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prince-liest · 11 months ago

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since you acknowledged vox and valentino as a uh. less than healthy relationship (lol) several times (going feral over what vox was implying in that latest 666 fic), do you think there's ever the chance of alastor feeling... probably not protective haha but maybe possessive over vox the next time he's a little banged up? alternatively, how else do you think alastor would react if whatever they were getting up to is halted by vox nursing some kind of injury from one of his and val's fights? - ✨

I think it really depends on how Vox presents the situation, to be honest! They, uh, bang each other up a lot themselves, hahaha, and Alastor doesn't really register it as problematic. A lot of writing 666 is balancing the idea that these guys are living an existence where the a real life normal-meter really can't accurately be applied, and also maintaining that they still do have personal boundaries and lines that might be crossed.

A reminder of some (but not all) of the fucked up things that Vox and Alastor have done to each other over the course of 666:

One murder attempt that Vox didn't draw a line in the sand over

Vox got annoyed and slapped Alastor across the face hard enough to knock him down, with no warning or prelude, in a sexual context

Vox slammed Alastor's skull into the ground, out of anger, several times until he was dazed and bleeding

Alastor literally tried to eat a chunk of Vox's shoulder, most likely resulting in the reverse of the scenario you're describing: Vox having to take it easier with Val because he has a gaping shoulder wound courtesy of Alastor and can't lift his arm

About three dozen bucketfuls of severely under-negotiated and sometimes not-at-all negotiated edgeplay (as in, not safe-sane-consensual) kink from both ends, including but not limited to: choking (via hands and via dick), fearplay, deliberate boundary-crossing wrt touch, hypnosis, painplay, bloodplay, wounding, and gaslighting for the purpose of humiliation

Like, Vox asking "I want to make sure I didn't cross any boundaries!" in the second 666 fic does not in any way absolve him of having deliberately crossed about thirty of them immediately prior, and the fact that Alastor enjoyed it is mostly just because Alastor is also fucked up. Some people seemed quite surprised at Alastor crossing so many boundaries in the wireplay fic compared to all the shit Vox had pulled prior to that point, and I think it's because he, unlike Vox, didn't pay lip service to it, though they both do about the same amount of actual "keeping an eye on things".

Them caring about each other does not mean that their concept of "boundaries" or even "okay things to do to another person in an intimate setting or otherwise" aren't very, very colored by them being demonic overlords who live in hell and haven't so much as waved 'hello' to a single healthy intimate relationship in the past hundred years.

Vox having to take a breather because he has some kind of injury from Val is, unless he's actively making a 'this is fucked up and I'm opening up to be vulnerable and unhappy about it' kind of deal about it, is not really going to ping on Alastor's radar as a problem.

And Vox isn't going to make that kind of deal about it because that isn't how he sees his relationship with Valentino. Yes, Val often treats Vox in abusive ways in 666. That is also colored by both of them being demonic overlords who live in hell, and Vox treats certain aspects of it as frustrating and upsetting (and often takes that out on Valentino - hence the frequent off-again-on-again nature of their relationship), but he doesn't actually, like, see their relationship the way that we do.

He loves Val. Val loves him. To him, the rest is either normal overlord behavior or their own damage, and they've found a balance where the general response to a shitty happening is, "Eh, we've worked through worse."

TL;DR: Valentino, Vox, and Alastor all need to have "DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!" stapled across their foreheads. To paraphrase Bay: They're in hell. The insane acts of violence are basically a love language at this point.

#ask #personal #sparkle anon #666 live on air #my writing #cw abuse #cw violence #cw intimate partner violence #cw cannibalism #long post #hazbin hotel #radiostatic #staticmoth #staticmoth are gonna be “off again” in the next installation and Vox is going to be SO soppy about it

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strawberriemarswrites · 1 year ago

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Chapter Summary: You're having some interesting dreams lately, and one day after work you catch some unwanted attention. Good thing someone's started following you home. Pairing: Bartolomeo x F!Reader Rating: Explicit, NSFW Chapter (18+ only; PiV sex) TW: public harassment, Barto's full-on stalking now, first dream is nice and steamy but the second dream at the end involves a bit of gore Ao3 Link: Chapter Seven (2,877 words)

Spring melted into Summer, and you quickly learned the AC rattled for just a bit too long whenever it turned on. It hadn’t yet been pushed to its limit, but it left you worried that it would kick the bucket when the first truly scorching day rolled around. It worked for now, at least, which was a godsend given the more pressing matter at hand.

Namely, someone pressing into you while you were bent over the kitchen counter. You weren’t entirely sure how you got there, or how Bartolomeo got into the apartment, but things had apparently escalated quickly.

His hands gripped your hips, your toes grazing the floor with each languid push. He nuzzled the shell of your ear, and you were surprised his septum ring was still cold against your skin, sending shocks down your spine.

“Sweetheart,” he purred, his voice impossibly low.

“Barto,” you whined, his name echoing despite the small space. “More.”

He obeyed, pulling out almost completely only to slam back in, his pace increasing. He was long, that much you knew, even though you hadn’t seen it. No matter how deep he pushed, he always seemed to be able to go even deeper, his cock dragging against your tight walls as his pace grew more erratic.

“My girl. Mine.” He punctuated his statement with a hard thrust, the rough handling contrasting sharply with the soft kisses and playful bites on your neck and shoulders. Sparks flew through your veins as the head of his cock pressed against your sweet spot. You hardly recognized yourself through the animalistic cry that wrenched free, your cunt being pushed to its limit.

Right on the cusp of release, a familiar rattling sound cut through the air.

Blearily, you opened your eyes. You were flopped over on your couch, dried drool on your cheek. The AC was wheezing to life, pulling you from your delicious reverie.

You groaned, covering your face. “Fuck.”

It was a beautiful evening as you got out of work for the day. The sky was a gradient of pinks and oranges as the sun began its slow descent below the skyline. Its reflection glinted off of buildings and cars, filling your vision with little sparks of gold.

The darkening sky made it easier for Bartolomeo to keep an eye on you as he followed you home, keeping three buildings between you and him.

For all intents and purposes, he could have casually walked up and passed off his presence as a coincidence, as if he was just out running errands. He imagined you’d ask if he wanted to walk home with you, something he’d do with all the enthusiasm of a puppy playing with his favorite toy. Maybe you could stop at the diner, and he’d actually get a chance to show that he loved the little brushes of contact with your legs against his. Maybe he’d even get to feel those legs around his hips—

Bartolomeo shook his head, expelling the thought. This was why he was following from a distance. He didn’t trust himself not to overwhelm you with advances, or let slip one of his more lewd thoughts.

You were blissfully unaware, a slight spring in your step as you walked down the steps to the subway platform. He watched you swipe a train pass and waited for you to turn the corner, before jumping the turnstiles and resuming the pursuit.

He’d never admit that, despite the risk of being caught, he was starting to get a bit of a thrill out of the whole situation. You hadn’t said anything about noticing break-ins in a while, which meant he was getting better about hiding his tracks. On occasion he hid on the fire escape when he knew you were awake, or sat by your door and listened to you play with Luffy or sing to yourself. Part of him felt guilty still, but that part was slowly getting quieter as he continued to get away with his antics.

Following you was another step down into the obsession pit. Bartolomeo could justify it to himself all he wanted to, despite the obvious truth. He boarded the subway car behind yours, watching your back through the windows.

The car you chose was less crowded than usual for this time of day, devoid of the locals you’d grown accustomed to seeing. It wasn’t completely empty, as there was a group of people near the front of the car who were too loud for the tiny space, horsing around and engaging in general foolishness. Not long after you sat down and started to look at your phone, however, the volume died down somewhat, replaced with some muttering and hushed snickering. Maybe they were being more considerate now that someone else was in the car with them.

If only they were that kind.

A few minutes passed before a shadow loomed over you. Startled, you looked up.

A blond man with sunglasses was staring down at you with a wide grin. He had two long scars across either side of his face, giving him an almost ruggedly handsome appearance, if it weren’t for the fact he was leaning over you with imposing intent.

“Hey there, dollface,” he said. “Traveling alone?”

You bristled, tucking your phone away. “I’m meeting someone.”

He laughed, “Sure you are. Who’re you meeting? A boyfriend?”

You shook your head, pulling your shoulders in, instinctively making yourself smaller.

The man laughed, “Aw, no need to be shy. I’m just making conversation.” He suddenly leaned over you, putting one hand over the back of the seat. “Tell you what — why don’t you ditch whoever it is and come join us?” He tipped his sunglasses down. “I’m sure my friends and I could show you a fun time.”

You tried to inch away, pressing yourself closer to the cool window. “I’m just meeting a friend. I’m sure we can have a fun time by ourselves.”

“Maybe they can join us. The more the merrier, right?” He cocked his head, looking you up and down. “If they’re half as pretty as you, you’ll both look good on either arm.”

You suppressed the urge to gag, instead shaking your head again. “I’m really not interested in a night out, thank you.”

“So a night in, then? I don’t mind going back to your place.”

You ground your teeth, a dial in your head moving a few notches from flight toward fight. Why couldn’t this guy take a hint? Abruptly, you stood, throwing him off guard enough that you were able to push past him and stand by the doors. “No. Thank you. Maybe some other time.”

One of his friends piped up from the front of the car, “Come on, Bellamy. She said she’s not interested.”

He shot the group a glare before smiling at you again, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he regained his composure.

“Your loss,” he said with a shrug and leaned against a support pole as the train slowly pulled to a stop. “See you around.”

You couldn’t get off the train fast enough, not caring that you were still several stops away from the apartment. You took off at a brisk jog, rushing back up to the open air and hugging yourself as you tried to come down from the adrenaline rush. You knew your way to the next station, you could get back on once the train came back around — surely they’d all be gone by then. The sky began to darken further as you slowed back down to a walk, pushing your hair back with a shaking hand. Granted, it was a brief encounter, but you were confident you’d had enough excitement for one night.

With that thought, you again tempted fate.

As you came up to the next subway entrance, you grew increasingly aware of a chill down your spine. Initially, you chalked it up to the slight drop in temperature of the crisp summer evening, but it started to feel more like there were eyes on you. You rounded the signpost for the subway entrance, trying to casually catch sight of whoever may have been behind you—

On the entrance stairs was the scarred man — Bellamy, was it? — surrounded by his entourage.

“Hey there, dollface.” He grinned, his tongue darting out between his teeth. “Where’s that friend you were meeting?”

After assessing each one of his friends in turn, the dial in your brain switched back to flight so quickly the knob broke.

Voices shouted behind you as you ran faster than you believed you ever could, your steps thundering against the concrete. You couldn’t tell if the streets were strangely empty, or if you were running past people so fast that you stopped seeing them, only registering them as obstacles to dodge as you fled. You probably should have cried for help, but by the time you thought about it, your voice was lost in your lungs, smothered by the chilled night air that filled them. The only thing on your mind now was run.

Just as you made a sharp turn into an alley, a hand shot out and grabbed your arm, finally wrenching free the shriek caught in your chest. You clawed at the hand grabbing you, glaring daggers at Bellamy as he took off his sunglasses to stare down at you.

“Aw, you’re even prettier when you’re pissed off,” he laughed, lifting your arm over your head. With a sickening lurch in your stomach you felt your feet leave the ground, and your shoulder strained as he effortlessly held you up like you weighed nothing. He stopped when he had you dangling a good few feet above the sidewalk, his eyes wide and manic. “I’ll give you another chance: lemme show you a nice time, huh?”

It probably wasn’t the wisest decision, given the position you found yourself in, but it was the only thing you could think to do. You felt your palm sting and your feet hit the concrete before you fully realized you slapped him, hard enough to make him drop you. Staggering, you took off again in the direction you came, weaving around Bellamy’s friends only to run straight into someone’s chest. Panicked, you balled your hands into fists before you looked up and saw whose chest it was.

Bartolomeo put an arm around your shoulders and held you close, staring straight ahead at his target. In spite of the red creeping into his periphery, his expression was calm, only showing the bare minimum of the rage he felt firing through his nerves. “There a problem here?”

Bellamy’s troupe gave him a wide berth as he approached, a fading red handprint on the left side of his face. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’,” Bartolomeo started gently coaxing you behind him. “Just a friend passin’ through.”

The cocky grin from before slowly crept back up as Bellamy made eye contact with you. “Guess you weren’t lying after all about that friend.” His gaze then met Bartolomeo’s. “Not all that pretty though.”

“Funny,” Bartolomeo smirked, “that’s not what your mother was sayin’.”

Bellamy seethed, cracking his knuckles. “Looks like you and your little bitch need to learn some manners.”

Bartolomeo’s brow ticked and he took a step forward, before he felt you lightly pull on the back of his leather jacket. He looked down to you, putting an arm around your shoulders.

You tugged on his jacket again. He was outnumbered, and you really didn’t want to see him get hurt. “Come on, he’s not worth it,” you said. “Let’s just go home.”

His expression softened slightly, his fury abating. “You sure?”

You nodded, and he relented, turning his back slightly—

Before ducking out of range of a right hook. He backed up to keep out of Bellamy’s reach, nudging you further behind him. Bellamy threw another punch, and Bartolomeo brought both fists up to protect his face.

You quickly backed away from the fight, surprised to see the rest of the group do the same, as Bartolomeo swung from the left. As Bellamy went to block, he was struck from the right and nailed in the solar plexus, knocking the wind from him. Fueled further by the anger flooding his veins, Bartolomeo started wailing on his face, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and crunching bone echoing against the buildings.

You flinched with each hit, unable to look away as Bellamy’s face turned bloodier and more bruised. One of his friends tried to step forward before another one stopped him, muttering things between them before giving Bartolomeo a wide-eyed stare and backing up further.

Finally, the sounds stopped, and Bartolomeo shoved Bellamy backward toward his friends. He looked dazed, for as much as one who could barely see through the swelling on his face could, blood staining down the front of his shirt. Cuts on his cheeks and nose stood out sharply against the bruises, and he struggled to stand upright, before staggering back and being caught by two of his bigger comrades.

Bartolomeo turned back to you, barely having broken a sweat, knuckles bruised and his shirt spattered with blood.

You gaped, your heart racing, and a faint flush crept to your cheeks.

That is. Disturbingly hot.

He pulled you to his side with an arm around your shoulder, holding you close as he led you from the bloodbath. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get home.”

When you returned back to the apartment, you spent way too long in your living room helicoptering around Bartolomeo and dressing his knuckles, trying to insist that you treat his shirt with peroxide, and fangirling about how he handled that fight. He happily let you do so, even allowing you to shove an icepack into his less bruised hand to take with him, despite him having plenty of first aid material already. He was just relieved he’d gotten off the subway in time to follow you, and that you hadn’t noticed him when you were trying to get to the next station.

And he was relieved to show that prick what happens when someone messes with his girl.

Later that night as you slept, you felt a weight on your chest. You tried to move it, assuming it was Luffy, but your arms wouldn’t listen. You tried to roll over, but your body wouldn’t budge. You felt hot, heavy breathing across your face, and with immense effort you managed to open your eyes.

Bartolomeo was straddling your waist, his arms on either side of your head to keep his body from completely pinning yours down. His lips were pulled back into a snarl, his eyes glowing. His teeth looked even larger, especially up so close. Puffs of steam came from his mouth as he breathed, and in the darkness you weren’t sure if what was dripping from his lips was drool or blood.

You couldn’t stop the snarky part of you from saying, “What large teeth you have.”

Bartolomeo’s snarl turned into a grin. It was definitely blood coming down from between his teeth. His voice came out low, layered over itself as he growled, “Better to eat you with.”

The weight on your chest moved, and you looked down. There was a pile of gore, gently beating.

“A gift?” you asked, your voice detached and distant.

He leaned down to your ear, “Our heart.”

An interesting word choice. Not “my”, not “your”. Our heart.

His tongue slid over your cheek as he pulled away, leaving behind a dark, wet trail over your face. Your arms finally responded to your demands as you reached up to try and keep him in place. But your hand slipped right through him, instead landing right on top of the messy heart on your chest.

It felt strangely furry, and made a very confused “mrrreep”.

You opened your eyes with a gasp. No Bartolomeo, no heart, just Luffy wondering why you awoke him from his sleep. You pushed yourself upright, surveying the room.

Nothing. No one. Just you and the kitty.

And it was uncomfortably hot in your bedroom.

You groaned and gently nudged Luffy off of you, stretching as you rolled out of bed to find a box fan. There was no way in hell you were going to try messing with the AC this late at night. You retrieved the fan from the hall closet, flicking on the light in your room as you dragged it over to the window to the fire escape. Before you could push it open, something on the floor caught your eye.

Flecks of rust, dirt, and chipped paint were scattered around near the window. You groaned, crouching down to look at them a bit closer. You knew you vacuumed just the day before, so where the hell did the stuff come from?

You got your answer when you opened the window and bits of rust shook loose, littering the carpet.

It occurred to you that you’d never opened this window before now.

Everything you had been trying to ignore, everything you thought had been resolved, all of it came flooding back, pouring in from the window and sending debris to your floor.

Someone had been in your bedroom. And the fire escape was how they got in.

#i'll fucking digest you one kiss at a time #bartolomeo #bartolomeo x you #one piece x reader #bartolomeo the cannibal #reader insert #ifdyokaat #bartolomeo one piece #yandere #yandere!bartolomeo #PHEW!!! It's done :3 #Bellamy won the poll so -- he gets his ass beat #i tried to go for something between his pre- and post-timeskip personality -- i know he gets better after dressrosa buuuuut #i needed him to be a jerk again xD #also this chapter felt a little vignette-ish which... i couldn't really do much about tbh #hopefully it still reads well n///n;#ALSO BIG THANK YOU TO MAH BF HE HELPED ME W THE FIGHT SCENE #he knows too much xD

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knockknockitsnickels · 3 months ago

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For Equality (#Women), here's a Princess tierlist (already did a voices one). I was hesitant to make one bc all of the princesses are different facets of my beautiful wife whom I adore, but I also love to yap so let's do it. Full disclosure I like all of them a lot for different reasons so these rankings are based almost entirely on vibes. For the sake of brevity I'm gonna be counting unique chapter 3s alongside their respective chapter 2s and counting the shared chapter 3s separately. I know that makes no sense but c'mon there's like 22 of these ladies

EDIT: I completely missed Razor!!! 😭 I'm sorry babygirl. Updated to add her.

Spectre/Princess and the Dragon: Spectre my beloved. My most anticipated route after playing the demo, and she met all of my expectations. The themes of forgiveness in her route are wonderful, I love how reluctant she is to hurt you, even when you deliberately antagonize her. Princess and the Dragon was also great - getting to see from her perspective feels so fitting I'm surprised it wasn't in the original game, and the moment of quiet you get just chatting with her was a delight.

Nightmare/Moment of Clarity: One of the most tragic characters in the game. I adore the way Shifty's description of her completely recontextualizes the route, taking Nightmare from a quirked up lil villain to just a sad person trying to find a connection after being rejected. Another wrinkle is that no matter what route you take - whether you get Wraith, M.O.C, or set Nightmare free - there's not really a way to give her the connection she wants. I got M.O.C for the first time via choosing to stay with Nightmare, not wanting to release her after she admitted to wanting to destroy the world, but recognizing she just wanted a friend. After the vision she shows us, I felt bad for what I chose - I wanted to apologize to her, but there were no options left.

Prisoner/Cage: First princess I ever got, hence subject to first-princess bias. I've already talked a lot about how much I love her in another post so I won't repeat myself, but she truly is the 3rd best Princess in the game.

Fury: My babygirl It's really hard to write about why I love this girl so much. I've talked about it a bit before, but there's a special kind of horror in how you destroy Fury's original sense of identity (whether you got there via Adversary or Tower), and how upset she is by what she becomes. I think she also ties in really well with the overarching themes of the game. Her insistence that you are not your body and her desperation for you to understand her (in one route destroying herself in the process) remind me a lot of what Shifty has to say in the final fight.

Adversary/Eye of the Needle: My lovely wife whom I adore, my bestest friend. Adversary is such a fun and underrated character, her respect and genuine care for the player is so good AND she's hot. Eye of the Needle is also extremely underrated, her dialogue during the Shifting Mound fight - especially the variation when you free her - honestly gets me a lil emotional.

Wraith: A star, she's done nothing wrong, she is a girlboss and she is slaying. I've already written a bit about how tragic her route is & how I think she's one of the best shared chapter 3s in how she changes depending on the context, so instead i will say: banger design.

Witch/Thorn: Yeah im basic. Thorn was something I was hoping for basically as soon as I realized I couldn't get through the game without hurting the Princess, and it really met my expectations. Witch is a fascinating character - she's so desperate for revenge she'll end up destroying herself in the process, yet despite reveling in how awful she believes the two of you are, her chapter 3s show there's a part of her which wants to reconcile with you.

Damsel/Happily Ever After: Damsel on her own I found to be a pretty funny route - Smitten's dialogue, her happily agreeing to end the world, & Narrator suffering throughout the whole route makes it a lot of fun. Honestly even the more unsettling moments like the deconstructed Damsel are kind of funny - like OK I think it's fascinating thematically (we're trying to help her by asking what she wants but in questioning the only desire she knows we strip her personhood away), but also her turning into an anime doodle is hilarious I'm sorry. Despite that, there is this underlying, deeply uncomfortable horror to the whole route which comes to the surface in HEA and Burned Grey (we'll get to her). HEA is genuinely the most tense I've ever felt playing this game lmao. I think she adds a lot to Damsel - she gives her another dimension of personhood, and whether you choose to pursue it or not, I think the route feels incomplete without it.

Razor: Hilarious, showstopping, spectacular. Her route is a lot more lighthearted than the others, which helps her stand out and can be a nice break on some of the rougher playthroughs. It's hilarious that she was originally going to be a bit more sinister - I'm glad BTG made the best decision anyone has ever made and changed her to her current version. There's also some interesting stuff going on with her thematically, esp in how she parallels Stranger she stole Stranger's ch 3 that's why she's the only route with 4 chapters and how she kind of flips the script on the player and so the slain becomes the slayer. Also, I just love the concept behind her design - her exploding into the perfect woman a knife monster is something I will never forget. She probably has some of the same problems with linearity as some of the routes I talk about later (you're always going to see almost the exact same 4 chapters, after all) but there's enough variation in dialogue and outcome to make me always happy visiting my dear friend Razor.

Stranger: I love her but she's probably one of the routes I replay the least, just because it always plays out the same. Either way, I love the lil peak behind the curtain her chapter gives us, and I love getting to reunite with her & having a real conversation for the first time if you get her as the heart princess.

Tower/Apotheosis: God forbid women do anything. Pristine cut really did wonders for her - honestly in hindsight I think part of the response to her might have had to do with how brief both of her Ch 3s could be. Getting a chance to see (both via Apotheosis & Fury) how much she clings to to her divinity adds a lot to her character.

Wild: Wild really hits different after all of the tension in Beast & Witch. I'm not sure how intentional this was, but I like how both of the no-knife princesses (Beast & Witch) have ch 3s where there's an option to reconcile. I'm guessing the devs knew players would probably eventually be forced to backstab the princess & wanted to give them a chance to make things right? Either way, I love she. The dissonance between the peaceful atmosphere of this route & her desperation to stay together makes this one of the most anxiety-inducing routes in the game.

Drowned Grey: Extremely cool design, extremely cool environment, I love the whole "widow/bride" thing the two greys have going on, unfortunately her route is extremely short & linear. I think part of my trouble with the greys is I don't entirely understand how anyone would get them naturally lol. You stabbed the prisoner? Jail for you. Jail for 100 years.

Burned Grey: My thoughts on her are basically identical to my thoughts on the Drowned Grey but she's lower because I think Drowned Grey looks cooler. Sorry bestie.

Beast/Den: She's one of the most horrifying princesses to me, which is probably part of why I try to avoid getting her route, lol. The themes of dehumanization & the way she's reduced to a base instinct of wanting to consume you just so she can be "whole" again freaks me out. Also the part where she rips you in half & is like "lol oops" is so funny. Legend.

#i think this post might be borderline incomprehensible i have an essay im procrastinating #slay the princess #stp #slay the princess spoilers #stp spoilers #pristine cut spoilers #see what i mean when i say 'i like them all' is i really don't think he princesses at the bottom of the list deserve to be there #like im angry at MYSELF for ranking them that low #though again full disclosure the main reason i avoid poor Ms. Beast #is just because 'cannibalism' is one of the horror tropes which gets me the worst #i don't mean it in a 'it's a bad horror trope which must never be used or your story is trash' way AT ALL #i think it is a VERY effective thematic horror storytelling trope #it just freaks me out (which yknow. is the intention)#i blame it on being a picky eater as a kid lmao #(me watching hannibal) 'this is JUST like that time my parents tried to force me to eat scrambled eggs'

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