#auction series

[slashyrogue]

Failed Twitter Attempts - Hannigram AU: His Until Midnight

Failed Twitter Attempts - Hannigram AU: His Until Midnight

Will still isn't sure how it got to this point. 

The only reason he'd come to the bachelor auction was because his best friend Bev had begged him to be her date, since she was on the committee for the library project and despite hating socializing, especially with strangers, Will loved the library and didn't want to see the shitty new mayor's budget cuts end the place he'd called home for so long. 

The library had always been his sanctuary as a kid, a place where he could get lost in his own imagination, and to think other kids would lose that made him finally say yes. 

He'd mostly hung in the back as Bev talked the bachelors up, content to be alone, but when there's a crisis and half the bachelors get food poisoning Bev begs him to be put to auction. 

"No way," Will says, shaking his head, "Bev..." 

Bev is in tears as she takes his hands. "Will, I have no one. You're like, Mister Small Town Perfect: dogs, a good job, and you're adorable. Everyone out there will eat you up. I promise I won't let some weirdo take you home." 

Will sighs. 

"You promise?" 

"Absolutely." 

He walks out, blushing like mad, and Bev introduces him to the crowd like he's a movie star. 

"And here we have Will, who has seven dogs - all rescues - and in his spare time volunteers at the animal shelter. He's a biology teacher at Baltimore High School, very single, and just look at those cheekbones!" 

Will's eyes widen when the bids start. 

"One hundred!" 

"Two hundred!" 

"One hundred thousand dollars." 

A loud gasp makes everyone look at the man who spoke, and to Will's shock he knows exactly who the mystery bidder is. 

Hannibal Lecter, multi-millionaire and the only living heir of the Lecter family. 

The same family that whose murders sent Will into the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane exactly fifteen years ago that resulted in him withdrawing from the FBI and becoming a high school teacher. 

He lets out a long breath, eyes wide, and Hannibal's gaze is still so intense he can hardly look away. 

"Um....any other bids?" 

Will feels like his chest is being ripped open when Bev says only one more word. 

"SOLD!"

How is he going to survive even a second in Hannibal's presence let alone hours for a date? 

He doesn’t know but apparently he’s about to find out.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

An Offer You Can't Refuse- Part 1

Hero stirred to the sound of muffled voices. They tried to open their eyes, but there was a weight over them preventing them from doing so. They tried to move something, but that also proved futile as something thick and unyielding kept their limbs pressed tightly together. Some kind of cloth had been stuffed in their mouth, and judging by the sticky feeling on the lower half of their face, had been sealed shut with tape.

Hero wriggled in their restraints. They couldn’t stretch out much; padded, soft walls from all sides kept them tucked in a fetal position. How were they going to get out of this? They couldn’t see, speak, or move. They summoned their power, but any ice crystals that they formed couldn’t penetrate the uncomfortably tight material that encased them.

How did they even end up in this situation? The last thing they remembered was… oh. The fight with Villain. They never exactly played fair, but they really took that to another level when they hit Hero from behind with some kind of knockout dart.

“And now, what you’ve all come here for!” a muffled voice- Villain’s- rang out.

The voices became clearer as cool air wafted into the tight space. Villain must have opened the lid to the box they were in. Gasps and noises of awe sounded out from all around them.

Hero glared under the blindfold. They were ready for a fight. They were just about to try and sit up when there was a jab in their shoulder. Their body sank into the padded floor against their will, and Hero let out a very muffled cry.

“The city’s beloved human blizzard, Hero!” Villain announced, “you couldn’t hope for a better living weapon. With some training, you’ll be able to freeze out any adversary with one command! Let’s start the bidding at, say, five hundred dollars?”

“Five hundred dollars!”

Hero stiffened in shock. Was Villain really doing this!? They tried to fight the drug, but it was quickly pulling them under.

“Five hundred, do I hear six hundred?”

“Six hundred!”

“Six hundred, do I hear seven hundred?”

“One thousand!”

This went on for some time, the numbers going farther up and Hero growing more drowsy.

“five hundred thousand.”

“Five hundred thousand from General in the back, do I hear six hundred thousand? Going once… going twice…”

“One million,” a voice said.

The crowd gasped.

“O-one million dollars,” Villain said, surprise in their voice, “Will you meet that, General?”

“Two million dollars.”

“Two million dollars, how about it, Mx…?”

“Supervillain,” the voice replied, “three million dollars.”

The crowd gasped again.

Hero was too tired to be properly afraid. Their fate was down to the military, or to the most feared leader of the largest criminal syndicate in the world. Somewhere in the back of their mind they wished one of those corrupt politicians had bought them instead.

“Three million dollars, General?”

“Four million dollars.”

“Eight million dollars,” Supervillain replied coolly.

“Eight million dollars. General? Going once…”

“Nine million dollars.”

“One hundred million dollars,” Supervillain said.

“O-one hundred million dollars!” Villain squeaked, “going once, going twice…General? No? Then sold! Please have your payment presented in cash to me by the end of the week. Congratulations, Supervillain.”

The lid of the box was closed, and Hero drifted off completely.

Part 2

[jordanstrophe]

Hallow Island, 2

[part 1] [Series Masterlist] [Part 3]

CW: Back-handed slap, gagged, bound, manhandled, controlling whumper, kidnapping/imprisoned, sliiight failed escape attempt if you squint

The strap around whumpees wrists and ankles were undone and they were tugged out of their airplane seat by an arm.

Immediately whumpee tried to rip the gag out of their mouth, but whumper took it as an opportunity to get their other arm.

"Easy! Easy now. I don't want to hurt you. Calm yourself." Whumper lulled. The words sickened whumpee to the core as they got one more burst of adrenaline and managed to rip an arm loose.

"HEY!" Whumper yelled, swiping to grab them but whumpee twisted free and bolted out the plane exit just as it opened.

The second their foot was out the door, they ran face first into two guards who seemed like they were waiting right there for them. They each grabbed an arm and pinned whumpee between them, neither budging their grip.

Whumper sniffed angrily and motioned for the guards to turn them around; before striking whumpee hard against the cheek. They whimpered as the side of their face hit the guards arm by force.

"I really tried being gentle with you... Try anything like that again and you'll lose that privilege." Whumper spat, grabbing whumpees face as they flinched.

"Nod if you understand." Whumper hissed.

Whumpees eyes flickered between defiance and fear, before giving a small angry nod. There was nothing they could do between the two guards aside from giving in.

"Splendid. Take them to the hollow. I want them clean and ready for tonight. And check their cheek before they go up for auction, I don't want to see a bruise. It's bad for business." Whumper fixed their sleeve and waved them off.

Whumpee felt weightless between the two guards. If they fought they got yanked so hard their feet went off the ground. The island was surrounded by a sandy beach, their toes left skid marks from where they struggled. They tried burying their heels but all they did was get sand in their shoes.

Despite it being an island, they could see massive glass buildings in the center beyond the palm trees. Up ahead there was a cave with a built in iron wall and door. Whumpee tried to plead with the guards, but all they could do was make sad muffled noises.

The guard on their left never looked at them once. The guard on their right occasionally glanced to make sure they weren't squeezing too tight, at least not enough to leave a mark.

Someone from the inside opened the door. The halls got dark quick and soon enough, whumpee was gently laid down in a cell where they sunk to the floor on their knees. That would be their chance to run if they had the energy; it took the plane nearly a day to get wherever they were and they spent the last energy in pitiful efforts.

"Someone will be by soon to look you over. Just try and get some rest, mmkay?" The last guard spoke, looking over their shoulder. Whumpee ripped the gag out of their mouth and shouted "PLEASE HELP ME!" Before the door slammed shut.

Whumpee let loose a broken cry they had been holding in since they shoved the gag in the first place. 

To be continued- [Series Masterlist]

@enigmawritesstuff

[shipwreckedcomedy]

Our second annual costumes & props auction is LIVE! Want a piece of Shipwrecked history all for your own? You have until next Saturday to bid on some special items, including:

⭐️ Brom & Matilda’s Wedding Certificate (Headless)

⭐️ Rex Punchwhistle’s “Love Actually” Cards (American Whoopee)

⭐️ All of the character cards used in the murder mystery game in Poe Party

⭐️ Most of the costumes worn in How to Be a Ghost

⭐️ Dash’s Sweater Vest (Gilded Lily)

⭐️ Ichabod’s Green Flannel & Jacket (Headless)

⭐️ Every Poe Party character dinner name card

⭐️ And much more!!

Get your bids in before it's too late!

[angelpointe]

Aight! Heres a silly little request: hourglass dog hanging out in moony's square opening :3

Doggy ! I love moony and I think she deserves just a bit more love

[forwhump]

Don’t Do This

a/n; I was gonna try and take a couple days off posting ‘cause I felt bad for being way too much but I’m addicted to the panicky feeling that a new post gives me & I could only hold out for one day :’) hello again

I wrote this world in drabbles so that’s a big part of the reason it’s getting posted in drabbles but the conundrum I’m having now is that two or three of them are now actually following the plot & the rest are all just completely random so WHAT is the rhyme or reason here ?? there isn’t one buckle in

here’s another random ♡

(introducing the rest of the unit ! fun fun fun)(I’ve created a universe that’s just so much fun for everybody involved)

tw/cw: grievous bodily harm, mutilation, disfigurement, life altering injuries, rape, noncon, guns, graphic depictions of violence, gore, transphobia, misgendering, psychological torture, torture, amputation, humiliation

living weapon whumpee, creepy whumper, super soldiers, punishment

word count : this one’s long as hell, like almost 4K words, that’s why you’re getting the heads up <3

Good days, in a place like this, are far and few in between.

Most days are wrought with some kind of torment, haunted by something unimaginable. Silas’ day to day can be averaged out to mutilation, brain surgery, training exercises — a game of slaughter for the soldiers — and field tests — a game of slaughter for Silas.

Silas doesn’t have a lot of good days.

When he does, they just make him tense.

It’s like something is missing, and how fortunate it is that the missing piece is some kind of agony but Silas finds himself bracing for it all the same.

They’re sprawled across the common room, across the couches and the mismatched carpets, and Silas isn’t in surgery, nobody else is in training, their wounds are all healing. Silas is dwarfing the loveseat but Wren had fit himself into the spot at his side and he’s so warm next to him that it’s a good day. It makes Silas’ fingers twitch. Something’s just —

Something isn’t right. It’s electric, and it prickles at the back of his neck. He’s already looking at the door when it chirps to life; a keycard is accepted, then a fingerprint, then the vault lock is unsecured.

Silas was right. Something’s wrong.

The door grinds open and a cavalry of soldiers explode into the room like a swarm of flies. It’s an ambush. They move quickly, covering the door and the perimeter of the common room, shouting over each other, shouting commands.

They flood through the common room, guns pointed towards them.

Wren’s small hand finds Silas’ quickly and Silas squeezes. He helps Wren to his feet as guns are aimed into their faces and soldiers shout at them, commanding and militant, “on your feet, asset! On your feet!”

They’re herded into a row, which gives Silas a cool, uneasy feeling he doesn’t let show on his face. Standing next to each other, they’re too drastically different in size to hold hands in any practical way, but Wren keeps close at his side, fingers woven through Silas’ sleeve so tightly his knuckles are white.

It gives Silas a pang of — not of reassurance, because it’s next to impossible to ever be reassured in a place like this, but something a bit more akin to resolve. Something’s wrong, but it really doesn’t matter what it is. If Wren’s in any sort of danger, Silas will raise fuckin’ hell. No harm will befall even a hair on his little blonde head as long as Silas has something to fuckin’ say about it.

He shifts, only slightly, shielding Wren behind his arm just as Point saunters into their unit, hands behind his back, at ease. He walks with casual, unhurried footsteps, pacing up and down the line of them, and he’s quiet for a long time. He stops once in front of Wren and Silas doesn’t like the way he looks at him.

“Assets,” he greets finally, loud and commanding. “It has come to my attention that this unit has been causing me some trouble. Again.” He stops, turns to face them, arms still at ease. “One of you,” he says, “has been feeding some information to the big guy —“ he points at Silas “— that we suspect will make him extremely volatile. That puts us in danger, and that just won’t do, will it?”

Point looks down the row of them before he settles on Wren, close against his back. “And it was you, wasn’t it?” He asks. “You weren’t a very good girl.”

Wren inhales sharply at his back and Silas isn’t sure if the race of his heartbeat is Wren’s or his own. Something cold starts to trickle down the back of his neck, just as cold as whatever’s started to frost over the inside of his ribcage.

“I asked you a question,” Point says.

Wren’s fingertips dig into Silas’ arm so hard he probably draws blood. “No,” he breathes, so soft it’s barely audible.

Point grins at him. “No?”

“No,” he insists, just as soft. “I’ve never — no. They don’t — they don’t know.”

His eyebrows lift. “They don’t know?” The way his smile spreads wider across his face is grotesque. “My,” he says. “Didn’t this just get a whole lot more interesting?”

“Please,” Wren whispers.

The way Point grins at him makes Silas’ stomach bubble. He pushes Wren behind him entirely. “Fuck off.”

Point’s gaze flickers up to Silas’ face, almost appraising, before that awful, grotesque smile spreads across his face again. “That’s why you’ve got such a soft spot for her,” he says. “She never told you she’s a whore.”

Wren inhales sharply and Silas is going to rub that smile off Point’s face with the concrete floor.

Before he gets the opportunity, Robin says, “it was me.”

He doesn’t break line, he doesn’t change face, a proper and trained soldier. But, “I talked to Silas. Wren didn’t know.”

Point turns his head before he follows the movement of it, stalking the line of them to Robin.

Wren’s older brother, the familial resemblance is undeniable; they have the same white hair, the same dark eyes, the same cheekbones. The difference between them is that Wren is a person, soft and warm, and Robin is a super soldier. He’s big and he’s broad, his hair cropped short above his ears. When he isn’t in combat, he wears round, dorky glasses. He’s always scared the hell out of Silas and Silas doesn’t quite know why. Not much else scares him.

Robin had come to him maybe a week ago, and he hadn’t said much. He didn’t know much, even. Wren hasn’t really been…himself, he’d said. More than usual. He won’t tell me what’s going on with him but I was hoping you would…keep an eye on him. He trusts you.

He really didn’t even need to ask, because Silas was always keeping an eye on Wren but Robin was worried about him and Silas knows more than enough how that feels.

He keeps his chin up as Point approaches. Wren is shaking at Silas’ back. “You?”

“Sir,” Robin agrees.

Point hums thoughtfully. “This unit is just full of surprises today, isn’t it?”

He just barely looks at his men, tipping his head towards Robin. The militia descends on him, shouting and aiming and threatening, getting Robin to his knees, hands behind his head. Two of them hold him there, kneeling on the concrete as Point stands in front of him with a grin.

“Asset,” he says. “You have been charged today with inciting violence.”

“No,” Wren breathes. “No, please —“

“Normally,” Point says, grinning wider, not turning his head, “the punishment for inciting violence is execution. But we’ve made exceptions for the freak,” he explains, his eyes flickering to Silas, “so we’ve decided to show you mercy. You will get to walk away.” And he grins, flicking his wrist, and a buck knife slides out from his sleeve and glints tauntingly in the fluorescence. “We just need to make absolutely certain you are no longer capable of inciting violence in our facility. Precautions need to be taken.” With his other hand, he grabs a fistful of Robin’s white hair and he drives his knee into his windpipe.

Robin chokes, gasping for ragged breaths as Point takes a step back, just far enough that he can boot Robin in the face and throw him off his knees, onto his back. From there, Point stomps down onto his face, and the pitch of the gurgling noise that Robin makes gives Silas goosebumps.

“Today,” he announces, “we will take your tongue. We will no longer have to worry about threats of violence, and you will be used as an example to your unit. We don’t make empty threats. We will not have any more insurgence in this fuckin’ place, do I make myself clear?”

“Please,” Wren breathes, peeking out from around Silas’ arm and Silas tries to shield him again but he’s stubborn, he’s insistent. “Please. Don’t do this.”

Point looks at him and he looks for a long time. It makes all the hair at the back of Silas’ neck stand up, and he holds out an arm, not shielding Wren, just blocking him, just in case. Silas can see the idea form in the way that Point’s face lights up, cruel and delighted. He clicks his tongue at Wren, angling his head, some kind of signal. “Bring the girl over here,” he commands. “I want to be inside her while I cut out her brother’s tongue.”

“No,” Robin grunts, with the wet strain of somebody bleeding down the back of his own throat.

“No,” Wren breathes, taking a quick step back.

A wall of black tactical gear and assault rifles closes in on him quickly, and Silas moves without any hesitation or conscious thought at all.

He pivots. He’s gentle, he’s so gentle with Wren as he pushes him behind himself and barricades him from the nightmare cavalry. Wren’s hand finds his arm so tightly that Silas’ bones grind together and it’s his resolve. He won’t let anything happen to Wren — he can’t. Over his dead fuckin’ body.

Robin — whatever. Silas could take him or leave him. But he means a lot to Wren, and Silas won’t let Wren down.

“I fuckin’ dare you,” he spits.

Give lifts his gun. “Stand down, asset.”

“Tell you what,” Silas says, lifting his chin. “If you get me down, I’ll stay down.”

Give aims his gun towards Silas’ dick. “I don’t think that’ll be too hard.”

But the funniest thing about these soldiers is that they know Silas. They were here for his creation. They’ve witnessed every field test. They know what he can do. They know exactly what he’s capable of. When Silas needs to be escorted from the unit they’ll argue amongst themselves, throwing weight and rank around, about who has to stand in front because none of them want to put their backs to him.

They’re scared of him. They’re right to be, but they’re scared of him. But there’s something in this unit — maybe it’s because Silas is corned and drastically outnumbered, but it makes them cocky. It’s like they forget to be scared.

They should always be scared.

Silas rips the gun out of Give’s hands and shatters every bone in his face with the base. He drops into a limp pile of limbs and Silas can’t tell if he’s breathing. He struggles, sometimes, with how little it actually takes to kill a human being. Overkill, sometimes, but he’s never tried to tone it down.

“Asset!” Preach bellows, and Silas hooks his foot behind his ankle, sending him sprawling. Once he’s on the ground, Silas drives his heel down and right through the centre of his face. He hits concrete, and bone tears through his sock and bites open the bottom of his foot.

He’s rewarded with a knife between the ribs.

It’s whatever, it’s a knife to the ribs, it’s definitely not Silas’ first. But it hurts, of course it fuckin’ hurts, it hurts all the way through him and deep into his chest and he rips the knife out of his side with a roar. Rock, still standing close at his side, exhales an, “aw, fuck,” before Silas gives him back his knife. He brings it up, through the underside of his chin, into the roof of his mouth. Blood pours out of his face like a faucet had been turned on. He hits the ground with a noise like a splatter.

This time, he’s rewarded with a bullet to the face.

It isn’t lethal, but Silas is still shot in the face.

His cheekbone shatters on impact and he goes completely blind on his left side. For a second, for only a second, the world around him blurs completely, but it happens for a second too long. Silas sways, and when the vision clears in his right eye they’re all close, they’re all way too fuckin’ close.

“Back up,” he snarls, but then everything blurs again and their hands are on Wren and they’re trying to wrench him from his side.

“NO!” Silas roars.

“Silas!” Wren cries. He reaches for him, and Silas grabs him quickly by the hand.

While his arm is outstretched, Need strikes, and he breaks all the way through Silas’ elbow with a buck knife.

It crackles with pain for barely a moment before Silas stops feeling anything in his arm. It falls to his side, useless and limp, and Silas quickly reaches for Wren with his other arm but Silas thinks he might be losing a lot of blood and quickly isn’t quick enough.

Wren is hauled away as Silas is surrounded, guns aimed at all his most vital spots, fingers on triggers.

Wren fights, begs, struggles, but Tide and Vineyard make easy work of dragging him across the concrete. His wrists are tied behind his back, and when they drop him at Point’s feet, they drop him on his back, his hands trapped against the concrete. There’s something really helpless about it and it makes Silas really nauseous. The knife is still pierced through his elbow.

Point lifts his boot and presses it down against Wren’s throat, holding him there.

Silas doesn’t snarl so much as his chest makes some kind of noise, something low, like some kind of predatory animal. The barrel of a gun is hoisted, cold, against the nape of his neck, a warning.

“This is getting just fuckin’ ridiculous,” Point snaps at the room at large. “Ridiculous! All of this fuckin’ trouble! For some whore!” He looks down at Wren and tells him directly, “you are not worth all this fuckin’ trouble.”

Something akin to hatred knots in Silas’ chest, something akin to hatred but something so much stronger, something he doesn’t have the words to describe. It’s heavy, and it’s restless under his skin. The knife is still pierced through his elbow.

Point coils Wren’s braid around his fist and drags him over to Robin as Wren cries. Robin tries to protest, makes a hiccuping sort of sound, but he doesn’t speak. He probably can’t. He’s drowning.

“You people have been giving me a lot of trouble,” Point announces. He props Wren’s head up against Robin’s chest. “I’ve earned this.”

Wren sobs and it’s the single worst sound that Silas has ever heard. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget it. The knife is still pierced through his elbow.

“Please,” he begs, “please, please. Don’t do this. Please.”

Point grins at him. “You know how much I love it when you beg.” In a single, fluid motion, he hauls Wren’s joggers down his thighs.

The knife is still pierced through Silas’ elbow. He takes quick stock. He can still use one of his arms and he can still see from one of his eyes. He’s probably still at an advantage over a regular, human soldier.

Except Hal is swarmed, too. Not the same as Silas, because Hal’s a little more human than Silas, but he’s swarmed, and still, he shoves a soldier out of his way by the side of his head as he shouts, “you can’t do this!”

Point looks up quickly. He kind of scans the room before he settles on Hal. “Excuse me?”

“You can’t fuckin’ do this!” Hal cries.

“Stand down,” a soldier warns him and Hal pulls that guy’s knees out from under him.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” He protests. “This is fucked up!”

Point looks down at Wren for a long time, who cries quietly and doesn’t look back. Finally, he leans over him, up to Robin, and pries his mouth open. Robin doesn’t fight him. He doesn’t even hiccup this time.

Point eases his tongue from his mouth and severs it with a flick of his wrist. Stepping over Wren and Robin, he sidles up to Hal, getting right up in his face. “Which one are you?”

“Singh,” Hal answers. He adds, mocking, “sir.”

Something flickers in Point’s jaw. “Singh,” he agrees. “They tell me you’re not very bright, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt. I will choose to believe it is ignorance and not defiance that has made you think you have any right to stand up to me or to tell me what I can’t do. You do not. I can do anything I’d like. I can do whatever I want to you people. Do I make myself clear?”

Hal doesn’t deign that with a response.

Point flicks Robin’s tongue into his face and bellows, “do I make myself clear?”

Hal doesn’t flinch, but he closes his eyes.

Point delights in it. “Soldier,” he says, and when Hal looks at him, he goes on, “you know to look at a superior when they’re talking to you.” He looks at Vineyard. “Both eyes. Left and right.”

Vineyard nods.

Hal says, “what?”

The swarm is back at him in a second and it’s bigger this time. They force Hal onto the ground, onto his back, they pin him there by his arms and his legs and his wrists and his chest and his chin. Tide holds his eyelids open.

Hal thrashes. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? This is bullshit!”

“You should’ve known better than to misbehave,” Point says.

He hands Vineyard the same knife he’d used to amputate Robin’s tongue. Vineyard flips it over in his fist, and straddles Hal’s chest. Hal thrashes again, trying to throw him off. “Get the fuck off me! You can’t do this shit! This is fucked!”

“What did I just say?” Point snaps. He snaps his fingers, and Vineyard carves both of Hal’s eyeballs out of their sockets.

He screams the whole time.

He screams himself hoarse, and when Vineyard climbs off of him, when the swarm depletes, he’s a pile on the floor, head down, and Silas can’t tell if he’s still conscious.

“I am getting sick,” Point spits, “sick of the behaviour from this fuckin’ unit. You are livestock. You are property. You belong to me. You have no power here. And I’m delighted to let you know, livestock, that you aren’t even our best. You aren’t special. If you can’t learn to behave yourselves, you will all be put down, and our efforts will be relocated to another unit and you will not be missed. Except the girl,” he adds, mostly to Wren, standing over him again. He winks. “What a waste of such fuckable meat. We’ll keep her in the barracks until we get bored of her. She will be kept busy.”

Wren sobs and Silas’ fingers twitch. His arm is hot with bleeding.

Point crouches down above Wren again and makes a sound, a mock sigh. “I was really looking forward to fucking you while I cut his tongue out,” he says, pulling his joggers the rest of the way down, “and now I’m really disappointed. So you’re gonna have to make that up to me.”

Wren sobs again. His voice is trembling as he begs, “please, please. Please don’t do this. Please.”

“Be good,” Point tells him, and there isn’t even any mocking amusement in it. “I’m already disappointed. Don’t put me in a bad mood.”

“Please,” Wren sobs.

Point pulls him a little closer, pulls his head off of Robin’s chest. “Be a good girl,” he says. “I’m not asking.”

His hands find Wren’s waist and Wren wails. “Please.”

Something shifts in Point’s face. His bad mood. “Just be a good girl!” He cracks his fist into Wren’s face so hard that the back of Wren’s head ricochets off the pavement before he goes completely, unsettlingly still. His cheekbone is already bruised as Point snaps, “fuck sake.” With a grunt, he spits in Wren’s face. “Dumb bitch.” As he stands, he looks right at Silas. “Not as much fun fucking her when she’s not awake to fight me off.”

Silas is a violent person, but the kind of violence that Point stokes in him is something like nothing else Silas has ever experienced. It’s dizzying, not a thirst but a lust, and Silas doesn’t just want to kill him but he wants to eviscerate him.

He makes it half a step closer before the soldier standing closest, Vienna, lifts his gun and shoves the barrel tight against the bottom of Silas’ chin.

“Stand down.”

Silas doesn’t even have time to remove the knife from his arm. Silas grabs Vienna around the throat and crushes every bone in his neck with his other hand. He’s dead before he has time to react.

Two gunshots are the soundtrack to his body hitting the concrete. The pain registers a moment later.

It explodes through both of Seven’s kneecaps, one at a time, a white hot sort of pain that seeps into the marrow of his bones and hurts from the inside. He drops to his knees, and fire licks up into his hips, his chest, it churns his stomach with something hot and acidic that crawls up the back of his throat as he bellows.

Point lowers his handgun. “He told you to stand down.”

“Eat shit,” Silas seethes, and Point fires another shot into the already shattered plate of his right knee. The way the pain ripples through him knocks the wind out of him, and Silas groans through his teeth, breathless.

“Down, boy,” Point says. Silas snarls as he saunters closer, gun raised but almost mocking in its brandishing. “You embarrass yourself, you know,” he tells him. “Losing all this blood for the sake of the fucksleeve. This is a waste of your talents.”

Silas snorts at him. “Get fucked.”

It brings back Point’s grin, and he points at Wren’s limp body. “Like your little girlfriend’s going to be?”

Silas rips the knife out of his arm. He means to throw it, but he doesn’t get that far.

He gets shot in the face. Again.

It blows everything to darkness for a second and when Silas comes back to himself he’s on his back, looking up at Point, illuminated ominously by the fluorescent lights.

Point grins down at him again. “For constant belligerence,” he says, “left leg. Below the knee.” He holds out a hand, and Vineyard hands him an axe. “I’ll do the honours. Shame the girl isn’t conscious for this one.” He turns the axe in his hands, brandishing it dramatically before he hoists the end of it towards June.

“Tollier,” he says. “Any grand, heroic gestures for this one before I amputate his leg?”

June looks at Silas like she might try.

He shakes his head against the concrete.

She looks at him for as long as the moment will allow. Still, she doesn’t look away when she whispers, “no.”

“Hmm,” Point says. “Good girl.” He looks at her with an almost genuine approval. “Two fingers from your left hand for general insubordination,” he orders. “But I’ll let you pick which two fingers.”

Vineyard’s grin glints in the overhead lights.

Silas is sure June screams, but it sounds like his ears are full of water and he can’t hear much of anything else.

Point grins, wide and maniacal. It’s the most evil Silas has ever seen him look. “Brace yourself, big guy,” he says, and he leans in real close to make sure Silas can hear him. “This is really going to hurt.”

[lazysunjade]

R Y U U S E I |

pov: you're the mc in an otome game. the first route leads you into the vulgar clutches of an ancient demon with bedroom eyes. he enjoys long walks on the beach prolonged forepl*y, carnage, and ignoring you while you read him poetry.

cc: @lam-z | @ashwwa

[very-uncorrect]

Some ENAs! Poured this out of my head over two hours, had fun with the blocky side!

[soullesspaci]

She's trying to break in help

Edit: just realized I drew her hand wrong ;-; it's fine

[girlykinz]

ENA gif icons :3

[silverraes]

okay, human trafficking aside, how is no one thinking that this whole "auctioning off art made by my multiple adopted children for millions of baht to my exclusive clientele of random rich people where I dress up the children like they're trying to sell you a damn van Gogh or sth all while I lounge around in my rich people chair in the background" thing is.. hella fucking weird.

[slashyrogue]

Failed Twitter Attempts - Spacedogs AU: Yours Until Dawn

Adam only goes to the bachelor auction because Beth's family are donors to the library and she begs him to come. He hates big crowds and events like this, so many people and the noise is almost unbearable. Adam barely speaks the first hour, hating every piece of food put in front of him, and escapes to find a bathroom but ends up in the main lobby instead.

Which is where he spots the bar.

He doesn't usually like alcohol, the taste aside being inebriated isn't pleasant the few times he has been, but he's almost sure they'll have lemon lime soda and suddenly he's desperate for it since Beth refused to let him order any.

'You're an adult, Adam. Order a real drink.'

Adam walks over and sits at the bar, the bartender not noticing him, and several others come up until he knows he won't be heard at all. He's in tears after a few minutes, hands tight at his sides, when a hand comes up on his shoulder.

"What would you like, Darling?"

He turns to see a man standing beside him, cigarette in his mouth, and can't help but stare at his lips.

"I...I want some lemon lime soda...I...."

The man hits the bar and the bartender turns to smile at him. "Brother, what..."

"Get him some soda, Darko," the man says, "Lemon lime, and put it on my tab, "Anything else, Gorgeous?"

Adam blushes. "No, but I can pay."

"Not here you fucking can’t."

Adam is shocked when he's handed his drink, and takes a sip almost in tears at the taste. "Thank you."

"Everything alright?"

"My girlfriend, she...she didn't want me to order this. She said it was too childish. I'm at the bachelor auction next door."

The man smiles. "You up for auction then?"

"No," he frowns, "I...I just came with my girlfriend."

"She's looking to buy?"

"No, she..."

"Adam!"

He turns and sees Beth coming over, looking angry, and takes a long sip of his drink handing it to the man. "Thank you, Mister..."

"Nigel," the man says, holding out his hand, "Nice to meet you, Adam."

Adam reaches for his hand just as Beth grabs him roughly, and he frowns at the look on her face.

"What are you doing out here? They're about to start!"

"I just..."

"Come on!"

She pulls him away, and Adam frowns back at Nigel who glares back making him feel like he’d done something wrong. Had he upset him? Nigel had seemed very nice, and now Adam worried as they headed inside.

The people are all standing up as they come inside, and Beth gets him to their table where he barely listens even when someone gets bought for lots of money halfway through. His stomach hurts, and he thinks of telling Beth but she is too busy watching the auction so he heads towards the bathroom.

Where he immediately bumps into a woman in tears who grabs his arm. 

“YOU!,” she says, eyes wide, “Please tell me you’re single.”

“I…no, I’m here with my girlfriend and her family. Please let me go.”

She sighs, putting hands over her face, and he frowns as she makes strange noises.

“I can’t believe this,” she groans, “I…I need just one more. I…we only need a little more money and…”

Adam’s stomach tightens as he chews his lip. “One more what?”

She looks up. “Bachelor. I…the library just needs a couple thousand more. You sure you didn’t see any single hot looking guys walking around?” She jokes, “My friend Will just got us to a hundred grand, we’re so close and I lost half the bachelors to undercooked chicken.”

He squeezes his hands at his sides. “What do they have to do?”

“Just go out with whoever buys you,” she says, smiling as she comes closer, “I mean, you don’t even have to really be single it’s just a night out.”

Adam sighs. “I…I can help you,” he said, “If it’s not really a date.”

The woman hugs him, making Adam freeze, and she pulls back fast. “I love you, Mister…”

“Adam,” he says, “Adam Raki, and you…”

“Beverly Katz,” she says, pulling him down the hall towards the stage, “I’m helping run this event and it’s been such a shit show let me tell you. What is it you do, Adam?”

“I work in computers,” he says, “For a toy company.”

“Ok, ok,” she says, getting him near the stage curtain, “And what do you like? I mean, what do you do in your spare time?”

“What does that…”

“Just askin’ sweetie,” she says, fixing his tie, “Tell me what you like.”

“Stars,” he says, blushing, “I like stars.”

Beverly smiles. “Perfect.”

Adam barely has time to ask why before he she pushes him through the curtain onto the stage, and the instant attention makes him freeze. 

Beth is going to be so mad at him. 

Beverly grabs his arm and starts to talk into a microphone while Adam feels like he’s going to scream. 

”Here we have our star, Adam Raki! Adam is a computer tech at a toy company, and he loves to stargaze in his spare time. He’s adorable, isn’t he? Is there anyone out there who wants to look at the stars with Adam tonight?” 

A loud gasp makes Adam look up to see Beth staring with wide eyes, her angry gaze making his stomach ache, and tears came to his eyes when several people start to bid. 

“One hundred!” 

“Two…” 

“Fifty thousand.” 

Adam feels like he’s been pulled out of his fear by the sound of the high bidder’s voice and he turns because he recognizes who it is immediately. 

The man from the bar. 

He has a cigarette in his hand, and a drink in the other that he holds up high while several people gasp looking at him in shock. 

“Well, well!” Beverly says, patting Adam on the back as he stares, “Sold! Looks like Adam has someone to watch the stars with tonight!” 

Adam finds  it hard to look away from the man from the bar, and as the stranger gets closer his heart beats faster. 

It felt dangerous, maybe even a little scary, and yet when the man stops at the edge of the stage to hold out his hand Adam takes it without hesitation. 

“Ready to show me the stars, Gorgeous?” 

Adam lets out a long breath. “I…yes, but I don’t know your name.” 

“Nigel.” 

He smiles. “Nigel.” 

Nigel kisses his hand. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Ok.” 

Adam watches him go, blushing, and hardly even hears Beth until she grabs his arm pulling him out of the haze Nigel’s arrival seems to have brought. 

“Beth, I…” 

“How could you do this to me?” she hisses, “I’m humiliated! All the people at our table, they’re…” 

All at once Nigel is in between them, stepping closer to Beth as tears fill Adam’s eyes. “I’m afraid he’s bought and paid for till dawn, sweetheart,” he says, “You’ll have to wait till tomorrow to be a bitch.” 

“How dare…” 

Nigel pulls Adam away, ignoring her, and as he looks back the thing he sees is her glaring his way. 

Has he made a mistake? 

Would this one night with Nigel ruin his relationship with Beth? 

He can hardly breathe when they get out of the hall, and Nigel rushes to take Adam into his arms. 

“Breathe for me, Darling,” he whispers, “Just breathe.” 

Adam takes several breaths, tears falling down his face, and Nigel’s cologne is very nice smelling so he focuses on that. 

“I….I’m…I’m sorry.” 

“Never apologize for other people’s fuckery, Adam,” he says, “And that one…you can worry about her tomorrow. Tonight,” he says, pulling back to lift Adam’s chin, “Tonight you’re all mine.” 

Adam lets out a long breath. “I…” 

“I paid top dollar, didn’t I? I deserve all your attention.” 

He knows it’s not the best idea, ignoring the problems he’s already caused, but right now staring into Nigel’s eyes it seems better. 

Safer. 

“Ok, Nigel,” he says, “I…what are we going to do?” 

Nigel smiles and puts a hand on his cheek. 

“Look at the stars, Darling, just like you like. Sound good?” 

Adam smiles. “Yes, that…that sounds perfect.” 

[doyou000me]

Okay, so.... *steeps fingers together, takes a deep breath*

I started watching Pit Babe fully expecting it to be trash, but I'd heard there was omegaverse stuff in it and I got curious. Were they really making an omegaverse series?? If so, how far will they take it? Call it a social study, if you will.

I was not prepared for it to hook me, but here we are. Episode 7 with canon-confirmed mpreg and I'm loving it, cackling like a maniac as I'm going through the tag to see the uproar. I'm having way too much fun. Someone take this show from me and put my sanity back.

This chaos is magnificent and I love it.

More, please.

[jordanstrophe]

Hallow Island

CW: Kidnapped, gagged, bound, forceful/soft whumper, selling/auction insinuated

[Masterlist] Part 2

Whumpee gets yanked into a private plane and tied down by their wrists and ankles. Whumper was kind enough to clip their seatbelt in, though tight as it was.

They're gagged so they don't disturb the other few on the flight; all dressed well and none seem bothered by whumpee bound with tears streaming down their face.

Whumper looks whumpee up and down; they're not sizing them up it seems, but inspecting them. They touch their face, feel their hair, stroke their hand down their face just to see their reaction; which was uncomfortable squirming and a sad little muffle.

Yes this one will do nicely.

They open the plane window for them and turned their cheek by their chin. Whumpee could see an island that looked luxurious; remote. Far from any other land or civilization. Whumper grabbed their face and forced eye-contact with a gleeful smile.

"Welcome to the Island. We've been looking forward to selling you. You'll be good for us, yes?"

The other people lounging around chuckled and eyed whumpee intently.

That's when whumpee realized every single person here is a whumper of some sort, and possibly the entire island they were about to be imprisoned on.

Part 2

[space-spring]

One thing that I keep thinking about in regards to Tactics Ogre is the presence of the vaguely humanoid reptilian guys. Like the game has straight-up dragons of varying types, but then you've also got these guys that are just. guys but reptiles. And at first I was going "okay maybe they're just supposed to be mindless monsters like the undead?" but at some point in the game Canopus gets into a fistfight with one of them when he (Canopus) interrupts some singing. So this reptile guy has clearly got the emotional wherewithal to both listen to someone sing and also to get mad when someone interrupts!

The PSP version apparently has a description for the reptiles that mentions they're a "crude race with limited intellect." But are they REALLY limited in intellect or is it just racial prejudice?? You also see them being included in various mercenary bands throughout the game, and they seem to wear human clothing and armor, which implies that at least some of them have some idea of trade and currency, and most of them have the understanding of how to dress for their own protection. For all intents and purposes there is nothing that really stands out as evidence that they're less intelligent than standard humans

[angelpointe]

Experimenting with the way I draw the Picasso girl