Gardevoir Adoptables - Bug Electric and DOUBLE Psychic
Auctions for these characters are LIVE! Behold the Electric, Bug and DOUBLE PSYCHIC types~ Electric with her powerful arm-cannons, Bug with her overflowing rivers of honey, and Double psychic, who's SURGING with intense psychic energy at a cost...~
The Gardevoir adoptables will be available until FRIDAY NOON (5/10/2024 at 12PM cst) and minimum bids are $5 with an auto-buy of $200!
All Adoptables come with a front-facing pose, a back-facing pose, a face close up, and various bits of lore to help inspire backstory or personality ideas!~
Link to the adoptables can be found HERE!~
ELECTRIC: https://ych.commishes.com/auction/show/3A3IJ/gardevoir-adoptable-electric-type/
BUG: https://ych.commishes.com/auction/show/3A3IT/gardevoir-adoptable-bug-type/
DOUBLE PSYCHIC: https://ych.commishes.com/auction/show/3A3J6/gardevoir-adoptable-double-psychic/
Once the winner is decided, I'll get into contact with the highest bidder/auto-buyer to finalize payment~
+FUTA version+ ADOPT The pink dragon is a nun. She will guide you on the right path. The path of debauchery and lust! All NSFW versions are included in the starting price.
Please, if you are not going to buy, do not bid!!! (ಥ﹏ಥ) All suspicious bids will be deleted!
The auction takes place here (time and all versions can be viewed here):
https://ych.commishes.com/auction/show/1LINT/futa-version-the-pink-dragon-is-a-nun/
You can also place bets in the comments.
Now let's move on to the auction rules:
(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
- Starting Bid: $ 50.25
- Minimum Bid: $ 5
- Autobuy: $ 600
✧゚・: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)
For $ 150 (starting rate), you will get six high resolution pictures (3000px 3000px) no watermark and uncensored. Six high resolution pictures with transparent background (3000px 3000px) + line version (3000px 3000px). And full rights to the character (pictures) - You can create the coat of arms of your family based on this character. You can gift this character. You will be able to resell this character. You will be able to CREATE NTF and SELL IT. You can create a sect and worship this character. You will be able to create a bioorganism based on this character. It belongs only to you. He is your slave!
Payment and transfer of goods:
Payment: PayPal
Payment must be done within 48 hours of the auction ending.
You cannot ask for a refund exchange.
https://twitter.com/denfeltpen
https://www.deviantart.com/denfeltpen
https://www.furaffinity.net/user/denfeltpen/
hey so i’m currently painting this really big canvas that was supposed to be for a friend but we fell out so i’m thinking about auctioning it?
it’s a 70cm x 50cm canvas (about 2ft x 1.5ft) and i’m painting the cover art from doom 2016 on there so if any of you are interested please let me know if you would bid on it :,) as i really wanna sell the traditional paintings i’ve done too
bidding would probably start at £100 (most likely not including postage cause i have n o idea how i’m gonna calculate that but i’ll probably b capped at £10/£15) but if there’s a lot of interest i might up the starting bid
anyway i’ll add some pictures when i’m closer to finishing it as it’s taken me six months and it’s only half done so :,)
long time lurker, second time requester (first time off anon!) Can I ask for auctioning with eddie and/or venom? -whumpdevil
Aw, thanks so much for coming off anon, @whumpdevil. Of course, my dear! (for torture tuesday)
trigger warnings: human slavery, trafficking, nonconsensual drugging
(gif credit: high-treason)
They are excessively gentle with Eddie. They wash his hair with soap that smells like peppermint. They massage him with hot tea tree oil until his skin gleams and his muscles tingle pleasantly.
He fucking hates it.
They’ve given him a drug that makes him–and Venom–sleepy and compliant. Venom purrs softly in Eddie’s throat when their thighs are massaged with oil. It gives a deeply satisfied rumble when they are dressed in warm clothes.
This could be worse, Eddie, it projects to him when they are left alone in the cell for a moment.
“I don’t think you have a good grasp of what’s going on here, Vee.”
The door to their cell opens and two large men step in. They take them by the elbows and lead them out into the hall.
Nothing is a threat to us so long as we’re together.
—
Eddie is blindfolded and they are led into a room large enough to echo. Voices, indistinct and multiple, bounce around them. Venom curls up in Eddie’s belly, sleepy and disinterested now that they can’t see.
(It doesn’t occur to them that Venom doesn’t need Eddie’s eyes to see. Everything feels distant under the haze of drugs, blurred and unimportant.)
“Moving along,” a woman on a loudspeaker announces. “We are very excited to present our next item for sale.”
Multiple voices react in hushed whispers. Eddie sighs and shifts on his bare feet. They are standing on carpet. What kind of auction block is carpeted?
“Before you stands a very interesting alien specimen of the symbiote variety.”
You hear that, Eddie? We are very interesting.
“Yeah, buddy,” Eddie sighs, uncaring that he’s likely talking to himself in front of a large crowd. “But that’s not news to me.”
Aw, Eddie…
“Looks like a normal man to me,” someone from the crowd shouts.
Venom prickles under Eddie’s skin. He is not a normal man. He is Eddie. Venom’s Eddie.
“Soon to be someone else’s too,” Eddie grumbles.
That gets Venom’s attention. What is an auction anyway?
The auctioneer interrupts their private conversation. “It’s what’s bonded with the normal man that we’re bidding on today. Symbiotes need a human host to survive Earth’s atmosphere. Would you like to see a glimpse of the symbiote?”
The crowd murmurs their affirmations.
Eddie winces. That doesn’t sound good.
There’s a snick of flint flicking against metal and then all at once, they ablaze. Tea tree oil is flammable. That’s why they rubbed Eddie down with it. So that once he was on the auction block, they could set him on fire.
Venom rises off of Eddie’s skin in sticky strands, writhing and screeching under the flames that lick up Eddie’s body. Eddie tries to unglue his teeth so he can shout at the auctioneer, to let them know there won’t be anything left to sell if they burn Venom to death, but as quickly as they were ignited…they are extinguished.
Then Eddie just…stands there, singed on the auction block. The haze of drugs is wearing off. Searing pain takes their place.
Shit, shit, shit, Venom chants to itself as it works to heal Eddie’s scorched skin. What the fuck?
A round of polite applause scatters through the room. As if they’ve just performed a particularly clever trick.
I told you this wasn’t good, Eddie thinks. His lips are too charred to move.
Yeah, but you worry too much. How was I supposed to know they were going to light us on fire?
“Let’s begin the bidding at 3 million US dollars. Do I hear 3 millio–3 million to the woman in the hat. Do I hear 3.5 million?”
my brain while Crowley trash talks the boys and then leaves with the tablet: this is probably when they caught him, how many demons would it take to overpower an angel in straight combat?
I would like to see auctioning or wing whump with Peter please:)
Ah, yes. Peter and the auction. I’ve done this before, but I think I can do better. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to, love. <3(for torture tuesday)
trigger warnings: human slavery, humiliation, beating, brainwashed, burning, implication of sexual abuse...I sleep better thinking of Peter as an adult in this
Peter and the ceiling have a relationship. He likes to skitter up there when he’s left alone in his...prison. Clinging to the ceiling, pressing his cheek to concrete, it almost feels like being back in the city. Like being Spider-Man.
Peter’s not Spider-Man anymore. He’s barely even Peter.
The lock rattles in the door and, reluctantly, Peter crawls back down to his bed (a plush feather mattress that Peter hasn’t slept on once). They don’t like to find him crawling around the walls and ceiling.
“Good morning, Peter.”
“Morning,” Peter mumbles. His spine stings as he says it. The nerves there remember the cane. Remember your manners, Peter.
“That’s much better.” The man stoops down to cup Peter’s jaw in his warm hand.
Peter sags into it, eyes sliding closed. He hates this hand.
“You have a big day ahead of you. Are you ready?”
“Yessir,” Peter grits out in a mumble. The taste of ‘sir’ in his mouth isn’t so bitter if he can blend it into another word.
There’s no way to sweeten kneeling on the floor. Peter crouches. He leaps and swings. He flies. He doesn’t kneel.
---
Peter expected an auction block. He expected a bare wooden platform and a crowd of people pressed in close around him.
He gets none of that.
Dressed plainly, Peter is led into a brightly lit room. Three, immaculately dressed people on cell phones sit in a semi circle, bidding paddles on their laps. When Peter enters, they all shuffle to stand, trying to get a better look at him.
He turns his head to the side, wincing. Embarrassed. His eyes are swollen and wet, tears about to spill out. He doesn’t want to cry in front of these people. Not just because it’s not allowed, but because...
Because Peter still likes to think of himself as brave.
“Ms. A,” Peter’s handler says. “You may go first.”
Go first?
Ms. A is a blonde woman with manicured, crimson nails. She tucks those nails between Peter’s lips and examines his teeth. She lifts his shirt, palpates his thighs and calves. To her phone she says, “He seems normal to me.”
She requests to cut Peter. She is denied.
Mr. B is a tall man in cashmere who checks the whites of Peter’s eyes and presses his thumb against Peter’s tongue.
He requests to remove Peter’s pants. He is denied.
Mr. C doesn’t touch Peter at all. He asks his age, where he’s from, where he’s worked...all the normal questions. But he asks strange questions: the languages he speaks, if he’s afraid of water, how often he dates. Peter answers these through a grit jaw and stares at Mr. C when he relays the information to his phone.
He requests to burn Peter. He is denied.
When they return to their seats, Peter’s handler takes him by the shoulder. Peter crumples under his hand, ducking his head and blushing. The bidders respond to this with a twitter over their phones.
“Mr. C,” his handler says, drawing a lighter. “Do you smoke?”
Mr. C nods and lights a cigarette. He takes a single puff on it before passing it to Peter’s handler. Ms. A and Mr. B lean forward in interest.
“Hold out your hand, Peter.”
Peter watches his hand extend towards his handler as if of its own volition. He watches the lit cigarette sink into the center of his palm. The flesh there hisses as it’s burnt, but Peter doesn’t make a sound.
Peter’s handler continues to talk as they wait for his hand to heal. “He’ll need special accommodations, of course, given his unusual abilities. I’ve found that managing him can be...enjoyable, even. He’s intelligent, so he needs constant stimulation and...”
The handler cuts off when Peter’s skin visibly stops swelling. Retracts. Fades from angry pink to white. When he’s fully healed, Peter curls his fingers over his palm.