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ryoceann · 3 years

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Hi. Itk here. Believe me, don't, doesn't matter. Thought I'd drop (after you summoned ha) by given the chaos and try to enlighten the ones who choose to believe me, as much as I'm capable of.

The first thing I wanna say is: stop trying to figure out their relationship. You most likely never will. Fans are stuck on both extremes, when the actuality of it is far more in the middle (perhaps even up or down and all around ha). It's complex and strange and not at all "normal" (as normal as they could be, anyways).

It's not as simple as "oh they're just a closeted couple who engage in bearding and have kids and behind closed doors they're just a regular, old married couple and a big, happy rainbow family".

Doesn't sound like itk info, believe me, I get that but observing the fandom I'd say it almost is because most fans simply hang on extreme simplistic ideas of what their relationship is.

Second thing I'd like to say and unfortunately seems like it's not at all obvious but: do not believe anything they share publicly. Not saying they're lying compulsively, but they are public figures and they have a lot at stake to just casually drop the actual truth of any given situation.

Just don't. The same salt you have regarding itks, have towards them. It'd do you some good...Believe me. Unless you are involved in the entertainment or political life, you cannot even begin to fathom what it's really like, the level of manipulation, falsehood and well, overall deviation of it. It's quite disturbing tbh. So just always take whatever's said and shown with a good amount of salt. With public people hardly anything is accidental or casual.

I think the most prominent question now is...Why? Why would they do something like that? Regardless if you have the ingenuity to believe the little scene they made or not...Still, the question lingers.

With my level of "in the knowness" I cannot for sure say the real reason, yet from the pieces I've collected so far, seems to be a multiple gain scheme. It was a high risk, they were well aware, and it paid out in the way they were expecting, minus small bumps here and there. But overall it seemed to have worked in their favor. How in the hell, one would ask?

Believe me, I used my best sneaky capabilities to find out exactly why but they were smart enough to keep this one locked tight, minus a few loose lips. And from those all I've heard was that "whatever the purpose was, it worked out".

As weird as it may sound to the innocent mind, it's actually not at all, given that even leaked nudes are not at all leaked or accidental, and those tend to (at least in the past) get immense amount of backlash. It's not the first time famous folks fake a fight, surely won't be the last.

A lot goes into public image, it's not black and white as "well but it looked bad on Jensen", "it looked bad on the prequel", etc. You'd be surprised as how little this truly matters given the level of manipulation they are able to pull on the public. And well, even with them...It happens all the time. Both made mistakes far worse than just "not telling my bestie about my new project" and fans would eventually let that go and put them back on the pedestal.

So just remember, always: not in the industry? then don't judge anything because you simply do not understand how it works.

Another piece of itk information I can give besides "this was planned and it worked" is: they are fine. From what I've heard they are not fighting over it or going through anything more dramatic than what they usually have been going through ever since they met haha.

So just sit back and chill out. Breathe, read fanfiction and remember that we will never truly get answers, because even what comes out of their mouths are most of the time carefully thought out and directed to have a specific meaning and effect (why do you think Jared mumbles and rambles so much?).

Another interesting piece of itk: you know how they always say they never fight? Even though that sounds insanely hard to believe even if they were just friends because who knows someone for that long and is constantly together and never fights? Unlikely, right? Yes, as obvious as that was. But unfortunately a lot of you seem to believe that, given the level of shock you had for this little twitter feud (as fake as it was). Yeah. They fight. A lot.

They fight as much as individuals in their situation would. Like I said, not at all what most people absentmindedly seem to think it is. They go through a lot. Way more than anyone who isn't in a similar situation would understand. It's messy, although they try their best to make it simpler in the ways they can.

On top of being in a very complex situation, they both have strong personalities and one of them is quite hard to "pin down". So altercations happen a lot, but they know how to deal, and they are exceptionally good at making sure that doesn't interfere in their work (oh well, at least not any work that doesn't benefit from intense emotional exchanges, anyways 😉...chemistry isn't something random, you know? haha).

I find it quite...interesting (to put it nicely) that a lot of hats easily believe they are a couple that lies constantly about almost every aspect of their lives, yet, they cannot believe they would fake a social media narrative. It makes no sense whatsoever.

It'd do you all good to be a little less tendentious and look at them as, you know...Humans? They are not what they seem to be, just as you guys also take in different versions of yourselves in different situations, they do too. And don't be so hopelessly naive to actually believe they see fans as "hashtag family". This is their work. And as grateful as they are for supporters, they certainly do not consider them family. To the point of never lying and trusting you with their life.

I'm sure they love their fans, but come on, saying they would never lie because that's mean to fans is just beyond naive. They've been doing it all along and oh, another interesting info? They don't think they're doing anything wrong.

Yeah, sounds weird, you'd think they'd feel guilty. But again, unless you were media trained, you'd never get it.

From years now if there's one consistent info I've gotten was this: they don't feel obligated to tell you anything. They believe they are doing "what they are supposed to do, the right thing for everyone involved".

So. Yeah. And hell, they are right about not being obligated to say anything about anything, I guess.

Well, I hope that was helpful or at least entertaining. It's hard to share info without accidentally making it obvious who I am for the lurkers (sure you guys were well aware that they lurk around the fandom). But it's safe because as long as I don't provide evidence, I'm fine. Just walking a thin line between sharing and not sharing something too specific that would be easy fir them to know who has that info and although they can't do anything against itks, they can manage to cut us off somehow and I enjoy having access lol, so that'd be a bummer.

Anyways, take itks and J2 themselves with a ton of salt haha! You are lovely, btw, you seem very kind and I enjoy your blog very much! much love!

itk anon everything you said was <333 and i agree with like almost all of it. very nice analysis and ask thank you ! i don't always believe everything j2 put out but the whole stunt being a false narrative just seems wrong so idk what to make of it. regardless i myself can sometimes get carried away in my star-struck love of j2. and i am a tinhat so well :) and now they look to be really good and taking a break from here was well worth it <3

''You are lovely, btw, you seem very kind and I enjoy your blog very much! much love!'' i love u so much hope u have a great day !

#anon ask #this was long jfc #ily anon <3 #j2 tinhat #prequel gate

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mfingenius · 4 years

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Heyy!! You're posts have been motivating me through this quarantine. Thank you for writing so much and spreading joy. I loved the Dreville and Laurent/Nik fic you wrote recently. A prompt i was thinking of: Like what if soon after their parents die ( Laurent is 14 and August 19), August gets into a lot of partying etc, at college, and kind of pushes away Laurent when he asks to visit, only to find out later that during that period the regent abused him. Lamen optional Thank you so much !! :)

Ahhhh thank you so much <333 I’m very glad I’m helping at least a little... I hope you’ll like this :D

TW: MENTIONS OF CSA

-------------------------------

Auguste finds out when it’s in the news.

He wakes up, same as always, hating everything and with a pounding headache; he doesn’t remember the name of the girl in his bed, and he doesn’t care, either. He’ll kick her out as soon as she wakes up.

He goes to the kitchen, searching for some painkillers; he swallows them down with tequila - a bad idea, he knows, but he doesn’t think he has any water left - and sits on the kitchen table with a groan. It’s barely seven - he never sleeps for more than a few hours at a time - and he enjoys the quiet of it.

His apartment’s a mess, but he doesn’t particularly care; he’ll call a service to clean it up later, and it’ll be trashed tonight again, and he’ll have maids coming in tomorrow, again. It’s become a routine.

He’s seriously considering going back to sleep with his forehead against the kitchen table when his phone begins to ring. He groans, jerking upright and beginning to look for it among the clothes thrown over the kitchen floor. When he finally finds it, he checks the name on the screen to make sure it’s not Laurent, feeling a pang of guilt as he does it; it’s not that he doesn’t want to see or talk to his brother, it’s just been - hard.

Their parents died three years ago, when Laurent was eleven and Auguste was seventeen, and they were both sent to live with their uncle; Auguste had left just a few months after that, after getting into college on a football scholarship - not that he needed it, since his parents left their entire fortune to him and Laurent and he’s currently wasting it away in parties and anything that makes him feel good for three minutes - and Laurent is... different now.

He’d wanted to visit Auguste a lot, at first, seeming desperate to get away, but Auguste had brushed him off whenever he could; he didn’t want Laurent to see what a mess he was. After a while, Laurent had stopped asking to visit, but he still calls. Auguste picks up sometimes, and though he usually ends the call as soon as he can, he is trying.

He knows he’s not doing very well, which is why he’s immensely relieved when it’s only Jord; he’s one of Auguste’s best friends from Arles, before Auguste moved to Delpha to go to college, but they haven’t talked since Jord called him an irresponsible dick for getting drunk every day for three months after his parents died.

“Jord?” he asks, picking up. It must be important if Jord is calling him; he’s never apologized, and Auguste hasn’t either.

“Turn on your fucking TV,” Jord snaps. “The news.”

“Which channel?” Auguste asks tiredly, walking to the living room and searching for the remote. It has to be here somewhere...

“Any fucking channel, Auguste!” He hasn’t heard Jord sound this angry... well, ever.

He gives up on searching for the remote, instead clicking the button to turn the TV on and stepping back to see the screen properly. It’s already on a news channel, and Auguste is about to ask why Jord has decided to call him at seven in the morning to tell him to turn on the news when he catches the headline.

Laurent DeVere, second son to billionaire DeVere family, taken away from his uncle because of alleged child sexual abuse

Auguste stops breathing.

“Get on a plane,” Jord snaps. “Now.”

Auguste is booking a plane ticket on his laptop before Jord has even finished the sentence.

The plane ride to Arles is only an hour and a half; he’s back at his Uncle’s house before ten, swallowing and knocking on the door. He’d scoured the news obsessively while on the plane. It seems no one knows who tipped off the police, but that they’d gone to their Uncle’s house to question him and seen it, seen him - doing things to Laurent; Auguste can’t think about it.

He already threw up twice.

The reporter had said their uncle had been arrested immediately, and now Laurent was awaiting for a word on what would happen; Auguste doesn’t want to think about his brother, sitting there all alone, just waiting.

The door opens, and he expects to see Laurent, but it’s not; there are three men in police uniforms there, and behind them, Auguste can see many more; the house had been swarmed by reporters, yelling and taking pictures, so Auguste had had to sneak in through the back of the iron-wrought fence, an old spot he’d quickly learned of after he’d begun sneaking off to parties at night.

His uncle might’ve known, and simply not stopped him because it was convenient for him.

Auguste nearly retches again.

“I’m Auguste DeVere,” he says. “I’m here to see my brother.”

“No one is allowed in or out,” one of the officers tells him. “You have to get off the property.”

“He’s my brother,” Auguste snaps. “And he’s fifteen. I’m here to see him.”

“You’re the brother, then.” Behind the officers, steps up a woman; she has olive skin and long, wavy brown hair. “I’ll take care of him.”

The officers leave, and Auguste tries not to sound too impatient when he says, “Yes. And who are you?”

The woman smiles grimly. “My name is Kashel. I’m your brother’s social worker. We’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

Auguste had forgotten his phone in the apartment after kicking the girl he’d slept with out. He grimaces.

“Social worker?” he asks. “Why does Laurent need a social worker?”

Kashel looks at him like she’s not entirely sure if he’s dumb.

“Well,” she says, careful. “Seeing as your brother’s fifteen and his current guardian is awaiting trial for child abuse, we need to find him another one for the time being, and then someone permanent.”

“I am,” Auguste says, without hesitation. “I will be. His guardian.”

“Mr. DeVere, we don’t give children to anyone-”

“I’m his brother!”

“You smell like alcohol,” Kashel says bluntly. Auguste rears back, surprised. “And tobacco, and it’s nine thirty in the morning. You look like you haven’t slept, you didn’t answer any of our insistent calls for two hours, and, if I’m not wrong, you’re a university student. You’re not exactly in peak condition to take care of another human being.”

Auguste can’t find anything to say; he cannot - Laurent cannot go to someone else, he just can’t. Sure, Auguste hasn’t been the best brother these past few years, and he’ll have to change everything about his life before it’s even acceptable for Laurent to be near, but he has to take care of him, Laurent is the most important person in the world to him.

He doesn’t know how he seems to have forgotten that.

“I-” he tries. Then again, “I-”

“Right now, you can see him,” Kashel says kindly; she doesn’t look to be older than him, must be only twenty one, and yet she seems calm, entirely put together. Auguste feels like his life is falling apart. “I’ll take you to him.”

Auguste steps inside numbly, watching as a dozen people walk around the house, each doing different things; he doesn’t know what they’re all doing, and, quite frankly, he doesn’t care. He wants to see his brother.

Kashel takes him upstairs, to Laurent’s room - walking through his uncle’s house is a surreal experience. Auguste never thought he’d be back here - and, before she opens the door, she looks at him sternly.

“Do not promise him anything,” she says. “Don’t pressure him to tell you anything, and don’t push for details-”

“I don’t need an instruction manual to talk to my brother,” Auguste snaps.

She purses her lips. “As I’ve heard it, you wouldn’t know, seeing as you haven’t spoken to him for a while.”

Auguste pales, but she does not look in the least apologetic.

“I devote my life to these children, Mr. DeVere,” she says. “My priority here is keeping him safe and not to make this any harder than it already has been. If I have to keep him safe from you, I’ll do that, too.”

Auguste nods.

She looks him over once again, and then knocks on the door softly.

“Laurent,” she says, opening the door slightly; her tone is nothing like the one he’d used on Auguste before. She steps through and then closes the door in Auguste’s face.

He waits impatiently, listening to her talking to Laurent; he can’t quite make out the words, but he assumes she’s asking him if he’s willing to see him. He doesn’t hear Laurent’s response, but, a second later, the door opens, and Kashel steps aside with one last menacing look towards him.

Seeing Laurent is more surreal than walking through the house was; he looks unbelievably thin, somehow exactly as Auguste remembers him and not like that at all, dark bags under his eyes and a look on his face that Auguste has never seen before and wishes to never see again.

He tries to smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Laurent is impossibly quiet.

They’re both silent for a while, and it seems maybe Auguste did need a manual on how to talk to his brother; he wishes he’d paid more attention to Kashel. Don’t promise him anything. Don’t pressure him.

“I-” he tries. I’m sorry? Laurent would have every right to kick him out for saying that. Why didn’t you tell me? Did you try to tell me and I didn’t answer the phone? When you wanted to visit and I said no, why didn’t you insist more?

That wouldn’t be fair; Laurent had made countless efforts to talk to him, to be with him, and Auguste had felt bad about pushing him away, but now... knowing what was going on while he was at parties and refusing to talk to Laurent, it’s a million times worse.

“I-” He doesn’t know what to say. He sees it clearly in Laurent’s face, how uncomfortable he is in the room, and though fury boils inside him, he ignores it. “We can go somewhere else.”

Laurent nods immediately; as they go from room to room, Auguste watches him. They don’t step into Uncle’s rooms, because Auguste assumes most of it happened there, but he searches Laurent’s face for any sign of discomfort any time they go somewhere; the dining room doesn’t work, and neither does the kitchen.

Laurent grimaces in the living room, and wraps his arms around himself warily in Auguste’s old room; the Laundry room doesn’t draw as big a reaction as anywhere else, but it’s also noticeable, so Auguste doesn’t want them to stay there. When he is considering giving up - this was happening, after all, for three years in this house - they walk into the library, and Laurent’s face is sweet relief.

Auguste exhales.

“You’re here,” Laurent says, after he curls himself into the big armchair.

“I am.” Auguste swallows. Laurent doesn’t look at him, and Auguste swallows again. “Laurent, I’m sorry-”

“I’m sorry,” Laurent says, at the same time, and they both look at each other surprised.

“Why are you sorry?” Auguste asks, surprised.

“I-” Laurent’s cheeks are red, suddenly, stained as though he’s been slapped. “I tried to - I didn’t want to give you any trouble - and I’ve made you come all the way here - and now Uncle’s in jail and it’s my fault-”

“What?” Auguste asks. “What?”

“I swore I wouldn’t-” Laurent’s eyes are bright, wet, and he blinks quickly. “He told me I would just bother you and he was right - I swear it wasn’t me who called the police, I didn’t mean for any of this-”

“Laurent, what are you talking about?” Auguste asks, heart beating wildly. “I’m not angry at you. I don’t care if it was you who called the police. Fuck, if it had been you I would’ve said well-done. I’m sorry I left you here, I made it so hard to reach me-”

“It’s not your fault,” Laurent says; he’s nothing like Auguste remembers him; he’s clothed from neck to wrist to toe, everything tightly fitted and dark, nothing like the child Auguste remembers. “I know I’m - a bother, and I really didn’t-”

“Laurent, you never bother me.”

“You didn’t want to see me.”

And isn’t that just perfect? Auguste had been unknowingly helping along a narrative their Uncle had been telling Laurent, about being a bother, about being unloved, Auguste had made him feel all those things.

Fuck; he doesn’t know how he’s fucked up so severely.

“I-” Auguste swallows. “Laurent, I’m not... perfect. I wasn’t - I’m not having the easiest time, and I didn’t want you to see me like that and I was selfish, I never once thought about-”

About what might be going on with his brother, never once saw the signs that were probably already there.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, hollowly.

“I-” Laurent wipes at his eyes desperately, and sounds oddly fragile when he speaks. “Can I - stay with you? I don’t want to go anywhere else-”

“Of course,” Auguste says immediately. “Fuck, Laurent, I’d never let you go to anyone else, I - I love you, so much, I’m so sorry-”

“Promise me, please, promise I-”

Don’t promise anything, Kashel had said. You’re not exactly in peak condition to take care of another human being.

Auguste doesn’t care; he’ll get custody of Laurent, whatever he has to do, however he has to change his life for it.

“I promise,” he says.

-----------------------------------------------------

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scribomaniac · 7 years

Text

Man of Ash and Thorns: Chapter 10

The sun had set by the time Reyna walked into Bellevue Hospital. Hospitals at night were so much creepier than they were during the day. There was a quiet in the halls that made the Sorceress look over her shoulder multiple times as she walked towards her destination. A florescent light flickered off and on, casting dark, ominous shadows on the off-white walls.

Slipping into room 333, Reyna stopped at the foot of the patient's bed. "I was wondering when you'd show up," Bub said as he stepped out of the shadows behind her. The room had no windows to the outside, and the only light shining on the two of them came from the machines monitoring the patient's health. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, traffic was just . . ." sighing, Reyna started again. "Look, I'm sorry to call you so late—and with Hannah being so pregnant, but I—I need your help. Yours and Sam's."

Bub's brows furrowed and he took a step closer, "What's happened?"

Shaking her head, Reyna turned back to the patient, "No—I mean, first just let me summon Sam." The patient in front of her was William Freeman, the body Samyaza had possessed all those months ago. Grabbing the catatonic man's wrist, the Sorceress looked over her shoulder, "Watch the door." Summoning a small exacto knife from her apartment, she made the small incisions on both her forearm and the patient's. His blood was used to create Samyaza's summoning circle, and her was used to draw a binding circle over the summoning one. Placing her hand over the two bloody marks, Reyna whispered the incantation and mixed the seals.

A light flashed, bright and blinding, and then the body gasped and began to thrash about. Reyna stepped back, waiting for the episode to end. His eyes opened and blinked. Once, twice, then after the third time Reyna found herself looking into the black eyes of a Devil. "What," Samyaza breathed out slowly, "the fuck?"

"How do you feel?" Bub asked his brother over his shoulder so he could keep watch by the door.

"Like shit." Sam responded before trying to sit up.

"The muscles have started losing their strength I guess," Reyna mused. She made a mental note to study human muscles more. She knew that the last time they'd used Freeman's body, he'd only been catatonic for a few weeks, so it wasn't too big a deal. This time, though, it'd been a few months. Maybe she should start summoning Sam more often to stop the decay and make it easier for him to move about. Shaking her head quickly, she pushed those thoughts aside for later. She had more pressing concerns at the moment.

Bub, deciding the coast was officially clear, stepped up to his brother to help him up and out of bed. "So you ready to tell us what's going on?" He asked, his blue eyes glinting dangerously in the dark. He looked ready for a fight and Reyna knew she just had to point in it's general direction and he'd jump into it head first.

"I need your help. Lilith, the Queen of—"

"Vampires," Sam snorted as he took a few tentative steps. "We know who she is."

Barely holding back an eye roll, Reyna continued. "She's been kidnapped—or something. She's in trouble down in New Orleans."

"So?" Sam asked, now doing a few lunges to stretch out his legs.

"So, I made a deal with her," Reyna said slowly. "If something happened to her, I'd find her—insurance, she called it."

"And you agreed to that?" Bub asked incredulously. "Why?"

"She went down there to look for a mutual friend." Reyna shrugged, "I'm invested."

"All right, and what do you need us for?"

"The people who've taken her . . . I don't know them. I don't know what tricks they have up their sleeves or who they consider allies. I don't know if I'm powerful enough alone to take them on." Sam snorted again, but Reyna continued, "So I need the two of you to have my back down there."

"Whatever," Sam said, rolling his shoulders, "I can't imagine anything down there powerful enough to actually challenge your power, witch," he smirked, teasing, "much less all three of us, but it makes no difference to me. What to we get out of it?"

"It depends," Reyna said slowly. "On who we face. Oh, don't give me that look, Samyaza!" His lip had curled at her words, "I can't specify what type of souls you'll be feasting on . . . just that it will be souls."

"So you're telling me that you don't care what we're facing down there . . . Werewolves, Fae, Vampires . . . even other witchlings like yourself? If they're involved in the Fanged-Bitch's kidnapping then they're ours?"

Reyna nodded, "Lilith may have something special in mind for whoever orchestrated this, but yes. I don't care what sort of creatures have her—their souls are yours."

A viscous snarl of a smile cut across Sam's face, and even Bub looked thirsty with anticipation. The brother's looked at each other and nodded. Sam clapped his hands together, "Say no more—lead us to the buffet!"

It took just under six hours for Reyna and her Devils to make it to to the airport, catch their plane, and land in New Orleans. Reyna was a bundle of nervous energy the entire way, but she had to force herself to be patient. Even she couldn't make time go by faster, nor could she magic the distance away. Flying was by far the fastest option, and yet she couldn't help feel like it still wasn't fast enough. Bub and Sam used the time to catch up with each other, talking about everything from the Demons and Spirits in their realm to how Hannah was doing. Reyna was relieved to discover she and Bub had been spending the week at her family's home, so at least the mother to be wouldn't be alone for the next few days while Bub was away. The two brothers even tried to distract her, asking about her shop and Liam. When she told them Morax was tasked with looking after the young Were, Sam couldn't help the disgusting, full bellied laughter that escaped him. He laughed so hard he even cried a bit.

Reyna was thankful for them. Although she couldn't stop the incessant tapping of her foot on the floor of the plane, their conversation did help take the edge off and make the trip go by faster. Soon enough, just past one in the morning, their plane landed, and by two they were in a cab heading towards the heart of the city. If the cab driver wondered why his three new patrons had zero luggage, he didn't ask. They drove into the Mid-City neighborhood, near City Park, and got out. The city was still awake and active, which Reyna was grateful for. She didn't want to be caught lurking about and tip off her unknown enemies.

"This will be our base," she told Sam and Bub, pointing to the lively bar behind her. "We'll split up and search the city for any word of Li—" Reyna stopped herself, not knowing who could be listening. She restarted, "any word of the Fanged-Bitch. If you hear anything call the others, if not then we'll meet back here in two hours. Sam, check out the bayous and whatever else is east of them. The Weres might know something, and if not I'm sure there are some Fae or Goblins that'll be willing to make a trade for the information. Bub, check out Seabrook and Little Woods and try to sniff out any Humans or Vampires in the area. I'll stay on this side of the city and see what else I can find. Sound good?"

"It's a big town, Reyna," Bub said without looking at her. His gaze was everywhere else, trying to see what magic lurked beneath the city's busy exterior. "Wouldn't a tracking spell be more efficient?"

Shaking her head, she explained, "It's a gamble, but I'd bet whoever took . . . her has magic on their side to either block a trace or signal them that someone was looking. I don't want to give ourselves away."

"Let them know we're here," Sam said, an arrogant smirk on his face. "I'll enjoy tearing their limbs from their bodies."

"They might not attack, though," Reyna reasoned. "They might run instead, and that's a risk I am not willing to take."

The two Devils nodded in agreement and they dispersed with barely another word. Sam would be his purely demonic self in the bayous. The land was wild and infested with all different sorts of creatures that would give anyone other than a soul thirsty Devil a hard time. Some of the stronger creatures would sense him—sense what he was—and if they were smart they'd steer clear. It'd be good for Sam, to let out some of his pent up aggression and rage there—fun, even. Reyna just hoped he didn't burn everything around him down in his search. Though, if it somehow led to Sophie's safe return, Reyna found she didn't much care what Sam did with the place.

Bub would be more subtle. He'd summon legions of flies from his dimension and have them search his section of the city. They'd seep into every house, car, trash can . . . everything and anything. Nothing would stop their entrance. It'd be much simpler and safer than his brother's methods—so long as nothing tried to stop them. Bub's flies were persistent and would stop at nothing. She'd never seen them in action, but Sam had recounted to her the many times someone tried to hide or block the flies and what those little monsters did in retaliation. They lived off blood and flesh, and would burrow themselves into bodies and carcasses happily if they needed to get through to its other side.

As for her, Reyna knew where she had to go. She could feel the streets singing to her magic, beckoning her to a specific location. She'd heard about it from Donny, back when they were still on speaking terms. Certain bars were crafted to entice the magical community. The bricks used to make the establishment were enchanted to catch the attention of those with close ties to magic and lead them straight to it. A magical bar would be the best place to start her investigation. With every step forward, Reyna could feel her blood singing with excitement and peace—with a sense of belonging. Soon enough, Reyna turned a corner and she felt like she was flying when she stepped up to Sièlce Magnifique.

It was a club. A very popular one, Reyna thought, as she saw the line to get in reach down and around the block. Castors were waiting excitedly to get in. They were all young, like her, and all drawn here by the building's siren song. Reyna took a step closer to the building, figuring she'd wait in line and make it in eventually like the rest, when she caught sight of the bouncer. He wasn't anything special, or out of the ordinary. He looked like a stereotypical bouncer. His white head was shaved, he wore black leather, and he was huge. He was also a Vampire. And he wasn't alone. There were two more up on the roof of the building, one down the street, and one on the other side of the door. Five Vampires wasn't unusual, but five Vampires acting as security? That was suspicious.

Reyna took a step back and gasped as a wave of nausea overcame her. She grunted and took another step back. Another wave of nausea hit her, it was almost like her stomach was trying to turn itself inside out. She took another step, forward this time, and sighed when the feeling disappeared and was immediately replaced with that warm, comforting feeling from before. Frowning, Reyna thought back to Donny and his stories. In none of them did he say that ignoring the magical call would cause a negative side effect. That couldn't be normal.

Looking back at the Castors, Reyna perused their attire and found not a single one of them wore anything to repel a Vampire. Not a single one had markings on their skin to protect themselves. Not a single one had cast a spell over themselves or their friends. That didn't necessarily mean anything, but . . . she walked closer to the line and set her sights on a group of female Castors about her age that were in middle of the long line. "Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering I you knew where I could find Bourbon Street?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," one of the girls said, "We're just visiting—we don't know where anything is!"

"You're all tourists, too, then?" She asked, watching the many people around her nod. A few people in front and behind them nodded as well after she caught their eyes. She walked down the line a bit and asked again. The answer was the same. She tried again, going almost to the end of the line. Tourists, all of them. Catching the eye of one of the Vampire bouncers, Reyna stopped her questioning and instead got in line and pulled out her phone.

Reyna sent a text out to both Bub and Sam, calling them back to her and giving them her current address. By the time they found her, Reyna was almost at the front of the line. Sam arrived looking exhilarated, liberated, completely at ease with everything in the universe. Bub looked a little like that as well, his eyes were alight with danger and adrenaline, but he also had the sense to realize Reyna had stumbled upon something. So, with a frown pulling at his lips, he asked, "What do we have here?"

"A bad ass looking club!" Sam shouted, pumping his fists up into the air. If Reyna didn't know him better, she'd think he was intoxicated. But no, he was just drunk on his own power.

"Notice the security?" She asked under her breath.

"Yeah, they're Vamps," Bub's brow furrowed with confusion. "So?"

"And these people in line," Reyna continued, jerking her chin to the people waiting around them. "What are they?"

"Humans—Castors, I guess. Why does that—"

"Only Castors," Reyna clarified. "And only tourists." The door to the club opened up and the three of them were led inside. The lighting was dark, much too dark for a human's natural eye sight. Music blared from the speakers at a volume higher than anywhere around, making it almost impossible to communicate. Bodies grind and writhed against one another on the dance floor and huddles of people were clustered together in what looked intimate embraces.

Sneering at it all—the flare, the dramatics, the illusions—Reyna felt her magic crackle within her muscles and uncoil deep within her belly. Throwing her hands up, Reyna released a wave of pure magic throughout the building like a great tidal wave in the middle of a once calm ocean. Sparks flew from the massive speakers and the music stopped, only to be replaced by howling screams. Emergency lights flickered once, twice, thrice, before the room was illuminated by bright florescent lights, showing the true nature of the club. The writhing bodies from the dance floor were flailing about, trying to escape the Vampires latched around their necks. The intimate groupings along the side were uncovered to be Vampires finishing off the last of their dried up prey.

Sam let out a low whistle, "Not a club, then."

Bub's jaw dropped, "A slaughter house."

"Yup," Reyna said darkly, looking at all the Vampires in the room and watching as they realized meal had been interrupted. Several began to hiss at them, and Reyna heard something latch into place behind them—the door's lock, most likely. Peripherally, Reyna saw several Vampires stalking towards them and could feel the security Vampire coming up from behind. "Well boys, you wanted souls," she looked up at the two Devils and gestured towards the Vampires, "Think these will do?"

Samyaza smiled down at her, his teeth barring themselves menacingly. He looked like the perfect predator, only perhaps a bit too gleeful at the prospect of the hunt. Blinking, his eyes bled black and he broke eye contact to look at the feast before him. "Oh," he laughed, his smile widening, "This'll do."

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Original Works

A03

#fiction #lit #magic #sorcery #werewolves #vampires #fae #original work

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annashipper · 7 years

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EveryDetailOfU Submission

Hi Anna, =333= and hugs I’ve been pondering on it for several days now, discussed with random people, still couldn’t let go and I feel I’ve fell out of love of the show, this’s got to be a long one, sorry

First, about the wandering around London part, tbh I hardly recognized Mycroft in these two episodes, he just seemed so sloppy, not doing anything but let things happen. Sherlock was high as a kite, and went rogue as he said, apparently with someone, and he didn’t even think about checking it up, but phoned John Watson instead? Now who’s shipping Johnlock 🙄 Then the drug burst, his brother caused a scene because he was high, but he hadn’t been hallucinating, someone WAS there that night. I know Sherlock had been planning along, putting himself into extremely dangerous situation to let John save him. But it’s only when he saw the note at the end of the episode that he realized it had been true. I agree with the idea that Sherlock was manipulated into taking the case, also because of the note. Culverton Smith got the note from his daughter, the safest way was to burn it, not keeping it somewhere that people, like Eurus would get a hold of it. So I think it’s them Eurus/Moriaty/Culverton Smith planned and presented it to Sherlock. So I don’t think it’s planned that Mycroft was pretending he believed Sherlock had just been high, did the drug bust, took John to Baker Street so that he could read the disc. It’s very careless of Mycroft.

Also, I think Sherlock had believed in the meeting with “the daughter” before he saw the actual daughter, and that’s the whole point, if Eurus hadn’t been convincing, Sherlock wouldn’t have been lured to the case. So, how had he been able to make the plan to put the bug in John’s cane? Because if the daughter had been true and walked into the morgue, no matter what happened, it probably wouldn’t be that easy to end up with John beating up Sherlock so hard that he needed to stay in the hospital. It’s too much a stretch to me.

And, there’s this thing that has been bothering me since season 3, in the trailer, there’s this line, that Sherlock’s (?) demon has been waiting for a very long time. Could that be something very bad happen between Sherlock and the other when they were very young? But one thing still doesn’t make much sense to me, their parents. Hope I didn’t get it wrong, I think it’s from Mark that he/they thought the parents were just some brilliant yet ordinary people. They seemed very loving couple and parents to me, and the idea that these loving parents had these children, Mycroft (caring is not and advantage), Sherlock (drug addict, self-proclaimed sociopath) and Eurus (probably criminal mastermind) troubles me. There’s always such a big gap between each season, it makes me feel that they didn’t think it through in the first place, only write whatever they seem fit at the moment when new season comes. And it doesn’t always work well. Like Mary, it probably was great fun to give her a back story like that, wrote her as this BAMF, highly intelligent assassin, but then, there was no way she would have a happy ending, her past definitely would come back to haunt her. It’s doomed. And it would not just be her, but her family also, including John Watson and their baby. Then everyone just acted like they COULD have it. Sherlock got shot and nearly died and committed murder for, this?? Is it not too naive? Then John, John Watson, it’s not easy to find a woman who fitted him like Mary did, knew his addiction to danger, who not only didn’t blame him but encourage him and enjoyed it as much as he did. He had this marriage, this relationship, that his one and only best friend almost died, shall we say three times for, and he cheated. This doesn’t make sense to me also. I know John suffered a lot, his mental health was very poor after Mary died, I fully understand the urge and that he actually did beat Sherlock up, but like that? the kicking? NO, it’s NOT OK. Because he was letting his hurt and grief and guilt out on Sherlock and it also showed me that he didn’t trust Sherlock, he thought Sherlock had just been hallucinating. Where had the man who said nobody can fake being such an annoying dick all the time gone? Sherlock had made planned three weeks ago, he knew John just that well, while John didn’t seem like know him anymore. It’s so one sided. Why John Watson, a caretaker and a solider has become this man who is the one always needs to be taking care of, to be protected, to be saved? While Sherlock Holmes has been making progress, on his way to become a great man, John Watson seems like going backwards, becomes more stubborn and self-centered. This is not the show and characters I fell in love with. Sorry for the rant Anna, I know everyone perceive things differently, I’m just feel a bit sad the characters I once loved feel so different to me now : ( And I know I sound quite stubborn, I’m, I’ve got quite worked up, but for all of my thoughts about the plot the characters, please let me know if you have different opinion, I’d like to hear them very much.

But these are all about the writing and the direction they want to take the characters, the actings are always good. And it certainly is fun that the other is a “sister. There’s always something.”

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

First off, let me just say I’m reserving judgement for this season until everything is said and done and I see the Hartswood West logo go up on my TV. And then I’ll wait a few more seconds, just in case there’s another post-credits gift from Moftiss.

So far, the fourth season has been very challenging for me. This is the first time I’ve actually had to wait a week between episodes, so the theorising and the speculation and hunting for clues has been as entertaining as it has been annoying for me personally. It was so much easier just popping the next DVD in and watching the whole thing unfold before my eyes, one episode after the other.

Anyway, I’m not going to go into anything else because I’m about to make your submission even longer with my reply, but I do want to address the part about Mycroft letting things slide and seemingly not having everything under control over TLD. It’s something that’s been bothering me to no end as it’s very unlike Mycroft to not have full control; especially when his brother is spiralling out of control.

So... I have a theory.

What if Sherlock never actually used drugs during TLD, but was only just pretending? What if it’s a long game that Mycroft has been in on from the very start to draw out Eurus? IF Eurus is indeed the third Holmes sibling, it makes very little sense that Sherlock wouldn’t be able to recognise her, even if he hasn’t seen her in years and even if he was drugged during the night they spent together walking around London. This is Sherlock we’re talking about. And let’s not forget he’s got the post humus game from Moriarty weighing on his mind, so he knows there’s imminent danger round the corner.

Furthermore, this is the first time that I can remember in the show that Mycroft hasn’t been able to monitor his brother using CCTV cameras. One would think Mycroft would be paying even closer attention knowing Sherlock is drugged up again, out of control and without his best friend to look after him.

To me at least, it’s far more plausible that Sherlock and Mycroft have devised a plan where Sherlock is pretending to be drugged out of his mind, Mycroft is letting things slide on purpose, and Eurus would feel safe enough to come out and play.

The fact that Sherlock had to “go to hell” to allow John to save him is just an unhappy coincidence and it means that the latter couldn’t be let in on the plan. Which brings me to why Molly was summoned to the therapist’s office to confirm that Sherlock was using.

What kind of an examination can one conduct in an ambulance to ascertain whether someone’s using? Are we supposed to presume Sherlock peed in a jar and Molly made a quick analysis of the sample on the move? What could she possibly deduce that John, another doctor, wasn’t capable of deducing?

We know by now that everybody lies on this show. Molly has proven herself to be trustworthy enough by keeping Sherlock’s secret for the two years he was supposedly dead and taking down Moriarty’s web, so it’s not really a stretch of the imagination that she’d agree to push the drugs lie as well. What better way for no one to question whether Sherlock was actually doing drugs than to have the lovestruck woman who’s constantly worried over his well being and who slapped him silly during HLV because he was “throwing away the beautiful gifts he was born with” confirm he was using?

That would give Sherlock and Mycroft an advantage over Eurus / Sherrinford to be two steps ahead of the latter and play their long game instead. We know Sherlock (and presumably Mycroft judging by TEH) love their backup plans.

Anyway, perhaps it’s a crazy theory on my part, but I just don’t see Sherlock and Mycroft being that careless. Especially with Mycroft confirming repeatedly that he’s speaking to Sherrinford during the past two episodes. We’ll see.

Personally I can’t wait to see how Moftiss are going to tie everything together. Less than 48 hours to go now :D

#everydetailofu #submission

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