#semi happy ending

[haajenn]

I am reviving this old account and posting my art on here again. Hello! It's good to be home!

[missthrxn]

I mean I don't know no other ending....was there another ending?

Also Hedwig's alive fyi

fixed it

[cockybitch11]

Would yall read it if I posted one of my project books on here. I will write little short stories about them if you guys want me too but I just can't publish it yet so I might put it on here

[k1mbe3rly]

OK WE NEED A PART 3 OH THE SE-MI ANGST EXCEPT THEY MAKE UP AND GET INTO A RELATIONSHIP AFTER LIKE ONE MORE ARGUMENT WHERE THEY REALIZE THEY BOTH JUST WANT EACH OTHER

anything for bbg, part 3 of that’s so true

Run my hands thru her short dark brown hair.

no warnings, LOWKEY kinda shorttt but it’s okay cause it’s a happy ending

After awhile, Se-mi managed to get the courage and follow you on instagram, she watched herself as her thumb pressed “Follow”, she figured if she reached out first it would mean something to you maybe?

But for you, you couldn’t stop thinking about her, you thought you had moved on for good but I guess your boyfriend was just a distraction sadly.

You thought about more than ever, why did she have to come to your job like that? what made her do that. You wish you could just restart everything as you got a notification, you grabbed your phone looking at it

“Se-mi started following you.”

You read as a small smile creaked up into your face but you quickly stopped remembering everything that had happened, you sighed as you clicked on the app debating to follow her back or not but without thinking you quickly followed her back, you groaned at yourself as you sulked in bed.

You closed your eyes thinking about everything until again another notification interrupted you, you looked at your phone once again as you quickly squealed out.

“Hey y/n..can we talk?”

Was all you read from your phone, she messaged you.. she actually messaged you, it’s crazy to think that SHE would reach out first.

You decided to be a little nonchalant and wait like 2 or 3 minutes before answering, you replied back with “Talk about what?” you simply texted her.

Not long after she sent you another message.

Se-mi: “About what happened, please?”

You: “I guess so..”

Se-mi: “Can we talk in person? I just feel like it’s better to do it in person.”

You: “Fine, where at?”

Se-mi: “My place? if not it’s fine we can always go in public”

You: “No it’s okay i’ll be there in a few”

She hearted your message, as you smiled and let out a breath of relief.

You quickly got up and tried to put something cute, you than drove to her house excitedly as you parked infront of it, but before you went in you took a deep breath making sure you had a nonchalant face not wanting to ruin your cold don’t act.

You knocked on her door as she opened it quickly, “You actually came..” She said with a slight smile, All you did was nod at her as she opened the door wider gesturing you to come in, you walked in everything still familiar.

“Uh let’s go to the couch, do you want a drink or something?” She said, “No i’m fine” you replied, “Uhh i have your favorite?” she smiled a bit at you hoping to cheer you up just a bit, “I’m good.” You said a bit coldly as she sighed a bit and nodded.

Yall went and sat down on her couch which was always comfy but yet you were not going to give in just yet.

“So what did you wanna talk about?” you told her looking at her for a bit.

“I just wanna talk about us..i wanna fix this”

“What is there to fix?” you said back still not breaking your cold act.

“I know what I did was wrong and i regret it.. i really do, and i’m really sorry..I guess I just wanted to act cool infront of..that girl. By embarrassing you and I take back every word I said.” she said boldly as she stared into your eyes.

You stared back at her your gaze softened at her apology wanting to forgive her but not yet.

“Se-mi, i don’t know if I could forgive yo-.” you begin speaking but before you could finish she quickly spoke again.

“I know it’s hard to forgive me but i really am sorry! You have to understand that ever since that day i’ve been thinking about you and I feel so terrible about what i told you and if I could i’ll take it all back! i just wanna start over with you.” she said, “Your honestly everything I want.. and I know i didn’t act like it before but you really are! that night when you confessed to me..i was in denial i really was! but after our second argument just something inside me snapped.. i’m not sure what or even how it happen but y/n..i like you!” she yelled out basically, not once she broke eye contact, this whole time she’s been saying all this, she’s been staring at you.

You were at lost of words as you kinda stared back, you felt your cheeks feel hot as a small shiver ran down your spine, you finally spoke up.

“You like me..?”

Se-mi quickly nodded as she scooted to you a bit more, “And if it’s okay..can i do something?” she said as you turned your head for a moment then looked at her and nodded.

She leaned her head towards yours and kissed you.

You were frozen, you didn’t kiss back or even close your eyes, you sat there feeling her lips on yours, honestly your dream since you probably first met her but you finally came back to your senses and quickly backed up leaving her a bit shocked as she looked at you and gave you a small distance.

“Se-mi..i have a.. boyfriend” you told her, “Fuck..right i forgot, im sorry-.” she said as you cut her off.

You kissed her, she was shocked at first but quickly melted into the kiss, her hands going to your cheeks and rubbing her thumb a bit, lips moving in sync as you finally pulled back, she smiled at you and put her forehead against yours.

“So i’ll take that as you still like me?” she whispered to you as you just nodded, “And your boyfriend?” she spoke again, you sighed “I’ll have to break up with him obviously..” you told her.

“I don’t wanna rush things but..would you maybeeee wanna be my girlfriend? obviously after you break up with him! i mean i totally understand if you want a break!” she said quickly, “Just shut up.. and yes, i’ll be your girlfriend after i break up with him” you told her as you smiled and giggled a bit, she laughed a bit and hugged you as you hugged her back.

And boom just like that, yall started dating.

[intrepid-mystic-bindery]

I did a bind of all the bright places by @phantomphaeton and I'm pleased to announce that it is finished just in the nick of time to still be a 2024 bind! This was my first time using Affinity Publisher and boy howdy did we go round and round, but we got there in the end. 😮‍💨

As always I did an author copy, and as always I messed up the casing on one of them. Ah well. Live and learn? 🤷‍♀️

The idea behind the cover was for it to be Edwina's true colors being revealed by the tearing of the pink dresses she wore during her season. I couldn't get the pink to tear the way I wanted it to so a friend helped me come up with tearing the decorative paper instead. I think it turned out fabulously!

The end paper was beautiful but almost like cloth so I mildly panicked each time I had to glue it. I nabbed the chapter art from a book in the public domain, and let me tell you it was a ride trying to get all the chapter titles and subheadings in there. 😅

I'm super proud of the title page. I got a screenshot of the bangle falling during the wedding and it looks so good. 😭

For the half title page I tried my hand at a two page spread incorporating the chandelier, beach, and mango tree mentioned as some of Edwina's "bright places."

I love this fic so much and I was bound (hehe) and determined to cram as much symbolism as I could. Even the chapter pages are somewhat in reference to Friedrich saying he could walk forever in a garden full of thoughts of Edwina.

This is a beautiful fic, it was such a fun bind, and I have to shout out @purplephloxpress for the collab on the cover. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't given me this idea!

Phantom, dm me with details on mailing to you when you have them!

[clegfly]

Hi. Throws small self indulgent “mari actually IS something and after the true ending is able to get with hero via cleg logic I can’t be bothered to explain in a short funny description and oh god this is too long” au at you and runs into the woods

[lavenderjewels]

people are reading too much into kenjakus appearance this chapter and should instead be considering it as takaken being canon

[glucosegaurdian]

So I decided to re-listen to TMA to prepare myself for TMAGP and stumbled upon a beauty of a time-travel-fix-it-fic and the imagery and writing brain blasted me.

The fic is Jon goes back and gets a semi happy ending (as a treat) and I swear it’s my new favorite both for the dialogue and setup!

Anyway I threw my phone reading the below bit and I had to share the exert and a fan drawing both for my own sanity and to inflict others of course.

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

‘He stood there with a half-filled cereal bowl, the other half on the floor from his frantic jerking motions, and his hand on the handle. Now the smart thing to do would be to turn around, leave his apartment and crash on Georgie's couch until he could find a new place.

Unfortunately for him, Jon's curiosity won out in the end and he pulled the door open.

What greeted him was not something one would expect from a refrigerator, sure there was the regular stuff inside like milk, leftovers and other produce that would spoil if left to sit outside, however, the back of it had been replaced with a hallway. As if it was simply a doorway to the dimension beyond, except with small hinges on the right side, which meant the door that connected the hallway to the back was swung inward, his refrigerator was now a sort of bridge, connecting his apartment and the distortion’s hallway. And in the doorway was Michael, hands deep in some leftover potato salad Jon vaguely remembered buying and caught in the act of doing... whatever the distortion wanted his potato salad for.

Both of them stared at each other for a while, Michael was frozen in shock and Jon from bewilderment, until Jon eventually managed to gather his words.

"Could you pass the milk, please?"’

[bluehairperson]

Lady von Zarovich and her cringe fail boy toy dilf.

[mal1ntent]

Random qsmp eggs fun fact Tallulah's favorite lullaby is Jort Storm by Slimecicle because Phil would get lazy with tasks and play it instead of singing and Leo's favorite lullaby is Pac e Mike wow wow because Foolish would get lazy with tasks and play it instead of singing

[doggolol]

HE ALMOST SURRENDERS TO THE KISS

HE WAS SUPPOSED TO SURRENDER TO THE KISS

IM SOBBING

[sleepy-crypt1d]

the people have spoken!! (3 people) and now i shall be continuing my rambling about all the implications in COF that simon was a victim of CSA (and that his mom might be dead): an 8am caffeine induced word vomit post brought to you by a guy with over 80 hours in COF <3

under the cut because it's SUPER long.

Trigger Warnings for: talk of abuse, CSA, SA, obsessive behavior, suicide, death, and general COF fucked up-ness.

Not entirely sure on a place to start so I will begin with one of the more obvious places: the enemies.

Each enemy shows us something about Simon, either something overt that is shown to us through other aspects of the game, or things that dig deeper into his mind and point out stuff that we might not notice on a first glance.

For one, the Sewmo, an older male enemy that's bound in chains whose attack is licking the player. There are a handful of possible explanations for what the Sewmos could represent, but for this posts purpose it will be the obvious.

Simon having some sort of deep fear of an older man licking him in some way, a man who is bound in chains and is then released if hit. If defended against, breaks from his bonds and lashes him with a serpentine tongue. The visual of a balding, shirtless man licking Simon as a way of hurting him, of attacking him, is a visceral one that leaves very little in way of nuance to me.

These are an enemy that attacks you in groups and surrounds you in the dark, mainly being in the sewers and hiding in the shadows before stomping toward you. Whether this is a manifestation of someone he knows or simply the fear of older men, I'm not sure.

On top of this, there are also the Children. Enemies in the apartments that are mangled kids in trash bags, which could be read as how Simon sees himself. A child in a body bag that has broken from it's grave, or a way of showing how he feels about his own body, as something deserving of disgust. Something to be thrown away, a sense of revulsion that comes at the idea of one's own skin.

Now, for the most part, the Children enemies seem to be connected to the pedophile in the apartments, who we learn about through notes describing his fantasies surrounding the kids who live in the building. But this doesn't necessarily mean it doesn't have anything to do with Simon, due to the fact that I believe Simon and the apartment predator are connected in some way.

This is where we get very theory heavy- and I won't be surprised if not everyone follows but it's something I'd like to point out. A few things, actually.

For one, the predator in the apartments looks like Simon- if we are assuming the man who gets his head chopped off in the video tape we get from the basement is the predator, which here, I am- just older.

This is where I make the connection that this trauma could stem from his own father or someone he's related to but I know that that link is shaky at best and even I have my own doubts about it (especially since I'm pretty sure we see Simon's dad in game and the models don't look alike), but I figured it was still worth mentioning since the similarities between them are uncanny. The first time I played the game I thought that model was Simon, so the idea that it's the visual of someone related to him still sticks out in my mind as a possibility.

Even stepping away from the 'it was his dad' theory, Simon and the apartment predator are still connected, they still lived in the same building.

There's been a lot of debate on why these notes are in Simon's delusion, why he's seeing them outside of 'oh here's something scary we can put in'. Some people believe that maybe Simon knew about him being in the building, saw his victims or caught him in the act and didn't say anything, and this grew into a deep guilt for not doing so, and when presented with the idea that maybe Simon was a victim of the man in the apartments you usually get the argument that he would have 'aged-out' of his preference but I don't really agree, due to two things, one of which we have proof of and the other I am simply going to need you to believe me about.

The predator canonically lives in the same apartment as Simon after the accident. Simon moves there only after his accident, when he's lost the support of his family and friends and is forced out on his own, meaning he only lives there while in his wheelchair. And the man breaks the elevator in the game. He locks it in the basement, explaining in note #3 that the 'kiddies will just have to take the stairs' leaving Simon locked in his apartment on the third floor. Whether this was a real thing or not, it adds to this feeling of Simon feeling trapped with this man, stuck in place and unable to escape from a predator that haunts his building. There is a fear here, a genuine one, that implies him having been a victim. Either in the past, or now, at the hands of the man in the apartments. He is scared of his man, for one reason or another.

And for evidence of the previous point- he shows up outside Simon's apartment. We see him standing outside his door at one point in the game. At least, I think we do? This is gonna be a stretch and I could very well be wrong here but during my latest run through the game, in the section where you go back to the apartments to get the two fuses and finally go into Simon's roped off apartment- you see him. If you run up the stairs quick enough to the third floor where it's barred off he appears, for a split second, standing outside the apartment. Now, I could be wrong here! It might have been a different enemy that showed up, but I swear it was his model, with the black hair, white over shirt, and blue pants, standing there on the third floor right past the bars. It startled me so much that I paused the game and just sorta, sat there, because I wasn't sure if I actually saw him or not and I'm still not sure since I haven't been able to go back and check. But if I'm right then that's even more of a connection between these two, placing him right outside his door. Further showing us Simon's fear of being trapped, because during this part of the game, the elevator is gone and the entrance is the third floor is blocked off, leaving Simon no escape. He is trapped here, and the man is outside his door. (so small edit, I went back and replayed the game JUST to make sure and uh, yeah, he shows up. If we are to assume that the apartment predator is the model we see get his head cut off then yes, he shows up outside Simon's apartment for a split second during the game when you go back to get the fuses. If anyone wants like, proof of this I can try to get a recording but I PROMISE YOU he is there, adding more to the theory that Simon was assaulted by this man.)

I could also go into how Simon decorates his space as well, how barren his bedroom at his mom's house is, how cold and clinical it feels, as well as him straight up not having a bedroom in his apartment but that may just be a game limitation more than anything else?

Still, the added detail that the only space in Simon's apartment that has nothing in it is his bedroom is something interesting that I've never seen anyone mention. And you can't say it's because you never see it, because you do, you can go in there.

And it's empty.

His bathroom, which we only ever see in a cutscene, is furnished and modeled but his bedroom isn't. A room we physically go into, seeming to suggest that Simon just sleeps on his couch and spends all his time in his living room, which might explain why it's so dirty and disheveled when we see it.

But again, could be a game limitation, so I won't spend a ton of time on it. Instead, I'm going to shift to his relationships with other people. Specifically with Sophie, since I feel she gives a better read of how he sees personal relationships. But first I'll start with Purnell.

We see that Simon is distrusting of his doctor, antagonistic and refusing to open up about his home life. His friends and his school things that he won't touch when in session. Now, depending on which ending you get, changes Simon's opinion of the man. either someone who he apologizes to and praises for his attempt at helping him, or lambastes and curses for being incompetent.

His lack of trust in people, and his inability to feel comfortable around Purnell seems to wrap back around to my point made in the beginning: Simon seems to hold a fear of older men.

This fear could very much be manifesting in Purnell in his delusions, especially with him appearing as this dangerous force you are constantly chasing. And once you do catch up with him, his death is violent, it's personal. Simon stomping in his head with his heel born of a visceral hatred of the man. A desire to cave in his identity, to crush his skull and leave nothing but a bloody mess of the face he's been forced to stare at for hours at a time.

Alongside this is the note from the bowling alley which state "Something is off about Doctor Purnell" pointing towards other patients also feeling uncomfortable about him.

I'm not saying for sure that Purnell hurt Simon in any way, but I will point out here that- if you hit the bars of the gate Purnell is behind in the mental hospital enough times- one of his lines of dialogue is "Don't make me angry, Simon" which leads to an unpleasant visual of what their doctor - patient relationship is like in the real world.

Overall, I'd say that Simon's distrust of his own doctor and the image he paints of him in his delusion points to, if nothing else, Simon's aversion to older men.

Now Sophie is where it gets interesting.

Simon is obsessive, dangerously so, viewing Sophie on a pedestal above everyone else. Seeing her as his 'special person', his everything. He hinges his health and happiness on her, becoming overwhelming obsessed with the idea of them being together, going as far to write his happy ending with them together. His doctors even prohibit her from seeing him under the basis that she is bad for his progress, that she hinders his healing and sends him back into delusion.

In his confession, he corners her on the street, seeking her out and falling to his knees holding onto her desperate for her to listen to him, to hear him out, that if he tries hard enough she'll understand, she'll love him back, that he just needs to explain it better.

He's desperate for her, even going as far as to kill her in ending 2 to 'keep her all for himself', viewing violence as the final romantic act he can attempt. The final confession of his devotion. Seeing violence as love, killing her as the ultimate way to control her. You can never say her name without thinking of him, each thought of her memory now tainted with him, an eternal way to intertwine them.

This shows us how Simon sees love, romance in general, as something devastating. Something bloody and visceral. Something he yearns to have control over. Something he's been taught is violent.

There are a few ways to read this, the possibility of his mother in an abusive marriage and seeing how his father treats her, a possibility that his self-hatred leads to a desire to be together in death- saved from their pain together- or, in this reading, a twisting of his mind from a young age. Something that happened to him that created this view of love as obsessive, as painful, his desire to want to protect her stemming from his own victim-hood.

He's terrified of being alone, of being trapped in a body that he views as disgusting, trapped in a house he feels violated in and cornered by a man outside his door, resulting in a deep obsession with someone who makes it all go away, that makes him feel good. That brightens his day, so when she says no, he doesn't know how to handle it, and it gets twisted in his head that he just needs to convince her. Because if she doesn't love him, who will?

It's also possible that he was never in love with her, only thought he was, confusing platonic feelings and romantic feelings due to them being tangled in his brain. A possible symptom of CSA being a difficulty to distinguished between platonic, familial, and romantic feelings, resulting in a skewed perception of relationships.

His obsession with Sophie is a cry for help that goes unnoticed. He clings to her and destroys her in the process, unsure how to love without hurting someone, as he never has been. His brain desperate for connection, for friendship, but being unable to see friendship without love. Without sex. Unsure how to even grasp a relationship that isn't inherently harmful.

Kids who have gone through something as traumatic as CSA react in different ways, and to me, Simon's view of himself as a disease, his knee jerk reaction to push people away, his dirty bedroom and inability to feel romance without twisting it into something violent reads as someone who went through severe sexual abuse as a child and didn't have the words to put to it.

Wasn't told that what happened to him was bad, wasn't given the space to deal with those emotions or taught ways to heal from it, didn't grasp how much it hurt him until he had hurt someone else and had to see it in their eyes instead of through his own, as someone desperate to feel normal.

-

One last thing I'd like to touch on here- even if it is off topic, I mentioned it in my original post so why not- is the continued hint that Simon's mom is dead. Either leaving him in his father's care, or the reason why he moves into the apartments. This also adds to Simon's fear of abandonment. His sentiment of being lonely his entire life coming to a head with the death of the one person we know truly does love him.

In the apartments, there is the Drowned enemy, a ghostly figure that is suspended as if hanged that directs you to kill yourself if you look at her for too long.

Additionally, a baby bursts from her stomach and begins to stab you if you get too close- and this could be a reference to his mom, an older woman figure with long black hair that haunts you through the entire experience.

Now, I'm not entirely saying that the amount of 'pale ghost with long hair' enemies aren't just, references to The Grudge (since it's implied it's his favorite movie) but I'd like to ignore that in favor of theorizing for a moment.

(Though I am aware of the similarities don't worry. Especially the whole baby thing, if you've seen The Grudge 2 (which he literally has a poster of in his room like a dweeb) then you know exactly what I'm talking about. Weird movie. Go watch it. )

But following the idea that these enemies represent his mom, it gets darker as you venture into the forest sections. Namely, the Hanger enemy type.

The same ghostly women from before, clad in a white nightgown with long black hair that drops down from the trees with a scream and a noose around their neck. These enemies are also in the suicide hallways in endings 1-3, the bloody halls you have to parkour through to get to the sick Simon fight.

They are everywhere as the booming voice in the background screams and roars over itself 'kill yourself' and 'I'm sick'. It's not hard to imagine at all that these are his mother. Either having killed herself from the abuse at the hands of his father or after his accident, leading to him having to move out and find his own place- leaving him with the predator in the building.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but she's texting him? how could she be dead?' and here I would like to posit the idea that his mother acts as a call to the void type character.

A voice urging him to the other side, a gentle sway coaxing the gun to his head. Which could also explain why the Drowned enemies attempt to get you to kill yourself.

Simon taking his own life as a way to reunite with his mother, someone who we see deeply cared about and loved him, a calming voice throughout the runtime of COF that grounds you. Simon's breaking voice calling out for her when he get to his house also implies a disconnect, an empty house with a made bed and dust covered furniture that he weeps at. He's returning to a void. A comforting mirage that once held the things he loved.

His mother is never mentioned in any of the endings, neither is his father, the only hint towards their existence being his mention of how his family abandoned him in ending 2 but still his parents are not mentioned by name. He's alone at the end of this story. Just as he started it.

Overall, Simon is a kid who, no matter how you read the story, has experienced severe trauma all throughout his life. Whether you read it as him having been assaulted, his mother taking her own life, him living under an abusive father or simply being a kid riddled with depression and severe psychosis- he is a wounded mind. Someone who has been fucking through it, and I think there are several things that imply he's been through more than the game lets on.

The Sewmo's violating attack to the visual of children in trash bags and the continued theme of Simon feeling trapped at the hands of a predator are things that linger through the entirety of Cry Of Fear and to me, at the very least, make a very compelling argument for Simon having been a victim of CSA.

-

I hope this wasn't too confusing to follow? I haven't slept and am hopped up on caffeine right now so it might be a little all over the place. I've been working on this for like, two hours? and I think my brain is scrambled.

I'm sure I missed a few details here and there that also point towards this theory and if you have anything you noticed that I didn't, feel free to send me an ask about it! Analyzing this game and digging into the meat of it's story is really interesting to me and I think there are dozens of ways to interpret it's enemies and reoccurring themes. This is just one of them.

Also, this is coming from personal experience, as someone who has been through some shit in his life this is just how I see his trauma and how it could manifest. I understand that not every victim is going to see themselves in Simon or agree with this post or how I phrased things and that's entirely okay, this is simply my lived experience and how my trauma has effected my life.

I had some trouble with articulating some of my points, especially around Sophie, so I'm hoping it's still like, intelligible ya know? Mainly my point with her is that, him being so lonely, and with his view of affection stemming from a place of violation, he has a hard time feeling emotions that are not all consuming. Either extreme anger or extreme devotion, he flips between the two constantly throughout the game. He wants to keep her to himself, have her be completely his, he doesn't have a healthy view of romance and this could VERY likely be because he is a victim of CSA. That shit fucks with you and your perception of what a healthy relationship is.

Point is? get this guy a fucking break.

[panicked-herb]

Fionna and Cake Episode 2 Spoilers

You don't understand. It's all the same for me. Everyday is just an unending slog towards … towards what?

[sulky-cabbage]

You know what's sad? Sukuna probably knows about Satoru's situationship with suguru, he was with kenjaku the whole time since gojo got unsealed, he must have asked Kenjaku how the fuck did he manage to seal Gojo.

Poor guy, he was dead for a thousand years and just got reincarnated a couple months ago, met his soulmate (gojo), promised to kill him (for love), found out gojo is in love with someone else and got sealed because of this love, had to fucking wait for him to get unsealed so he can kill him, and then had to wait again because gojo wanted it to happen on the same day he killed geto, like😭😭 and now Sukuna is probably gonna die and go back to hell...

What a sad life man...

He already had a terrible first life that turned him into a curse.

Like seriously, When Sukuna dies who is going to welcome him in the afterlife? Gojo is already with geto & the others.

Is Sukuna even going to the same place?

Is he going to die alone??? Is he gonna just.. rot in hell?? he really has nobody that's so sad

Stsg is tragic but Sukugo is even more so.

They're on complete opposite sides, They don't even get to meet in the afterlife!! they're literally star-crossed lovers.

Satoru what are you doing you're letting nostalgia blind you, WAKE UP your real soulmate is Sukuna.

you wanted someone to understand you for so long, now you're just gonna give up on him??? leave him all alone for eternity???

What happened to not wanting anyone to feel alone???

[ratlezbian]

Feeling like I got punched in the throat with these clexa and caitvi paralells in the good year of 2024

[bluecanvasshoe]

I'll Never Get Out of This World Alive

Chapter 5 of Everything Eats and is Eaten (Time is Fed)

Red Dead Redemption 2 x reader

Warnings: Animal death, blood, panic attacks, ptsd?, guns, alcohol relapse, trauma, passing out, drunk people, angst in general

Summary: You desperately keep your mind off of the gang, but bad things seem to follow you regardless. You lose a lot, but maybe you gain some, too.

Word count: 2.7k

Title from 'I'll Never Get Out Of This World Alive' by Hank Williams

Previous chapter | Next chapter

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry this took a while. My lungs decided to stop working and one of my pets died, so I've been struggling to write. Hopefully we like this one!

----

Days had passed.

Your back is killing you, and the insides of your thighs are irritated from constant riding. 

The gang still plagued your thoughts, but it became too painful to think about. Anytime they’d weasel into your brain, your mind would shut everything out again.

The weather was a gamble each day; the damp forests of West Elizabeth were rainy and cold. The trees would act as a canopy from rainfall, but thick branches would become heavy with rain and dump whatever water they'd been holding onto you and your horse. Thanks to the late spring season, mosquitoes terrorized you constantly. Irritated red bumps came and went on any exposed skin.

Past the forests of West Elizabeth were the Heartlands, a dusty, dry environment. 

Valentine was a nice break from the riding, and you managed to get a hotel room, a bath, and a hot meal for a night before having to move on. You would’ve taken odd jobs to earn a bit more money, but a strange, frantic anxiety tugged at your heart; you couldn’t waste more time than you already had.

And now, here you are. Riding through the Heartlands to Lemoyne.

Your eyes hurt, and the sun has only just reached the middle of the sky. You almost feel nauseous, something in you begging to stop. But when you do, your heart starts beating that frantic rhythm, and you can’t seem to sit still.

Your horse is likely tired, but he’s been treated kindly; frequent stops for water and a near-constant stream of treats or food kept him in higher spirits than you.

When you were forced to spend a night resting, he’d keep you company by nudging your shoulder and huffing. You’d feed him an apple or an oatcake as a treat, satisfying the horse.

The days dragged on, and your mind grew incredibly weary.

Still, as you saw dry ranch country turn to rolling meadows, it was hard to deny how beautiful the scenery was.

An old, crinkled map was held in your hands. You had to keep an eye out for landmarks, anything to help you guide yourself to Saint Denis as fast as possible. 

Birds chirped too loud, and the occasional yowl of a fox was heard. Your horse’s hooves languidly hit the ground, steadily carrying you closer to Saint Denis. 

Your gear clinked and jostled with each step, the sound practically becoming background noise.

You tried to distract your exhausted mind with songs, but couldn’t remember much past the first few lyrics of most. Your head fell forward, and you blinked yourself awake. 

Your horse grunted, huffing with a flip of his mane. Your head lifted, the aching vertebrates of your neck supporting your overly heavy noggin.

Just a bit longer, you told yourself.

—

It was getting close to dusk, and the lights of a town entered your vision. It was Rhodes; you were undoubtedly close to Saint Denis.

With a click of your tongue and a gentle nudge of your spur, your horse quickened his pace.

You neared the small town, the sound of crickets mingling with faint chatter. Streetlights lined the main road, and cute buildings framed the paths. Reaching the red, dusty paths of Rhodes, you froze.

A white building stood not far away.

You walked past that one a few years ago.

You remember looking at that building.

You distinctly remember hearing a gunshot, and a whir of red cross your vision. Something hit the ground, a bag of bones and flesh.

Your body tensed, knuckles turning white and clenching your horse’s reins. Your already frazzled mind was startled when the sound of a boot hit the ground, and it instinctively urged your hand onto where the holster of a gun would be on your belt; if you’d bought a revolver, that is. 

Your head snapped to the side, surprising an approaching man. Frantic eyes darted around.

Your chest heaved, your vision caving in as white crept in around your eyes. Your hands trembled and your heart beat horribly fast. Everything suddenly felt too close, and you had trouble focusing your eyes.

The man in front of you waved his hand. “Howdy, miss, er, I’m not quite sure how to say this, but have we met before? You seem awfully familiar.”

“Met before…?” you muttered.

Shit. He remembers you from when the gang shot up the town in 1899.

He’s getting the law. They’re probably close, with their shotguns and horses and you’ll be put up in the gallows. You’ll die here or rot in prison. 

You idiot.

It’s your fault that you’ve been caught; maybe you shouldn’t have come here. 

This is a nightmare. This isn’t happening.

“Miss?” He said. You couldn’t make out his expression; everything was a blur.

A door opened not far away; bar music stopped. Glass broke. Men shouted at each other.

At you?

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t talk; everything mixed together. White clouded your vision, your eyes hazy. Nothing is processed through your brain. Not the desperate command you gave your horse nor the worried call of the man behind you. Dust kicked up as your horse grunted; that didn’t register, either.

You blinked, and you were suddenly riding as fast as you could. Pitch dark surrounded you.

Distant shouts were heard in the background; from what, you couldn’t make out. Only one thing was on your mind; the law was coming.

You looked over your shoulder, and your horse hit a tree. You were sent tumbling, rolling on the ground amidst soil and brush. 

After a moment, your limbs began to work again. A horrible ache resonated through you, your stomach and lungs empty as you gasped for air.

“No, no, no,” you muttered, getting to your feet and running to your horse.

You could barely walk as your legs shook violently. You stumbled to the ground, crawling the rest of the way toward the horse lying on the soil. Trembling, unsteady hands roamed his neck and eventually his head, eyes zeroing in on the blood spilling.

Your ears hardly picked up how the pained cries of the animal died out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” you chanted, your voice coming out as a choked plea. 

“What do I- what do I do? I can’t…” you heaved, hands clammy.

You leaned forward, resting your head against the horse’s shoulder. Your mind raced, and you could barely think. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Nausea crept up your throat, and you had to look away. Gathering your things as fast as possible, you stood and ran.

You stumbled over tree roots and uneven terrain, branches and plants brushing at your ankles. You’d usually jump in surprise, but your heart is pumping too fast and too hard to make out any sensation other than the desperate flutter in your stomach.

Your legs gave out not five minutes later, leaving you defenseless, exhausted, and hurt on the forest floor.

You became lightheaded, unable to bring in enough air.

Your hands grasped at your throat, and it suddenly felt like your lungs were choking themselves.

You wheezed violently, but air refused to go further than your mouth despite the quick succession of your breaths.

A hand searched for something; you didn’t know what. 

Your body hit the ground.

—

When you awoke, your head felt as if it had split open. Like you had been pelted at the earth, a stone cracking your skull and crushing your bones.

You sit up with squinted eyes and quickly realize you’re in a forest; how did you get here?

Looking to the ground, you spot your bag and rifle. Thank god.

The sounds of nature surround you as if you hadn’t existed there at all; birds chirped and animals yowled, running across the forest floor. Sunlight filtered in through tall, leafy trees and hit the ground in dotted shadows. 

Stumbling to your feet, you gasp in surprise when a sharp pain shoots up the bone of your ankle, sending you down again. A memory comes back to you; white creeping around your vision and overwhelming dark, black night. You trip over a tree root but keep running anyway. There’s no pain.

You groan, your upper body hitting the ground again. 

Your horse. 

You run your dirtied hand down your face; it hardly matters, considering you likely have a week’s worth of sweat, dust, and who knows what else covering your body. It was your fault; of course it was. You did something stupid. You’re paying the price.

Getting up carefully to avoid irritating your ankle, you grab your bag and decide to find a road. It doesn’t take long to find a dirt path next to a rolling meadow with fresh horse tracks; hopefully, it was used often.

Your prayers are answered when a young man comes riding on a shoddy cart, a shire pulling the wagon. The wheels clatter as they roll, the links and parts of the horse’s tack clinking like bells or a ring of old keys.

“Sir!” you wave him down, balancing on one foot to the best of your ability.

He slows the large horse with a click of his tongue, appraising you with scrutiny. He scrunches his large nose, his mouth curving downwards. His cheeks are covered in sunburn-afflicted freckles, a tan covering the high planes of his face. A brown hat sat upon tawny hair. “You alright there?” He asks.

“Um, yeah,” you mumbled, looking back at the forest briefly. “Look, sir, my horse, uh… you see, he died a little further... in the forest, and I need to get to Saint Denis. Are you heading in that direction?” you sounded more desperate than you preferred, your voice more pleading than it was asking a polite question.

He looked at the back carrying splintered crates and labeled burlap sacks, sighing before shuffling to the side. “I’ll getcha there,” he nodded. 

You loaded the small bag and rifle you had onto the seat, stepping up and into the rickety driver’s bench. “Thank you, sir,” you smiled, though you’re sure it came off as more of a grimace.

You probably smell awful; you probably look awful, too. 

The closer you get to Saint Denis, the swampier the air is. Maybe the stench can cover you? Are you really that bad?

…Probably.

An awkward silence falls upon the two of you, occasionally jostling and bumping into each other within the tight confines of the bench. 

“So, uh… Why’re you headin’ to Saint Denis?” The man awkwardly piped up, not looking away from the beige, dusty road.

You blink for a moment, your brain processing at the speed of a snail. “I’ve got some family. A distant uncle,” You settled upon the idea of estranged relatives, hoping he’d buy it. He seemed to be convinced if the nod and an absence of suspicion was something to go off of.

“I see. Um, my pa’s got a sister who lives there. I’ve hardly met her, can’t say I’m looking for her.” He said, adjusting the hat on his head. Sunlight shined upon your backs, heating up the top of your scalp uncomfortably.

You sighed, brushing your hair back in hopes that it’d lay flat. “Why not?” 

“I ain’t ever met her.” He shrugged. “My name’s Martin.”

You nodded at his introduction, your hands settling upon your knees. You introduced yourself, clearing your throat. 

The conversation between the two young adults soon flowed into something comfortable, a nice distraction amidst a warzone of a mind.

Fields and meadows surround you and the boy, golden sunlight bringing out hidden hues of trees and flowers. It’s peaceful.

—

The smoke-filled streets of Saint Denis soon enveloped you. A faint haze of grey shrouded the city you came to hate, the smell of smoke and sewers filling your aching sinuses.

“I’ve never liked this place,” you said, shaking your head.

Martin tilted his head. “Really? I’m not against bein’ in the big city.” His voice carried an indifferent lilt as he shrugged.

“It’s not that I hate cities,” you corrected, looking at the working-class folks who wandered the streets. “I just hate the atmosphere of this city in particular.”

“Hate’s an incredibly strong word,” Martin pointed out, almost sounding cheeky. “Are you sure it ain’t a subtle dislike? You can’t hate it.”

“I do hate it.” You insisted, watching the people go about their lives.

Some swept streets, and others took a smoke break from their smoke-filled factory jobs. Haughty men on horses occasionally passed by, his lips turned in a grimace as he looked upon those he deemed less than himself; he who works four days a week and sips tea from delicate china. The muddy streets squelch and it’s a wonder how no one loses their footing. Big, proud signs and murals display the names of companies, their establishing dates set an unimpressive twenty years prior.

Martin stops, pulling to the side of a polluted street. “I ought to drop all this off. I’ll leave you here.”

Gathering your things hastily, you step down from the wagon and look back up at him with what you hoped was a grateful look. “Thank you, Martin. I uh, I really do appreciate your help.” 

“Don’t thank me, miss, it was nothin’. Good luck findin’ your uncle.” He replies humbly, clicking his tongue with a small flick of the reins. The large shire horse begins walking again, its steady gait carrying them away and down the corner of a street.

You look around where you were dropped off, vaguely remembering how to navigate the muddy labyrinth. The lonely grey of the sky presses upon the looming structures of connected buildings, the sad atmosphere of workers weighing on you almost immediately. With a sigh from your nose, you turn and set off to find the nearest bar.

Just this once, you tell yourself. Just one time, you’ll be fine.

—

You have hardly any money in your bag anymore.

The bartender scoffs, his lips curled in disgust as he ushers you from the warmly lit bar. You stumble onto the streets, swirling vision and muddled mind altering your surroundings. Sunlight invades your eyes.

You lean against a wall, ignoring the awful ache of your ankle as you try to collect your thoughts.

God dammit. Charles is waiting!

Your heart rapidly increases its beating, and you push yourself from your support.

You stumble down cracked and uneven sidewalks, vaguely remembering the area in which the fighting ring was reported.

Your confused, hazy mind gets you there, and totally not because you stopped multiple strangers on the road and asked for directions.

You find a white-bricked building, a path curving around it. Tripping through, you’re met with a rotting, wooden apartment and staircase, the ground packed with dirt and framed by flimsy fencing.

A muffled shouting comes from further down, and you get yourself there after ignoring the shouts of strangers around you.

Shouting? 

The law?

Nah. Probably not.

“Charles!” You call, your voice slurred.

A crowd fills your vision, men erupting into a cacophony of cheers for a person beyond your sight. Another, however, takes your attention.

Your befuddled mind couldn’t believe what it was seeing.

Charles was speaking to a man. He was a little ways away from the onlookers, their backs turned. 

“You’re a killer, Charles. Remember that.” a man with a moustache said, a hand on your old friend’s shoulder. Upon hearing footsteps, the stranger giving the pep talk narrowed his eyes that landed on you. “I’ll… be off now…?” He said, turning away and walking towards the loud group.

Charles sighs before noticing you. 

“Charles!” you cheered.

His eyes widened, and he said your name with an air of disbelief; said shock quickly morphing into exasperation and his own kind of worry when you threw yourself at him.

“Charles! I’ve been- Charles, I’ve been looking for you, Charles,” you smiled lopsidedly, looking up at the long-haired man. He furrowed his brows, unsure of what to do. 

Carefully pushing you off of him, he sighs.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, surely recognizing you. “Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I’m not,” you slur, shaking your head with a goofy expression.

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, grabbing one of your shoulders and guiding you away from the crowd. He stopped at some crates, putting on a blue shirt and a leather vest. Another man wearing a brimmed hat approached him. They exchanged words your brain couldn’t quite process before Charles turned back to you.

He led you outside the alleyway, stopping when you crouched down unexpectedly.

“What? Are you alright?” He asked, bending at the waist.

You don’t remember anything after that.

---

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