where he had beaten gashes into his scalp, and bruised from the force of his strikes. Hollyhock took the nearest in his own hands, running his thumbs gingerly across the cuts. He was too distracted, too distraught, to catch the quiet sound of his husband’s free hand moving downward to draw the dagger from its sheath at his hip. It withdrew with a hiss...

...and Solaire buried it to the hilt in Hollyhock’s stomach.

@sophiellum-fr @serthis-archivist @airris-fr @reanimatedfr @jollyroger-fr @megane-pigeon

[merrylittlehogwartsrp]

Happy Holidays, Taylor! We are thrilled to “invite” Ginny Weasley (fc Luca Hollestelle) back to Hogsmeade for a little forced Winter Cheer. We particularly liked the references to Tom Riddle’s past possession and are looking forward that nuance in game. You requested change has been approved and will be included in Ginny’s updated bio (to be posted shortly).

Please pack your bags and send in your tumblr. Additional information can be found here!

OOC DETAILS:

NICKNAME: Taylor

AGE (must be 18+): 27

PRONOUNS: She/Her

ACTIVITY ESTIMATE: Moderate - full time job, holidays - but I have a week off for Christmas coming up soon :)

CHARACTER DETAILS:

FULL NAME & NICKNAMES: Ginevra “Ginny” Molly Weasley. Some of her friends call her Gin.

BIRTHDATE: August 11th, 1981

BLOOD-STATUS: Pureblood

* GENDER IDENTITY: Cisgender Female

* GENDER PRESENTATION/PRONOUNS: She/Her

* SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Ginny’s sexuality is bisexual.

CHARACTER SITUATION:

OCCUPATION: Chaser for the Hollyhead Harpies

HOUSING: Hollyhead Harpies housing - not every teammate lives together, but a bunch of the single women stay in a team owned house - much like a sorority.

SOCIAL STANDING: Born a pureblood, poor upbringing, but now that she’s rather famous she’s making a good income and helps out her parents and other family members should they need it.  

CHARACTER CONFIGURATION:

TALENTS/WEAKNESSES -

Talent: Quidditch & Athletics, Hexes, Impressions

Weakness: Potions, Sleep Paralysis (she’s been getting it since the Diary), Focus on anything she’s not committed too (her grades in 6th and 7th year are absolutely wretched - she’s lucky she graduated)

STRENGTHS/FLAWS - two or three of each (personality not skills!)

Strengths: Loyal, Protective, Hardworking, Accepting, Patient with certain people, Funny

Flaws: Obsessive, Can shutdown to protect herself emotionally, Grudge holder, Hot-headed with certain people, Judgemental to non-misfits (Fleur, Cho, Slytherins, anyone she thinks might have it a bit too easy she’s a bit harder on)

CHARACTER HISTORY: please write one short paragraph for each. (I’m so sorry. What is short?

FAMILY BACKGROUND

Growing up, Ginny’s life was ordinary. Well as ordinary as it could be for a lower-income wizarding family of nine, in which she was only special because of her gender. It was a novelty, being the only girl in a gaggle of vivid ginger boys, whom all had a booming personality that internally struggled to shine amongst each other. That being said, Ginny’s childhood was happy. Loving parents who had come out of the first war with themselves intact and enough love to go around their large lot. One by one, all of Ginny’s brothers turned of age to attend school, making the months between September and May lonelier, until it was only her and Ron. It was due to this that she had grown a kinship with the boy who was only a year older. Mud puddles and pretend, debating whether the Harpies or the Cannons were the superior team (obviously the Harpies!). That is until Ron turned eleven and everything changed. Harry Potter returned to the wizarding world, and invaded their lives as Ron Weasley’s best mate.

It was safe to say that Ginny was immediately infatuated. The first celebrity she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting with just a simple smile at King’s Cross, followed by a lonely year alone. It was spent mostly using the Bill’s old broom he’d left behind in the shed to practice quidditch and counting down the days until she was at Hogwarts with her brothers, making friends, and chatting with the Boy Who Lived.

Except that wasn’t what happened. Ron had moved on, found a kinship with Harry and Hermione that didn’t have room for her, and instead she was left to figure it out on her own. But she wasn’t alone. No, she had found a friend in a book, only a week before school and he had twisted it’s grip into her heart and fed on all of her insecurities. Isolating her from those that were her age, with every heartfelt secret she gave him, the more pull Tom Riddle had until he was finally controlling her completely. It was truly terrifying. Missing moments, blood on her hands, her peers turning up petrified as a villain whispered in her ear. How was it that someone could tear a person apart while still making them feel like he was the only one that understood or cared? A master manipulator, it took her months before Ginny tried to get rid of the diary. At first she suspected she was going mad, but it had fallen into Harry’s possession and in her first act of Gryffindor bravery, she had to steal it back.

But regaining the diary simply gave Tom her power again, allowing him to use her as a pawn to draw the “Boy Who Supposedly Destroyed Voldemort” into the Chamber. It was her life-force that almost brought Tom Riddle back into his youth, but when she awoke she was free. Free to confess to Harry what had been going on for all those months, and it was with him she returned from the chamber.

After Tom, she was left to pick up the pieces. Over the years she found a friend in Hermione, who urged her to be herself. In Neville, who accompanied her to the Yule Ball just so she could take part, and in Luna, who was intuitive and open-minded. She dated people who saw her as more than just another Weasley and killed it on the quidditch pitch after all those years practicing alone. Dark times arrived, Ginny stepped up, becoming one of the original members of Dumbledore’s Army and even helping to suggest it’s infamous name. Rebellion is in her blood after all, and when Harry, Ron and Hermione planned to flee for the Ministry in order to save Sirius, she fought to follow along.

It was as if she was finally being seen. Not only by her family and peers, but after that by Harry as well. She could feel his gaze when she entered a room, heard it in his laugh that his heart was a little lighter when they smiled about the same stupid thing. She knew that that she didn’t know everything, and that peace wouldn’t last, but when he caught her in his arms that day in the common room and kissed her in front of everyone Ginny felt like she might explode with happiness. Finally she was out of her shell, absolutely vibrant and it had gotten her what she wanted all those years ago.

And yet their relationship was short lived, not because they didn’t want one another, but because duty called. Dumbledore left Harry a nearly impossible mission and the world fully knew the danger that was about to embark. Her eldest brother’s wedding proved that, as chaos reigned on Bill and Fleur’s guests. Another reminder that they were at war, as Ron and his friends left without a word. Ginny left to pick up the pieces once again.

LIFE DURING THE WAR

Ginny held her own during the war. Returning to school with Neville and Luna, they started up Dumbledore’s Army and housed students who needed safe-keeping in the Room of Requirements. She was headstrong and defiant, breaking rules and refusing to hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. This caused a lot of problems.Sometimes only for Ginny, or the other DA leaders, who would take the punishment tenfold knowing that no one would follow someone who had cursed them earlier that day. Sometimes for the student that they were told to torture, who would then have their caster replaced by someone much more malicious. Someone who wouldn’t dare take it as easy on them as another DA member.

It’s Ginny who remembers the Sword of Gryffindor though. Remembers Harry killing the Basalisk with it, the first “Fuck you” to Tom she could associate anything with. It ended up with Snape finding them, not knowing what to do except hurt them (though less so then the Cruciatus) and send them off to detention for the next unknowable future. Except it’s Hagrid she’s with, and at least she’s out of the castle. Anything is better than the castle.

When Luna gets ripped from her arms by Death Eaters though she thinks it might be over. Her and Neville end up crying alone when no one else is looking and she feels like her whole body is being ripped apart. Her best friend! How could this happen?!

Eventually the Weasley name is too much danger though, her association as Harry Potter’s love interest - even after the break up - forces her into hiding and Neville’s left on his own, though he insists. She hugs him goodbye so tightly she’s forced away from him by her father and off to a safehouse they go, only to return for the battle of Hogwarts at the end of the school year.

LAST THREE YEARS

She lost a brother in that battle. Lost so many friends. The whole summer is funerals and mourning, and she hates how much her mother cries. She’s almost relieved to go back to school and nurse her heartache away from her family, away from Harry whom never really comes back to her. And yet with the castle rebuilt and the Death Eater’s gone, nothing is right. She barely goes to class (which has Hermione a tizzy) and spends almost all of her time on the Quidditch pitch - a golden Captain’s pin on her robes. She gets good. Really bloody good, better than anyone else in school. It’s the only way she gets to sleep at night, exhausted from running drills and practicing til her pale body is littered with dark bruises and her muscles are sore. She likes the ache though, the fact that it’s self-inflicted instead of being given to her as punishment.

She gets recruited at the end of the year by the Hollyhead Harpies, and after graduation she moves from the Burrow to the Harpy House with the other girls. It’s her first time in a sisterhood, her first time surrounded by women who understand her, the first time she’s seen as really fucking good at something and she loves it. Loves the distraction. Loves the whirlwind nature of the job, loves the fact that she can send money back to her parents so they can live comfortably (even with one less son). Loves the fact that she has her own room, and when she wakes up at night unable to move there’s no one there to judge her, no one there to notice that Tom looks at her from the corner of the shadows. Loves the fact that it’s nowhere near Hogwarts at all.  

HOLIDAY DETAILS:

Just dinner with the family, opening presents to reveal her mother’s homemade knitted sweaters, and listening to Celestina Warbeck warble through the Burrow. Her family isn’t religious, but they celebrate Christmas every year as an opportunity to spend time together. While Ginny doesn’t go home as often as she should these days, she never misses a holiday - she couldn’t do that to her mum. It’s been a bit odd ever since Fred passed, but it seems they’re getting somewhat used to it. Minus George… they’re all pretty sure George won’t ever get used to a Christmas without his twin.

OOC SUPPLEMENT:

SHIPS: I’m a total sucker for Hinny, but up for anything really.

CHANGES: Ginny doesn’t torture anyone while in school. She’s more likely to defy orders from the Death Eaters in school and make everything worse, or take the punishment herself. I firmly believe that her, Neville and Luna doesn’t harm any of the DA due to believing that no one would follow them if they did. Their purpose in Hogwarts was to try and be a safe space and protector, as well as mess things up for the Death Eaters. I think, while sometimes it would be the logical choice to just do it and go easy on the other students, the proud Gryffindor in Ginny would flat out refuse no matter the consequences.

FACECLAIM: Luca Hollestelle or Rose Leslie

[flickdirect]

Once upon a time, there was a two-time Oscar award winning actor who not only was an actor but a director as well. This Actor/Director was also very big into trying to change the world through activism roles, not only in films but also in real life. This Director - let's just for the sake of putting a name in place call him Sean. So Sean decided he wanted to shine a light on the horrors of West Africa and decided to tell the story through a romance. Sound almost as crazy as starting a review with Once upon a time? That's because it is!

Out this week is the new flick directed by Sean Penn (Into The Wild) The Last Face which stars Charlize Theron & Javier Bardem. The only way to explain this film is it's a romantic tragedy. Basically the story revolves around Wren (played by Academy Award Winner Charlize Theron from Monster, Mad Max: Fury Road and most recently Atomic Blonde), who is the Director of Doctors of the World and her romance with Dr. Love (Played by Academy Award Winner Javier Bardem from No Country for Old Men and most recently Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales). Wren meets Dr. Love in 2003 in West Africa where he is a dedicated physician trying to help the impoverished people in war torn towns. She, of course, falls hard and as all relationships go, there are difficulties!

Now the plot of this story is pretty weak. While the romance is supposed to be the center of the story and the thread that winds you through to the end, it clearly isn't what is most important. The true focus of The Last Face is the war torn areas of Africa and the horrifying things they have to deal with on a daily basis. Knowing full well the atrocities of what's going on in Africa, Sean Penn pushes it so hard into the forefront of the story that it obliterates the romance completely, and not in a good way. I know what he was trying to do. He was trying to show just how bad things are in these areas of Africa and how there is much work to be done. But the problem is, while there are violence and suffering, it's mainly about random people that we have no back story for. In fact, the film keeps shifting from these tragic events to and even sadder romance as if that's supposed to lighten the mood. I always look at a film as a storytelling medium. If you don't make people invested in characters before they die a tragic death, don't expect tears to be shed. Don't get me wrong! We all know there is suffering going on in the world. In real life, you shouldn't have to know someone's life story to be sad hearing they died tragically but if you want that kind of impact DON'T intertwine it with a romance. Just go balls out and make a hard-hitting documentary.

Also, I would love to talk about another issue I have with this film, and much more that seem to be coming in at a fast and furious pace (see what I did there). Editing timelines that jump all over! Note - some stories you can actually tell straight forward and keep our attention!! The Last Face starts at the end and goes back in time but from there it jumps forward and backward at will and at times it's quite hard to tell if it's the present or 10 years back. If you are spending time trying to figure out where in the story timeline you are, you're wasting energy and not getting emotionally connected. In a world where Hollywood is dictating the world's attention span, it would be refreshing to actually see a story play out in chronological order already.

While most of "The Last Face" seemed incredibly frustrating, and at times just so damn dark, there were moments of fantastic acting by all involved. Charlize Theron lays down an amazing performance with a character that just gets pushed over into hopelessness. Javier Bardem also puts in an Oscar-worthy performance as a doctor who's always risking his life to save others to the detriment of his own life.

Along with Theron and Bardem, the cast also includes Jean Reno (The Professional, The Da Vinci Code) and Jared Harris (Mad Men, The Expanse), who both play doctors as well, and it was nice to see Merritt Wever (Nurse Jackie) playing Wren's assistant

The thing that upsets me the most about "The Last Face" is that I know all those who worked on this project had the best intentions in doing it. Theron, being from South Africa herself, and Penn have both been activists trying to make a change not only in Africa but all around the world. I think the intentions were right but the main storyline and editing just killed it. The Blu-ray is presented in 1080p AVC with a transfer that looks amazing. The picture is sharp and clean, and colors are spot on. The audio, presented in DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1, unfortunately, does not fare as well as the video. Most of the times the dialog is drowned out by the special effects and the overpowering soundtrack by Hans Zimmer (The Dark Knight). Aside from the film itself, The Last Face also contains a Digital HD copy of the film and a ten-minute featurette entitled, Picturing THE LAST FACE, which showcases real life events horrific events in Africa that contributed to the creation of this film.

"The Last Face" is dark, bloody and in your face, the worst of what's going wrong in Africa, with a romance (out of place) on the side. It had potential with impactful imagery and great performances, but not enough to save face!

Grace: C-

About Sean Ferguson Sean's background in advertising, and love of the cinema brought Sean to reviewing films and interviewing the people behind the scenes involved in bringing this art form to life. His goal, to promote the best Hollywood has to offer!

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