#tw usage of sociopath

[imgoingtomakeproblemsonpurpose]

I don’t know how to say this properly (this is a vent post I guess) so feel free to correct me, but

If someone says they know enough about “sociopathy” then that kinda shows they know nothing about “sociopathy”.

Cuz why the fuck are they still saying “sociopath”, huh?

Also being abused by a “narcissist” and “sociopath” doesn’t give anyone a free pass on using diagnoses as an insult (Doesn’t that make it a slur?)

I will also doubt the validity of that claim.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 2

You listen to the story about those woods. Turns out, real life is way, way nastier than any of those stories. Don't lose your head.

TW for the chapter: Blood, gore, dead bodies, slut shaming(usage of outdated horror tropes), knife play, blood play, mentions of STDs

— Do you know what animal is this? 

The body of a small creature – rodent, probably, you don’t think there could be any other animals around – was lying on the road near the place you decided to stay for the night. The “Coolest fucking thing in the world that is also just a few hours from here” was still a few hours from here because it was fucking dark and you already left your car on the sidewalk, hoping no one would steal it because honestly, why would anyone need this pile of burning crap. 

— According to the “Basic Bestiary of Austrian Animals” it might be an extremely rare Austrian Marmont.

You fucking hated Max. Mostly because his form of being different was “being an intelligent asshole” and also because he would never forget to rub the fact you were behind him in the grades into your face. 

— Waaaaaaait, a mamont? But it’s small! You have to give Karen – blonde, tan, tall, straight C everywhere except for her chest (then it would be D everywhere) – credit. As adorably silly as she was, she was still the only person you could have a meaningful conversation with. Except for the times when she was fucking your boyfriends. Or when she forgot that you don’t have a boyfriend so he doesn’t need to fuck random people just to spite you.

— Perhaps, if we are extremely lucky, a European edible dormouse, also known as…

— Fuuuuuck, people eat this thing? Yuck! Austria is like, literally the worst country EVER!

You feel like every second of this conversation, even though you are just listening to it, is going to take 10 years from your life span. You never knew why the two got together – maybe because Max loved fucking someone dumber than he is, and Gretchen loved placing the responsibility for her actions on her beloved sociopathic boyfriend. 

You wanted to say that this was literally a fucking squirrel, but you know better. Not like anyone is going to listen anyway. 

You get to the supposed location a few hours – already deep in the night, everything that you hate about forests – unkept environment, horrible living conditions, mosquitos, and occasionally wild animals are making you squirm each time your butt switches the place and you involuntarily sit on the cold, damp ground. You lick your lips, trying to adjust in the position in front of the fire. Fire that you probably shouldn’t be making in the middle of the private territory, but Chad said the place belongs to some weird hillbillies who wouldn’t care about a bunch of college grads having fun. 

You just finished the last of your coke – mixed with cheap whiskey and rum you got back at home, you feel just buzzy and fuzzy and relaxed enough to at least try to engage with people around you. Just didn’t want to make Jenny embarrassed – she was the one to vouch for you, even though you didn’t want to go camping with them. 

— I heard there is something happening in these woods. 

Everyone around you groans and you comply, groaning too. Chad has the worst storytelling voice and even Marty – the resident stoner of the group – is visibly unhappy about having to listen to his dumb jokes. Brace yourself for at least twenty minutes of dumb story with a cheap attempt to scare you. 

— You talk like those locals. What can be here except for drunkards? 

— Very fucking funny, Marty, I hope you laugh at people’s death too. 

Everyone groans again. 

— Shut up and let me finish! So, there is something hiding in those woods…legends…

— What legends? This place was built like 20 years ago. 

— Shut the fuck up, Max! It’s the legends before the town even was built. In those very forests…

— Forests? I thought it was like, just a suburban area. 

— It’s wild Austrian woods, why I would put you to adventure in the fucking suburbs? 

— You’re a suburb baby. 

— Shut it! God, I hate you guys. Alright, so…these woods are populated with…creatures. 

— Ooooh, like the mammoth we saw! 

— Karen, seriously, what the fuck? These woods are filled with motherfucking human-eating killers, not just some animals! 

— Then why do you say “creatures”? — Because it makes for a good fucking story! God, everyone, this is why none of you are studying creative writing! 

— Only your parents have money to pay for it. 

— This is why you all are fucking losers. Alright…god, I hate you. People went missing in these woods. Mostly tourists, never the local population – this is why police don’t care about it. Bodies were found, half-eaten, rotting under that very tree! 

— Which tree? There are like 10 of them just here. 

— More like 100. 

— Under every fucking tree! — That’s a lot of bodies. 

Chad groans, visibly aggressive. You just tilt your head to the side, only talking to him once before taking the last sip of your Coke and standing from your place. You wanted to take a chance to see those woods before you’d be going even deeper the next night – Chad was planning quite an adventure in the wilderness, to your dismay, and you wanted to have a chance to see the cool part of nature before you would grow tired of it. 

To your surprise, Karen was nowhere to be seen. Knowing the girl, she is far too innocent and dumb to be here – probably ran away to not listen to scary stories or got lost while trying to find a good place to pee. You sigh, feeling that it is your responsibility to pick her up – she is Marty’s girlfriend, but he is too stoned out to notice her disappearance yet. 

You stumble on your foot – alcohol makes you dizzy, makes you relaxed and smiley. You don’t even care that no one came to ask what the fuck you are doing – as far as you aware, they all can go and fuck themselves while you have a lot more fun things to do. Like searching for a drunk girl in the forest in the middle of the night…yeah, you really should work on your definition of fun. 

You already a good few minutes into the forest. Nothing but trees, not even a squirrel or a wolf pocking around to feast on yummy bodies. Not like you wanted to see a wolf, of course, but meeting with the wild life could be fun. You’d like to see a bear, for example. 

(And you will – just a bit later) 

— Karen? Karen, are you alright? You decide to scream for her once you are far enough from your friends that they won’t question why you are so concerned for her. Poor girl was obviously scared and you didn’t want to embarrass her even further, so you stroll through the woods, an empty bottle of coke in your hand – not sure why you didn’t threw it away. Littering isn’t nice, after all. 

— Karen? You’re scaring everyone, come out! 

You scream some more – she is probably lost, deep enough that she can’t even hear you. You try not to panic, try to be the reasonable friend – it’s usually Jenny’s task but here you are, trying to be the cool one of your friend group. You yell for Karen some more, listening closely to every little sound that could be easily taken as her whimper or cry for help. 

Nothing. 

Just how far can a scared drunk girl go? Probably not further away than you – you’re already starting to get tired and you knew that Sidhey got far drunker than you are. Which means she could lay here, somewhere, passed from the exhaustion, freezing, with forest animals feasting on her…no, no, you can’t think like that. She is fine, she has to be, or you are going to get into so much trouble with the police and her parents. You never told any of your families about the trip, so you wouldn’t want to get in trouble what ould require their assistance. 

You take a step into deeper part of the forest – and you think you saw a glimpse of…something. Metal, probably, might be her phone or that atrociour hair dye she is using to stop everyone from calling her a mouse. You also think you could hear a sound of someone breathing – heavily, gruffly, definitely a male, but you don’t really know how. You squint, trying to see through the trees. 

You see Karen. 

— Karen? God, you scared everyone…well, me. Where the fuck have you been? 

You smile and wave at her, your drunken state isn’t allowing you to see that, for some weird reason, she isn’t waving back. Or moving, so to speak. She stared at you with that terrified expression of hers and you tilt your head to the side, not udneratanding why is she like that. Something happened between her and others? 

You take another step back and Karen falls. 

Well…her head falls, anyway. 

There are a lot of feelings right now. Panic, panic, panic, a little bit of panic and, oh, who could have guessed, another riel of panic which makes you freak the fuck out and sprint – towards her. Maybe she will be alive if you could put her head back on her neck really-really fast? 

— Is it too late to convince you this is all a dream? 

The voice. 

You don’t recognize it – it’s distorted and quiet under the mask and you don’t know anyone int his fucking place anyways. The voice is weirdly happy, weirdly laughing and you want to vomit from how easy-going it sounds. Like the corpse of your beheaded friend is nothing, like it’s a fun pun, like…

You laungh forward, trying to, maybe, get revenge on your not-really-a-friend. Guy lets go of Karen’s body, allowing it to fall down, her head rolling to the nearest creek and tumbling into the water like a sports ball. You can’t even sob – the situation feels too unreal, too shocking, you are still very much drunk and when the guy simply wraps his hands around your waist, not allowing you to move even an inch, you fall limp in his hold. 

You sob. 

His hand goes to grasp your face in a tight embrace, making you gag from the smell of blood splattered all across his hand. You hear chuckle. 

— Didn’t want you to see that first. Wanted to play hero, yes? 

You sob, you tremble, you can barely master a few words out of your mouth. You want to scream, but it’s like all the air just decided to disappear from your lungs. So, you cry instead. How brave of you, Karen would be so proud of her friend not even trying to avenge her death. 

— F…fuck…you. 

You master with all you strength. Guy is laughing again – his other hand goes to squeeze your waist even more, pushing you against a tree. He wears a full mask with some red drawings on it – a satanic cult, really? You thought about serial killer, maybe, but definetly not about crazy cult maniacs running around. The more you know. 

— Oh, kitten, I’d love to fuck myself. But you’re here for this, no? 

He called you kitten – you squirm in his grasp, not wanting to give him the easy way to kill you. Something pokes you to the side – it’s a knife. Large, sharp, military-issued, you saw it in movie and action TV shows – and now the bloody razor almost grazing over your skin, through the thing fabric of your open jacter and a simple T-shirt. 

— Wh…who are you? 

Stpuid question, really. 

— Why does everyone wants to ask who we are all the time? Would you die happier knowing my name? Would it help you escape knowing how many beauty marks I have?

It would certainly help the police if you were to survive the encounter. Even though you are certainly going to die right next to Karen over there. 

He pushes a knife towards your side, the blade cutting through fabric easily, You brace yourself for being gutted alive. 

— I don’t like stupid questions. Ask something wrong and I will see if you are as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside. 

In a normal situation, you would punch him for such a corny joke. But you’re too drunk for this, but you’re too exhausted for this, but you just want to curl away in some nice place and fucking die, but not because he was the one to kill you. You certainly do not want to give him the satisfaction of being the one for you. 

So, you feel your cheeks heating up with the faintest of blushes. 

— What are you going to do with me?

He pushes the knife deeper, sharp edge cutting the thin line into your side. You sob immediately, tears filling your eyes as you almost feel blood – not a lot of it, just a tiny sharp streak – fill your shirt. You want to vomit, hate pain, and everything that is related to it. Thinking that the knife is dirty already and he would probably infect you with whatever one of the 13 STDs Karen has if he were to proceed. He stops right before the blade can penetrate your skin. 

— I’m a serial killer. What do you think I will do with you? 

You shake your head, trying to search for the question that won’t make him plunge a knife into your body. 

— W…what is your favorite color? 

Good job. Amazing job. Let’s hope you don’t like your liver all that much because he is definitely going to cut it out and eat it. 

— Red. I like you. 

Suddenly, you are being pushed to your knees. Suddenly, he is standing right in front of you – he is tall, of course, bulky and big, and he seems even bigger from this angle. Your face is pressed against his crotch and you can feel the dread slowly filling up your weins. Is he going to…

He presses a knife against your lips – you part it obediently, nervously, you feel your face twitching with disgust as your mouth immediately fills with the metallic taste of Karen’s blood. You really need to vomit right fucking now, but he is petting your head with his other hand like someone would do to a dog or a cat, and you sob. Too scared to do anything and here you thought you would finally stop letting people walk all over you. You thought it would start a journey of self-actualization and finding your own priorities, but…

He presses the knife a bit deeper. 

— Someone here has manners. Your friend here was trying to fuck me until she saw a knife. 

Sounds like Karen. You still remember her fucked-out face when she happily stumbled out of your room, with your boyfriend that you thought was never into cheerleaders. She had her urges and it was normal until she started to get off with those urges on everyone who liked you, or who you liked – and with such an innocent smile that no one was ever mad at her. 

He presses the knife against your upper jaw, laying it flat on your tongue – you sob, trying not to shake your head too much as he wipes away your tears and pushes your throat even deeper on the blade. You don’t know how it still hasn’t penetrated you yet. 

— Squealed like a fucking pig, not even fun anymore. I assume she was the whore of your group? 

You shook your shoulders, not wanting to give him any answers. He laughs, pressing the blade down and slightly turning it to the side. You feel the string of saliva running from your open mouth – he wipes it with his finger, leaving blood stains on your face. 

— Clean the knife for me, okay? I might leave you live if you would be good for us. You launch onto the opportunity to save your life so quickly, that you don’t even register the word “us” slipping from his tongue. 

You suck the knife obediently, carefully holding your tongue from the sharp edge so you won’t cut yourself, trying so desperately not to hurt yourself on the blade, that it’s almost adorable, He looks at you, the way you even fucking hollow your cheeks to clean it more efficiently, like you were sucking a cock and, with every passing second, he doesn’t really feel like killing you anymore. 

He feels like keeping you bound to him – maybe cutting your ankles so you would never run away from them, maybe tying you up to the body of your friend and holstering you both to the house, making you watch him gut Karen so you’d know not to run away from them. 

He pets your head like you were a cat – and, god, he always adored cats. 

You hear the noises from the side – your gaze darts to the nearest bushes as the guy waves his hand to someone gigantic sitting down at your side. Two pair of hands are now petting your head like you were a fucking animal – and you’re still sucking on his knife, feeling the pressure on your lips. You want to die, but there is no choice but to keep living. 

— Scheisse, what do you have here? 

A hand goes to cup your face and turns you to the side, to meet the giant, bulky figure fully wrapped in camo gear. His face is concealed with some sort of hood, which makes you shake even more. They both look like soldiers – or soldier-cultist-butchers from a horror movie. But, then again, you are in the fucking horror movie, since the big guy has Karen’s head in his hand, holding her by the hair. You sob even more. 

— Stumbled across me as I was gutting the slut. 

— Is she a smart one then? 

The guy with the knife laughs, yanking the blade from your mouth. You want to close it immediately, but the second guy pushes his finger between your lips, keeping them apart – and you are too scared to even try to bite him. Instead, you sit here, obediently, feeling the alcohol in your system working its magic. Again. Making you drowsy and relaxed, panic drained so much energy from your body, that you genuinely feel horrible. 

— No, wouldn’t say so. Obedient, more like. 

— Not a cool one either. Are you a virgin, Schatz? 

You want to lie, just so you won’t feel so fucking embarrassed because of it – but something in the brutality of what they did to Karen made you reconsider. You just shake your shoulders, not wanting to give a definitive answer. 

— Cute. Been some time since we saw a cute one like this. 

Your sobbing intensifies and the big guy suddenly yanks you on your feet. You immediately feel ill, pressing your head against the tree and emptying your insides – mostly because of the panic and partly because of the amount of alcohol you drank. Their touches are surprisingly soft on your skin, gently removing any stray hairs from your face and holding a firm hand on your back, rubbing the blood and grim into your jacket. 

You stand like this for a few minutes, choking on your own tears, vomit, and blood. They coo at you, gentle hands on your body guiding you towards them just so the second guy – a smaller one, relatively of course – could get a hand in your hair and yank it back. Hard. 

— Calm the fuck down. 

— You’re scaring her, Tigeren. 

— Aren’t we here for this? 

— Thought you liked this one. 

— I do. But…

— But? 

— Not fun to take her just now. She can help stir her friends a little. Make them run a little. 

They fucking killed Karen and they want to…let you go? They made you clean their knives, stand on your knees in front of them, and then gently helped you empty your insides – just to let you go when you could run into the nearest policeman and destroy their whole little game? Are they dumb or overly confident? 

— She could run. I would rather keep her with us. 

— They won’t get out of these forests without phones. And their car is already…shit. Spoilers. 

— Alright. But I would be the first to take her next time. 

— She won’t be any good after you, Ko. 

— Our Kleine Hase has more than one hole, ja? 

This is it. 

You take the opportunity – they are distracted by their little conversation, so you duck under the hand of the bigger man and run in the close direction to where the group is sitting. You are covered in blood, and dirt, you shake like crazy and you can barely even run straight without getting right into the various trees, but you don’t care. You aren’t strong enough to sit here and listen to their conversation – not when the self-preservation makes you forget about Karen. Not when that feeling in your chest can only be described as “She got what she asked for” – because she was a bitch, but not nearly enough to deserve being beheaded by two psychos. 

They laugh as they watch you run. Horangi smiles, nudging Konig to the side – you’re not a fighter, but still interesting enough. Adorable and obedient, just vile enough to suck on the same knife that killed your friend – interesting mix, to say the least. Hongjin always wanted a cat, but never got the time on the various deployments – and you behave like a perfect mix of a kitten and bunny. 

Konig tilts his head to the side, watching you, this pathetic little thing, run like the devil was after you. He was, of course. and he came in double, but it was still funny, how a city girl like you seriously thought you would be able to get away if they weren’t allowing you to. You’re cute, for a tourist, and he wants to hunt you some more – perfect foreplay before destroying you with either his cock or his knife. 

One down – and both of them couldn’t wait to finally get to you. 

[angel-of-the-moons]

The Ghost and The Relic

Merc!Ghost x Fem!Soul Survivor!Reader

TW/CW: Chem usage, raiders, slavers, murder, executions, child death.

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Depending on how much I like this or how many people like this I might continue this but god I need to get this out of my head lmao.

☢️💀☢️💀☢️💀☢️💀☢️💀

It'd been four years since he took up this kind of work. Three since he'd joined up with the old man.

It was his idea, really, to form their little "Task Force" and roam the Wasteland, performing jobs here or there for settlements, providing temporary security and escort details for caravans...

But Simon "Ghost" Riley had a thought. Several, actually. But they all muddled together after a while, especially around his "team".

Their whole team, a rag-tag group of "soldiers" from all the way in the Mojave to managing, by sheer dumb luck to come ashore with their families from another goddamn country.

Ghost's family was one such case; they'd apparently immigrated 75 years after the Great War from someplace called London. He didn't care much about it, or his family, given how shit a hand he'd been dealt.

His father, the abusive sadistic bastard that he was, had fucked up his younger brother so badly that he himself turned to chems and booze, almost killing himself in the process.

Ghost had rejected that path, convinced his mother to leave his father, and they took his recovering brother and moved into a new shack he and a few of the other residents of their small farming settlement had built and they settled in there. Ghost took up a job in the local militia, defending their homes and settlements; and he became a terrifyingly good shot.

His little brother got clean, stayed sober, and married the girl from a neighboring farm. She was a good match for him and they both loved each other immensely. And it was to their small unit's great joy when they mentioned they were going to have a baby.

A baby boy. Joseph. Their mother was thrilled.

But it all came crashing down, eventually.

Thanks to the old rat bastard.

Raiders slipped right through their defenses during the changing of the watch, in the dead of night when the farmers were all tucked inside their homes.

They'd taken Ghost's farm first, nabbed him on the way down the dirt path to their shack and drug him to their camp, locked him in an old shipping crate.

He didn't know how long he'd been there, or how long he had been tortured... all he knew was that when he finally got free, their settlement was almost razed to the ground, the majority of the militia dead, women taken for sport.

And his family?

Dead. Well. His mother, brother, and sister-in-law anyways. There was still hope for little Joseph.

When he'd gotten to the meeting hall (or what was left of it) he found his father bound and beaten by the settlers, so tweaked out on jet and psycho he didn't even feel any of the pain.

He'd ratted them all out for some fucking chems, like the narcissistic, sociopathic junkie he was.

Ghost had suited up in the best scrap armor they had, bagged provisions, packed loaded weapons and plenty of homemade throwing knives, and set off to find Joseph and the others that had been taken as slaves.

He didn't even look back when he heard the gunshot from inside the hall.

He tracked them for days, maybe longer. He wasn't sure. All he felt was an all-consuming drive to get his nephew back, to save his former neighbors.

But he was too late. He found Joseph's crumpled little body beneath that of a partially nude woman, one he faintly recognized from the settlement, but not enough to recall her name as the haze settled in over his skin.

All he saw was red. Red, like the blood covering that poor, tiny, fragile body.

He moved in the dead of night, creeping like a spectre as he executed every raider and slaver he came across. He shot some, stabbed or slit the throats of others. One he left with his voice box slashed, another with their liver hanging out, both still alive as they bled to death in their dingy tents.

It took him less than an hour. A bunch of jet-addicted starved fools was nothing against Simon Riley and the black rage that swallowed him up.

He'd killed them all.

He led the surviving captives back to their settlement, along with the dead they could recognize, and then burned the camp.

Ghost cradled Joseph against him, swaddled tight in a ratty, blood-stained blanket.

The whole trek home, all his mind would think about was how tiny Joseph was. How he'd carried him like this multiple times back to his own bed after he'd curled up at their fireplace with their pet dog. How he carried him as a baby, and a toddler...

And now, he had to bury him alongside his parents and grandmother, and their beloved pet.

Simon Riley wasn't... he wasn't dead. But he wasn't alive either.

He was like a walking corpse.

A Ghost.

And his name became apt when he'd assumed that moniker (mostly due in part to the skull balaclavas he'd wear. The most intimidating one being the one with the actual skull attached to it...).

He moved like a Ghost, wandering aimlessly, performing jobs.

Then, he met the old man.

John Price, former NCR ranger, before he decided to retire early and leave. Well, more like he went AWOL.

Price was convincing in bringing Ghost into his makeshift military outfit.

There was Alex Keller, a former Great Khan that Price had picked up after his splinter tribe had been killed by his own former allies, the New California Republic.

Then there was Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, a Brotherhood of Steel scribe who became a soldier over a mission that went FUBAR, and left his chapter to travel with Price and his growing "unit".

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, a rather peculiar man with a fondness for explosives who somehow managed to get close enough to Ghost to actually be considered a friend. He had been a Gunner, but left them shortly after he realized that he wanted to do good, not just work for caps.

And finally, there was Kate Laswell. Part of a small surviving group of something called the "Enclave" Price had explained what their group was at some point, but none of them particularly cared.

For the first time in what felt like a lifetime Ghost was... Content. He had a purpose, no longer wandering aimlessly, part of a unit. A task force. "Task Force 141" Price named it. Apparently it was a nod to the unit he originally was assigned to as a young recruit for the NCR.

Very few of them focused on their past lives, they'd lost so much in their travels, in the shit order they'd been born in. There was no reason to think about all that, now.

After all, past is the past, is it not?

Not entirely, as Ghost came to find out.

Once they'd gotten through the remains of what used to be "New York City" back before the Great War (now it's simply called New Necropolis, given it's dessicated state, and it was strung tight with "death zones".

It wasn't until they moved a bit East that Ghost suggested they set up a permanent base of ops.

He suggested Boston, Massachusetts. It seemed like a good idea, supposedly riddled with Vaults they could repurpose, military checkpoints they could loot for scavenged gear...

Price surprisingly agreed to send him alone, like he asked. Ghost didn't want to risk the other members of his "family" on a possibility he may be wrong.

But... Ghost was rarely wrong these days.

Especially about the past staying in the past...

☢️💀☢️💀☢️💀☢️💀☢️💀

He'd managed to trek to a ruined neighborhood surrounded by creeks and a river, by the looks of it, emptying out into a large lake with several other tributaries connecting.

Sanctuary Hills, the old, overgrown sign told him it was. Yeah, maybe 200 years ago, it was a sanctuary. But then again, maybe it could be again. A lot of the houses were still intact. Plenty of scrap metal, wood, etcetera.

Put up some reinforcements on the remaining structures by cannibalizing parts from the ruined structures, build some fences, plant a few crops for provisions, stockpile weapons in the cellar behind that one house...

What he hadn't anticipated on was a Pre-War Mr Handy, still futilely standing watch over his previous owner's house.

He took offense when Ghost set up his sleeping bag in the yellow house across from his master's, citing that it was "impolite" to assume the house was uninhabited.

Judging by the dusty skeletons lying in the back bedroom, yeah. It was uninhabited, save for the radroaches and bloatflies that took a liking to the "idyllic" neighborhood.

That damned robot harped non-stop, although the water it purified for him was something he was grateful for, his yammering certainly got on his nerves.

"Oh, you should have met Sir, he was a soldier too, you know! A rather polite chap, loved the Missus and their baby boy! Oh, how I miss them." The robot sighed, sounding almost wistful.

Could robots feel emotions? He'd yet to meet one that did.

But then again how long had this robot been alone, exactly?

Apparently, he remembered when the bombs were dropped. So, a very very long time. Ghost tried telling him his masters were probably dead by now, even in the safety of their "Vault" he couldn't get into. It's been 200 years.

"Look, bot..." Ghost sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask, setting his hammer down on the table.

He'd been trying to fix up the yellow house for a few weeks. He'd managed some work, namely the roof and larger holes, obviously. Codsworth had even been kind enough to help with the cutting and the welding, just glad to be of service to someone who didn't shoot at him.

"I'm a little busy, here. So if you want to get nostalgic, save it for when I--"

His eyes went wide and he went deathly silent when he heard some kind of alarm blaring across the hills. Very faint, but it was a completely alien sound from the ones he memorized from the area.

He'd grabbed his pistol, and immediately started for the trail leading to Vault 111.

Which... is where he met you.

Dressed only in your blue vault suit, with a Pip-Boy secured to your wrist, you stumbled down, blinded by the sunlight and delirious from being down there for... well.

You'd collapsed against him and Ghost grunted, deciding to carry you over his shoulders back down to Sanctuary.

He noticed a glare in the distance, like the glint from a pair of binoculars, but he paid it no mind.

The moment Codsworth had laid eyes on you, the robot would not. Shut. Up.

He kept chattering on, almost blubbering, actually.

"Oh! Oh, it's the Missus!" He'd declared, obviously confusing you for his owner, long dead...

"Oh, but where is Sir and young Shaun! Oh, why is she alone! Where are the others?" Codsworth lamented dramatically.

Ghost waved him off, checking your vitals and looking at you for any injuries.

You had none. In fact, you were perfect. Your skin was clean, spotless and pristine, unmarred by radiation or scars.

He'd been silently looking over you when you awoke in the dead of night, Codsworth busy purifying excess amounts of water, apparently finding an intact bathtub to fill, so you could have one when you awoke. Or for cooking, or drinking... he didn't really care.

He was so lost in his curiosity of the one thing he'd never seen before: you. A Vault-Dweller, that he didn't register your eyes opening, long, clean lashes fluttering as you blinked, adjusting to the dimly lit room, only illuminated by a single oil lamp.

He'd set up his spare sleeping bag for you to use, while you were unconscious.

He was honestly taken by surprise when you screamed at him; scrambling back in the opposite direction.

Oh. Right.

The mask.

Yeah, it made sense why you were freaked out. Not a lot of Vault-Dwellers were probably rocking skull masks as the latest fall fashion craze...

"Listen." He'd growled out, fixing you with a soft, yet stern glare. Ghost was not without his mercy, and he understood that this new world must have been terrifying for you.

"My name's Ghost. Not gonna hurt ya. What's your name?" He said, sticking his hands up in a non-threatening manner.

When you'd uttered your name, his eyes widened visibly. It was the same name that Codsworth had said. Could be a coincidence.

That is... Until you told him about being frozen. For 200 years.

"I... I woke up, when..." You said, your voice breaking apart to cough, your mouth unreasonably dry.

Ghost had moved to kneel in front of you, handing you his old, dented canteen to drink down in a few gulps before wiping your face with the back of your hand.

"Oh god." You cried softly. "They killed him! They took my baby!"

Ghost's ears instantly perked up, and his own past flashed in the back of his mind before he pushed it aside.

"Who did?" He pressed.

"I don't know. Some... Some guy. A guy with a scar, and a gun, he... There was a woman in a radiation suit, then the man... Nate, he..." Your voice broke off in a choked sob.

He felt pity and sympathy for you after you'd given him bits of information.

And when Codsworth came doddering in to investigate your screams, Ghost knew you were legit.

You were his owner.

And you'd been frozen for 200 years inside an ice box; your family ripped away from you by some cruel force.

After a tearful reunion and the viewing of a highly emotional holotape, Ghost watched as you silently walked back into what used to be your home.

He gave you your privacy to acclimate (kind of) into your new "life", until he decided that some things needed to be said. You couldn't be emotional in the wasteland, that got people killed.

It could get you killed.

So Ghost decided to follow after you, where he found you on your knees in front of your baby son, Shaun's, crib, clinging to a slightly rotted rocketship that was once connected to the mobile that dangled above.

You clutched it to your heart as you sobbed quietly at the horror of it all.

What had the world become? How could you, a former lawyer, survive this?

Ghost cleared his throat and straightened his posture in the doorway, looking at you in the dark. The moon was full, casting dim cool shadows through the holes in the structure.

"I know this 's hard for you." His gravelly voice dragged out with each slow, deliberate step he took towards you.

He had to take it slow, like you were a wounded animal.

'Hnh. Not that far off, actually.' He thought.

"But you got'ta understand. You need to learn how to survive here, now. If you don't, you're as good as dead."

"What's the point?!" You snap, standing to your feet and tossing the plastic rocket at him.

It bounced harmlessly off his barreled chest and clattered to the floor.

"I don't have my son, I don't have my husband, I don't have my family!" You said through fresh, hot tears as your anger and grief rose to the surface.

And just like that, the flames died, and you flickered out, deflating into more quiet cries as you stood, defeated.

"I have nothing."

"Not true." Ghost said, shaking his head. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "You got a bot out there that's been making water for you for bloody hours, now just so you can take a bath. He's still here, and he's been waiting for you all this time."

You looked at him, eyes glassy and oh-so hurt, but you let him continue.

"And you have your little boy. Somebody stole him." His eyes flashed in the darkness of the room, a glint only illuminated by the moon's light, taking more steps to you until he was face-to-face with you, looking down at you.

God, this man was terrifying.

"And you're going to get him back."

"What...? But--but how? I'm just... me! I was a lawyer, for God's sake!" You blathered.

"First thing's first: you learn to survive." Ghost told you bluntly. "Then..."

He reached into the holster on his chest and slapped a pistol into your hands, the weight almost as hefty as the one you felt settle onto your shoulders, and into your heart.

"You learn to defend yourself. You need to learn to shoot."

He turned to walk away, gesturing for you to follow with a jerk of his head.

"C'mon, then. Let's get to it." He grunted.

"Right now?" You stumbled as you followed him out into the ruined street. "It's past midnight!"

"No time like the present."

You couldn't tell, but you were certain this man was smirking at you behind his mask.

"Hey... what's your name?" You asked him as he began to line up old cans and bottles against a rusted car.

"Name's Ghost, like I said. Now, lift the gun and aim down sights. Don't pull the trigger. Squeeze it."

"What does that even mean?" You asked, taking aim as he stood beside you, still as a statue.

'Still as death.' You thought sardonically.

He grunted again, his voice coming out an annoyed growl:

"If you want to survive, you'll learn what it means. Now, keep both eyes open..."

[soy-soi-si]

TW : mentions of usage/ownership of drugs

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓  

「Jade is just a little drugged rn, wtf do I do???」

@ y/nthe1_4ubb 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑

@ Squeezer & @ Scammer

@ scammer

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓  

「Is he breathing?」

@ squeezer

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「my weed or his shrooms?」

@ y/nthe1_4ubb

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「He took my pills on accident. I mean he's breathing but he's acting like a normal person, I DON'T FEEL SAFE.」

@ squeezer

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「Run」

@ Scammer

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「Run」

@ y/nthe1_4ubb

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「W THE HSEHHE」

@ sociopath

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「Y/n is now already half way to the lounge from her dorm. She'll be on time for her shift surely.」

@ CAULDRON

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「You guys are evil.」

@ -1Braincell

╰┈➤𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒!✎ᝰ↓ 

「When aren't they?」

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

[pianocat939]

Hello I have request if you want to do it!

Yandere Rise Turtles that kidnapped the reader and the reader ignores them and stays quiet cause the reader pretty much trusted them and they broke their trust by kidnapping them.

Ah yes the "trust is broken" trope. Time to use all 6 of my braincells to write a theory that is totally impossible~

I know I shouldn't be saying this but I can't think of any ideas for rise rn so I would appreciate requests. Whenever I think of any I scrap it because I don't like how it sounds in the end haha.

Tw: trauma, anxiety, manipulation, delusions, arson (it's Mikey ok?), overprotective impulses, mentions of usage of medical drugs, unhealthy dependencies, I keep making Mikey a sociopath help

Yandere Turtles with Kidnapped MC who Doesn't Speak to them

Raph

I think he would have mixed feelings. The rational side of him perfectly understands why you would react this way; however, he also believes that you need to realize the purpose of his actions.

It's because he needs you so much! His brain can't comprehend being away from you for too long. He gets horrible anxiety if he's not able to cling onto you. So please understand! He's trying to get better but his thoughts just stab him mercilessly.

Despite his views, he doesn't try to pry too much. Sure, he might cry a little, and feel like a monster, but he doesn't talk more than needed. He wishes you answer, but if you need to go through such a state then so be it.

He'll still follow you around, as it's the bare minimum he can tolerate.

I, theoretically speaking, feel that anybody can tell he doesn't kidnap because of twisted/problematic views but rather the amount of trauma he's carried for so long. That being said, there is a way for MC to leave without having to escape.

A. Lot. Of. Therapy.

Consoling his problems is honestly the best way to go for Raph. He's willing to cooperate, and needs only help before he's back to normal. It'll take quite a bit of time, but it's better than being stuck in the lair for the rest of your life.

He apologizes a shit ton. Doesn't matter if you trust him or not, he apologizes.

"I'm sorry. I don't care whether you forgive me or not. I just want you to know that I regret everything."

Leo

Out of his brothers he's least likely to even try kidnapping.

The only case I can think of is if you lost trust for him due to his manipulation. Then he impulsively kidnaps you (it is way too fucking easy for him).

Once you go into your unresponsive state he'll pull the guilt tripping card. He believes if he continues to do so, your mind will trick you eventually. It hurts him that you don't want to answer voluntarily but it's nothing a little bit of psychology can't fix.

He acts like everything is fine while he waits. He'll talk to you, hug you, and anything else of that matter. It's not that he's delusional, rather he's trying to find ways to break you down.

There is a chance he'll lose his patience, and it can go two ways: 1. He breaks and tries to justify his actions. 2. He becomes delusional in a similar way Mikey Wazowski is.

I think there's equal chances for either possbilities.

To elaborate further for the two. When he breaks he'll go into a frenzy of sadness + frustration. He'll state that the reason why he even manipulated in the first place was because he felt useless and wanted you to rely on him for a lot of things. He's honest, and doesn't hide behind his mask. He'll interrogate why you don't depend on him. Let him take care of you, even for something as cutting up Warren Stone.

Now we get to talk about his developing of the "Mikey syndrome" we can call it.

His supposed mind games seem to backfire and work on him rather than you. Meaning, he forms a delusion that you still love and trust him after all the kidnapping and manipulation. He acts as if you guys are a normal couple. Which may be good for your case. He won't let you be independent for some things but you are able to leave the lair (with him by your side). No escaping though, he has his sword.

"I love you so much! I'm glad we understand each other so well."

D'Nello

Most likely to kidnap.

I think his reaction will result in a disaster. As I've written before he's an overprotective and controlling type; so it only makes sense that he declares your state of mind as an illness that he needs to take care of.

Try to ignore him all you want but this man can easily haul you into his lab, run through tests, and not acknowledge the obvious problem of the situation. He believes that you are in a fragile position so it'll only influence him more to "heal" you.

His methods of healing are both physical and mental. He'll check your brain's activity, find a pattern, and see if he can develop a drug that alters your mindset. On the mental counterpart, he talks on and on about psychology, and how to reset everything so that you can be "healthy" again.

If he notices you ignoring on purpose whenever he's speaking about your state of health then he'll snap at you until you listen. You don't have to talk, just be aware of the information leaking from him.

There is no chance of being totally released from his grasp. Not only does he have the advanced technology to ensure your chances of escape are nonexistent, but he is also unnegotiable. He's extremely lucid, but finds no wrong in his intentions as it is protecting someone from harm; when really it is him that is the harm.

Once you're stuck with him, you're fucked.

"Your mental state is nothing I can't fix. The brain can easily be assessed and its neurons can be altered with some drugs."

Mikey Mouse Club House

(I will never take his name seriously)

You are definitely going to be in a worse situation if you ignore Mikey. It's not that he's going to get angry or anything, he becomes more delusional.

He deludes himself into believing you're a god, so if you ignore him, it triggers him into thinking he needs to prove his worth before you give him the privilege of acknowledgment. Additionally, he'll find you even more divine.

He'll prove his worth in a multitude of ways; praising you, doing services, creating a literal book named "Ways to not Upset your God Lover <3". His chaos is terrifying, and it might be the best option to give a sentence to him occasionally otherwise he'll commit crimes far worse than you would ever think of.

If you don't, well let's just say...He'll burn people alive and leave a heart for every place he visits.

Here's one thing I want to express about Mikey. He also has a low chance of kidnapping. It may sound odd, but in my terms, I believe he thinks you're greater than him so it is his duty to follow every word you say. The reason I suppose he could kidnap you is that he wants to be closer.

If he does kidnap you, just say something like, "I want to go home" and he'll deliver you like he's a worker of Jeff Bezos. His mind is easy to figure out.

"Oh hi, baby! Don't mind the scorched-up wood here, just leaving a mark for the world to know my love for you~"

There are a few remains of the body left on the ground...

——————————————————

This was fun. I love analyses so much it's an addiction lmao

- Celina

[rosietaeyongswife]

love in the dark | lee taeyong

LOVE IN THE DARK PARING: lee taeyong x reader GENRE: angst, break up, established relationship WC: 4,5k SUMMARY: taeyong was your perfect boyfriend ever since both of you have started dating. you were his first true love and his life wasn’t great when you were absent. taeyong gave you his all and everything you have ever needed but it wasn’t enough. people changes and develop while growin up, and maturing. more freuquent fights between you two are growing on both of you. issue with literally everything from your side was getting worst. taeyong gave you love, and you did love him but you couldn’t love him in the dark anymore. TW: cursing, usage of drugs, mental illnes (depression), addiction

“y/n i made breakfast.”

  voice of your boyfriend made you shift from your position. you checked time and it was 8:20 in the morning on saturday. your lovely boyfriend woke up before you just to surprise you with another special breakfast he made for both of you. 

“coming.”

  even after all this time you were dating each other he still does that. a little things you have never imagined about when you first met taeyong. gulit tripped over you as you were walking again towards kitchen knowing damn well you have never done such a things for him.

“i made some kimchi toasts and egg, here you go.” before taeyong put down plates he kissed you in the cheek as he always do to welcome you in the morning. “your tea will be done in a few seconds.”

“taeyong.” you sat down. “i told you so many times to not wake up before me just to make breakfast. i can do it myself.”

“you don’t like my meals?” he pouted. “if you want to, i can-”

“no, it’s not about that. i love your meals but i don’t want you to do it all the time. you desevre rest and i should do these kind of thins more often.”

“it’s not a problem at all. i enjoy doing it.”

  taeyong smiled softly and your heart ached at the sight. meeting person like lee taeyong was almost impossible among people these times. he was everything a girl possibly wanted because taeyong was caring. he was lovely. he was gentleman. he loved you. he respected you. he wanted the best for you. many would kill for that because at the top of that taeyong was the most handsome guy you have ever laid your eyes on. ideal.

   but taeyong was also person with a lot of issues who met you in a similiar condition. well, therapy with mr. park maybe wasn’t helping at all but at least you met there love of your life as you supposed at that time. being seventeen year old with a depression sucked and going to therapy only made your issues wider. your mother was concerned but at the same time couldn’t believe you. how could a teenager had a depression? she would always brushed it off until you almost killed yourself by impuls. she called all the right people and that’s how you found yourself in a therapy with mr. park. you supposed he was sociopath or psychopath because of the way he was talking.

“y/n, how many times do we see each other?” older man with crossed legs asked while touch the globe. “hmm?”

“four times a week.”

“exactly.” he smiled. “isn’t it weird how many times do we meet? i am a stranger whom you vent to because of your issues with mental health. i listen to you and then we should find solution but there’s none at this moment. you’re lazy for not doing anything with it.”

“excuse me?” you smirked. “aren’t you suppose to help me? i’ve been here for two months and there is no changes.”

“because you won’t take an action. you’re still stuck in a same cycle.” he rolled his eyes and threw globe on the floor. “you’re revolving around yourself but you don’t want to step further to see it from other point of view. i’m here to help you realize that.”

“i am so done with your bullshit mr. park. you always tell me this. always.” you shrugged. “and your ass advices doesn’t work on me. i’ve tried everything. i did things you asked me to and guess what.” you bended. “i feel the same fuckin way.”

  mr. park was watching you as you stood up.

“because you’re not trying. you have to see it yourself. if you don’t want help you will never recover.”

“you know what?” you took your things “fuck you. i don’t need your bullshit which never helps. bye.”

  you stormed out of the room at the same time as someone from room in front of one. he bumped into you which almost made you throw hands at him. as soon as your eyes locked together you forgot about being mad at boy who bumped into you. he has pretty silver hair and bueatiful eyes that soften when saw you. few seconds passed and none of you break an eye contact until someone asked you to move.

“sorry, should’ve been more careful.” he spoke with soft voice. “my bad.”

“no, no. it’s not a problem at all.” you smiled awkwardly. “i also should pay attention.”

  boy looking at you smiled wider and you could swear he looked like some kind of an angel.

“then we’re good.”

  you looked at him but turned around as soon as you felt he was still staring. a guy was looking at you as you leave but you didn’t turn back. after he bumped into you, you could notice room he left. it was room number eight. number eight was room belonging to mrs. kim jisoo who was an addiction therapist and psychologist. many freaks attendt therapy sessions in place called “health clinic kim&choi”. daily there is a lot of screams or weird guys trying to knock someone down. you witnessed most of this but the worst rooms were eight and twelve on second floor. people entering these rooms were most fucked up ones since one room was for addiction and second one for the worst ones. guy who bumped into you must be a problem.

  you met him once. then twice. once before visit. another time when both of you were going towards clinic. after sixth time you got to know his name. taeyong. lee taeyong was guy intrested in you since the very first time he saw you when you were fighting with mr. park during christmas eve. without knowing each other well taeyong asked you out on dates and months passed by while being with each other.

  that was past. old taeyong was gone for a long time since both of you started dating. new taeyong and new you found peace of mind while being together. falling in love was something you have never expected and here you are. five years later living in small house you bought for your first big money. house was symbol of your love and bond you had together. 

“taeyong we should break up.”

  guilt was tripping all over you when you looked into taeyong’s eyes. of course both of you saw it coming somehow since your therapist warned you about love and your ignorance towards feelings and relationship. taeyong knew it all. taeyong knew you could never love him at the same level as he does.

“y/n.” he took your hands inside his. “i know you still got issues that are hard to maintain. i understand it fully. i also know i love you more which is fine with me. we don’t have to break up because i’m good with it. all the past five years was best time of my life, y/n.”

  you knew he would say that but it was hard for you to be in relationship with him since you know you only hurt him more and more.

“but you shouldn’t be good with it.” you hissed. “i loved you and i do but i don’t think i’ll ever be able to give you my all. my heart breaks even more when i see all the efforts you put into us. you deserves better.”

“no. don’t say that.” taeyong was panicking inside. you couldn’t leave him. “you’re most important person in my life and i can’t lose you. if you leave i’ll be no more good. you made me better person. i love you y/n. don’t do it to me. i won’t be able to handle that.”

“i can’t.” you wipped tears. “i can’t taeyong. i want you to be happy and i feel like you’re just restircted by me.” taeyong’s puppy eyes was filled with tears. “i want you to be best person ever without me. i keep bringing you down, can’t you see? i’m still stuck in depression while you overcome addiction. you made it but i am stuck. it’s growing on me and i can not be with you as it’s tiring for both of us. i hurt you.”

  taeyong got down on his knees holding your hand while sobbing crazy.

‘“stay, please. i can’t live without you. i overcame drugs because of you.” he was crying even more. “thanks to you i am best version of mysel. you don’t love me the way i do? it’s fine! i don’t mind but please y/n.”

“taeyong, it’s so wrong. you can’t stay with me.”

“don’t leave. y/n i beg you..”

  you knew if you answer him or look at him you would give in. you knew he had to get his eyes off of you so you could leave because you can’t do it with him watching you. taeyong’s sobs got louder and your heart breaks in half. you took your hand of his and you went to bedroom for your bags with your things.

“i’ll be back for rest in a two days. good bye taeyong.”

  he tried to scream and say something else but you closed the door of your house. you wanted taeyong to keep it. even tho it was mark of your realtionship it belonges to him and only him. it’s taeyong who poured his whole heart to make it room as beautiful as it is. he arranged everything he can and make it look like dream land. you’ll miss this place. your first house with first love.

  your mother welcomed you with tears in her eyes. only time you visited her was when something goes wrong between you and taeyong. last time was two years ago when taeyong and you had argument about your medications you took at the time. he noticed you didn’t take them for few days and your well being was bad. he was so scared of you and you had enough of him so you went to your mothers flat in centre of seoul. she was almost crying when she saw you but today she was crying. her only child come backs again after argument with only person who could understand them.she was thankful for taeyong since she could never understand you and never took you seriously.

first time your mother and your boyfriend met was when both of you were dating for a year and taeyong was upset with your mum because you called at the seven pm to tell him your mother wanted to stop your therapy. taeyong har rage inside of him when he opened the door of your old flat. all he could hear was you crying and your mother screaming.

“are you crazy mrs. shin?” he screamed while rushing to living room. “you don’t want your daughter to be better? to be finally healthy? you don’t fuckin understand what she’s going through. you’re her mother and it’s you who should support her. you!” your mother was shocked. “are you going to leave her at her own with her problems? i suppose you know exactly what would happen. leave her on the therapy since she needs it. i want her alive.”

  you didn’t care about anything at that time since you heard your boyfriend spoke to your mother. both of you were surpised as taeyong was literally burning with rage. she looked confused at him.

“as far as i know i am her mother and i know exactly what’s best for my child.” taeyong laughed sarcasticly.

“oh you know? then why she doesn’t trust you? or therapist want her to attend therapy since her mental health is so messed up? she needs it and you want to fuck it up! so pathetic.”

“i had no idea-”

“because you didn’t take your own daughter seriously. instead of doubting her you should be the one who encourage her to change.” your mother was embarrased. “y/n take your things and you can stay tonight at my place. good bye mrs. shin.”

  without anything else you took pijamas and all you needed. your mother was looking at you amused when you left her flat. it was so new. someone told her truth. someone made her realize what a damage she was making. 

  taeyong was scared to the core when he was watching you at his bed. 

“i can go sleep on the couch, you have a place here.” he kissed your forhead. “if you anything scream.”

“no.” you grabbed his hand. “stay here with me. it’s your bed after all. and i wouldn’t mind having you in the same bed.”

  taeyong looked at you with smile. he was proud you trusted him and he felt amazing by it since he helped you through a lot.

“our little y/n wants to sleep with me. cute.”

  you made space for him as he was laying down. you felt asleep in his arms safer than you have ever felt.

  you didn’t came back for rest of your things since you had to be in work doing makeup’s for small advertaisments. everyone was fast because director was late and everything was gettind delayed while you have to be at another place in an hour. it was direcor’s fault but no one actually blamed him since he was big name in a industry. this day can get any worse.

  it’s almost midnight when you get into your car finally able to go home after work. your thought wondered about your now ex. you wanted to know what he feels right now but it was impossible since it would only make things worse. after checking if you have all your stuff you turned engine on. twenty minutes and you will be at your mum’s place. able to relax and have quick shower to wash away all the thoughts you had for past few days. 

  suddenly your phone rung. you had to park the car on a empty alley. you answered the call.

“hello, is that shin y/n?” a female asked. 

“hello, yes it’s me. what happened?”

“i’m calling from university hospital in seoul. i am nurse and my name is park sooyoung and i want to inform you that lee teayong is at hospital. he is on surgery and has stomach cleaning since he overdoesed on drugs. please, we want you to come her as soon as possible since you have to fill up patient’s card and you were the only person in his phone to call during emergency.”

“yes ofcourse.”

  your whole world stopped. it’s impossible, it can’t be happening. taeyong let go of drugs four years ago and he had never thought of getting back to it. he overcame his worst addiction and now he overdoesed. your hear was beating and your whole body was shaking as you run to the hospital. few people were looking at you as soon as you get to the reception point.

“i’m lee taeyong’s..” you had to lie. “wife. i am his wife. he overdoesed tonight. where’s he?”

“oh mrs. lee?”

“yes, we’ve been married for a month but i haven’t change my last name yet.” 

“oh, i understand.” she smiled at you. “right now he is under coma before second surgery. he is on third floor, room number 61. you have to fill up his patient’s page so please here it is.” she handled you peper and pen. “fill it up. give it to me and go there. doctor will explain everything to you as soon as you show up.”

“sure. thank you.”

  your tears dropped on a piece of paper while you were signing it. you saw foggy text because of tears in your eyes. everything was so messed up and you just couldn’t stop shaking. addiction history - you had to write down cocaine. it was driving you nuts. everything took you less than five minuts. you were runing on the third floor and through glass you could see your boyfriend getting ready on a surgery. nurses were all on him while you could only look through the window from the outside. soon after doctor showed up.

“are you his relative?”

“i am his wife.”

“okay then.” he closed the door. “your husband took deadly amount of cocaine which caused his heart to stop. he was lucky his friend visited him because five more minutes and your husband was dead. we have to clear his whole body and get rid of cocaine from his body. we have no idea when he will wake up.” you were crying even more. “was it his first time? was he addicted?”

“t-taeyong was drug addict.” you wipped your tears. “he was addicted for two years and for four years now he is free of it.”

“durig this period of four years he had never used cocaine?”

“no, he haven’t! we spend together majority of time and we do check’s up.”

“okay.” he write down something. “do you know what could cause it?”

“w-we broke up few days ago.” you sobbed crazier. “i wanted to break up and that’s propably it.”

“sure. he needs support right now so please take any private issues aside and support him tonight. he needs it as hell since his state is very bad. we will try to do our best.”

  he walked away and you sunk on the floor. guilt was exploding in you when you watched as nurses took taeyongs to surgery room.  it felt like fever dream and you didn’t want to be in that because you were blaming yourself. your boyfriend was fine for past four years. therapy, medicine and you helped him get through it. he had never touched any other substance and one day fucked it all up. you don’t know what you do if he dies. researching on internet just in 2017 almost 14,000 people died on cocaine overdose. you prayed for your taeyong to be better. prayed for him to wake up. he can’t leave world like that. not him.

“your therapist and clinic know everything now mr. lee.” doctor handled him papers. “they wanted to make an appoinment with you and talk about it since you might have long term side effects after overdose. please, do check up in every two weeks.”

“yes. good bye.”

  taeyong looked embarrased at you. shame. he felt shame when you were driving him to house we used to share. place was empty for two weeks. surgery was done and taeyong’s body accepted treatment well. doctor did they best to bring him back to life. and you haven’t left the place not even once. you stayed in hospital day and night until he woke up. you helped in treatment and taking care of him. bought everything needed, and first thing you do before taking him back to home was to go to pharmacy to buy all the medicines he needed.

“listen y/n. i’m so sorry for what happened and what a hard time i caused you-”

“not now. you don’t have to be sorry taeyong. it wasn’t complectly your fault and i understand. also, we don’t have to talk right now. you jus get out of the hospital. let’s take you home and you should rest. maybe a good bath even?” you smiled lightly. “after that we can talk.” taeyong just nodded.

  of course you were mad at taeyong for past events but you weren’t so cruel to start an argument inside of the car while he just was out of hospital. 

  also your madness went down after you met taeyong’s old dealer called chanyeol. you knew him pretty well because of first year of dating taeyong while he still was going through recovery so finding him wasn’t an issue at all. chanyeol was in club when you bursted into place with anger painted on your face. he looked confused when he saw you. without wasting any minute, you went to him and slapped him in the face so hard he fell. while he was screaming at you, you punched him on the nose causing it to break. few curses let slide from your mouth and he knew why were you there. he also knew taeyong was cocaine free and while chanyeol sold him drugs he made him overdose. security took you out while you were calling chanyeol names and deep down he felt guilt.

“i heard you broke chanyeol’s nose.” taeyong mumbled while being covered under the blanket. “is that true?”

“who told you?”

“mark.”

“yes it’s true. motherfucker sold you cocaine even tho he knew whole story. you are his ex friend and after all that he chose to sold it to you.”

  he giggled lightly.

“i would kill to see you breaking his nose.” you slapped his shoulder. “i want to thank you for everything. i was immature for it and i am so sorry. you didn’t have to help me during my stay in hospital. i don’t know.” he was shameful. “i was just broken. you left and i just wanted to let go of feelings and i had to.”

“taeyong promise me you’ll never do it again. i almost had heart attack because of you. i don’t want you to get hurt or die. you were free for four years now and in just one night you almost died. you’re lucky as hell. please, don’t do it again ever.” you knew how easily taeyong could get trigger for drugs. “i’ll stay. i won’t leave you but please.”

 suddenly his eyes light up and he was holding you tight in a hug. you had to promise him that because you know now he is going to do drugs when you leave.

 it was first time when you two broke up and get together. first but not last.

“glad to know you enjoy it at least.” you hummed as you were about to eat toast. “did clinic call?”

“not yet.” he smiled. “they will propably in a few days, don’t worry y/n.”

  six months later from overdose you were still with taeyong. you couldn’t leave him because of few issues with it. you were scared that another time will end up with taeyong’s death. it’s not what you would want to happened. you were trapped into relationship. it wasn’t healthy at all and taeyong knew this. taeyong also knew he isn’t going to do drugs again but when he see you’re still with him he can’t help but not tell you.

  people grow and change, that’s what happened between you two. past few years gave you life experience you never expected. your depression was fading away only issue you had was your emotions and rather lack of them. mr. park explained it to you - you simply don’t love lee taeyong and guilt is haunting you down. he was giving you everything while you couldn’t do the same.

  taeyong’s accident also changed your view on world. no one expected to stay the same after what happened. his friends would visit you more frequently and you would check on him just to be sure taeyong won’t do stupid things again.

  at the other side, your boyfriend got soften. he wanted to treat you the best because you helped him with so many things it was almost impossible to do. also, you gathered strenght. past few weeks you were focused on yourself. self love. that’s what you needed first which lead to a lot of fights between you and taeyong. it was you who would start them since taeyong would only agree with you and try to calm you down.

“now it’s me who have to deal with consequences of your actions.” you snapped. “not you. not your friends but me. don’t you see i also suffer?” taeyong was looking at you in disbelief. “we would never have to go through it if you just could let me go. break up was the best option for us but no.” you hissed. “don’t leave me, stay.” you mocked. “i am so done. i am with you but i still feel guilty even tho as i’m looking at it now it’s not my fault.”

“y/n please. i am so sorry for everything. i apologized hundred of times and i still will. how else should i do? i love you from the bottom of my hear and you still don’t love me. i need you in my life and i don’t complain.”

  your fight was going on during party at doyoung’s house. he had birthday and invited all his friends with their partners. everything went smoothly unless taeyong pissed you off. today you were fed up of everything and your relationship with taeyong. 

“i don’t care. i wanted to leave and instead i am traped with you.”

“then leave.” he shouted. “then leave me, the fuck.”

“for what? for you trying to overdoes again?”

  you didn’t wait for any response and just walked away from him leaving taeyong alone by the pool. as far as you were getting the more you regretted. you were too harsh on him. on your sweet boyfriend who loves you the most in the world. when you felt guilty you turned and went back to the pool but there was no sight of taeyong.

“hey, taeil.” you screamed. “have you seen taeyong?”

“no, i haven’t.” he smiled. “go ask mark they both were talking not so long ago.”

  running into house full of people you noticed mark.

“no, i don’t know. maybe he left already?”

  running through alleys of doyoung’s neighbourhood was pretty much tiring since this place is huge. taeyong couldn’t go so far. while asking few people you were loosing hope of seeying him tonight but at the end of dark alley you could see a male with water in the hand.

“taeyong.”

  he turned back and saw you. tears. there was shadow of tears on his face and you knew you fucked up.

“what do you want?”

“i am sorry. i should never used such a words.”

“you’re not happy with me. shit. five years by each other is a long time don’t you think?”

“it is. taeyong i am sorry but i mean what i said.” you looked down. “our life is too messed up for us to be together. i feel like you’re the only person i know but we’re too different now. i-” taeyong felt it coming and knot in his stomach tightened. “i don’t love you taeyong, i am sorry. i wish i could love you the same way as before. i can’t do it. it’s draining me down. i wished to meet my perfect boyfriend and i met you. maybe you’re too perfect for me?”

“i am not. you deserve so much better and i am a fool. fool for everything i’ve done but i did it for love. i have never stopped and i will never stop loving you.”

“i know taeyong. i think it’s our good bye. i hope we will never see each other again for sake of our happines and well being. you’re example of book’s boyfriend and you should love someone who is on your level. i am still trying to love and i am sick of it. it’s fine, i understand how things went in our life. i know.” taeyong was crying again. “don’t cry. you will meet your other half.”

“do you think it’s necessery?”

“of course taeyong.”

  both of you were laying down on your bed. in an hour people will come here because they are intrested in buying this house. it’s the last time both of you were in yours house. last time both of you see each other. last memory of you two. taeyong promised you to be good and to not do drugs anymore. he will take care of his health. you at the other side will change your whole life and you can’t stay in seoul so that’s why you’re moving to daegu.

  taeyong learnt you a lot of things. thanks to him you got to experience love, happines, pain, gratefulness, friendship and everything. he stopped trying to change your mind. he understood you’re leaving. you’re not in love him as you used to.

“you made me miserable and i still loved you. thank you y/n for building me and helping me develop myself.”

“thank you for showing me proper way of living and your love.”

  it’s done. lee taeyong is no longer your boyfriend and you’re free of him. you had to be cruel to be kind. you’re doing it just for taeyong’s sake and happines. he will be grateful to you one day for your actions. as for now all good memories and time with taeyong became core memory in your brain that you will never ever think about again. 

  you’re not the only ones. people been here before as every other couple. people break up with each other when their time comes to an end. it’s never ending cycle and there is nothing to regret. but you wanted to live not only survive. life to fullest without worrying and being hold back. 

[pentagramcityradio]

Things to Know

//This is the rules and about for mobile users. That will be under the cut, as it will be long.

Guidelines are as follows:

I am selective and non-exclusive for IC interactions.

This is a sideblog of angel-dust-addict.  All follow-backs will be from there.

This blog is an OC and multi-fandom friendly blog.

Mun and muse are both well over 21.

I will not RP with anyone who does not have listed somewhere on their blog that they are 18+.  If this is not listed and you interact, I will block you.  Simple as that.  Alastor is a sociopathic serial killer and cannibal.  There will be adult themes on this blog.  If you’re a minor, kindly just close out this tab and leave my blog.

Don’t godmod.  

Do not like my open starters if you have no intention of answering them.  This goes doubly for non RP blogs and I will block non-RP blogs who do this.  By doing that you drive away people who might actually want to answer them.

There may be smut on this blog, but I’m more selective about those threads.  Please see the FAQ and About pages for more on shipping.

I am always completely fine with fading to black.  I will not ask you to write something you aren’t comfortable with.  This goes for violence as well as smut.

If I find out you have lied to me about your age, I will block you and will report you if this was done in order to RP smut.

I will do my best to try to tag things that are NSFW or that may be triggery or otherwise cause problems for people.  If I miss something, let me know.  RP is meant to be fun for all of us. 

The Not Safe For Work tag is simply “NSFW” and it covers sexually explicit material, excessive gore or violence, etc.  Thread posts that contain NSFW or particularly triggery material will be placed under a read-more at my partner’s request.  This blog is 18+ and everything will be tagged appropriately.

The trigger tag is “tw: [tagged trigger]”, so for example “tw: violence.”

The content warning tag is “cw: [content]”.  This is used for things like sexual content, gore, torture, anything that would earn a post an NSFW tag, as well as for minor instances of things like period typical homophobia.  For instance, Alastor is a cannibal.  If I'm mentioning something about that in passing, it will be tagged “cw: cannibalism mention.“  If there’s anything graphic, such as in depth discussion, it will have a “tw” tag instead.

There may be instances of slurs in the context of RP dialogue or inner monologue.  This is not reflective of the mun’s views.  Alastor lived from the 1890s to the 1930s and sometimes his language usage reflects that, even though he has no problem with the LGBTQ community, women, or people of color.  The specific content tag for his use of slurs is “cw: Alastor’s 1910s lingo”.

Do not push ships on me.  I’m generally fine with shipping, as long as we discuss it first.  But if I have said no to something, that means no.  It’s usually because I’m uncomfortable with it for some reason, and I will generally make that reason known.  Don’t keep pushing  If you do this, I will not RP with you.

The mun is not the muse.  That should go without saying.  Alastor may say or do things that I would never say or do and that I disagree with.  But that’s Alastor, not me.  It will be clear when I’m talking OOC, as those posts will start with a //.  If it doesn’t have a //, it’s Alastor.  If something he says or does is triggery to you and you would like me to tag it, please let me know and I will be happy to do so.

Please, please do not reblog RP threads from me that you are not involved in.  Liking is fine.  Reblogging is not.  It screws up my thread tracker.

I do not generally send in “passwords” and whatnot.  However, I also almost never follow anybody who doesn’t have rules somewhere on their blog, as I do make a point of reading those so I know how they run their blog.  I’m just an anxious mess and sometimes it’s hard for me to reach out to people and that does extend to sending passwords.  Or any messages, for that matter.

Unless otherwise stated, interactions with each character my muse interacts with are treated as separate.  The only instance to which this does not apply is dashboard chatter amongst alternates.

If your muse is not from Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss, that does not mean I won’t play with you.  However, if your muse is not someone Alastor could be reasonably expected to know, he won’t know them straight off.  

Name: Alastor

Aliases: The Radio Demon, Smiles (Angel), Strawberry Pimp (Angel)

Twin Name: Story

Gender: Male

Years living: 1895-1933

Age, at death: 38

Age, total: 128

Height: 6'6"

Weight: 

Physical appearance: Alastor is a deer demon.  He has red hair tipped with black at all edges.  He also has large deer ears atop his head, rather than human ears, and small antlers situated between them.  He does also have a small tail, though this is generally hidden beneath his jacket.  His skin is an ashen greyish color and he has yellowed, shark-like teeth.  His eyes are red in his normal form, with a dark red sclera and bright red iris.  While his shoes have cloven hoofprints on the bottoms, reminiscent of his animal’s feet, his fingers sport long claws more suited to predator than prey.  When angered, his eyes take on the appearance of radio dials.  If pushed beyond that point, his eyes turn completely black and his antlers and claws grow to monstrous lengths.

Distinguishing marks: Antlers, deer ears, red and black hair, and red eyes.

Affiliations: Charlie Morningstar & the Happy/Hazbin Hotel

Alignment: Neutral evil

Languages: English, French Creole

Abilities: Alastor can manipulate radio frequencies, even being able to use them to go so far as disrupting reality around him.  He is also adept at eldritch magic.  He is tuned into radio frequencies to the extent that he is able to know about anything happening anywhere in Pentagram City where there’s a radio nearby.  He can also separate his shadow from himself and use it for basic tasks, surveillance, and as a means of essentially teleporting.

Positive traits: Work ethic

Likes: Radio, jazz music, hunting

Weaknesses: Pride, luddite tendencies

Negative traits: Cruel, manipulative, narcissistic, cannibalistic

Dislikes: Television, anyone who challenges his power, boredom

Weapon of choice: Magic

Orientation: Asexual, demiromantic

Relationship status: Single and not really looking, though he’s open to new experiences

Mental Health and Behavior:

Alastor is a sociopath.  He does not experience feelings of empathy.  On Earth, this was one of the things that led him to becoming a serial killer.  Unlike most sociopathic people, Alastor became fascinated with other people and that fascination took a dark turn.  He enjoyed causing fear and pain.  To him, it was a form of art.  He didn’t turn to cannibalism, however, until the Great Depression struck.  He had already been killing for years, and with the unavailability of food - especially meat - cannibalism was a matter of practicality.  As with all things, however, Alastor became obsessed with the artistry of it.  Everything from the way he butchered the corpses to the way he cooked the resultant meat was an art form.

The only person for whom Alastor ever really felt anything was his mother, of whom he was deeply fond.  He admired her determination and drive and respected the sacrifices she made in order to raise him.  He did not, however, love her.  That is something Alastor is incapable of, though she was the closest he ever came.  Even this fondness, however, had undertones of his narcissism.  He was chiefly concerned with her attitudes and actions towards him, rather than the woman herself.

History: 

Alastor was born about half an hour outside New Orleans, Louisiana in 1895.  His childhood was lonely and difficult.  The result of an unwilling union between a Black woman and a white man, Alastor didn’t really have a place on either side of the racial divide.  His mother raised him alone.  Making ends meet was often a struggle, but she provided for her son as best she could.  Alastor was highly intelligent and she made sure that he did attend school through the eighth grade.  She also raised him with the practice of Voodoo, a syncretic religion that had elements of both Catholicism and West African spiritual practices.  Alastor would continue to practice Voodoo until his death, although by the end he had deviated so far from the original path that the typical practitioner would have no trouble at all distancing his practices from their own. As a teenager, he did farm labor in order to help in keeping the household afloat.  During that time, he continued to read as much as he could.  When radios began to become more commonplace, he listened avidly whenever the opportunity arose.  Between his love for jazz and his love of the medium, Alastor decided he wanted to become a radio broadcaster.  He may have been too black for a lot of dance halls and other venues in the still deeply segregated American South, but on the radio no one could determine your race.  He studied not only the technology involved, but also the way broadcasters tended to speak.  This is how he picked up his Transatlantic accent.

It was during the 1920s that he moved to New Orleans.  There, he found a world of new opportunities.  In addition to the chance he wanted to find a career in radio, he also found a hunting ground.  His first kill was a way to assuage his own curiosity.  He had, of course, heard of the ax man murders.  After all, that hadn’t been so very long ago at the time.  He was curious how difficult it would be to get away with something like that - and what it would feel like to see the fear in a person’s face when they knew death was coming for them, to see the light dim and the life leave them.  Morbid as that fascination was, he was almost sure it would yield to him some sort of truth about the world.  It had to, didn’t it?  So egregious was the crime that surely it would enlighten him to something.  The only truth it revealed was how much he enjoyed the feeling of power that surged through him as he watched the life leave his victims.

Death came for Alastor when, in 1933 at the age of 38, he was happened upon by a hunter while burying the remains of what would turn out to be his last Earthly victim.  The man had been hunting with his blueticks and when he spotted movement in the trees, he fired at the source, thinking it to be a deer.  That first shot didn’t kill Alastor, but it did slow him down enough that he couldn’t escape the hounds.  When he realized what he and his dogs had done, the hunter shot Alastor point blank in the head and left his body hidden in a nearby thicket where it was unlikely to be found.  An ignominious end for the ambitious man.

After that final rifle blast, Alastor was surprised to find himself awakening in a different place altogether.  It didn’t take him long to realize he was dead.  There was no way he wasn’t, given the last thing he could remember was a hunter standing over him and a rifle barrel in his face.  To his indignation, he discovered in short order that he had somehow gained a stag’s ears, antlers, and tail.  He had become the very deer the hunter had mistaken him for.  But he made the best of the situation.  After all the appeals he had made to the loa over the course of his life - not to mention his final pleas as he faced down the hunter’s hounds - he found he had been heard.  His appeals had been acknowledged and answered, though not in the way he would have expected.  In this world beyond the physical realm, this land of the departed, he found himself with all the power he could ever have craved in life.  Not one to spurn a gift, he wasted no time putting his newfound abilities to use.  And thus the Radio Demon was born.