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codename-adler · 3 years

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Kevin Day and his Oblivious Literature Lover, pt. VI

This bit explores Kevin’s sexual identity and his relationship to Jean, so, you know, not all funs and games... But very cathartic to write. I love them.

>> Table of Contents, TW and other parts are here!

after Juliet’s confession, their little talk does not flow any easier, but despite the rocky start and their dirty secrets, they push through the stuff that matters

it’s like a dam burst open

though, some subjects remain silenced

no parents, no exy, no relationships, no entourage, no names…

it’s just them

Kevin stays well into the afternoon

he has no class on Tuesdays, except in the mornings and, well, for once, he chose to rearrange his priorities

it wasn’t even a difficult choice, it wasn’t even a question: he had to stay, simple as that

he even missed morning practice

morning practice

it scares him, he feels the restlessness running through his veins, he feels guilty, guilty, guilty… and so, so weak…

but that was easier than leaving Juliet in the state she was

that had never happened before

not even with Jean

he’s used to flight, not fight

as for Juliet, either she didn’t have class or she chose the same as Kevin

either way, both were unspokenly grateful

sometimes, Juliet would fall asleep

sometimes she’d go non verbal and simply watch Kevin do his homework

one time he fell asleep

he woke up extremely tense, his jaw hurting from the clenching and his back protesting against his curled up position on the floor (really, an elite athlete should know better)

Juliet was looking at him strangely

“Can I ask for another truth?” she said quietly

he nodded calmly while his heart went racing

“Who’s Jean?”

“You said his name in your sleep. A lot. Are you usually a sleeptalker? I know I sleepwalk sometimes, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked,” she added

Kevin took an awful long time to think

he was looking at Juliet without really seeing her

instead he was imagining Jean’s bruised and battered face

he started speaking without refocusing his gaze, staring in the distance behind Juliet

“Jean is… He’s the one who taught me French. He’s the one who made me discover philosophy, Sartre and Hell is other people and all. He’s the one who listened first. He is the man that knows my shames, my failures, my mistakes, my ugly side, the man who knew and still looked at me as a human being with worth. He’s the one who showed me how to reset a dislocated shoulder. He’s the one I used to talk to in the middle of the night, about future plans or crazy ideas or incredible historical discoveries. He was my crutch when I couldn’t stand on my own anymore. He’s the one who kept my spirits up when times were tough. He is the man who kept me alive without either of us realizing it until it was too late. He is the man that I took for granted, the man I left behind without a second thought when things got too bad. I could beg for forgiveness my whole life and it still wouldn’t be enough to do right by him. He is the only person that has ever left me speechless. He can make my mind go blank, he can make me lose my words, he can shut me up with just a word. He’s the only one I let, at least. Jean is… So much. Too much, sometimes.”

Kevin’s throat tightened as he spoke, fists clenching and unclenching, his stomach twisting into knots of guilt and shame

if he’d been able to cry, Kevin would have shed burning tears

but he couldn’t

it’s as if everything in his system had been ready to cry, only for his body to realize that his water tank was completely empty of tears

and if Juliet hadn’t been looking at him with such intensity and such intent, Kevin would’ve ran away to Jean’s bedside right this second

three entire languages couldn’t even begin to express everything that Jean was to Kevin

Jean was every single emotion Kevin had ever felt in his short yet brutal existence, wrapped in one person as complex as the mechanics of the world

Kevin thought back on that first night when he allowed himself to be close to Jean since his escape from Edgar Allen

he thought back on how, with a single touch, all their entangled feelings came rushing back to the surface

how Kevin had never wanted to let go ever again, but the dark and violent waves of emotions had made his instincts scream with the urge to run away

Kevin had forgotten Juliet was still a witness to his battle

“Jean was… is… you ex?” she asked, something like wariness in her eyes

and what

“What?” he even says aloud

“Jean was your partner? Before… whatever it is you overcame?” Juliet repeats

“No!?”

“Okay… I’m sorry, Kevin… I didn’t mean…” she apologizes

“Why would you say that?” Kevin harshly asks

“Why wouldn’t I? It seems you two shared a very special bond, that’s all I’m saying,” she replies

she couldn’t possibly know

she couldn’t know

how would she know?

only two people in this godforsaken existence knew about these secrets in the dark, one of them being barely conscious in a bed a few minutes away, and the other one being himself

it was impossible that Juliet knew about what had transpired between him and Jean

“Kevin?” Juliet’s voice finally reaching him

“I said ‘Sorry for assuming’, I shouldn’t have done that. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, I’m sorry.”

Kevin considered their exchange

“I think I want to talk about it. To you,” Kevin finally spoke

Juliet nodded slowly, ever so careful, a silent yet binding promise passing between them

and so Kevin told her everything

absolutely everything

everything that didn’t touch exy, Riko, the Ravens, but that still left plenty, enough to cover many pages of poetry

he told her about how it had started between them, how Jean’s resilience had intrigued Kevin and how it had made him discover that there was more to life than his adoptive-brother

how Kevin had wanted a part of that rebellion Jean carried in his heart, how he tutored Kevin in French to share that slow-burning flame

he told her how for the first time in his life, Kevin’s entire focus wasn’t on one thing, but on a person too

he told her how their midnight talks became as important to him as his duty was

he told her how he began fighting for something else without knowing what it was, or why

he told her how on these nights, as Jean was teaching him verb tenses in French, their heads had, inch by inch, made their way closer to the other’s, until their foreheads were touching and their whispers barely made a sound on their lips

he told her how one fateful night, as Jean was teaching him the future tenses, their faces hadn’t stopped moving once their foreheads touched

how that simple touch hadn’t been enough anymore

how Jean had been his first kiss, his every kisses for the longest time

how he had been Jean’s first kiss, too

he told her how they had been each other’s first for everything

how they had been each other’s everything for a long time

he also told her how his fear and his shame, and his ambition, had ruined what they had

how his and Jean’s “situation” made it so, so hard

how once he was 17 and was “promoted”, Kevin didn’t choose Jean back

how it was on-and-off between them even when he showed interest towards Thea, also his now ex

how he had “moved” when shit hit the fan, and how he didn’t bring Jean with him because he was too scared, too self-centered, too weak

he told her how nobody knew back then, how nobody knows even now, because he had denied everything to everyone, including himself

and he told her how Jean was back, now, and how the memories came flooding back in with that same sour, yet familiar taste of shame, guilt, and fear

Kevin talked and talked and talked…

and Juliet listened

and Kevin cried, or rather, tears escaped his saddened eyes without even realizing it

and Juliet cried, too

they both wiped away the mess with the sleeves of their sweaters

“I have nothing to say about guilt and shame, but… If you liked Jean, if you loved him… if you still do… that is so okay, Kevin. It’s just love. You find it where you can. There’s nothing wrong with that, or with you. That’s how I see it… how I- I see you. You’re still you, Kevin.”

“You don’t know me,” Kevin replied fast, without thinking

Juliet just raised her eyebrow in a really, Kevin? way

“Look at where we are… Look at me… This isn’t even my worst. And I don’t believe it’s yours either. But it’s not pretty. Give us a little credit here, Kev; we’re not strangers anymore. Please don’t be a stranger… “

“Okay, Jules”

---

Kevin left Jackie Hall after sundown, with his heart heavy and his mind racing, but his shoulders a little lighter than yesterday

nothing in his life had magically changed into a goddamn fairytale, yet it felt different

Jules had told him nobody could decide who he was, that was his decision and his alone

he held that power, and only he chose who could wield some of it

he could choose what to do with it, and that thing could be outside of exy

at least, it could be for someone, instead of something

someone like Jean

on his way back to the familiarity Abby’s, back to Jean, he began plotting

by the time he was back by the bedside of the person he’d held so close to his heart and his lips, once upon a time, Kevin had formed a plan to give Jean the happy ending he so deserved

he’d have to make a few calls to USC, to the Trojans, to Jeremy Knox, he’d have to be careful of what he revealed, he’d have to convince Jean to leave, he’d have to convince himself to let Jean go, too, but he believed it was worth it

and if once in a while, in his cautious planning of Jean’s second chance at life, Kevin absentmindedly thought of a certain face framed with frizzy hair when the words “happy ending” kept nagging him, well no one could take that away from him either

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phael-the-trash-bin · 4 years

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Backstory: the Incident part 2

Warning: mentions of torture and character death

A meaty fist slammed against my face, waking me with a start. Oh gods, everything hurt so much. One of the guards started to unshackle me from the wall, and soon I was being dragged up the stairs to the top deck of the ship. “Where’s Jules?” I gasped, trying desperately to catch my breath. The guard wouldn’t answer, and I tried my hardest to squirm out of his grasp. The guard only gripped me tighter and forced me back to the office of Captain Nyx. I was shoved into a chair, my hands bound with rope once again, and Nyx came into the office, shaking his head at me.

“What am I going to do with you?” Nyx paced for a little bit before finally sitting at the desk.

“Where is Jules?” I demanded. Nyx raised an eyebrow.

“I don't exactly think you’re in a position to be asking questions,” He scoffed before folding his hands in front of him. “We will be sailing into Zonfranian waters tomorrow. You have one day to live if you continue to not cooperate with me. So I ask you, where will your ship go, what is your next smuggling shipment?”

I remembered what Jules had said about Nyx killing us no matter what we gave him, so I said only one thing: “Where. Is. Jules?”

Nyx sighed and got up from the desk, walking behind me and placing a hand on my shoulder. “Boy, believe it or not, I don’t get any pleasure from watching suffering, even of the likes of you.”

I scoffed. “Eat shit Nyx.”

“I ought to shoot the two of you here out on the sea and leave your bodies for your captain to find. But I find myself in the position of needing to make an example of you, by showing my people that actions have consequences.” Nyx gestured over to a guard who grabbed me roughly by my bound wrists and forced me up.

“Remember, one more day to cooperate.”

And with that, the guard whirled me around towards the exit and marched me back to the brig. A strong shove left me sprawled back in the confines of the brig cell, and as I lifted my head, I saw a silhouette of a sleeping figure in the cell next to mine. “Jules…” I breathed out. The figure lifted its head and I gasped at the sight before me. The entire left side of Jules’ face was filled with slashes looking like they came from a whip, and the same marks littered his chest and back. “Jules, what have they done to you?”

I crept as close to the metal bars separating us as I could, and Jules did the same until our foreheads were touching, nuzzling in the comfort of one another. “They said if I cooperated they would let you go, but I tried to tell them… look what they’ve already done, they should just kill us already. At least you’d be free of this,” Jules rambled on.

“At least we’re together,” I whispered. “At least we’ll always have each other.”

I don’t know how long we sat there, just savoring the heat of each other. Hours, maybe. It wasn’t until I turned around to try and reposition myself that I realized we may have hope after all. I scratched the palm of my hand after accidentally swiping it against a nail pointing diagonally out of the side of the ship, and realized that if it was sharp enough to scratch, it may be sharp enough to cut. I began rubbing the ropes binding my hands against the nail, and I prayed. Please let this work, please let this work.

After what felt like hours, I could feel the ropes start to loosen and give, until I was able to wriggle my hands out of the remaining rope. Wincing at the burns on my wrists, I turned to Jules and motioned to let me untie his rope. The ropes gave way after a great deal of effort on my part, and Jules began rubbing his sore wrists before reaching out and grabbing my hand. “Phäel , how are we going to get out of here? We’re unbound, but that doesn’t do much for us unless…” he trailed off, reaching to my head and plucking out a pin that had been holding my hair back. “Maybe we could use this to pick the locks!” Excitement crept into his whispers. And with that, he began to pick at the lock to his cell door.

After what seemed like an eternity, the lock to the door popped open and the cell door swung open with a quiet creak. Jules rushed out of his cell and immediately began working to open the door to my cell. Finally, we were both free! I grabbed his hand and motioned for him to follow me as we crept up the stairs of the brig. We were actually doing this, we were going to get out! I could feel Jules shivering from the night breeze, and gripped his hand tighter. Now we just had to find a lifeboat to escape on. We seemed to have lucked out, nobody was guarding the ship. Most of the navy men must have been asleep by now.

We snuck quietly along the deck, and almost made it to the lifeboat when a deep voice sent icy daggers of panic through my body.

“I’m disappointed to see you leaving so soon.”

It was Nyx.

I stood frozen in fear as Nyx raised his gun and pointed it directly at me. I couldn’t move. I felt Jules tugging on my arm but my feet stayed in place. Then everything seemed to move in slow motion. Nyx pulled the trigger and I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact. Waiting for death. But it never came. My eyes shot open as I felt a warm splattering of a sticky liquid hit my face and saw…

I saw…

Jules. No. No no no no no no no NO.

Jules’ eyes locked with mine before rolling back as his body crumpled to the floor.

Nyx reloaded his gun, but not before I let out a guttural scream and ran forward, slamming my body into Nyx and tackling him to the ground. I began punching as hard as I could, aiming for his nose, his eyes, anything. When Nyx seemed stunned enough to not react, I scampered back to Jules and began dragging his body to the lifeboat. I could hear Nyx calling for reinforcements, but all I could focus on untying the ropes holding the boat up. I could hear shots being fired as more navy men swarmed onto the top deck, but none of them hit their targets as the lifeboat began falling into the water.

I rowed for my life.

My arms were burning as I tried to escape. I saw in the distance the crew starting to arm one of the cannons, and I stopped trying to row. There was no point, there was no way we could escape, we…

We!

I turned and looked down desperately at Jules just in time to see him struggle to open his eyes. Thank Helm above he was alive!

“Jules, Jules, I’m here! It’s okay, we’ll get you to safety, you’ll be alright!”

Tears were streaming down Jules’ cheeks, mixing with the blood matting his hair and sticking along his face. Oh gods, there was so much blood. I held his head in my lap and grasped one of his trembling hands in my own. He weakly lifted his other hand to wipe away tears I hadn’t even noticed had started falling.

I lowered my head closer to his until our foreheads were touching, and I began to hear the sound of cannonballs crashing in the water around us. But I didn’t care. Because I was going to be with Jules forever after this. We would be okay, I tried to tell myself.

“Do you know my dear”, Jules sputtered, barely able to keep his eyes open. “I do believe I was a little in love with you”

And with that, he leaned forward and our lips met for only a second before his head fell back, eyes half open but lightless. He was gone, he was gone. But it was okay, I decided as I watched the cannonball soar closer and closer. I held Jules close to me and closed my eyes as I heard an ear splitting crack and felt a sharp pain, and then nothing.

Everything seemed to happen at once. I gasped for air, lungs heaving and trying to spit out the saltwater collected in them. I couldn’t open my eyes, all I could do was try to breathe. I felt bile coming up through my throat and I turned over just in time for my insides to start spewing out. As soon as I tried to move, I cried out in pain at the piercing sensation in my abdomen. I finally started to open my eyes only to find that I was alone. Alone but… alive. Oh no, please no no no no no no NO! I whirled my head around trying to find Jules, to see where he had gone, but he was nowhere to be seen. He was gone, he had left me behind. I began to scream. We were supposed to be together, we were supposed to go together, and he left me behind. I screamed and screamed until I felt like my throat would bleed any minute. Then I just layed there. On a piece of jagged driftwood. Alone.

A piece of wood from the shattered boat had embedded itself in my abdomen, and I couldn’t figure out how to remove it. I thought, maybe if I removed it I would bleed out faster... then I could see Jules again. I layed on my back and closed my eyes, the sun baking my skin as I waited for the inevitable, hoping, even, for the inevitable. But the inevitable never came.

Instead, I woke up in an infirmary. Except, it felt familiar. My eyes crept open only to find… I was on the scarlet spell. I was alive, on the ship. Maybe this all was a fever dream. I tried to sit up but the pain came from my abdomen again. I looked down to see blood seeping from a bandage wrapped around my stomach and chest. If that was real, then I was alive. Oh gods I was alive…. no, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this! I began to scream again, gasping for air as my lungs started to spasm. The familiar face of captain Daisi immediately came into view as she put her hands on the sides on my face and tried to calm me down but nothing would work. I couldn’t be alive, I shouldn’t be alive. “Where is Jules?!” I gasped, Daisi hanging her head for a moment. “No, no no no no, why did you save me, why couldn’t you have let me die?!” I was sobbing now, and Daisi leaned forward, wrapping her strong arms around me to try and steady my trembling form.

I cried and cried for what felt like hours, I shouldn’t have survived. I didn’t want to survive! I felt anger and betrayal and terror and so many emotions I couldn’t comprehend. Eventually the doctor on board forced a potion down my throat, and my eyes immediately felt heavy. Daisi let go of me and laid me back on the cot, my limbs felt too heavy to try to fight it. I drifted back off to darkness, praying, for the first time in a long time, for the strength to keep moving, even without him, even with the memories of what had happened. I prayed, and I slept. And I lived.

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strawbebbynya · 6 years

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Body and Soul, Chp. 14

AO3 | FF.net | Patreon

FIRST CHAPTER | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

As Kravitz made his way through the crowded streets of the city, his entire being seemed to vibrate with excitement. That bot… That bot was the answer to all his problems…

The Raven Queen had sent out her favourite bounty hunter for a single reason: to find where the souls of the dead were being hidden. In the past decade, thousands of souls had disappeared right under the Queen and her reapers’ noses without even a trace. Kravitz had suspected necromancers, at first, but there was no proof, no smell of it when he tracked down the bodies of the missing souls.

When a missing soul did appear, they were often insane or simply unable to tell what had happened to them— those were the worst; they never understood that they had died in the first place. At least the insane ones had lead them to necromancers, although they had no connection to the disappearances.

But this, paired with necromancers attempting to bind themselves to an android body, was an absolute breakthrough.

The bot had a soul of a dead man.

Taako Taaco had died two months, one day, 12 hours, and 23 seconds ago. He had not reached the Astral Plane, same as his sister, who had died shortly after. It was supposed to be a clean and cut case; the reaper had been following them for hours before their death, keeping a close eye on them, and they’d slipped right from under their noses.

“Um, excuse me, sir,” came a nasally voice from behind him. “You dropped this.”

Kravitz turned and blinked down at the shaky hand before him, holding his watch. “Oh! Thank you; most people would have simply stolen it,” he said, reaching out to take it.

Upon the graze of his fingertips against the stranger's bare hand, Kravitz suddenly cried out and flinched away, as though he'd been burned suddenly. If he hadn't stuffed his hand back into his pocket with watch in hand, the entire car would've seen how the elf’s hand had seemingly disintegrated into bone.

“Are you okay?” asked the nasal voiced stranger, reaching out to touch him. “Did I shock you? Oh jeez, I always do that, I- I'm so sorry—”

The voice continued on like that as Kravitz reeled from the pain, forcing flesh back over his bones. As a being of radiant energy, he was vulnerable to necrotic energies, but to be affected like this in his living form… What the hell were they?

“I'm fine, I'm fine. Just… surprised me, is all. What did you say your name was?”

“Lucas. Lucas Miller. Oh! This is my stop! Um, try not to lose that watch anymore, stranger!”

As Kravitz watched the man brush by and run out onto platform, he began to wonder what he'd gotten himself into with this bounty.

————

The silence of the library was broken suddenly by the sound of Lucretia's stone of farspeech ringing, making the two of them jump. The older woman sighed and placed the files she'd gathered in front of Angus before answering the call. “Director speaking.”

“Lucy, we got a problem,” said Merle, his voice barely a whisper. “It's that Bluejeans guy.”

“Hallwinter?” Angus’s ears perked up as he listened in, eyes focused on the text before him (his mother did not care if he knew about her secret organization, but he at least had the decency to pretend he wasn't listening. “What's happened? Is everything alright?”

“It's fine— sorta. If you… Consider half his face burned off alright.”

“Wait, what?!” Angus shouted. “Wh— sir, what happened?!”

“Aw, jeez— seriously, Lucretia? You're letting the kid listen to this?”

“Angus has proven himself to be a valuable asset to our cause and—”

“Hi Ango!” interrupted Magnus. “Jules is asleep right now, but she wanted to know if you and Lucretia wanted to come over for Candlenights?”

“Maggie, I love ya, but—”

“We'd be happy to come, Magnus. I haven't heard from her lately, has she been busy?”

“Sirs, can we please get back on track?” Angus finally interjected. “What happened to Barry?”

“Right, right. Billy—”

“Barry,” the three of them said in unison.

“— had his face… well, melted by fire. More specifically, by magic from a very powerful evocation user. It couldn't've been more than a second’s touch, but he won't have any sight in his right eye after this, and the scarring will take a better cleric than I to get rid of.”

The four of them stood by in silence. Angus could see his mother worrying her lip, the gears turning in his head. “Will this… interfere with his ability to repair Davenport?”

“Momma!” Angus gasped, but neither Merle nor Magnus seemed perturbed by it.

“We can't know for sure, but the fire didn't hit any of his brain, so with a little time to learn to get around with one eye, he should be able to get the captain back in working order.”

That was right; mother had told Angus that Davenport was the first bot they ever built to… to have a human soul. Something had gone wrong in his head, at some point, and now all he was good at was acting like a parrot and abiding by his butler programming.

“Thank the gods. He's our last option. I fear Lucas might be going into the next step of his plan soon— I've lost contact with Noelle.”

Noelle, Noelle… right, Lucas's assistant and momma’s spy.

“I can't say how long it'll take to get Bluejeans back in working order, but I'll try my best, Lucy. I swear.”

#my stuff #my fics #my writing

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clockworkopera · 7 years

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The next two chapters from my Dark Artifices fanfic, Rise From the Ashes are up. You can find it here. I had a scene between Helen and Dru before Livvy’s memorial which I thought turned out really sweet and sad, so I included it below for those interested!

A soft knock rapped Dru’s door. “Dru?” she heard Helen’s softer voice. “Can I come in?”

Dru sighed and went to answer the door. “Livia’s memorial,” Helen stuttered a little, the words difficult, and stuck in Helen’s throat. Dru always thought of Helen as stately and refined—unflappable. It made her seem more human and relatable to Dru that she was struggling just as much as the rest of them with Livvy’s death.

Helen cleared her throat and started again. “I went through the storage trunks in the basement,” Helen said. “Dad’s old mourning clothes should fit Julian—he’s grown so tall. But I found Mom’s too,” she said handing the folded clothes to Dru. “I think hers will fit you.”

Dru felt her eyebrows raise in disbelief as she hesitantly took the folded clothes from Helen. Dru was taller than Helen—she’d always grown faster than her age, both up and out. Helen was so petite and dainty, elegantly beautiful with platinum hair, Dru felt like a lumbering oaf when standing next to her. While she was touched that Helen would even spare the time to think of her, a part of her was really angry and wanted to shout—Don’t you understand that even though their adult clothes, they won’t fit me either!

It wasn’t that she was even really angry at Helen, or the stupid clothes, she was just angry at everything—the unfairness of it all.

Dru knew that Livvy would have understood, wouldn’t have blamed her for not having anything appropriate for the memorial; but Helen was perfect—there was no way she could ever relate to Dru’s struggles. “Who do you think Mom was mourning?” she asked, just to change the subject so she wouldn’t burst into tears. She didn’t know how she was going to get through the memorial today.

“She went to the Academy at the same time as Valentine,” Helen said. “She had to have lost people she cared about during the Uprising.”

“What about her parents?” Dru asked. “I asked Julian, but he didn’t know much about them.”

Helen sat down next to her on the bed. “I’m sorry Dru, I don’t know much about them, either. I know they died before Mark and I came to the Institute. She never really spoke about them, at least not to me.”

“We can look up their names in the genealogical records, but that’s all we’ll ever know about them—just names. They lived whole lives and we’ll never know anything about them. Even great-aunt Marjorie either didn’t know, or wouldn’t tell. And I barely remember Mom,” she whispered.

Helen brushed a stray curl behind Dru’s ear and leaned in to prop up Dru’s drooping body. “I do remember Mom. She didn’t give birth to me, but she always treated me as a daughter of her blood—same with Mark. We’ll talk of her, and I will tell you as many stories as I can remember. Maybe we can trade,” Helen said shyly, “for I missed a great deal of Livia’s life, and I would know more of her too.”

Dru’s lower lip trembled, and she just nodded, tracing the embroidered runes on the cuffs of the clothes. “Why don’t you try these on?” Helen urged. Dru blinked back tears, but couldn’t think of a way to avoid it, so she took a deep breath and headed toward her bathroom.

She set the clothes on the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Pudgy with reddened eyes from an earlier crying fit, she felt so ashamed. How was she going to go out there and embarrass herself with how ridiculous she looked stuffing herself into too tight clothing. Maybe she didn’t have to—maybe she could just refold them and say the her they didn’t work. It would still leave her with nothing to wear today.

She sighed, deciding this needed to be faced, like one would slaughter a demon—with courage in the face of terror. She pulled her pants and t-shirt off and readjusted her bra, trying to comfortable with her body.

She pulled on the pants first and was surprised how comfortable they were and was astonished the waistband was even a little loose. Maybe that was because Mom was always pregnant, but no—Helen said they were from her time at the Academy, and that was before she married her dad. She wiggled a little and the pants actually fell to her hips, enough so that she may even need a belt to hold it up. She looked in the mirror and saw saucer eyes of disbelief staring back at her.

Dru shook out the jacket, her fingers running over fabric, straightening it out. It was big enough to almost look like man’s. She pulled it on, and again it was a bit loose on the shoulders, but the cuffs of the sleeves hit her wrist just where they were supposed to. She buttoned it along the side and was dismayed to find the chest area had plenty of room to grow.

An almost hysterical laugh bubbled up as she wiped away a stream of tears. Did this mean her boobs had plenty more room to keep growing too? Raziel help her.

Her mom had been big like her. She wondered if Great-Aunt Marjorie had ever called her mother fat. Blinking back tears, she fumbled with the clasp of the locket around her neck. It was Livvy’s and Julian had given it to Dru after—

She sucked in a breath, not wanting to think about it. Her thumbnail popped it open and she saw two small pictures. Her mother on one side, her father on the other. She looked at the tiny oval image of her mother, smiling eyes in a face she guessed could be considered round.

When she finally came out Helen was looking at her spread of movie posters. It was not how most teenage girls decorated their room, but she was a Blackthorn—she suspected none of them would ever be normal.

Dru wanted to ask—Mom was big like me? But to ask that question seemed degrading and she wouldn’t ever do that to her mom. Obviously, Eleanor Blackthorn had not been a glamourous petite faerie, like Lady Nerissa. And still her father had loved her, married her, had a boatload of children with her. Dru struggled to reshuffle her memories, because that hadn’t been what little Dru remembered of her mother. She remembered her mother smiling and laughing at the dinner table as her father made her laugh, smelling like good food in the kitchen, and night time stories and lullabies. Actually, a lot of the stuff Julian did for them—that must be where he got his nurturing from.

Dru had always felt like an outsider in the family, between being at an odd age and an odd size. She knew she was a Blackthorn because of her hair and eyes, but otherwise she sometimes felt like the stork had made a mistake in the family delivery. But, maybe…she was like her mom.

Helen could see the fresh deluge of tears, but before she could ask Dru burst out in a half sob, “I didn’t think I would find mourning clothes to fit—“ she sniffled. “They fit perfectly. It’s like she gave me a gift today. She and dad—they’re taking good care of Livvy, right?”

Helen blinked back her own tears and nodded. “I don’t know what happens to us after we die Dru, but I do believe that love binds us together like threads. I believe so because I know how much they loved all of us. I remember when you were born you were so tiny. It’s easy to forget how small newborns are. Ty and Livvy were only two, but they seemed giants compared to you. You cried, and Ty didn’t like that at all. Livvy kept shushing him and she was impatient to finally get to hold you—because even back then Jules had dibs and poor mom, having to play mediator, imparting vast wisdom and logic on a four-year-old and two-year-old twins. She liked to sing, do you remember that?”

Dru nodded. She was six when her mother died. She’d been kept in her own room away from everyone for what seemed forever—but was probably only the one night when her mother had finally passed. She’d said goodbye, but she’d thought of it more as a goodnight and didn’t understand when she went to go see her mom the next day, why everyone was so sad. Or what death meant—only that she was never going to see her mom again.

It was the first time she remembered Ty really rocking—it hadn’t bothered her, but her father had kept getting frustrated with her brother. Ty hadn’t talked for a long time after that, either. She remembered her father being angry about that too, and how protective Livvy had been with Ty, even then. She remembered how upset her dad had been with everyone. Jules had been too—the first time his world had been upturned. She remembered that Emma hugged her back then, and said she’d make sure Jules was okay. Even now she bet that was just what Emma was doing.

“I’m worried about Julian,” she said confiding in Helen.

Helen sighed. “It’s only been a few years I’ve been away, but I hardly recognize who he is, the man he’s become. I asked him to take care of you and I know he’s done a good job. Dru, I didn’t know about Arthur or what Julian had to struggle with. I thought Arthur was taking better care of you, and I’m sorry I didn’t know. I couldn’t have come, but Aline would have. Nonetheless we are both here for you now.”

“But then you would have been without Aline,” Dru said thoughtfully. “That’s like Julian being without Emma. It was better this way, what Julian did. Maybe it was harder, but better.”

“When did you get so wise?” Helen fidgeted and looked uncomfortable. “It is not just Livia’s life that I have missed, but yours as well. I would like to know more of you too.”

Dru felt the warm sincerity brimming from Helen.

#Dark artifices fanfic #Rise from the ashes #Drusilla Blackthorn #Helen Blackthorn #original post

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