#trashverger

“And who would that be?” Mason was sitting in an ugly green armchair, drinking a martini. He was watching a deer stumble through the backyard. He didn’t bother turning around as he spoke to his sister.

--

     What would it feel like, he wonders, to strangle a man so deserving of something worse than death and watch the light of madness leave his eyes? To know that one less evil had been snuffed out the way he himself preferred to ruin? Mason didn’t deserve death, it waited patiently for him as it did for all but this particular evil couldn’t embrace him as an old friend until he had long since given up begging for it.

     Unfortunately, Will couldn’t be that figure lurking over him, ensuring that every moment of his life was a living hell the way he’d made it so for everyone around him. Corrupting morals, destroying purity, devouring the innocence of the world as he breathes. He’d thought it impossible to hate someone more than he hated Hannibal Lecter. A new breed of villain for his unwanted epic. What he could do, is utilize it.

Abigail’s shoulders stiffened. On that particular day, she had been feeling oddly good about herself. So good, in fact, that she’d foregone her typical scarf in favor of baring her throat, which she now regretted as she gazed up into the man’s sly, glinting eyes.

Mouth growing pinched, she clenched her fists and squared her shoulders. She had always been small -- deceptively meek -- so she felt the need to compensate by attempting largeness.

She wanted to tell this person that she’d killed a man -- that she’d hurt people -- but somehow, all she could manage was a stiff, “I’d like to be left alone.”

Send ‘rough touch’ and the generated outcome will be used for a small drabble scenario or starter { tw violence, possible nsfw implications }

@trashverger 

17. Your muse clutches their hand tightly around my muse’s mouth to silence them. 

Grab his hair, came unbidden, an automatic first step in his natural defensive reaction. He has not made it to where he is in this life because he is easily frightened or subdued. Trap your leg behind his to knock him off balance. If suited, flip him over your shoulder. 

Lecter’s breath remained even, and he pulled in only a heavy enough breath to adequately oxygenate himself for the upcoming tussle. Verger was a dangerous man, prone to sadism and impulsive violence, but it was his very impulsivity that gave Lecter the upperhand. He would remain calm. He always remained calm. 

trashverger

SEND (☉_☉) AND MY MUSE WILL HAVE TO EXPLAIN WHY THEY HAVE NO CLOTHES ON.