#this one's kinda painful

[reddorkredemption]

My Blessed Son—Chapter 19

|| AO3 || Chapter List / Story Info ||  

Summary:

For years, Jack Marston dreamed of killing Edgar Ross, the man who had taken everything from him, who had ruined his life. His obsession with revenge had given him a reason to keep going. But now, after it was done, he was left lost, depressed and without purpose. He was left to navigate life alone with the unforgiving eyes of the law slowly narrowing in on him. Though he soon comes to realize that perhaps he isn’t quite as alone as he thought he would be. A continuation from the end of Red Dead Redemption 1.

Word count: ~10.3k

Quick warning: this chapter touches pretty heavily on Jack’s trauma & grief, so if you’re sensitive to those things, please tread lightly and take care of yourself. <3

Chapter under the cut <3

Jack bounced his leg up and down, rhythmically shaking the dining room chair he was sitting in, no doubt scuffing up the wooden floor underneath him. His mother always hated when he’d do that, and he could hear the ghost of her voice in his head scolding him for it. The thought made his knee still, and he took to tapping his foot instead. 

He was leaning forward against the table, his elbows propped up as his fingers fiddled with the little bracelet of flowers Lilly had given him a few days prior. Gently, as if it were the most valuable yet fragile thing in the world, he turned it in his hands, running his thumb along one of the tiny, wilted petals.

It had definitely seen better days, and as he examined it, he wished he had kept it somewhere safer— somewhere more conducive to its preservation than the cold, hard wood of his bedside table. The color of the flowers had dulled, and the edges of the leaves along the stem were turning brown and crunchy. 

But despite the thing’s rapid deterioration, Jack couldn’t bring himself to throw it out. Lilly had given it to him, and he loved her.

He loved her. 

Ever since that night by the chicken coop, that thought had been replaying in his head nonstop. It was hard to focus on anything else. And he had no idea what to do about it. He didn’t know how to talk to Lilly normally anymore, how to look her in the eye when his heart stampeded in his chest every time he saw her. 

He hoped she hadn’t noticed his change in demeanor, and if she did, he hoped that she wouldn’t ask about it. Because what would he say? How could he possibly begin to tell her how he felt when he hardly understood it himself? 

He had no experience with this kind of thing— he couldn’t even form a friendship with anyone growing up, let alone anything more than that. And beyond the cheesy romances he’d read in his books, he had nothing to draw on for guidance and no one to ask for help. 

Well, maybe not nothing. Uncle— completely unprompted— had told him plenty of things. Things that would’ve gotten the old man skinned alive if Jack’s mother had overheard them. Things that should never be repeated, much less applied to his relationship with Lilly. She didn’t deserve to be thought of in that way. No one did. So none of that was of any use. In fact, Jack was sure he’d be better off never having heard it at all. 

His parents were gone, and even when they were still around, they had never broached the subject with him. Maybe because he’d never brought it up, they assumed he didn’t have any interest in it.

And in a way, they’d be right. Before now— before he met Lilly— falling in love was never something he thought much about, and in the rare instances it did cross his mind, he’d always concluded that it would never happen to him. Love was for other people; it was for the characters in his books. Not for him. He wasn’t the type.

At least, he thought he wasn’t…. 

The sound of the back door swinging open startled him back to the present, and he closed his fist around the flowers in his hand, grimacing as he felt a leaf crunch against his palm. He tried to collect himself and act natural as Lilly entered the room, but the way his heart jumped when he saw her didn’t make it easy. 

She came to the table, a spring in her step and a bright grin plastered across her face, threatening to melt his heart entirely. “You’ll never guess what I found,” she said, slapping her palms down on the table. Before he could even attempt a guess, she continued, “I found Chickpea.”

Chickpea— the name of one of the hens that went missing after the coyote attack. “Really?” He slid the fist clutching the flowers off the table, slowly so as not to draw attention, and rested it in his lap.

Lilly nodded. “She was hidin’ out in the barn— God knows how she got in there. She’s really shaken up and has a big chunk of feathers missing, but she’s still alive.”

“Oh,” he said, the mere mention of the barn making his stomach turn. Of course the chicken was in there. The one place he’d never dare to check. Swallowing his unease, he forced a smile. “That’s good.”

“Yeah. That means we only lost two of ‘em— less than half.” She put her hands on her hips, and her grin widened. “Things are back to looking up again. I can feel it.”

“I hope so.”

“I know so,” she countered, pulling out a chair on the opposite side of the table and sitting down. “The place is looking great; there’s barely anything left we have to fix up…”

Jack’s smile became a bit more genuine as she carried on, speaking about all they’d accomplished around the ranch. Her unwavering optimism was infectious, whether he considered it to be realistic or not. 

As she moved on to talk about the work they still had left to do, Jack felt himself getting lost in his head again, his subconscious only picking up small bits and pieces of what she was saying. His eyes drifted down to her lips, to the dimples that graced her cheeks as she smiled, to the missing button near the top of her shirt and the small sliver of skin that showed through the gap it left.

What if he told her how he felt right now?— just blurted it out right here in the middle of her rambling. How would she react? What would she say? Would she think he’s some kind of creep or would she feel the same way? She had to be here with him for a reason, right? And that reason had always been a mystery to him. For a moment, he dared to think that it might be because she did feel the same.

But as always, the cynical part of his brain had to chime in to crush that idea. It told him that she may only be putting up with him to keep a roof over her head. Back when he invited her to the ranch, she was practically destitute; she was days away from being forced to be one of the saloon or hotel’s working girls. Maybe she’d just decided that staying with Jack was the lesser evil. 

Although, if that were the case, it wouldn’t make much sense for her to stick around through all the trouble with the bureau. Surely, she would’ve left by now….

Jack was pulled out of his thoughts when he noticed that Lilly had suddenly stopped talking. He refocused on her face, his heart sinking to his stomach when she looked back at him expectantly, as if she’d asked him a question.

He swallowed hard and glanced off to the side, his mind racing to come up with some generic answer. He couldn’t admit that he hadn’t been listening to her; she’d think he was an asshole, or worse, she’d ask what exactly it was that had him so distracted.

As the seconds ticked by without a word from him, she asked, “Does that sound good?”

Some of his panic faded. She’d thrown him a lifeline: a simple yes or no question. But did what sound good? What had she been talking about before he zoned out? Something about the ranch, something about cleaning….

“Jack?” she prodded gently.

“Uh, yeah,” he blurted out. “Sure. That sounds fine.”

She eyed him for a moment, an inquisitive look on her face. “Okay. Great,” she said, though she didn’t sound all too convinced. Jack avoided eye contact with her, glancing up only long enough to see her smile return. “Well, I’ll meet you outside then.”

Jack gave a nod of agreement, and Lilly stood up, abandoning the table to go back out the back door. He watched her as she left, holding his breath and only releasing it once he heard the door shut behind her.

He slouched in his chair and loosened his grip on the flowers in his fist. As he lifted his palm to assess the damage done to the petals, a strange sense of dread crept over him. What did he just agree to? 

He tried to shove the feeling away, reasoning that it couldn’t have been anything bad. It was likely just some tedious chore she needed his help with— something heavy she couldn’t lift or a rooster she couldn’t get to behave. But despite his attempts to reassure himself, he couldn’t shake his unease, not until he found out for sure what he’d signed up for. And there was only one way to do that.

Jack scooted away from the table, internally apologizing to his mother as the chair scratched against the floor again, and stood up. He stopped by his bedroom first, where he set the bracelet of flowers on his desk and placed a book on top of it to keep it safe. Then, he made his way outside. 

As he exited the house, he scanned the area in search of Lilly, and when he spotted her standing by the barn, his blood ran cold. The dread he’d been feeling intensified, hitting him with enough force to stop him in his tracks.

She wanted to start cleaning out the barn, didn’t she? He should’ve known. God, how stupid was he? Of course that’s what she was talking about— it was the last big thing they needed to do to fix up the ranch.

She locked eyes with him and waved him over, the most blissfully ignorant smile plastered across her face. After a brief hesitation, he continued towards her, dragging his feet. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were just going to meet there and then go off and do something else. Please, God, tell him he was wrong.

Keeping his eyes trained on Lilly, he held his breath as he stepped into the big shadow cast by the barn. Any hope he had that she was planning to do something else was dashed when she faced the barn, surveying it with her hands on her hips. He stopped beside her, locking his knees to keep them from shaking.

She glanced over at him, still smiling. “Once we get this done, maybe we can get a cow,” she said, clapping her hands together in delight. “I don’t know how much they cost, but I’m sure we could scrape it together.”

“Maybe,” he replied morosely. 

His tone caused her smile to falter, and she turned to him, her brows furrowing in concern. “Everything okay?”

He shifted on his feet. No. No, it’s not. Tell her it’s not. She knew that his father had been shot in front of the barn; he had told her. She should understand. 

But she didn’t know that meant he was so afraid of the place. Because who would be? Who would be afraid of something so ridiculous— something so obviously harmless? His mother had never had a problem going in there. Why should he?

Shaking his head to quiet his quarreling thoughts, he answered, “Yeah. Just… not lookin’ forward to the smell.”

She chuckled. “Well, the sooner we get things cleaned up, the sooner we won’t have to deal with that anymore.”

“Right….”

With a shrug, she approached the barn and pushed open one of the swinging doors, poking her head inside then immediately drawing back. “Man, you weren’t kidding,” she said, her hand flying to her nose to cover the stench. She opened the door further, letting out a heavy sigh as she stepped into the doorway and looked around. “We really saved the biggest task for last, huh?”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Jack murmured.

He glanced up at the ridge overlooking the ranch, part of him hoping to see those couple of bureau agents standing there again— that could’ve given him a last-ditch excuse to get out of working on the barn. But of course, he wasn’t that lucky; there was nobody up there that day. 

Lilly slipped the rest of the way inside, keeping a hand on the door to hold it open for him. He stared past her into the barn, his heart racing so hard he feared it would burst. It’s fine, he told himself. It’ll be fine. He needed to suck it up. It was just a barn; there wasn’t anything in there that could hurt him. There wasn’t anything in there scarier than having to admit how afraid he was of something so innocuous.

So despite every muscle in his body screaming at him to stop, he dragged his feet forward and followed her inside. 

The door swung shut behind him, and he froze in place as he was enveloped in the dark abyss of the barn. For a moment, nothing happened, and he took a couple of steps forward, peering around and taking in his surroundings.

Then, slowly, they crept in. All of the memories of the hell that had unleashed around that barn. All of the feelings, the sensations, the things he pushed away into the darkest corners of his mind, hoping they would get lost there. The images of his father lying dead on the ground outside, his mother’s heart-shattering wails, the blood left on his hands after they’d dragged his body into the barn. He could still feel it on his skin, slowly rolling down his fingertips and dripping into the dirt. He wiped his hands on his shirt, trying to make the feeling go away, but it was persistent.

The distant sound of Lilly’s voice calling his name pulled him out of his stupor. She stepped into his line of sight and waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked at her, unable to speak as his heart pounded in his throat.

His eyes darted around frantically, and it felt like the walls were starting to close in on him. His limbs shook, and he couldn’t remember how to breathe; it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the building. A single thought ran through his head on repeat: Get. Out. 

Regaining control of his feet, he stumbled backwards into the doors, slamming them open and launching himself onto the ground outside. The impact pushed all of the air from his lungs, and he gasped as he scrambled to his knees. He looked up to see a blurry image of Lilly rushing out of the barn after him. 

“What happened!?” she asked, standing to the side as he crawled over to a hitching post and pulled himself back up to his feet. 

“I can’t,” he stammered in between labored breaths, slumping over the post. “I can’t go in there.” 

His stomach turned, and Lilly watched with a horrified look on her face as he let out a series of dry-heaves. Once the heaving stopped, he tightened his grip on the hitching post and groaned.

“O-Okay, that’s fine,” she said, waving her hands. “You don’t have to. I can do it myself. Don’t worry—”

“No!” Jack snapped, growing angry with himself. This was ridiculous; he was being ridiculous. He shouldn’t be acting this way; there was no reason for this. “You can’t just do everything by yourself. You shouldn’t have to!”

“Okay, um… do you wanna sit outside the door then?” she suggested, her voice starting to waver. “Or… or maybe we don’t need to do it at all. We can—”

“No, just— just stop!” he shouted over her, making the mistake of looking her in the eyes as he did so. The startled, almost fearful, look on her face gave him pause, causing a deep shame to settle in the pit of his stomach. He tore his eyes away; he couldn’t bear to keep looking at her. All he wanted was to run away and find somewhere to hide.

So that’s what he chose to do. He released his grasp on the post and began rushing towards the house.

“Jack!” Lilly called, chasing after him. “Hey!”

He turned around and put his palms up, shaking violently. “Just leave me alone, okay? I don’t—” I don’t wanna scare you away for good. I don’t wanna make you hate me. Tears brimmed his eyes, and he blinked them away. “I need a minute.”

Before she could say anything else, he took off running to the house, craving the safety and solitude of his bedroom. When he got there, he slammed the door behind him and sat down hard on his bed, still unable to stop his shaking. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug his nails into the mattress, trying to focus on taking deep breaths as he rode out the panic wracking his body.

———

He didn’t know how long it lasted, but when the anxiety finally began to fade, an overwhelming sense of grief crept in to take its place. It was just as strong as the night after his father was buried— when Jack lay in bed, staring at the ceiling while it sank in that he was really gone. He wasn’t going to wake up in the morning and find out that it was all a terrible nightmare. He wasn’t ever going to see him again. He would never have the chance to say all the things he’d left unspoken.

Jack stared blankly ahead as the feeling festered, not moving until there was a light knock at the door. As he turned to face it, the door opened a crack, and Lilly poked her head inside. He made eye contact with her for half a second before putting his head down, another rush of shame and embarrassment washing over him. 

The door creaked open further, and Lilly, her voice soft as ever, asked, “Can I come in?”

Without looking up, he responded with a silent nod.

She slipped inside, her footsteps barely audible as she crossed the room to sit down on the bed beside him. They sat there quietly for a moment, Jack keeping his eyes glued to the floor and Lilly twiddling her thumbs.

The silence was broken when she gently asked, “Do you… wanna tell me what happened?”

His brow knitted together, and his cheeks burned as he recalled how ridiculously he had behaved. Unable— or unwilling— to explain himself, he buried his head in his hands and blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, placing a hand between his shoulder blades, slowly trailing it up his back in a soothing motion. “I just… wanna understand.”

Resting his fists on his cheeks, he stared at the floor for a few seconds longer before gathering the courage to look at her. On her face, he didn’t find any of the judgment he feared he would. Instead, her eyes were filled with sadness and a hint of remorse that broke his heart.

He lowered his head again. “My pa got shot in front of the barn.” He left it at that, knowing if he offered any more details about the event, he’d only set himself off again. “And now, every time I go in there…” He trailed off; it felt like there were no words to truly describe what happened in that barn— what he felt in there. It was like he still had one foot in the past. Like some part of his soul had broken off the day his father died and gotten stuck there, and the second he stepped into that barn, it reattached itself. 

He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s… all I can think about, and it almost feels like I’m right back there. And I know I’m not, but…” He clenched his fists when he felt himself beginning to shake again. “I can’t handle it.”

“So… that’s happened before?” Lilly asked.

“Yeah. A few times.”

She nodded and went quiet again, continuing to softly rub his back.

Quickly growing uncomfortable with the silence, he muttered, “I’m sorry. I know I overreacted. I know I was being—”

“Stop.” Her hand left his back, and she wrapped her arm around him, hugging him tightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong; you can’t control the way things make you feel. None of that was your fault. You know that, right?”

He didn’t answer; he knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

“Jack….” She squeezed him tighter.

He clenched his jaw. “I was bein’ weak.”

“You weren’t,” she said, her voice remaining soft but gaining a hint of defiance. “If that was true… you wouldn’t have gone in there at all.” She tapped the side of his chin to get him to look at her. “You said that’s happened before. So you knew you wouldn’t like it in there, but you went in anyway. What part of that is weak?”

Jack scoffed and looked away. She said that as if he’d forced himself to go in there for some great, noble purpose. As if the whole thing hadn’t just been a miserably failed attempt at saving himself a little embarrassment.

She grabbed one of his hands, and he widened his eyes at her. “I think you’re a lot stronger than you realize, Jack,” she said. “And this doesn’t change that.”

He pulled his hand from her grasp and lowered his head. “It sure don’t feel that way.”

“Well,” she sighed, resting her palms on her knees, “I think things rarely feel the way they really are.”

Jack couldn’t come up with a response to that, so they fell back into silence. He truly did appreciate her for being there— for sitting and talking with him and trying to help. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t see it the way she did, and he didn’t feel like arguing any further.

Without the conversation to distract him, he became painfully aware of how exhausted his episode had left him. Not to mention that lingering grief still festering deep in the pit of his stomach. Groaning, he stretched his legs out and rubbed his eyes.

Lilly eyed him. “Are you feelin’ alright now? Is there anything I can do or get for you?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, massaging his forehead. “I’m exhausted. I kinda just wanna go back to bed.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Here.” She stood up and walked over to the window, pulling the sheer curtains shut. They didn’t do much to block out the light, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. 

She gave him a reassuring smile, and he tried to muster one up in return, hoping she could see the unspoken gratitude behind it. When she started heading for the door, he felt a pang of disappointment. Although he was tired and not in the mood to talk, he didn’t want her to leave. He missed the warmth of her sitting beside him.

“Wait,” he croaked.

She stopped in front of the door and looked over her shoulder at him, and when her eyes met his, the little bit of nerve he had left crumbled. He wasn’t sure what he was planning on saying anyway. He couldn’t very well ask her to stay and watch him sleep. He’d embarrassed himself enough for one day, and the awkwardness of that would make him vaporize.

“Uh, n-nevermind,” he said.

She turned to fully face him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, his heart rate kicking up again. “It wasn’t important. You can go.”

Lilly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and for a moment, she seemed disappointed. “Okay, well… if you change your mind— if you decide you need somethin’— lemme know,” she said, giving him another smile. “I’m always around.”

The reminder that she wasn’t going anywhere tugged at his heart, making it beat even faster. He sucked in his lips and gave a nod in response. With that, she left the room, gently shutting the door behind her.

He sighed and flopped back in his bed, shoving the heels of his palms against his eyes and hoping that sleep would take him soon.

———

Jack tossed and turned for ages, but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t shut his mind off. Every time he closed his eyes, he was assaulted with gruesome images of his father, and he couldn’t shake the grief that kept gnawing at his aching chest. Eventually, he gave up and crawled out of bed.

Half-dazed from his exhaustion, he wandered back outside, keeping his head down to avoid catching sight of the barn. He didn’t know where Lilly had run off to, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He didn’t want to bother her any more.

For a few minutes, he meandered around the porch, hoping the fresh autumn air would help clear his mind. But when it didn’t, he strayed farther from the house, letting his feet take control and decide where to lead him.

He ended up at the bottom of the hill that led up to his family’s gravesite, and he stopped and stared up at the three wooden crosses looming over him. He hadn’t been up there since the day he buried his mother. And before then, he only visited his father’s grave a couple of times, never staying longer than a few minutes. Sticking around any longer had been too painful. 

Still, he should’ve gone up there more often to tend to the graves, and that thought caused a pang of guilt to shoot through his chest. He pushed himself forward, slowly making his way up to the cliffside.

He approached the three graves at the top and stood a few feet away from them, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Seeing the state of them— especially of his father’s— intensified his guilt. He took a step closer to his father’s grave, examining the makeshift wooden cross that bore his name. The wood was weathered and had split in multiple places from the water damage it had endured, making it difficult to read what was inscribed on it. Additionally, the mound of dirt was covered in unsightly weeds, most of which were concentrated around the base of the cross.

He glanced over at his mother’s marker, which was in better shape but still already showing some of the same signs of decay. And Uncle’s was no better than his father’s.

It tore Jack apart. He wished he had the money to give them something better. They deserved better. They deserved to have one of those nice, carved stones like the ones in the cemetery in Blackwater, and they deserved to have a son who actually took the time to pull up the weeds around their graves.

His breath caught, and he knelt down in front of his father’s grave. 

After a moment, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The words were so simple, yet he meant them more than anything he had ever said before. They were behind almost everything he did. They were the reason he refused to leave the ranch behind, the reason he threw his revolver in the lake, the reason he now shunned the whiskey he so desperately craved. Yet none of that felt like enough, and the guilt that burned inside him threatened to swallow him whole.

He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms until it hurt. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, a bit louder.

Jack hoped that somewhere, somehow, his father could hear him. He hoped he knew how sorry he was for never coming up there and for always pushing him away when he was still around. And more importantly, how sorry he was for how far he’d fallen after his father’s death. For how he’d broken what was left of his mother’s heart in his quest for revenge and how he’d let the ranch his father built for them go to shit. 

 Jack hoped he knew he’d take it all back if he could. 

A couple of silent tears rolled down his cheek, and he wiped them on the shoulder of his sleeve. But when they continued to come, he didn’t make any effort to stop them. He allowed the full force of his grief and his guilt to spill down his face unrestrained.

Gritting his teeth, he hunched forward onto his hands and knees and dug his fists into the ground, tightening them around the clumps of weeds at the base of the grave marker. With a gruff sob, he tore them out of the earth and threw them to the side. Then, again and again, he went back for more fistfuls, determined to uproot every last one.

When he finished with his father’s grave, he moved on to his mother’s, and then to Uncle’s, ripping up every weed in sight until his hands were red and raw. All the while, the tears never stopped rolling down his cheeks.

When the graves were free of weeds, he dragged himself underneath a nearby tree, panting and sweating from his efforts. His throat ached, and his chest was burning, yet strangely, the whole ordeal left him feeling lighter than he had in years. 

He wiped the streaks of tears off his cheeks and closed his eyes, taking in the fresh air and the feeling of the breeze against his skin. As his heart rate returned to normal, exhaustion settled in again. He stretched his legs out, leaned his head back against the tree, and tugged his hat down over his eyes. 

Within minutes, he finally drifted off to sleep.

The air was warmer when Jack awoke, and his skin tingled from the streaks of sunlight shining through the tree’s branches. He stretched and lifted the brim of his hat, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light. Glancing up at the sky, he noted the position of the sun and concluded that it was now around the middle of the afternoon. He sat there for a moment longer, waiting for his lingering sleepiness to wear off before standing up. 

As he got back to his feet, he brushed the dirt off his jeans and smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. Then, resolving to clean up the remains of the weeds he’d uprooted later, he passed by his family’s graves and approached the edge of the cliff to take a look around.

From that angle, he could see the entirety of the ranch, and he was struck by how much it had changed over the past few months. Most of the tall patches of grass and weeds that once littered the place had been trimmed down. The fence surrounding the property was free of holes. And the chicken coop, even despite the coyote attack, was bustling with life again. 

It looked a lot more like it had a few years ago. 

His eyes landed on the once-overgrown gazebo, where he found Lilly sitting and reading a book. As he watched her, her words echoed in his head: You’re a lot stronger than you realize. Maybe she was right. And maybe the proof of that was right in front of him. 

Coming back to the ranch was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he did it anyway. And in that moment, as he stared down at the fruits of all his hard work, he felt that it had paid off. He felt that his parents would have been proud of him. Despite all the setbacks he had faced— and was still facing— he had managed to do something right.

But his pride faltered a bit when he looked at the barn, remembering the mess that was still inside. He’d made a lot of progress on the ranch, but he wasn’t quite finished yet. And he didn’t want to give up now. 

Taking in a shaky breath, Jack lifted his chin and stepped away from the ledge. Then, with a final sorrowful yet determined glance at his family’s graves, he made his way over to the gazebo. As he approached, Lilly looked up from her book and then closed it, setting it in her lap and folding her hands on top of it. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and stared at her as he tried to come up with what to say. 

She gave him a gentle smile. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he greeted her back, scratching at the dirt with his boot. “I— I’ll sit outside the door.” He nodded towards the barn. “If that’s… still an option.”

Her eyes lit up, and the warmth in her gaze made his chest stir. “Of course it is.”

She set her book down on the table and stood up, brushing off her skirt as she stepped out of the gazebo to join him. She put her hand on his shoulder, and without a second thought, he grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug.

After a sharp inhale of surprise, she wrapped her arms around him. 

“Thank you,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m glad you’re here. I…” He trailed off, only able to finish the sentence in his head: I love you.

Lilly squeezed him then pulled away to give him another sweet smile. “Don’t mention it.”

———

They spent the next couple of days cleaning out the barn, taking it little by little so it was easier for Jack to cope with. Well, Lilly was the one doing the majority of the cleaning. He mostly stood in the doorway, watching and chatting with her to keep his mind from wandering. Occasionally, in an effort to make himself feel somewhat useful, he’d pick up a pitchfork and try to help clean the area within its reach, but he still couldn’t bring himself to go inside. 

And despite Lilly’s insistence that he shouldn’t, he felt guilty for it. Cleaning out the barn wasn’t a pleasant task nor an easy one, and it wasn’t fair that she had to do it on her own. He was the one who let the place fall into such a state of disarray; it was his responsibility to fix it. 

So on the third day, he woke up determined to do a bit more. 

It was especially chilly outside that morning, and as he made his way to the barn, his feet crunched against the frosty morning dew that coated the grass. Lilly was already over there waiting for him, leaning against the doorframe with her arms wrapped around herself and her face pointed up to the sky. As he got closer, he saw that her eyes were closed, and she didn’t appear to notice his arrival, even when he stopped just a couple of feet away from her. 

He stood there awkwardly, waiting for her to realize he was there, but when she didn’t move, he quietly said, “Hey.”

Lilly opened her eyes and turned to him, a bit startled. She blinked a few times before giving him a small smile. “Hey, there you are.”

“Here I am,” he said. “You alright?”

Shaking her head, she replied, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” She chuckled and pushed herself away from the wall, standing up straight. “Coffee just hasn’t quite kicked in yet.”

Jack responded with a short, polite laugh, but as he looked into her eyes, he felt a small pang in his chest. She looked exhausted, sporting the dark under-eye circles that he often saw on her when she was staying in Blackwater. Up until that point, she seemed to be doing better at Beecher’s Hope, but now, he feared that all the stress of the past week may be getting to her.

“We can start later if you wanna go get some rest,” he said. 

“No, that’s not necessary,” she said, waving him off. “I’ll survive.” Before he had any chance to object, she nodded at the barn’s swinging doors and motioned for him to help her prop them open. “No use putting it off.”

He stood in place for a moment longer, watching her with a faint look of concern as she turned her back on him and pulled one of the doors open. Then, choosing to let the issue rest for now, he joined her and propped open the other door with an old sack of corn. 

With the doors open, Lilly gave him another smile before strolling inside. Jack lingered in the doorway, feet rooted to the dirt as he mustered up the courage to follow her in.

Taking a deep breath and holding it in, he dragged one foot past the threshold into the barn. Then, with a brief hesitation, the other followed, and he found himself standing inside. His knees shook as he peered around, spotting Lilly in the corner of one of the stalls, her back turned to him as she surveyed the mess on the floor. He moved stiffly towards her, drawn to her like a moth to a lone light in the darkness. 

When she turned around and saw him standing right behind her, she widened her eyes and let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. “What are you doing?”

He released his breath, trying to ignore how hard his heart was thumping in his chest. “Uh, helping?” 

An affectionate gleam appeared in her eyes, making his heart pound harder. “It’s fine, Jack. I can do it.” Her voice was soft. “You don’t have to—”

“I know. I want to.”

That was a lie. He didn’t want to be in there; he didn’t hate it any less than he did before. Being within those four walls still caused an unshakable sense of dread to churn in his stomach; it still made it hard to breathe. But he needed to. 

Swallowing the lump forming in his throat, he added, “Just for a bit.”

Lilly studied him for a moment, her reluctance clear on her face. But despite her concern, she nodded and patted him on the arm, quietly repeating, “Just for a bit.”

With that, she grabbed a pitchfork that was leaning against the wall and handed it to him. Jack took it with shaky hands and held it tightly, staring at her expectantly as he waited for her to explain what they were doing. 

“I wanted to finish cleaning out this stall today,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and smiling at him. “With the two of us, it shouldn’t take too long.”

Jack agreed, and they got to work immediately. He stayed quiet the entire time, focusing intently on the task at hand and being careful not to let his eyes wander too much. Lilly filled the silence, talking to him about anything she could think of, and while he didn’t respond, he hung onto every word she said like it was the only thing keeping him on Earth. 

She told him a couple short stories about her travels before she came to Blackwater— about how Chicago was the worst city she’d ever been to and how lovely the train ride through Ambarino had been. Then, when she got bored of that, she let him in on some of the scandalous secrets she’d overheard while playing piano at the dinner parties of Blackwater’s elite. And given what she told him, Jack wondered why those people thought they had any right to gossip about her and him.

Despite the distractions, his discomfort continued to grow the longer he stayed in the barn, and it became increasingly difficult to keep himself grounded. But luckily, just as Lilly had said, it didn’t take long until the stall was clean and all of the debris they’d cleared was loaded up into a wheelbarrow. 

He wasted no time in getting out of the barn, taking a slow deep breath of fresh air the moment he stepped outside. Lilly followed behind him with the wheelbarrow. As she pushed it off to the side and removed the doorstops keeping the barn doors open, Jack leaned against the hitching post and lit up a cigarette.

He shakily brought it to his lips, closed his eyes, and took a long drag of it, relishing in the comfort it brought him. When he heard Lilly return to his side, he let out a puff of smoke and opened his eyes.

“You okay?” she asked, leaning against the post beside him.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. “But… I think I’ve had enough for a while.” He raised the cigarette again. “A long while.”

“Okay.” She crossed her arms and nodded. “I think the coop’s about due for a good cleanin’ anyway; we can work on that instead.” She eyed him for a moment, a soft smile on her face. “You did well today.”

Jack let out a chuckle along with another cloud of smoke. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure I’d… um…” He trailed off as his ears caught a distant whirring and sputtering sound coming from the east. 

Looking in the direction of the sound, he spotted a shiny black motor car coming up the road from Blackwater, half hidden by a hill. He furrowed his brows at it.

“Huh,” Lilly said. “There’s somethin’ you don’t see around here every day.”

Not taking his eyes off the car, he murmured, “No, you don’t….”

An ominous feeling settled into his gut. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw a car this far out from Blackwater. The dirt roads around the plains weren’t made for them. And even within the city, they were a rare sight and were usually only seen being driven by those who worked for the government. 

The car disappeared behind the hill, reappearing moments later near the entrance to Beecher’s Hope. Jack held his breath, praying it would pass and continue up the road to Tall Trees. His heart lurched when instead, it began slowing down and turned in to the ranch.

Lilly took a few steps forward. “The hell?”

Jack extended his arm out to keep her back. 

“What are they comin’ here for?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” he said, his breathing becoming more ragged. He threw his cigarette on the ground and grabbed Lilly by the wrist. “And I don’t wanna.” 

He pulled her around the side of the barn and out of sight of the vehicle. 

Peeking around the corner, he watched the car as it parked in front of the house. After a moment, the sputtering of the engine came to a stop, and out of the car stepped a man wearing a crisp gray suit. He dusted himself off and turned in a circle, taking a long, slow look around the property. Then, he slammed the car door shut and began making his way to the house.

Shuddering, Jack disappeared back behind the corner. 

“Who is it?” Lilly whispered. “Cops?”

He swallowed and nodded. “Just one.”

“They don’t normally come alone— or get this close. What’s he doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Look again!”

He did just that, gripping onto the corner of the wall and poking his head out further this time. The man was on the porch now, repeatedly knocking on the front door and pacing around in between knocks. When it became clear that no one was going to answer, he gave up on knocking and kicked the door in a fit of frustration. This sent a jolt of anger through Jack, and his grip on the corner tightened.

Abandoning the front door, the man crossed to the other side of the porch and started looking inside the windows. Jack’s anger increased. He couldn’t believe how bold these bureau assholes had become. From standing on the ridge, spying on him from afar to peeping in his windows. What would be next?

He decided he wasn’t going to stand for it. They could watch him all they wanted, but this blatant disrespect was going too far. This guy had been stupid enough to come alone, which gave Jack the courage he needed to step out from his hiding place, meaning to give him a piece of his mind. 

Lilly scurried after him.

“Stay here,” he said, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back behind the barn.

“Jack—”

“Please.”

She hesitated for a moment longer before sighing in defeat. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He squeezed her. “I won’t.”

With that, he took off jogging to the house, fighting off the urge to give the shiny motor car he passed along the way the same disrespectful kick his front door had received. He got to the porch unnoticed and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, glaring at the back of the man’s head as he continued to peer through the window. 

With a huff of anger, he stomped up the steps. “Hey!”

The man pulled back from the window and turned to him, looking startled for only a brief second before assuming a more nonchalant expression. He wasn’t wearing a badge or one of those stupid hats, but Jack wasn’t about to be fooled by that. He knew a bureau agent when he saw one.

Jack marched closer to him, fury behind every one of his steps. “Didn’t I tell you bastards to leave me alone?”

The man’s brows furrowed, and he blinked a few times. “Pardon?” he said, a laugh hiding behind his voice.

“Don’t act stupid.” Jack pushed himself further into the man’s face until he was inches away. “You heard me.”

“Christ.” The man leaned backwards, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “What do you want, a kiss? Back off.”

Jack took a small step back, the response catching him off guard and making his face flush. He stammered a bit before regaining his composure and growling, “Just get the hell out of here!”

The man stared back at him, unshaken. “Look, buddy,” he started, “I don’t know who the fuck you are or what in God’s name your problem is, but I think you might be a little bit confused.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to be confused about,” Jack spat. “I saw you peepin’ in that window. And I know you people have been watchin’ me all week; I’ve seen you!”

“Watching you?” The stranger let out a derisive chuckle of disbelief. “Why would I be watching you? You’re not that much to look at, sweetheart.”

Jack’s nostrils flared, and he could only imagine that his face was redder than ever. He grit his teeth, too livid to form words.

The man seemed to pick up on his increasing fury, and moreover, seemed to be amused by it. Jack clenched his fists, fighting back an overwhelming urge to smack that subtle, self-righteous smile off the bastard’s face. But he was paralyzed with anger, so he simply stared at him, breathing heavily through his nose.

The man sighed and put his hands behind his back, the corner of his lip turning upwards in a more obvious smirk. “Are we finished?”

Jack’s arm twitched. That was it. He was a millisecond away from raising his fists and tearing the guy apart, but before he could, Lilly’s voice from behind him pulled him back down to Earth.

“Tom,” she said quietly, the sound catching in her throat.

Jack looked over his shoulder at her, puzzled and still breathing erratically as he struggled to come down from his anger. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her brows furrowed as her eyes scanned the stranger.

Looking back at the man, Jack saw that he had softened a bit upon seeing Lilly, and his confusion intensified, overtaking his anger. He stammered, “Wha—” Suddenly, he was shoved to the side, sent stumbling into the side of the house while the man approached Lilly. 

She hesitantly stepped towards him. 

“Hey, kid.” He pulled her into a hug but immediately flinched away and held her at arm’s length. “God, you smell like shit,” he said, his face contorting in disgust. “When’s the last time you bathed?”

She wriggled out of his grasp and scoffed. “I bathe every—” She bit her lip, pausing for half a second before correcting herself, “almost every day!”

“In what?” the man asked flatly. “Shit?”

“Shut up!” Lilly snapped, giving him a weak punch in the shoulder. Her cheeks pinkened, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “What are you doing here? You don’t belong here.”

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” His eyes darted back to Jack, and he scowled. “Who the hell’s this clown? He smells even worse than you do.”

Jack glowered at him.

Lilly answered, “This is Jack.”

Recognition flashed across the man’s face. “This is Jack,” he echoed, pursing his lips and looking Jack up and down. He wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms. “Hm.” He turned to Lilly and reduced his voice to a murmur. “Y’know, I think you might need to read up on the definition of a few words….”

Lilly responded with a glare, and Jack furrowed his brows, confused by the exchange. He stepped closer to the pair and, seeking some clarity, finally spoke up again. “Who are you?” he asked, a trace of bitterness still present in his voice.

The man smirked and faced Jack again. “I—”

“This is Tommy,” Lilly cut in. “My brother.”

At first, Jack didn’t believe her. He couldn’t. A part of him wanted to burst out laughing. There was no way this smug piece of shit could be related to Lilly— to his sweet, unassuming Lilly. But as he turned his gaze back to the man and took a closer look, he was struck by the resemblance. 

The only major difference of note was the hair; his slicked-back blond hair was a stark contrast to her long, dark curls. But everything else was so similar— the dimples in the cheeks, the slope of the nose, the accent too. 

His eyes were even that same shade of green, though they lacked any of the warmth and light that Jack found in Lilly’s gaze. Hers were the green of the grass in spring, his of a camouflaged snake weaving through that grass.

Related to Lilly or not, Jack had already made up his mind: he didn’t like the guy.

Tommy extended a hand out to him. “Thomas Schuyler.”

Jack stared at his hand, making no move to shake it. He offered only a mumbled utterance of his name. “Jack Marston.”

Tommy's expression soured, and he dropped his arm back down to his side. “Charmed,” he sneered.

“Great, we’ve all met,” Lilly interjected, tapping her foot against the porch— whether from impatience or nervousness, Jack couldn’t tell. “Now, what are you doing here?”

The man looked down in thought for a moment. “I wanted to come check on you.”  He patted her on the shoulder and smiled at her. “Make sure you’re doin’ okay.”

Lilly narrowed her eyes at him, not seeming to buy his explanation. “Why? Why couldn’t you just wait for me to call you like you always have before? I’ve been tryin’ all week.” She looked down at the floor and dropped her voice to a mumble. “Guess I see why you weren’t answerin’ now….”

“Well, sometimes I struggle to trust the things you tell me over the telephone, and lookin’ around, I think I might’ve been right to be skeptical.” As he spoke, he looked around, taking in the sight of the ranch with a displeased look on his face. “You told me you were stayin’ someplace nice. Yet here we are….”

Jack pursed his lips, the thinly-veiled insult towards his home deepening his dislike of the man. The ranch was everything to him. He and Lilly had put so much work into it, as had his family before them— his father built the place with his own two hands. This lanky asshole, who didn’t look like he’d ever done a real day’s work in his life, had no right to disparage it. He clenched his right fist, fighting off the rage that he could feel building up inside of him again.

Lilly shot Jack an apologetic glance. “This is someplace nice.”

Tommy scoffed out a laugh and shook his head. “Right….”

They all went quiet, and Tommy leaned against the house, pulling a cigarette out of his breast pocket. As he lit it up, Lilly watched him warily, shifting her weight between her feet. Jack did the same. He didn’t like the timing of all this— the guy just happened to drop by right after Lilly’s slip-up with those agents? He wasn’t buying that.

Finally, Lilly spoke up, asking the question that was on both of their minds: “Is… is that it?”

“Why?” Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Were you expecting something else?”

“N-No.” She gave a nervous laugh and crossed her arms. “It’s just that I don’t understand why you would come all this way for something so trivial. That seems a bit ridiculous— even for you.”

He hummed and tapped on his cigarette, causing a sprinkle of ash to flutter down onto the porch. “Okay. Fair point,” he mumbled, shrugging a single shoulder as he brought the cigarette back to his lips.

Lilly wrung her hands. “So what’s going on then?”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke. “A little while ago, a couple of morons from the Bureau of Investigation showed up on Ma’s doorstep.”

Jack felt all of the blood drain from his face as the man’s words confirmed what he’d feared. He briefly locked eyes with Lilly, who wore the same subtle look of dismay that he was sure had spread across his own face. 

Then, almost immediately, she dropped the expression and raised her eyebrows in feigned surprise. “Why?” she asked, refocusing on her brother. “What’d they want?” There was a small hitch in her voice as she spoke, so subtle that Jack thought he must have been the only one to notice. 

Tommy took another slow drag of his cigarette before answering, “They just asked her if she happened to know anyone in or from West Elizabeth. They wouldn’t tell her much else, but of course, she thought it must have somethin’ to do with you.” He paused and looked her up and down. “And when she came and told me about it, I had the same thought too.”

Lilly’s face paled, and this time, she didn’t try to hide her dismay. “Wait, y-you didn’t tell her I’m here, did you?”

“No. I didn’t,” Tommy scoffed, waving the question off as if it were absurd. 

She breathed a shaky sigh of relief.

“But,” he continued, “since I knew you were here, the whole encounter didn’t really sit well with me.” He shrugged. “So naturally, I went and harassed ‘em into givin’ me a little more context.”

The man paused to take another long puff of his cigarette, and as the silence droned on, Jack felt like he would crumble from anticipation. 

“And?” Lilly prompted.

Tommy sighed, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “They told me that they were lookin’ for a suspect in a separate missing person’s case in West Elizabeth, and someone told them that person was up in Boston.” He furrowed his brows. “That someone also gave them Ma’s name for some reason.”

“Okay…” Lilly replied, dumbfounding Jack with her ability to keep her tone so nonchalant. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I just thought it was strange.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you not?”

Lilly fidgeted a bit under his gaze. “I mean, sure, it kinda is,” she said, her eyes nervously flitting over to Jack again. “But that doesn’t mean I had anything to do with it, if that’s what you’re trying to imply.”

“Well, it was quite a coincidence then.”

“Stranger things have happened,” she replied, taking another reflexive look at Jack.

This time, Tommy followed her gaze, narrowing his eyes at Jack. “What do you keep lookin’ at him for?” he asked. “Have you got somethin’ to say?”

Breathing shakily, Jack scowled at him. “No. I don’t.” 

“No?” He scoffed and pushed himself off the wall, turning his back on Lilly to march closer to Jack. “You sure had a lot to say to me before she showed up.” He nodded over his shoulder at her. “Where’d all that nerve go?”

Jack shifted on his feet, his stomach lurching as he recalled all that he’d unwittingly said when he first confronted the man. Fighting to keep his anxiety from showing on his face, he searched his head for a response. But with Tommy’s unwavering, suspicious gaze boring into him, he struggled to come up with anything. 

He wondered how Lilly had managed to keep as cool as she did when he was staring down at her— maybe it was just because she knew him better. He peered over Tommy’s shoulder and looked at her, widening his eyes in a silent plea for help. 

Catching on to his signal, she put her palms up and motioned for him to stay calm. Then, with repeated glances at her brother to make sure he didn’t notice, she waved her hands and mouthed the words, “Change. The. Subject.”

Without thinking, Jack nodded at her, kicking himself for doing so when the gesture caused Tommy to look back at her. In a quick motion, she dropped her arms back down to her sides, acting as if their exchange hadn’t happened. When his gaze returned to Jack, the suspicion in his eyes had deepened. 

Heeding Lilly’s advice, Jack steeled his face and said in as flat a tone as he was able, “Are you gonna be leavin’ soon? We need to get back to work.”

For a second, Tommy seemed caught off guard by the response. Then, he gave a derisive chuckle. “Work, huh?” Taking a step back from Jack, he took another brief look around the ranch. “It sure doesn’t look like you’ve been doing much work.” He threw his half-spent cigarette down onto the porch, crushing it underneath a shiny, pristine shoe. “This place is a dump.”

Jack's face grew hot with anger, and he balled up his fists. This piece of shit was asking for it at this point…. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to knock his ass to the ground right then.

He opened his mouth to argue, but Lilly cut in to break them up. “All the more reason we should get back to it,” she said, grabbing Tommy’s shoulder from behind and pulling him until he faced her. “Everything’s fine, Tommy, honestly. You can go home now.”

He shrugged her hand off and pursed his lips, glaring at her with such intensity that it looked like he thought he could read her mind if he tried hard enough. She crossed her arms and frowned at him, holding his gaze for several seconds before faltering.

Then, to Jack’s surprise, Tommy’s demeanor suddenly softened, and a genuine look of concern appeared on his face, lasting only for a brief second before he wiped it away. “No,” he said quietly, folding his hands behind his back. “I’m afraid I can’t.”

Lilly sighed impatiently. “Why not? What—”

“Because,” he cut her off, “like I said, I wanted to make sure you’re okay. And so far”— his voice became strained, and he shot Jack another suspicious glare— “I’m not so convinced that you are.”

Jack glared back at him, resenting the implication that he was some kind of threat to Lilly. He hadn’t done anything to harm her nor had he even considered doing so.

“I am,” she said. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Tommy studied her for another moment before muttering, “Prove it.”

His words seemed to startle her a bit, but with only a brief hesitation, she stuck her chin up and said, “Y’know what? Fine.” She threw her hands up in defeat. “If you wanna hover around like a paranoid freak, be our guest. Just stay out of the way.” 

Wait, what? Jack thought. She’s not really telling him he can stay, is she?

“Fine by me,” Tommy replied. “Wouldn’t wanna get too close anyway.”

Ignoring him, Lilly walked over to Jack and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it a little too hard. “Just pretend he isn’t here, okay?” she murmured in his ear. Her hand trailed down to his bicep, and she gently tugged on it, beckoning him towards the porch steps. “Come on. Let’s get back to work.”

Jack looked at her like she was out of her mind. How was he supposed to pretend he wasn’t there? How were they supposed to get back to work if this guy was intent on breathing down their necks the entire time? He was already stressed enough from cleaning out the barn; he didn’t need this too. 

He shook his head in disagreement, and Lilly gave him a look of pleading in response, her grip on his arm becoming tighter until it started to hurt. When he didn’t budge, she whispered, her lips barely moving, “Trust me.”

Tommy cleared his throat. “Is there a problem?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, keeping his eyes locked on Lilly, who continued to silently plead with him to just go along with it. Finally, he swallowed and gave her a short nod before addressing the man. “You heard her,” he mumbled gruffly. “Just stay out of the way.”

Tommy gave him a strained, sardonic smile and looked him over, scrutinizing him for what felt like the hundredth time. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Jack scowled in response, and Lilly grabbed hold of his wrist, tugging him off the porch and over to the chicken coop. Tommy followed after them, lagging several feet behind as Lilly picked up the pace, never releasing her grip on Jack.

As they neared the coop, she gave his wrist a hard squeeze. “Just stay calm and act normal,” she whispered, her breathing heavy. “He’s just overprotective. Show him there’s no reason to be suspicious and then he’ll go.” Stay calm and act normal, Jack repeated in his head. Because that’s always been so easy for him to do….

[hymnoeides]

Oh, my son

rkgk tonight playing around with some brushes and texture ^^

[sabh0]

Quick redraw of that one manga panel as a coping mechanism from the lack of new skk content

[lotus-pear]

the day i picked up dazai or smth idk i've never read it

[lucylucius]

AU where ellie has a dog 🐾

[basilpaste]

"It wouldn't feel right to... do this without giving us both some time, I think."

〔Sif looks away from you.〕

"But!" You stumble over the word, "Um! Later doesn't mean never!!"

〔You clumsily reach for one of your earrings and take it off. Even when you sleep, you wear studs. It feels kind of strange to go without!〕

〔You're not sure why you picked up the chain in the House. But... it gives you the chance to do this.〕

〔You hook it through one of the chain links and carefully slip on the back.〕

"So... until we're both ready. Until we know for sure! How about a promise?"

"A promise?" Sif echoes.

〔With all the caution in the world, you slip the chain around Sif's neck. They don't flinch. And... neither do you.〕

"A promise to come back to it eventually. We have time."

〔You do have time! Real, moving, twisting time! To think about things!!〕

〔Sif clutches the earring around his neck and smiles shakily.〕

"A promise."

[iooiu]

playing around with future donnie’s design and all i can say for sure is this:

1) lose an arm gain three

2) dies

[localicecreambiter]

ROUND 2 BABY!!!!

they gained melanin

There was gonna be a 6th, but I got lazy and didn't feel like replicating the lighting in that 3rd one sooo this post may be edited

edit for these two

@indigoartistqueen

[wildknives]

FOOLIN with colors for fanplaylist cover

[tangledinink]

if I have to deal with it!!!! THEY have to deal with it!!!!

[ the gemini ]

[foldingfittedsheets]

Oh my god, poverty brain makes big purchases so freakin scary. I know I need a laptop. I will have tons of downtime at work and I can't cart my three monitor gaming PC into work on slow days. So I need a laptop. I had some help picking a really good one and it's gonna do the stuff I need. But it's still such a big chunk of money. *Sweats* I have done it. But it was hard.

Luckily it sounds like my accommodation is getting reviewed for real this time and I should have more freetime at the small store and on my days off to take commissions again! I can also resume working on my comics as I've got a tablet going spare that I can take with, so all that is very exciting.

[flaming-snake]

funny reminder of the day: ootp Sirius and Snape arguing scene wasn't the first time Severus got screamed on by angry drunk man

[arsmentae]

Saw someone on reddit claim you can't draw with mouse so I wanted to draw smth with mouse

[bonefall]

Hey, what makes a character a 'plot device but not a character'? And how do you not do that? I'm trying to do it on purpose but also I need to still make them interesting because it's on purpose, yknow?

A good skill to pick up is to learn to criticise criticism itself. A "plot device" is simply a thing that moves the plot along, it's a neutral literary analysis term! Usually, when people are angry that "a character has been used as a plot device," it doesn't mean they hate plot devices. It means they're gesturing at something deeper.

Runningwind and Bumble are equally plot devices in their deaths. They are both killed by the antagonist to escalate political tension. Runningwind is rarely "accused" of just being a plot device, and yet, we're talking about Bumble for the same thing.

So, why?

Well, Runningwind is just a background character, but in life, he was a part of the community. He was characterized as impatient but responsible. Yet, he wasn't SO important that he died with a bunch of unresolved plot threads.

He is mostly an extension of the entity of ThunderClan. His killing by Tigerstar, and the fear and paranoia that settles on the group after this, feel like a progression of the story insteas of something forced.

Bumble, on the other hand...

Is hated immediately by Gray Wing, when she's established as Turtle Tail's friend. Bumble's abuse at Tom the Wifebeater's hands invites even MORE investment. The rejection is shocking and upsetting. There's a story there about our main characters being imperfect; jealous, bigoted, and judgemental.

But, she is simply killed off. Everything they set up for this character is gone with little personalized fanfare. It's not a tragedy with a lesson about cruelty, or something anyone regrets.

It's just... plot. Gray Wing whinging that no one will like his shitty brother now that his body count is 2.

More than that, in the discussion of women in particular, "Fridging" was coined to give a name to the way women characters often don't get their stories told at all. There is a CULTURAL trend of female characters facing disproportionate violence, for the sake of advancing male plots.

Bumble has a lot going for her. Petal had a lot going for her. Turtle Tail had a lot going for her. Bright Stream had a lot going for her. When they died, they took their potential with them.

It's not always wrong to kill off a character of high potential, mind you. In Gurren Lagann, Kamina's death is sudden and shocking, leaving a massive hole in the hearts of the cast that never heals. Grappling with that loss, but also letting his memory fuel them, is a major theme of that story.

All that to say... there's no formula for avoiding it. You've gotta identify what the deeper issue is, in your specific narrative.

I can't say for certain what that will look like for your story, but here's some things I keep in mind;

When you make characters who exist to die, make sure they're people before you axe them.

Ask yourself; what about them does the cast miss?

If they just miss them because they were (pre-existing relationship), go back to the drawing board.

Fluttering Bird as an example. Who was she? Dead sister. Why do they miss her? Dead sister. No traits until after her death.

Runningwind was short-tempered and helpful. Kamina was a valuable leader who made people believe in a brighter future. Swiftpaw was fiesty and desperate to prove himself. The better characterized, the more profound the loss usually is.

If this is a female character who is dying just to serve the plot, be aware of cultural bias and tropes. How is the gender ratio looking in your cast? Is this happening disproportionately with your girls?

Note how Quiet Rain's litter had both a boy and a girl, but the girl was chosen to be "weaker" and wither away.

And how most of the time in DOTC, whenever a man had to be upset, a girl would get killed for it.

If you ever feel like the character on the chopping block is NOT a full character, ask yourself why it needs to be a character at all. You don't need to spend narrative time building out someone when a literal object of high value might suffice.

"My sister died when I swore to protect her and I can't face my family" = Old. Tired. Ive seen this.

"I lost my heirloom sword when I swore to protect it and I can't face my family." = Fascinating. Why was the sword so valuable? Will they really not take you back? How did you lose it?

When you do kill off "high value" characters, try to make sure you're not leaving too many plot threads hanging. Or at least make a point of how they will never get closure.

[gatorasmus]

A man and his giant alien robot boyfriend...or a giant alien robot and his human boyfriend... meh, same thing

[inpolariis]

What could an Emperor possibly be afraid of?...